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#I did this with ALL the scenes he's in also the ones where he's on screen as spider-punk
yeonzzzn · 2 days
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numbers up: sim jaeyun
part three of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 15.3k
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synopsis: with the imposter ghost face on the loose and your life being threatened, jake makes preparations to keep you safe and track down the copycat. you also make preparations with the heads of the film and investigation departments to bring down the imposter. trust no one and remember…everyone is a suspect.
genre: established relationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.
warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane (as always), blood & m*rder, dry humping, reader gets stabbed, multiple unprotected sex scenes, shower sex, hair pulling, if I missed everything please let me know!
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You’ve never seen Jake this paranoid before, or well, paranoid ever. Paranoia wasn’t an emotion Jake had ever had to feel and deal with, that was until you. Until this copycat ghost face made threats to your life and drove Jake to hold you close and always double-check over his shoulder. 
That phone call made Jake scared—truly, genuinely, scared. Which was another emotion he’d never felt. Jake usually lived on the thrill of it all. The thrill of someday being caught by law enforcement. The thrill of someone finding out his identity and challenging him. But he has you now. You changed everything. 
Which drove him to make this decision. To move himself and you across town into another apartment, leaving everything behind. 
You sat on the brand new couch you and Jake just finished moving up the stairs and into your new apartment, looking up at him on the ladder he stood on, drilling the new security system and camera into the corner of the living room. 
Your eyes wandered around your new home, to all the boxes and new furniture and new bags of clothing. You thought Jake was joking when he mentioned moving out and leaving every single thing in your old apartment behind. He clearly wasn’t. 
Jake paid for everything, the new lease for this apartment. Bought you and him new phones that had new numbers on a completely different phone plan than your previous ones. New bank accounts. New laptops, new emails, and new tablets. Books, journals, clothes, cameras, watches, literally everything. Jake even ditched his previous car and got a new one. Jake’s paranoia wasn’t a joke, and he fully went through with everything. 
He even tried to convince you to move into another town, hell a new country even, but you refused. The two of you were way too close to finishing your majors to just up and leave. You had duties here, the major one being to catch the imposter ghost face. It surprised you at the desperation Jake had to up and leave this life behind, all in the name of keeping you safe. 
Jake glanced down at you for a split second, seeing how you took in the new apartment. The blank stare on your face as you looked over every inch of this place. It hurt Jake, honestly. Up and dropping his old life wasn’t easy on him either. But it was all for you. For you, he’d do anything. That’s why he buckled and agreed to stay at the same college and town. He truly wanted to catch the imposter as much as you, but nothing was more important than keeping you alive. Keeping that pretty blood of yours flowing through your veins and keeping that heart beating. Jake wouldn’t know what he would do if something happened to you, and he honestly didn’t want to find out. 
He finished screwing in the last screw of the new security system and let out a sigh. He glanced back down at you to already see you staring back up at him, “What’s up, honey?” 
You softly pouted, debating if you wanted to ask the question that’s been making circles in your brain, “Where did you get all this money from? To do all this?” guess you decided to ask it anyway. 
Jake leaned on the ladder, smirking down at you, “I’m a serial killer, baby, you think I didn’t save money up in case something like this happened?” 
You figured that was what his answer would be and you didn’t want to admit you were terrified that he went and robbed a bank or random people. Or stolen from his victims. Jake did have a job, way before you even met him. He saved up every penny from each paycheck into a savings account that wasn’t connected to his main account and was under a different name. Jake wasn’t stupid to keep all his money in his main account. It would raise way too many red flags. That account wasn’t just his money from his job, but from earnings he got growing up. Money from birthdays or when his parents felt like handing him money. He would use some of that money to donate to charity, to make that bank account look less suspicious. 
You shrugged up at him, and made yourself comfy on the couch, laying down and stretching out. Jake climbed down from the ladder and walked to your side, “What are you thinking about, my love?” 
You sighed, staring into those beautiful brown killer eyes, “That I want to catch whoever is making our lives difficult.” 
Jake smiled, climbing onto the couch and laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “We’ll catch them, don’t worry baby,” he placed a few kisses to your neck, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, “And once we do, we’ll have a guaranteed spot in our respective fields after graduation.” 
You knew he was right. If the two of you managed to catch the imposter you would no doubt have no problems getting your detective jobs. It would be so easy and the town would be stupid to not give you and Jake those positions. You sigh then, realizing that once the imposter is caught, they would be trialed for every crime they have committed—including Jake’s. 
Jake and you never discussed it, about what would happen to whoever it was behind the ghost face mask and what crimes they would go to trial for. But deep down, you knew they would take the hit for both theirs and Jake’s. It only made sense. You refused to let Jake go down. You needed him. You’d…kill for him. 
His kisses on your neck deepened, his teeth nibbling at the skin and tongue licking up your neck. His hand now made its way up to your breast, squeezing the plush between his fingers. 
You softly moaned, tilting your head to give him more access to you. Your eyes fluttered closed and back open, spotting Jake’s duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen. 
“Thought you were going to get rid of that?” you asked with a shaky breath, too deep in the pleasure of his touch to sound serious. 
Jake chucked against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps and chills down your body, “I will tonight baby,” he pressed his hips to yours, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your heat. He removed his face from your neck and brushed his lips against yours,  “How about we stop talking and break into the new couch, shall we?” His hand slid from your breast to the band of your shorts, slipping his hand inside, “Have to make sure the couch won’t break from how hard I am about to pound into you.” 
You pushed his duffle bag off to the back of your mind and embraced his lips to yours. 
Needless to say, the couch indeed held up from the rough sex Jake gave you. 
Jake dropped the duffle bag to the ground with a sigh leaving his mouth. He pulled the matches from his back pocket, debating if this was something he even wanted to do. But it wasn’t up for debate, he knew it. This was for you. All for you and the future he wants and will have with you. 
Plus he didn’t travel out to this small shitty countryside town for nothing. 
Jake has traveled here before to take care of some…things. He knew the town and knew how easily he could slip in and out without a trace. 
The town had a small farmer's market and an alleyway where they kept barrels of hay to sell to customers for their farm animals. Jake was in luck to see one was still here and had enough hay in it to catch fire. 
He pulled a match from the box, striking the red tip to the side, watching how the flames rose and lit up the alleyway then tossed it into the barrel. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread. 
Jake looked back down at the duffle, kneeling down and opening the bag, his ghost face mask staring right back at him. He smirked, rubbing his fingers over the curves of the mask, “It’s been a hell of a ride.” 
Without another thought, Jake tossed the black cloak, gloves, and then the duffle bag into the barrel. He took one final look at the mask before tossing it in. 
Jake didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the barrel, watching the flames tear a part of him into pieces. He wasn’t sad, no no, he stood there with a smirk on his wash, watching how the white of the mask burnt and crumbled away. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his crazy smile only growing wider. 
He finally walked away, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, “I’ve always loved playing with fire.” 
“Absolutely not!” Jake said with a stern voice, his eyes glaring at you over the top of his laptop. 
You shift your weight to one side, crossing your arms, “You know I am the head of the journalism department, right?” 
Jake raises a brow at you, “Okay, and?” 
You thin your lips in a line, narrowing your eyes, “Excuse you?” 
Danielle sat diagonally from Jake to his left, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two of you, “I hate seeing mom and dad fight…” she whispered before standing up quickly, “I’m going to head to my next class…” without another word, Danielle slowly walked out of the office. 
Jake waited until the door fully closed before darting his eyes back to his laptop screen, “I said no, end of discussion.” 
You understood Jake’s worry, you really did. But without the other department's help, you wouldn’t catch the imposter. Earlier this morning, the dean of your college sent you an offer to pair up with the film and investigation departments to cover more ground for the ghost face cases. It would benefit you to have that help so it’s not just on your and Jake’s shoulders. Mostly with the recent cases. 
The imposter went on a killing spree over the course of a week, killing six students on campus, and two random strangers on the street on the edge of town. That’s EIGHT victims within a WEEK. What made these cases so major was the imposter started leaving specific items at each crime scene, clearly in a way to taunt Jake. Another ghost face mask was found at one scene, then a glove at another. The cloak was found at the next crime. A pair of bloody shoes at the next, the exact same knife type Jake has used was found at another. Then another ghost face mask. The other crimes were repeats of gloves and other items. The case was growing bigger and becoming too much for just you and Jake to handle, so when the dean gave you that offer…
“Well, I already said yes, so…” you hummed, not taking your eyes off your boyfriend. 
Jake chuckled, “Well, again, I said no. Cancel it, tell them you changed your mind,” He didn’t look up from the screen, typing something. You roll your eyes, slamming the laptop closed. Jake glared at you, “You’re on thin ice, honey.” 
You placed your hands flat on the table, leaning towards him but still being far enough away, “I run this department and you’ll deal with this choice whether you like it or not, understand?” he narrowed his eyes at you, “And you can look at me like that all you want, I’m not scared of you Jake.” 
You lifted yourself off from the table, barely turning to face away from him before he was on his feet and in front of you, hands on your waist and lifting you onto the table. He pushed between your legs and brushed his lips against your ear, his hands now flat on the table on either side of you, “It turns me on when you talk like that to me, baby,” he rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear, “It’s so fucking hot when you put me in my place.” 
He kisses your neck, one hand lifting to the other side to tilt your head, giving him more access, “It’s all true though,” you mumble, barely being able to get the words out. 
Jake chuckles against your skin, pressing his growing hard length to your cunt, “I could kill you at any moment, honey, don’t forget who I am.” 
You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at you, “You wouldn’t,” you smirked, moving your face inches away from his, noses touching, “I don’t care who you are, Jake Sim, you can’t live without me.” 
Jake smirks, pushing his tongue past his lips and licking a stripe against yours then taking your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft pull before releasing it. It was true, he couldn’t live without you. “Keep running your pretty mouth and I’ll take you right here on this table.” He bucked his hips against yours, brushing his lips over yours, “I’d fuck you so nice and slow and hard,” he whispered then connected his lips to yours. 
You don’t know how much time has passed, but Jake had pulled you to the edge of the table, rocking his clothed hard cock against your heat in a slow but hard motion, his hands running up and down your back as his tongue pressed in and out of your mouth. Jake was so ready to unbuckle his belt and tear your jeans apart to feel that sweet pussy of yours wrapped around him, that was until a knock on the door sounded, and the door was opening. 
Jake dropped his face into your neck, backing his lower half away from you and releasing a groan, “Did I interrupt something?” 
You quickly push Jake away and drop to the floor, “No, Jay. Everything is fine.” 
Jay stood in the crack of the door, his laptop in hand, eyes darting over to Jake, “Nice seeing you again, Sim.” 
“Woof.” 
Jay rolled his eyes, looking away from him and back at you, “Put your dog on a leash, ya?” 
Jake took a few steps forward but you stepped in front of you, “Jake, we aren’t doing this,” you snapped, “Sit down, please.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off Jay as he pulled the chair out and sat down. 
Jay smirked, letting a whistle escape his lips in a way of saying “Good dog.” Jake wanted to growl and bare his teeth and bark, showing him what kind of dog Jake could really be. 
“Please, come in,” you said, waving your hand to the free seats, “Is Jungwon coming too?” 
Jay was the head of the film department. His team mostly covered sports and weather, but occasionally would show up and film crimes, sending your department the footage later to write the articles and publish both to the campus’s website. Jungwon, Jay’s second, as if on command, popped out from behind him, carrying their camera, “I’m here, just fell behind.” You could tell the younger was nervous, giving him a small smile as he walked in and set the camera on the table. 
Jake kept his eyes on Jay, studying his every movement. Not liking the way the blonde-haired male would look and smile at you. Jake was against teaming up with the other departments for more than just not wanting Jay around you. He didn’t trust him. Or anyone, for that matter. Jake didn’t care if having extra people around made finding the imposter easier, having these people around put you in danger. 
You pinched Jake’s bicep, giving him a look to behave and relax. Jake just shrugs, leaning back in the chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him, resting his head on your hip. You ruffled his hair, loving how cute he looked as he scrunched his nose and batted your head out of his hair, fixing what you messed up. It still amazed you how this man was a serial killer. This soft puppy sitting in front of you was secretly insane and committed so many murders but was so soft when it came to you. It was cute, truly. 
Another knock and the door slowly slid open, “Am I late to the party?” 
You smiled, “Nope! Just in time.” 
Heeseung slowly walked into the room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Good, was worried I might be.” 
Lee Heeseung, the head of the investigation department. The poor guy was appointed the department head because the previous one was murdered last week…a victim of the imposter. You’ve met Heeseung a couple of times before, or well, have seen him a couple of times before. Anytime you went to the investigation office for results or photos of the crimes he always sat in the back with his lab coat and goggles over his glasses, as he worked on pieces of evidence the police department let the school borrow. 
You could tell he was also nervous, but he had plenty of reasons to be. One was the daggers Jake was sending at him, second, the man was just appointed the department head after his was murdered, and lastly, this was his first major job as the head, having to completely take over the ghost face case and deal with you and Jay on top of it. 
Heeseung sat down across from you and beside Jay, running a hand through his hair, “Sunoo should be here soon, he was printing off some extra photos from the murders a few days ago.” 
You nodded, finally sitting down beside Jake, “It’s nice to finally talk to you,” you said, leaning your elbows onto the table, “You were always so busy in your little corner anytime I was on that side of the campus.”
Heeseung smiled, “Yeah, I’m in my own little world sometimes. You could probably have imagined my surprise when I was picked to fill in the shoes. I basically had to beg Sunoo to be my second for these cases.” 
Sunoo you’ve worked with a few times before, he was shy but such a beautiful ray of sunshine. Had a sparkling personality and always brightened the room with his smile. He was super smart and would make a killer investigator one day. 
Jake listened as you, Jay, Jungwon, and Heeseung spoke back and forth. Eyeing their movements and facial expressions, noticing how Jay and Heeseung kept their eyes on you a little too long. Jake knew you were the department head and they were more than likely just being respectful, but Jake couldn’t forget the crush Jay has on you, or clock out Heeseung was basically undressing you with his eyes. 
Or maybe Jake was just getting jealous he had to share you with other people. That was probably it. 
Sunoo finally showed up, handing everyone their own folders of the photos. Jay opened his laptop up, connected the camera then blue toothing the laptop to the projector in the office to show footage they’ve taken along with footage from the security cameras around campus. You passed along articles and pulled the corkboard out. 
Hours passed as the six of you discussed the cases and exchanged information each department had. It surprised you how calm Jake was for the most part. Only getting sassy during specific topics. Jake was all-knowing of ghost face for his specific cases, knowing next to nothing about the imposter. 
The meeting finally came to an end and you were very much ready to go home and take a warm shower. 
Jake and Jay sat at the table still discussing one of the murders, meanwhile, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung prepared to leave. 
You held the door open for them, thanking Jungwon and Sunoo for attending, ready to do the same for Heeseung but he stopped in front of you. Jake clocked it immediately. 
“Thank you for welcoming us into your space,” Heeseung said with a tilt of his head, “It was finally nice getting to work with you.” Heeseung was trying to keep himself calm, shoving his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see how badly he was shaking. He found you extremely cute and incredibly smart. He was blown away at today's meeting because of you. 
“Likewise,” you smiled at him, “Hopefully this partnership does all of us some good and we catch this ghost face.” 
Heeseung pushed his glasses back up, “We are the department heads for a reason, we’ll catch them.” 
Jay noticed how clocked out Jake was, pulling his eyes over to you and Heeseung, “You going to bark at him like you did to me?” Jay teased. 
“Just might fuck her in front of both of you so you’ll be reminded who she belongs to.” 
Jay rolled his eyes, “She’s allowed to have friends, you know.” 
Yeah, she is, just not friends with males who want to fuck her and look at her like I do. Only I can look at her like that. Only I can fuck her. Point blank. 
Jay signed, crossing his arms, “Listen, Heeseung is a good guy, a little shy, but he’s new to this, don’t bark at him.” 
Jake patted Jay’s shoulder, “Okay, buddy,” and with that, Jake was walking towards you. 
Heeseung pulled his phone from his back pocket, “I was thinking since we are all working together, we can exchange phone numbers,” he smiled awkwardly, his glasses falling down his nose and him quickly pushing them up, “We can have a group chat as well.” 
Before you could answer, Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, “We don’t exchange numbers.” 
Right…because you both had to get new phone numbers. No one had your new numbers, not even Sunghoon. “Everyone is a suspect,” Jake said once you got your new phones, “trust no one.” 
Heeseung glanced over at Jake, “I’m n-not trying to steal her or anything,” he stuttered, “I just figured it would be easier for us to contact each other so we aren’t running across campus.” 
Jake smiled, “We can exchange school emails and our school chat IDs, that should be good enough, ya?” 
Heeseung looked at you and all you could do was shrug, apologizing with your eyes. 
“Jay,” Jake called, “Come over here, the four of us are going to exchange chat IDs.” 
You knew Jake was doing this to protect you and him. He wasn’t going to just hand over your phone numbers that easily. He was playing smart, having to be one step ahead in this game he’s playing with the imposter. The chat IDs were Jake’s only plan to not make it seem suspicious completely, mostly since the IDs were from the college and connected to the college emails. Your numbers were safe.  
You all exchanged the IDs and made the group chat, Jay saying he’d add Jungwon later and Heeseung agreeing to the same for Sunoo. 
Once the boys left, Jake slid the door closed and locked it, staring at you with hooded eyes, “I’m fucking you on this table like I said earlier.” 
You giggled as Jake picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the table. Jealousy was cute on him. 
You tied red strings around the pushpins on the corkboard and then took a few steps back, resting your body against the kitchen counter. You crossed your arms and let your eyes wander the board. Stopping at each photo of the imposter's crime scenes, and at each item they have left. Looked at the school’s articles and the official news articles that were pinned by each photo. Your laptop sat on the kitchen table, replaying the videos Jay filmed and was kind enough to send to you. 
Trying to wrap your mind around these cases was making your brain hurt. Mostly since Jake was stuck at soccer practice for the next couple of hours, you’ve been taking this head on by yourself. 
You rubbed your fingers to your temples, needing a much-needed break. So you splash some water on your face from the kitchen sink and gently dab your face with a towel. You pulled a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, sat on the couch, and propped your feet onto the coffee table. The apartment was quiet and you honestly hated it, wishing Jake’s laughter was echoing off these walls. Jake hasn’t left your side since all this bullshit started happening and the only time he wasn’t with you was his soccer practice. You always offered to go with him and sit in the bleachers, but he always refused. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. He barely was able to focus when you were at the apartment alone, but he knew you’d at least be safer there than at the campus. You’re just instructed to not leave the apartment at all if he wasn’t with you. Which was fair. Jake was able to hold his own because ya know, being a serial killer and all. But you? You were barely a challenge for Jake when he had you pinned to the floor and a knife to your throat after you figured out he was the ghost face. You could barely dominate Jake in the bedroom, he could hold his own. You?? Ehh.
You finished the apple and water, threw away the trash, and got back to work. You sat at the table, flipping through more photos Heeseung sent over and rereading some of the articles Danielle had written. The more you look over everything, the more your brain hurts and that small break did nothing. You sigh, reaching for your backpack in the chair beside you, digging for the documents and articles Jake has created and written, only to not find them there. 
“That’s fantastic,”  you mumbled, standing from the table and walking to the bedroom, finding Jake’s backpack on the floor by the closet. You bent down and opened it up, digging through his textbooks and folders but not finding the one you were looking for, “Fuck!” you sat on the floor, covering your face with your hands, “This is so fantastic.” 
You wanted to call your boyfriend, but you knew he was busy with practice and wouldn’t answer. But you doubt he would even have the articles to begin with. You shot back to his backpack, thinking hopefully his laptop would be in there and sure enough, it wasn’t. Meaning he left it in the office on campus, where the extra copies of the articles would more than likely be. You debate leaving the apartment, knowing you shouldn’t and Jake would be pissed off if he finds out…but he would be gone for hours and wouldn’t even know you left unless he checks the camera footage in the apartment. You tuck your lip between your teeth, ultimately deciding to leave. You’d be there and back before Jake even returned home. 
You slipped on your shoes and threw on a hoodie, pulling the hood tightly and comfortably over your head and double checking the door was locked before rushing down the stairs and making your way to campus. Thankfully it wasn’t a far walk. 
You quickly made it to the campus, unlocking the door to the office and closing it behind you. The campus was empty and quiet, being that it was the weekend. Made it perfectly for you to slip in and out quicker. Jake’s laptop sat on the table in his spot, just like you figured it would be along with the folder of the copies sitting on top of it. You grabbed both and hurried back out of the office, locking the doors. 
You made it to the first floor of the building when your phone started ringing. Your heart sank. He’s going to be so mad. You pulled your phone from your shorts pocket, expecting to see Jake’s name on the screen but instead seeing Unknown Caller. You tucked your lip between your teeth, locking the phone to ignore it. It’s probably just some spam call. You walked out of the building's doors, your phone ringing and the same caller ID popping up. 
You looked around the campus, not seeing anyone in sight. You dismiss the call, taking two steps down and your phone rings again with the same ID. You quickly dismiss it and with shaky hands, you dial Jake’s number. 
The caller you are trying to reach is unavaila—
“Shit!” you curse, redialing the number and getting the same message. 
Fear filled you, hands trembling as you stared at your boyfriend's number then the screen showing the ID calling again. 
You locked your phone and quickly went down the rest of the steps, making it halfway away from the building and parking lot when your phone once again rang. You stopped walking, looked around the campus, and finally answered the phone. 
“Hello, YN,”
You gripped your phone as it was pressed to your ear, “Hello, imposter.” 
“It’s been a while since I last spoke to Jake.” they chuckled, “I wonder why that is?”
“Yeah, crazy.” you whipped around behind you, looking back at the building you came from, then turned back towards the parking lot and looked at the buildings beyond it. 
“Isn’t it rude to change your numbers without telling anyone? Jake must have been desperate. Mostly after the very attractive photos I’ve taken of you at your…old apartment.” 
You swallowed. Whoever this was, they knew your numbers had changed and that you moved. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone near only to find no one. 
“What do you want?” you asked, starting to quickly walk again. 
“Like I told Jake, you’ll know soon enough.” 
You scoff, picking up your pace. 
“Where are you going in such a hurry, YN?” You stopped walking again, heart nearly stopping, “Don’t you know it’s rude…” 
You had a bad feeling, body shaking and trembling, “Rude that what?” you asked, but then the line hung up. 
You barely had time to realize what was about to happen. They had their arm wrapped around your neck and their knife piercing the skin at your waist just above your rib cage. 
“Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you?” 
You tilted your head to the side and up, seeing the ghost face mask you were all too familiar with. 
You swallowed again, trying to form words but nothing came out but gasps. 
Jake slouched against the bleachers, taking his towel and wiping the sweat from his face and hair. Sunghoon sat down beside him, “Practice was hell today.” 
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “I’m ready to go home.” 
Sunghoon glanced over at his best friend, “You still not going to tell me where you both moved off to? Or your new number?”
Jake sat still, not looking at his friend, “I have my reasons.” 
Sunghoon moved closer, “Did something happen? Jake, this isn’t like you.” 
Jake wanted to snap at him that he didn’t know anything about him besides what Jake allowed him to see. He loved Sunghoon, truly did. But with the imposter…he couldn’t trust anyone. Not when his girlfriend's life was on the line. 
“Let’s just say it’s a long story, one you’ll know soon enough.” Jake hoped he would accept it and leave it alone. And thank god he did. 
Sunghoon sighed and just stood up, “Time to head home, see ya tomorrow?” 
Jake stands up too, reaching out for his friend's hand, “Yep, see ya at the skating rink at two pm.” 
Sunghoon took his hand, “Make sure YN joins too!” he said as he walked away. 
Jake nodded and picked up his bag, heading for the changing room. 
Once he was out of his sweaty soccer clothes and cleaned himself and in cleaner clothes, he left the locker room, finally pulling his phone from his duffle, seeing your few missed calls. Jake waited until he was in his car and heading back home before calling you back. The line didn’t even ring and went straight to voicemail. Jake raised a brow, “Okay, weird.” He redialled your number, and it once again went straight to voicemail. 
Jake at this point was parked at the apartment, calling you one more time, it rang twice and then ended. Jake quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs, stumbling with his keys to unlock the door and stepping inside. 
“YN!” he yelled, seeing the apartment in one piece and no sign of forced entry. He rushed to the bedroom, still not seeing you. “YN!!” he shouted, still no answer. 
Jake was starting to panic. It wasn’t like you to ignore his calls. To leave without telling him or to even just leave. He paced around the living room, pulling up the camera footage on his phone, and seeing you leave the apartment. 
“Goddamn this woman!” he bite his tongue, redialing your number once again, “Fucking pick up…please god let her pick up…” 
Your phone rang again, and you didn’t have to look at it to know it was Jake. 
“Kind of rude to keep ignoring your boyfriend’s calls, isn’t it? Answer it.” 
You took a deep breath, feeling your knees going weak, continuing to ignore the imposter. 
“I said fucking answer it!” he yelled into your ear, pushing the knife in further. 
You grunted out in pain, praying someone was on campus to witness what was happening to you. It was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, where was everyone? 
You didn’t want to answer the call. Didn’t want Jake to hear what he was about to. Didn’t want the imposter to kill you and have Jake hear it. You knew what Jake would do… 
The imposter hisses and pulls your back to their chest, removing their arm from your neck and reaching for your phone, accepting the call and putting it on speaker. 
Jake nearly dropped to his knees at hearing the call answer, “YN!” he snapped, “Where the fuck are you?!” 
“Hello, Jake.” 
Jake’s heart stopped, almost stumbling to the floor before catching himself on the kitchen counter, jaw clenching at the sound of the voice changer, “Where is she?” 
The imposter chuckled, “Right here in front of me, say hi, honey,” 
Jake tensed at hearing the imposter use the pet name he’d given you, using it as a taunt. 
“It’s rude to not say hello to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” 
They pushed the knife in further, you gasped in pain. 
Jake was already out the door at the sound of your pained gasp, “I swear to god if you—“ 
“If I what, Jake Sim?” he taunted, “If I kill her? What will you do?” 
Jake ran a head through his hair, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.” 
They laughed, “Sounds about right coming from a serial killer.” 
Your moans filled Jake’s ears, the way you were gasping for air…he needed to get to you. Jake placed the call on speaker and with shaky hands opened the app he installed to find your location, “That makes two of us doesn’t it?” he said, stalling time to find your location, finally pinpointing you at the school. 
“I know you’re stalling, Jake,” they whispered, “To find our location.” 
Jake snarled, “What do you want?” 
Silence, and then, “To see you suffer.” 
They pulled the knife out of your side and shoved it back in, creating another wound. Your cries filled Jake’s ear and now he was sprinting to the school. 
Your body was shaking, feeling your blood pool out of your skin and down your body and to the sidewalk, “You look even prettier with your blood leaking out,” they laughed, “Jake might be too late.” 
Jake ran faster, “Leave her alone!” he screamed completely out of breath. 
“Goodbye, Jake Sim.” 
Then the call ended. 
The imposter tossed your phone off to the side, twisting the knife deeper, pulling it out and back in, making another wound. 
Your hands became weak, letting go of the laptop and folder in your hand, dropping to the ground beside you. Your head flung forward, too dizzy from your blood loss to stay upright anymore. You barely felt the knife being removed from your body and their hands letting you go. 
You fell, your temple hitting the edge of the sidewalk, blurring your vision even more. The imposter knelt beside you, lifting the knife and wiping your blood on their cloak, the black sleeve falling down, revealing a watch at their wrist. They chuckled, staring at the now clean knife, “It was fun, YN, this time we spent together today.” You stared at the mask through your blurred vision, watching as they stood and walked away. Leaving you to bleed out. 
You blinked a couple of times, too weak to try and move, eyes looking up at the blue sky. This was it. This was your end. You thought about Jake and how you wanted to feel his touch, hear his voice. Kiss his lips for the last time. You felt your heart slowing down. It would be any minute now. 
“YN!!” you heard from a distance but muffled. “YN!!” it was closer now, still muffled. You closed your eyes and then felt hands on you, “YN, baby, please open your eyes.” 
It was Jake. He was here. 
You forced your eyes open, barely being able to keep them open for long, but it was enough to see him leaning over you, tears filling his eyes. 
Jake pulled you off the sidewalk and into his arms, resting your head on his chest, panicking at the wound on your head, “Oh my god, baby, please speak to me, keep your eyes open.” His warm hand wiped the dripping blood from your face, starting to rock back and forth, “YN, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay baby? Say something to me. I am right here.” 
You fluttered your eyes open, but closed them again, opening your mouth to speak, but only gasps coming out. 
Jake saw your blood staining your hoodie, carefully lifting the fabric to see three stab wounds and the blood that continued to pool out. Jake pressed his hand to the wounds as hard as he could, feeling you jolt against him, “Shh, I know baby,” he cried, the tears finally falling, panic rising more and his rocks becoming faster, “I am so sorry my love, please stay with me. Hey, open your eyes please, YN. I can’t live without you, please.” You were fading, you knew it. Jake’s cries became more muffled and everything went black. 
— 
Your eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a heart monitor echoing in what you were assuming was a hospital room. The last thing you remembered was hearing Jake’s screams before passing out. You looked down at your body, seeing all the IVs connecting to the veins in your arms and the hospital band around your wrist. You looked to your right, seeing the hospital door boarded up with chairs. You looked to your left, seeing Jake sleeping soundly against your bed in the chair he pulled up close. His hair had fallen over his eyes, lips parted slightly, hearing his breathing. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was under his head. 
You swallowed, feeling how dry your throat was. You tried to sit up, but Jake felt you shift on the bed, waking him up. He slowly sat up and stood to his feet, standing closer to you and cupping your face, “YN, honey, how are you feeling?” 
You blinked a few times, once again trying to sit up, “I’m thirsty,” you said, struggling to speak. 
“Here, hold onto me so we can sit you up, okay?” Jake rested his hands under her arms and you gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, pulling as he used his strength to help you shift up, “Be careful,” he whispered. 
Once you were sitting up, Jake helped balance you so he could raise the head of the bed and then help you lean back. He adjusted your pillows helping you feel more comfortable. 
“Thirsty,” you said with a raspy voice. 
Jake nodded, cupping your face once again, and rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. His eyes glossed over, trying hard to not let the tears fall again, you were okay. You were safe and alive and breathing. You were here with him. He glanced up at the bandage atop your head, “Does your head hurt?” 
You nodded, the pain in your head and your waist fully kicking in, “Both do.” 
Jake placed a kiss on your forehead then went to the bedside table, grabbing the bottled water and the pain meds the doctors said to give you once you woke up, “Here, my love.” 
He handed you the meds and water. You swallowed to the best of your ability and chugged down the water, handing the bottle back to him. He set it back to the table and sat back down in the chair, pulling it closer. 
You stared back at him, watching as he reached for your hand, his fingers twisting at each of yours, before finally clasping his hand with yours, the other covering the top of your hand, “What do you remember?” he softly asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. 
“Everything,” you sighed, looking away from him and to the door, “Was that necessary?” 
“Of course it was,” he scoffed, “I’m not risking you getting hurt again. Trust no one.” 
You tilted your head at your boyfriend, reaching up with your free hand and cupping his face. Jake leaned into your touch, eyes getting glossy again. 
“I was scared I lost you.” Jake didn’t ever want to feel what he felt ever again. Seeing you almost lifeless on the sidewalk, your skin cold and your blood staining the grass and concrete. He screamed as loud as he could until finally another student came out of nowhere and called an ambulance. He didn’t leave your side. He paced the halls back and forth at your room until the doctors came out saying you were stable and your wounds were stitched up and bandaged. “I don’t want to ever go through that again.” 
You slid your hand down to his shirt collar, pulling him towards you, or well attempting to. You were still too weak, but Jake knew what you wanted. So he carefully stood and inched his face closer to yours, pressing his lips to yours. 
He kissed you a couple more times, then sat back down, “What were you doing at the campus?” he finally asked, “I told you to stay home.” 
You softly smiled, “I wanted to get your laptop and the articles you wrote.” 
Jake sighed, looking down at the bed, “Baby, I had a flash drive at home in the drawer.” 
You felt stupid, not even thinking he had other backups, “I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. 
“Shhh, no,” he said, cupping your face, “Don’t cry, it's okay, I am not mad. I was worried about you.” Jake was more than worried. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he would have done if he found you dead. He’d probably hunt down the imposter, get revenge for what he did to you, and then kill himself. This world wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t living in it. 
You leaned into his face, kissing the palm of his hand, “I shouldn’t have left.” 
Jake just smiles at you, “Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish.” 
So you did. Giving him every detail possible. 
“YN,” Jake sighs, pushing your hands off him, “You need rest.” 
All Jake did was come into the bedroom to check on you and give you the pain meds the doctors prescribed to you and you didn’t waste a chance to jump his bones. 
You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes and pouting. Jake smiles and tilts his head at you, “Stop pouting and take your meds.” 
It’s been a week since the incident. A week of laying in this bed and Jake taking care of you while also doing what he could to piece together and solve the imposter ghost face cases. The imposter has been quiet since you encountered him, no phone calls to either yours or Jake’s phone, or even any more murders. Whoever they were, they weren’t radio silent. 
Except for Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jay of course. Sunghoon arrived at the hospital after hearing the rumors being spread around campus of Jake crying and screaming for help because you were hurt. Heeseung and Jay spammed the group chats you all had for the investigation, asking if you needed anything and of course Jake answering for you saying no. 
Sunghoon now officially knew where the two of you lived, Jake forcing—and threatening—him to keep his mouth about the location of the apartment and to never come over unless he was told to. Sunghoon finally understood now why Jake was being the way he was, all to protect you. 
“I’ve been resting for a week,” you scoffed with a click of your tongue, “I can walk perfectly fine and even use the bathroom and shower on my own.” 
Jake blankly stares back at you, refusing to answer until you take the water and medicine from his hand. So you did, swallowing the pills down with the water. You set the water bottle down on the nightstand, glaring at him. 
He glared back, “If I give you a kiss will you rest?” 
You relaxed your face and nodded. To say you’re deprived of sex would be…silly to say in the least. Jake normally fucked you any chance he could get. But after you got hurt…he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your stitches coming out. He’s told you this, but the more time that passes, the more you crave him. 
Jake sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down and connecting your lips together. Jake held your lips a bit longer, giving you a few more kisses then slowly standing up. You sat up reaching your hands for his shoulders and pulling yourself to your knees and reconnecting your lips to his, pressing your body to his chest. 
“YN,” he said between kisses, hovering his hands over your hips and then shoving you back down to the bed. He was quick to put his hands on your shoulders and push you back down in a lying position. He kept his hand on your shoulders as you glared up at him. Jake wanted to fuck you, oh how badly he wanted to fuck you. He was tired of fucking his cock with his fist the past week, but you needed rest. At least until your stitches were safe to be removed. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight against the hold he had on your shoulders. 
“YN,” he sighs, “You’re fucking insane,” he slowly removed his hands from your shoulders, “You were stabbed three times and hit your head, stay the fuck down.” 
Hmmm. Nah. 
You grabbed him by his shirt collar, using your slow returning strength, and pulled him down onto the bed and climbed into his lap, “Funny how you call me insane,” you start to tease him, removing your shirt from your body, exposing your bare chest, “When you’re literally a serial killer.” 
Jake was hard. His hands settled onto your hips and looping his fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, “You’re dating a serial killer, my love. Doesn’t that make you just as insane as me?” 
“What makes you insane,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt and lifting the clothing up, “Is not giving your insane girlfriend what she wants,” you pulled his shirt off his body, running your hands down his broad chest and abs, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. You brush your lips against his, watching how lustful his expression was becoming, “Fuck me, Jake.” 
Jake tore his fingers into your panties, tearing them in half and tossing them to the floor, “Lift up for me, baby.” 
You held onto his shoulder as you lifted yourself up, your breasts now eye level with his face. Jake leaned forward, placing his face between your breasts, kissing them down the middle, his hands cupping them, squeezing them to his face, and taking your skin between his teeth and sucking gently, slowly working his way to your nipple and taking it in his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive nub, hands flying to his shorts and pulling them off him. Jake bit your nipple and pulled slowly, letting it slip from his teeth. He reattached his lips to it, licking and giving it one final kiss before looking up at you, “I need you on my cock, honey.” 
Jake lined his tip to your entrance, one hand on your hip as you slowly slid down him. 
“Fuck,” Jake breathes, resting his head on your shoulder as his tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you feel so good.” 
A week without your pussy was a week too long and it took everything in Jake to not fuck his hips up into you, letting you completely take control. 
You started off slow, letting yourself adjust to his size and working up your speed. His cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls. You’ve craved this, craved him and his touch. You were already losing yourself on his dick, bouncing on him as if it were the last time. 
“Jake,” you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Oh, fuck, Jae.” 
He bit his lip, flinging his head back and squeezing your thighs, using every ounce of self-control he had to not fuck you senseless, “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “Keep going, oh fuck please keep fucking yourself on my cock.” 
You bounced faster, his tip hitting all the right spots. 
Jake groaned, sliding his hands carefully to your waist, trying to be gentle to not irritate your wounds more than what they probably already were. He was starting to lose himself to your cunt, becoming a moaning mess each time you clench around him, “YN, I’m going to cum if you keep clenching me like that, honey.”
You kept moving, sliding up and down, up and down, rocking your hips as fast as you could go to chase your climax, “I wa-wanna cum,” you gasp, legs getting tired but still pushing nevertheless. 
“Yeah?” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm carefully around your waist, “Baby wants to cum?” You nod, biting your lip. Jake pressed you to him, flipping you over and lying you down on your back, “I’ll make you cum, honey, make you feel so fucking good.” 
You gasped as he fucked into you, using his knees to push your legs further apart, giving him more access. 
You dug your nails into his back, moaning his name repeatedly each time his tip hit your g-spot. You are nearly a second away from cumming. Jake pistoned his hips against yours, hands gripping the bed sheets between his fingers, “Cum for me baby, let it go.” 
Jake thrust hard into you, pushing his cock as far as it could go the moment he felt your cum wrap around his cock, “Jae,” you breathed running your hands up into his hair, “Jaeyun.” 
He kept pushing into you, groaning when he finally pulled out and pushed back in, rocking his hips so fast, “Going to fill this pussy so full of my cum,” he places his lips onto yours, “Fuck, going to cum so deep in this cunt.” 
Jake’s movements got sloppy, breathing becoming uneven as he kept his lips pressed to yours. Jake wanted to cum so bad, it’s been a week since he’s been able to pump his load into your sweet cunt, to feel you clench around him at the feeling of his cum filling you whole. Oh, he couldn’t wait, knowing he could burst at any moment…
“I’m cumming, oh fuck I’m cumming,” he moans against your lips, thrusting a final time and painting your walls, his cum leaking from your pussy. 
Jake rode out his high, slowly catching his breath. He pulled out of you with a grunt, shifting to your left and lying beside you, pulling your face to him to kiss your cheek. 
You smiled and softly laughed, feeling satisfied and so full. Jake was happy seeing you smile, his eyes rolling down to the bandages on the right side of your waist. His smile slowly faded, his fingers tracing over the bandage. He almost lost you. Almost was never able to see your smile and hear your laugh ever again. His blood boiled. 
“Jake,” you whispered, seeing him lost in thought, “Babe,” 
Jake looks into your eyes, “I’m going to kill them, for doing this to you.” You frown, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into your touch, “I’d set this world on fire for you, ya know,” he whispered, his facial expression relaxing, “I’d let it burn and tear apart into ashes and nothingness. Let it completely burn for you.” You leaned into him, laying your head against his chest, his arms pulling you tighter to him. Jake kissed the top of your head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m going to end that fucker for what they’ve done to you and burn this fucking world down.” 
Jake stared down the other two males in front of him, burning holes into their bodies. 
Jay stared back, brows furrowed. Heeseung only glanced up every few seconds, trying to keep his eyes glued to his laptop, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 
“Say some shit,” Jay said with a cool calm with irritation. 
“Some shit,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. 
You just roll your eyes, “Can we not today? We have work to do.” 
Jake’s smirk turned into a frown, body relaxing and leaning into you, resting his head on your shoulder. 
“He really is like a dog,” Jay scrunched his nose, “No wonder he barks so much.” 
“Woof.” 
You drop your head into your palms, rubbing your eyes, “Jaeyun Sim, please.” 
Jake has been overprotective of you ever since returning back to campus. Your stitches were removed, but the scar and irritation were still present. It hurt to breathe at times or move certain ways, but you wouldn’t let it affect you. You needed to catch the imposter, after all. 
“Anyways,” Heeseung mumbled, eyeing Jake one last time before looking at the laptop, “The police report finally came back from your case, YN. And the photos my team took are pulled up here as well.” Heeseung sent both files to the group chat. 
“I’m uploading the…” Jay started saying, quickly glancing down at his phone, his jaw flexing then flipping the phone over on the table face down, “Anyways, I am uploading the news report we filmed on top of the official news report from the town,” Jay typed away at his computer, the files popping up in the group chat. 
The four of you looked over the files and reports. Five minutes turned into an hour, and an hour into two. Yet nothing stood out in your case. 
The imposter didn’t leave or take anything at the scene of the crime. They even left Jake’s laptop and folder. Which was odd, considering the imposter would want to take that information? Right? Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Whoever this imposter was, they were thorough, and clean, only left behind what they knew couldn’t be traced back to them. This was a game to them. And they are somewhere laughing their ass off right now. 
Heeseung leaned back in the chair, flinging his head back and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head, pulling his dark hair up with it. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, “Is there anything any of you can think of that we are skipping over?” he sighed, “Not just with YN’s case?” 
Jay also sighed, his phone buzzing and him looking back at it, carefully lifting it up, then setting it back down, “Not that I know of,” he looked at you, “Is there anything you remember that happened when you were attacked?” 
Jake traced his eyes back and forth between you and Jay and Jay’s phone, tuning out your story, not on purpose, of course, he’s heard you retell your attack multiple times now. The more he hears it, the more pissed he gets. Jay’s phone buzzed again, “Are you going to answer whoever it is that’s spamming you?” Jake said, tilting his head, “It’s been going off nonstop since you’ve been in here.” 
Jay thinned his lips, “I apologize, there’s stuff going on with my family and the arcade.” 
Jake chuckled, “Ahh, the fun arcade.” Jay glared at him, clearly remembering what Jake did in his arcade. 
You rolled your eyes again, tapping your fingers on the table, “This is irritating.” 
Heeseung sat back right in his chair, looking over at you and giving you a small smile, “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours, making Jake’s blood boil, “We’ll catch this guy, yeah?” 
Jake swatted Heeseung’s hand off yours, “Hands off.”’
Heeseung blankly stared at Jake and gave a soft nod, pulling his glasses back to his nose, “I apologize.” 
Jake held both your hands in his now, protecting them from being touched again. Eyeing the fuck out of Heeseung. 
You pushed aside your boyfriend's jealousy, staring at your laptop screen, looking over every piece of evidence, “Wait!” You said, pulling your hands out of Jake’s and typing away at your computer. 
“Find something, honey?” Jake asked, peeking over to your screen. 
“I forgot I put in a request for some specific reports and evidence from all the ghost face cases from start to now,” you could feel Jake shift in his chair, not because you are pulling his murders, but all of them combined. It was genius. It would be an easier way to read each of them and find the differences instead of just looking at the pictures and the news reports and articles or trying to piece each puzzle together on your corkboard. This all-in-one combo could give the advantage needed. Jake could fuck you right here in front of everyone and not give a damn. “I put in the request while in the hospital, they should be ready by now.” 
Heeseung was now towering over your laptop to get a look, but quickly sat down after a glare from Jake. He’s way too easy to fuck with. Jake smirked. 
“They are ready!” You stood from the chair, going to take a step. 
“Woah,” Jake said, grabbing your arm, “Where are you running off to?” 
You looked at your boyfriend, then the other two males, “The police station?” 
“Like hell you are!” Jake snapped, “You aren’t going anywhere!” 
Heeseung looked up at you with pleading eyes, “YN, he’s right. You literally got attacked two weeks ago, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.” 
“Heeseung gets it!” Jake pointed a finger at him, “Sit back down.” 
“We need those papers!” you retort, trying to pry your arm out of his grasp. 
“I’ll go get it,” Jay said, looking back down at his phone again, “I have to stop by the news office anyways and get something from Jungwon before heading out, I’ll bring the reports here right after.” 
You wanted to protest, but with the three of them, you knew you’d lose. So you just nodded, giving him a small “Thank you, Jay.” 
He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled back at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair and walk to the door, “No problem, stinks.” Then he was out the door. 
“Stinks?” both Jake and Heeseung said in unison, both side-eyeing you. 
You shrug, “He said I reeked of dog—aka Jake—the other day before Jake’s cologne was strong and rubbed off on me, then he started calling me stinks.” 
Jake scrunched his nose, “I don’t ever want him calling you that again.” 
Even Heeseung scrunched his nose, “It’s an odd nickname to give someone.” 
You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a big brother, kind of.” 
Jake shook his head, “Nope. We aren’t doing this.” 
“Anyway,” Heeseung said, looking at you with his heart smile, “Want to get some lunch from the cafe on campus?” 
“Absolutely! I’ve been craving their coffee and wanting to try that new raspberry pastry!” 
You pulled out of Jake’s grasp and piled your belongings together and shoved them in your backpack, tossing them over your shoulders. Heeseung did the same, noticing Jake’s glare, “Are you coming as well or?” Heeseung asked. 
“Oh? I’m invited?” Jake scoffed, “You weren’t trying to just get my girlfriend alone with you?” 
Heeseung’s glasses fell down to the bottom of his nose as he continued to pack up his things, looking away from Jake, “Considering you don’t let her have any friends, yeah guess you’re invited too.” 
Jake stood to his feet, not liking that Heeseung was talking back to him right now, “Considering my girlfriend had her life threatened and was stabbed three times, excuse me for not letting her out of my sight,” he counters. 
Heeseung pushed his glasses up, “I get it, but I wouldn’t hurt her. But I get it. That’s why I am extending an invitation to you too. You also could use some friends besides Sunghoon.” 
Jake raised his brow. You looped your arm with Jake’s and Heeseung’s, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Come on you two, let’s just get some food. We can invite Jay and Jungwon too, even Sunoo! Where is he by the way?” You asked, “I know Wonnie had an exam and project to work on from what Jay said, what about the sunshine?” 
Heeseung smiled and shrugged, “Sunoo had class and work later, but don’t worry I’ll get him caught up on everything we talked about today.” 
You nodded, pulling the two boys with you towards the doors, “I’m starving!” 
Jake and Heeseung glanced at each other, allowing you to pull them both towards the cafe. 
Jake crossed his arms, staring up at the corkboard here at the office. It’s almost two-thirty in the morning, and nothing but the moonlight peeking from the windows lit up the room. Jake was thankful you had two exact copies of the corkboard for both the apartment and the office, making it easier than carrying the big damn thing back and forth all the time. 
He glances down at his phone propped on the corner of the corkboard on the railing, all the cameras in the apartment pulled up on the screen. His eyes shift to the one in the bedroom, seeing you fast asleep in your shared bed. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you up and drag you here either, all because he couldn’t sleep and needed to wrap his head around this case. 
Jake pulled the papers you requested from the police station earlier out of his backpack, reading over it. It’s been the fourth time he’s looked at this, rereading over his ghost face cases and the imposters, trying to find the fine line that would point to who this imposter was. But the more he looked over it, the more his brain hurt. 
He tossed the papers to the table, running his hands through his hair. Jake had a mental list of suspects, trying to match each person to the cases, but nothing added up. 
Jake assumed it was someone close, not specifically close to him, but close in a way they’ve known about his crimes for the longest time. Known who he was. Jake’s first suspect was Sunghoon, since his best friend was the one who planted it into your mind of the possibility Jake was the ghost face. But Jake continued to keep tabs on Sunghoon, and he hasn’t done or said anything out of the ordinary for Jake to really actually keep him on the list. So he was shoved out. The others? Full game. 
Jake’s next one on the suspects' list is Jay. Jay had always had a small crush on you, and that hasn’t changed even after working with him on the cases. Not to mention he oddly kept checking his phone today and was so quick to offer to get the papers for you. Either he really was just being a protective brotherly figure to you, or he’s the imposter. Jake also didn’t like the attention Jay gave you, still wanting to string Jay’s body from the ceiling of his arcade. 
Heeseung was the third on the list but also the least of Jake’s concerns. Heeseung was skittish and very shy. Very much in love with you, it was obvious. Heeseung looked as if he was about to crawl into his turtle shell and never come back out. He only spoke when spoken to really, unless he had something to say and even then it was quiet and not munch. His department head was also murdered and he was forced to step up, the likeliness of Heeseung being the imposter was slim. 
The rest Jake had on the list were Danielle, Jungwon, Sunoo, and a few others on his soccer team and people in his classes. 
Jake kept rotating the suspect list, trying to pinpoint exactly who would have such a grudge against him to become a copycat murderer. Someone who clearly wanted to watch him suffer, as the imposter said. 
He ran the statement you told him at the hospital over and over in his head, then looked back at the reports, looking at the corkboard, and then pulled up all the files Jay and Heeseung have shared with everyone on his laptop. 
Something clicked in Jake’s brain. His eyes widened. He quickly typed away at his computer, fingers rushing across the keys and eyes darting over every piece of information that was laid out in front of him. 
He smirked, the corners of his lips curling as a laugh escaped his lips, it echoing against the quiet walls of the office, “No fucking way,” he leaned back in the chair, throwing his hands behind his head, “I got you, imposter.” 
Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure he figured it out, but he knew. He just knew. All Jake needed was the full solid proof. And it was his mission now to figure out a way to get it. 
Jake thought about how he found you two weeks ago, how close you were to death, how close he was to losing you. Jake never was so terrified in his life. Seeing the love and light of his life passing the line of life and death, it killed him. Drove him into a frenzy of wanting to murder every single damn person in this town and the next one over to make sure he got the imposter. But alas, that wasn’t an option. But that didn’t matter now, you would be avenged soon. 
All Jake had to do was make his preparations, which he did before finally heading back to the apartment.  
Jake pressed your body against the cool wall of the shower, your face connecting to the wall with a moan. He wrapped your hair around his hand, pulling your face from the wall, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear as the hot water spilled between your bodies. 
He slid in and out of you with such ease, pulling and yanking at your hair, teeth biting your ear, tongue sliding up and down your ear, soft moans escaping his lips with each thrust and kiss of his tip to your cervix, “Fuck baby, can’t get enough of you.” 
You balanced your hands on the wall, slightly pushing yourself down and lifting back your hips so Jake could pound into you easier, “Jaeeee,” your whimper, “Gonna cum soon.” 
He smirked, “Yeah, babe?” he slowed his thrusts, yanking your hair and forcing your back to connect to his wet chest, “Wanna cum? And make a mess of my cock?” you nod, reaching your hands up and into his wet hair. 
Jake wanted to ruin your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. Fucking you slowly was driving him crazy but oh god it felt so damn good. His breaking became uneven, his moans getting louder. He wanted to cum. To fill your cunt to the brim with his seed and hear your pretty little moans once you feel it seeping out your hole. 
He removed his hand from your hair, sliding his hands down your arms and to your breasts, tracing their outline and flicking your nipples then continued down to your belly and sliding to your waist. 
Jake looked down at your body, loving how it moved with his cock sliding against your walls, eyes taking notice of your stab wounds. Jake locked his jaw as he traced his fingers over the still-healing wounds. Your stitches are gone now, but the scars will now last you forever. A remembrance of what happened to you. A reminder to Jake of what was done to you. 
You felt Jake was disconnected, in some faraway land as he stared down at your wounds, “Jake,” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him, “Look at me,” Your hand touched his cheek and his eyes looked to you, worried filling them, “I’m alive. I’m here and I’m alive thanks to you,” you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down, your lips brushing over his, “You’re literally balls deep in my pussy right now, focus on me.” 
He smirked against your lips, then kissed you hard. Your chest was now back against the wall. One of his hands was on your clit, and the other was on your hip. His hips fucked up into you harder and faster than before, your knees buckling, “Hmm what is it, babe?” He coos in your ear, “You said you wanted to cum, so I’m going to make you cum.” 
You moaned his name on repeat, fingers trying their hardest to grip to the wall and praying your knees don’t give out on you. You just wanted to take a nice warm shower before cuddling with Jake on the couch and watching movies, he obviously had other plans. Pulling back the curtains already naked and cock hard in his hands, eyes leading with you as he stepped into the shower with you, “Baby, I need you to take care of this. Need you so bad.” You weren’t complaining, shower sex then cuddling afterward? Still a win-win. 
His finger of your clit with the help of his cock buried deep inside you, your orgasm approached, coating his cock, “That’s it, such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess on my cock,” he kissed your temple, “I’m fixing to cum, squeeze me tighter, honey.” You clenched around him and he gasped, whimpering out as his breathing became more unsteady. Heart racing as he felt the build-up, cock twitching, “I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.” 
Jake shoved his cock as far as he could into your pussy, hips pressing hard against your ass as his white ropes shot between your gummy walls. Jake already knew he came a lot, he could feel it seeping out your hole and physically see it was dripping down your leg. 
“I came so much,” he whispered and chuckled, slowly pulling out and cupping your cunt with his hand, shoving his fingers inside, “Can’t let it go to waste, wanna breed you.”
You leaned back into your boyfriend and smiled. You wanted to tease him that you were on birth control, but let him smile and kiss you as he continued to fuck your cunt with his fingers. 
You finally were able to convince Jake that it was time to finish the shower and get out, mostly now that the water was cold. Jake stood behind you with nothing but his basketball shorts on, running a brush through your hair as his other hand held the hairdryer. He stopped every couple of minutes to place a kiss on your head and whisper he loved you. He even gave you one of his favorite sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers for you to wear to be comfy. You figured his actions were all the cause of you getting stabbed. Hell if this is what it took for him to be this sweet, you’d get stabbed again(totally not, because that shit sucked. You’d never want to go through it again). 
Once your hair was dry, Jake pulled you into the living room, “Want popcorn, my love?” 
You smiled, giving him a nod, “Of course! Can’t have movie night with…out…” your smile faded. Causing Jake’s smile to fade as well. 
Your eyes widened, everything happening way too fast before you could tell Jake to move. 
Jake felt something was off when he saw how you looked behind him. He quickly whipped around, being met face to face with ghost face, their knife sliding into his chest just below his collar bone. He grunts out in pain, but uses the strength he had to push you away from them and onto the floor, then quickly grasping their wrists. It’s not there… Jake pushed the ghost face back, sending them back a couple of steps away. 
Jake took a few quick deep breaths and pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it across the living room. The ghost face was moving back towards Jake, swinging his fist but missing as Jake ducked down. 
Blood was gushing down his chest, making him lightheaded, and once he was low enough to the ground, his knees betrayed him and gave out, connecting to the floor and hands gripping his wound. 
The ghost face came prepared, pulling another knife from their cloak pocket, and walked up behind Jake, grasping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. Jake gritted his teeth as he stared up at the mask, the knife resting against his throat. 
“Goodbye, Sim.” The voice mod said with a shake in their voice. 
Jake just smiles up at him. 
Time seemed to have slowed for you just then. Your heart racing as you see the imposter hovering over Jake, panic filling you. You were going to watch him kill Jake. They were going to kill Jake then kill you. Your breathing became uneven as you stared at him, watching as he smirked and laughed at the person standing over and about to kill him. How could he be laughing with a knife to his throat? The knife. Where was the knife?
You looked where Jake tossed it at, seeing it near the couch, his blood staining the blade and the carpet it sat beneath. With shaky legs, you stood to your feet, moving as fast as your legs would carry you, picking up the knife. 
The ghost face tilted his head, “What is so funny?” 
“You’re not the ghost face, Park.” 
Before he could respond to Jake, you plunged forward, pushing the knife into his shoulder, his screams filling the apartment and his blood coating your face as you yanked the knife out. With all your strength you pulled at the cloak, digging your foot into the back of his knee and sending him to the ground. 
The moment his back touched the floor, you straddled over his abdomen, the knife piercing into his chest, pushing it further in into the hilt touching his skin. 
“Wait! Fuck please wait!” 
You snarled. He just stabbed your boyfriend and nearly killed you weeks ago and he had the guts to beg? Fuck. This. 
You pulled the knife out and shoved it back in, “You think you can just beg for your life now?” You snapped. 
“It’s Jay!! Please, YN, STOP!!” You sat still, feeling Jay’s hands on your thighs. He gasped for air and you went back to panicking. 
You quickly pulled the mask off his face, seeing the sweat build up on his forehead and blonde hair sticking to his face. Blood dripped out of his mouth and fear covered every inch of his face. 
“It’s…you…” you whispered. 
Jay shook his head to the best of his ability, “I’m not the ghost face.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Jake said, standing behind you, eyes burning into Jay, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived?” 
Jay gasped more for air, more blood spilling from his chest and shoulder wounds. 
“Jake, call an ambulance!!” You snapped, pulling the knife from Jay’s chest and pressing your hands to the wounds, “NOW!! You need help too!” 
Jake held the pressure still to his chest and repeated, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived, Jay Park.” 
Jay took as deep of a breath as he could, squeezing your thighs, “I didn’t. The real ghost face called me one night, telling me he knew who I was, and who my family was, saying he had a job for me.” 
Jake narrowed his eyes, “Keep fucking talking.” 
“I laughed and ended the call. A few days later a duffle bag filled with money appeared on my front porch, with a note telling me to answer my phone, so when it rang, I answered, hearing that stupid voice mod on the other end,” he gasped for air again, “They mentioned the job again, and that the money was my payment. I asked what the job was, and they told me to kill you, Sim.” 
Jake’s face was unchanged, but your heart was racing. You stared at Jay, his eyes looking back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. 
“I declined at first, I couldn’t take him away from you, YN. No matter my feelings for you I couldn’t do it. I donated the money to charity and went on about my business. The next day you were attacked.” 
You kept the pressure on his chest, tears now filling your eyes, “Jay…” 
“After that I tried calling the number over and over, figuring it was a burner phone. But once you returned back to campus, I started receiving text messages,” You recalled the memory, Jay’s phone constantly buzzing and Jake snapping at him to answer it, “The texts told me that if I didn’t kill Sim, they would kill not just YN, but my family. They sent me photos of my parents at their jobs, photos of my friends in their homes, and photos of Jungwon in the new rooms. Photos of YN the day she was stabbed walking into campus and then photos of her bleeding out on the sidewalk and the last photo of you Sim, from the journaling office, wearing the exact clothes you did the day I received all those texts, meaning the killer had to be nearby.” 
Jake processed the information and then kneeled down to Jay’s face, “How did you find out where we lived?” 
“They sent me your address,” he swallowed but then coughed, the red liquid now dripping down his neck, “They gave me a time frame on when I had to do it. Told me the password to the gates of the apartment complex, which building, floor, and apartment number.” 
Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “And you thought you could just walk in here and kill me? Don’t you know who I am? That I’m fucking insane. Mostly when my girl's life is on the line?” 
Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a groan, “Trust me, after the day you fucked her in my arcade I knew you were fucking crazy.” Jay’s words were now shuddering, his voice becoming softer, “I was…scared. I couldn’t…lose my family and friends.” 
“Who is the ghost face?” Jake tested. 
“I…don’t…know.” 
You looked up at Jake, begging him, “Call an ambulance, Jake. Please!” you started crying, blaming yourself for if Jay died, “Jake!” 
Jake stood, taking a few steps back. He understood Jay’s desperation. If some wack ass killer in a white mask and black suit told him to murder someone or else they would kill you, he’d do every task they asked of him. 
“Where is your phone?” He asked Jay.
Jay couldn’t form words, but nodded to his pocket. You let go of his chest for enough time to pull the phone from the cloak, Jake taking it from your hands, the phone soaked red. 
You continued to beg Jake to call an ambulance, tears staining your face as more of Jay’s blood stained the carpet and Jake’s eyes started to unfocus. 
You sat on the table in the office, kicking your feet back and forth and fingers gripping the edge of the table. A knock hit the door, and you looked in its direction, “Come in.” 
Heeseung popped his head in, glasses falling to the tip of his nose, “You called a meeting?”
You smiled and nodded, “Come on in.” 
Heeseung fully walked in, taking a look around the room, “Where is everyone else?” He asked, raising his brow. 
“They should be here soon,” you leaned back a bit against the table, “It’s just you and me for right now.” 
Heeseung awkwardly nodded, fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and looking down to the floor. 
“Why don’t you come over here?” You playfully said, “Set your stuff done and come here.” The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. He nodded again and dropped his bag to the floor. 
Heeseung stood across from you, leaning against the filing cabinet, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 
You look him up and down, “Jake told me you had a crush on me.” 
Heeseung’s eyes widened, ears burning red, “H-He what? That’s silly, YN.” He looked away from you and back to the floor. 
“You don’t have to lie to me, Seungie,” he looked back up at you. You spread your legs apart, “What if I told you I felt the same way?” Heeseung swallowed, eyes trailing down to your bare legs, shorts riding up your crotch, “Come here, Hee.” 
Heeseung pushed himself off the cabinet and walked up to you. 
You tilted your head, “Come closer.” You shot your eyes down between your legs and back up to his face. 
Heeseung took a step back, “No, we can’t do this.” 
“Jake won’t find out,” you whispered, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him between your legs. 
You wrapped them around his hips, locking him into place. You kept your fingers on his collar, pulling him closer, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased him, blowing your breath onto his glasses, watching them fog up. 
Heeseung shot his hands to your thighs, “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, the fog lifting off his glasses, revealing his blown-out eyes. 
You scooted yourself closer, your ass barely hanging off the table, and pulled him even closer with your legs, his hard length now pressing to your stomach. You smirked, “A little excited, are we?” 
Heeseung’s hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and yanking you closer, shifting himself to press his length to your heat, “I told you to not tease me.” 
You snaked your hands up to his neck, playing with his hair, “I have to be honest, I didn’t call a meeting. Only you.” 
Heeseung cutely giggled, thumbs rubbing the plush of your skin, “Only me?” 
You nodded, “Come closer.” 
Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, “I want to kiss you so bad…can I?” 
You brushed your lips back, “Can I tell you something first?” 
He rocked his hips against you, “Anything.” 
“How did it feel?” Heeseung moves away a few inches, looking at you in confusion, “How did it feel to stab me three times and leave me for dead, Mr. Ghost face?” 
His hand was now in your hair, pulling your head back and a yelp escaped your mouth. 
Everything about Heeseung changed. His body straightened out, face from relaxed to hard, jaw locked and eyes piercing. You looked up at him in fear, and he just laughed. 
“You finally figured me out huh?” even his voice was different. It was no longer the cute bubbly tone, but now it was chilling and cold. He pulled your hair back further, giving you no choice but to look at him, “Or should I say, the original figured me out.” 
You swallowed, “Why did you do it? I trusted you.” 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Heeseung smirked, lifting his other hand from your thigh and caressing your face, the watch you’ve seen before sitting on his wrist perfectly, “Why did I do it? Do what? Gotta be more specific.” 
You’ve done this dance before with Jake, “Why did you commit those murders? Why did you stab me?” 
He smirked even wider, “Because it was fun,” his voice sent chills down your spine, “And for why I stabbed you?” he leaned forward, brushing his nose to your jaw, “Because I wanted to watch the love of my life bleed out.” His breath formed goosebumps on your neck and he chuckled, gently planting a kiss on your neck, “It was so easy to convince Jay to break into your apartment,” he stood back up, “All I had to do was threaten your life. You have a lot of crazy people in your corner, don’t you, sweetheart?” 
You took a few deep breaths in, trying to stay calm, “You wanted Jake to suffer, why?” 
Heeseung leaned back inches away from your face, “Because he has something that I want, a few things, actually.” He ran his hand back down to your thigh, snaking his fingers under your shorts, “Where is he, by the way? Does he know where you are right now? He is a crazy fucking dog after all.” You glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder. 
“This crazy fucking dog is right behind you,” Jake hissed, a knife now pressing to Heeseung’s throat, “And I suggest you back the fuck off my girlfriend before I start barking and slit your throat.” 
Heeseung released his hands off you, slowly backing away with Jake, “Where the fuck did you come from?” 
Jake chuckled, patting Heeseung’s back, “This is my office, you don’t think I don’t know every inch of this room from top to bottom to hide in? For a serial killer, you’re fucking stupid.” 
Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Go to hell.” 
Jake pressed the blade more into his skin, “It’s crazy how you were able to mimic everything I did, even down to the weapon and clothes, stalker much?” 
“Had to learn somehow,” Heeseung countered with a smirk, “At least I succeeded in almost killing YN, versus you folding the minute her legs were spread.” 
“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jake barked, “I will spill your blood so fucking fast don’t try me.” 
The rage Jake was feeling at this moment, the rage that was boiling, and every instinct telling him to slide Heeseung’s throat for the hell he’s put him through. For hurting you. 
Heeseung laughed, “Your buttons are so easy to push when YN is involved.” 
You pierce your eyes into him, “If Jake doesn’t kill you, I will!” 
Heeseung tilted his head back, “Like how you almost killed Jay?” 
That statement was enough proof to show Heeseung had access to your cameras, he was watching the entire thing unfold. 
“Anyway,” Jake clicked his tongue, “Where is your sidekick?” 
Heeseung chuckled, “My what?” 
Jake sighed, “Should we ask Sunoo about it instead? I know he’s outside that door. Ain’t that right, Sun?” 
The door opened and a smiling Sunoo walked in, “Figured us both out that easily?” 
“We figured Heeseung had help,” you said, pushing yourself off the table and picking up his backpack and placing it on the table, “Jake and I discussed this plenty at the hotel room we’ve been in the last couple nights, that he had to have help. Heeseung was too calm while Jay’s phone was getting spammed. Heeseung didn’t even have his phone out. How did he receive those texts?” 
You opened the backpack, seeing a laptop, one textbook, and the ghost face mask. You looked at Sunoo, “You’re the one who sent the texts to Jay and helped Heeseung track us at all times. You have your own mask too, don’t you? Hiding it in the investigation room?” 
Sunoo kept his smile, “It was there,” he shot his eyes to Jake, “But I’m assuming it’s no longer there.” 
Jake smirked, “You think I’d let some fucking copycats steal my thunder? Nah.” He removed the knife from Heeseung’s throat, and pushed him away, quickly grabbing you and pulling you to his side, “Besides,” Jake chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and looking down at the knife, “All the evidence I have against you was already turned into the police. Sunoo’s gear too. And now that we have your gear,” Jake tossed the knife to the table, “The cops have everything they needed.” 
The sounds of running filled the hallways, enough proof that the police had finally arrived. Heeseung and Sunoo didn’t loosen their glares off you and Jake even as their wrists got cuffed and they were dragged out of the office. 
Jake pulled you into a hug, his breath hitching, “It’s over,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s finally over.” 
You hugged your boyfriend tightly, “I’m proud of you for not killing him.” 
Jake chuckled, “Trust me, honey, it took a lot to not.” 
A few investigators questioned you and Jake, then sent you on your way. You and Jake were able to walk home freely with no worries. 
Heeseung and Sunoo were on the news that night, video footage of them being pushed into the police cars and being hauled off, the newsman discussing each murder case, including the ones Jake committed. Each victim is named in tribute to the killer finally being caught. 
You laid on top of Jake on your shared couch, the bandages from his stab wound Jay gave him peeked out of his hoodie. You traced your fingers over it, “Does it still hurt?” 
Jake shifted his gaze from the TV to you, “Not as much as what it felt like when I thought you’d died.” 
You traced your fingers over his face, stopping at his lips, him kissing the pads of your fingers. 
“You won’t have to ever feel that feeling again,” you reassured him. 
Jake nodded, wrapping his arms around you, “I know. I won’t let anyone harm you again,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and softly chuckled, “I am proud of you for how you lured him in, his shyness and awkwardness might have all been fake and an act, but the way you reeled in him and played with his feelings? Those were so true. You should be an actor, for real.” 
You roll your eyes at him, “I want to be an investigative journalist, don’t have time for acting.”
Jake cupped your face and kissed you gently, “And you’ll make one hell of one too.” 
The kiss went from passionate and soft, to deep and hard. Jake pulled your and his clothes off until you were both bare and you straddled his lap, riding his cock and pinning his hands above his head against the armrest. Jake was a moaning and gasping mess as you continued to ride, letting you have full control. 
You smiled down at your serial killer, watching as his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly when he came. 
Everything was perfect and how it should be.
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— 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 @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @zeeloveshee
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ANCIENT wip that i finally got around to splashin color onto. NO idea where this colorin style came from n it WONT happen again!! anyway i LOOOVE the general dynamic between arthur n emizel. both are so cool and so awesome and yet SO silly...
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melbatron5000 · 2 days
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The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
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cupcakeinat0r · 2 days
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Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3
pt. 6
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The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.
You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring. 
Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.
Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:
Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.
“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,
“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.
“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork. 
“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.
“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.
Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.
Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway. 
Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.
“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction. 
If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.
<3 
   You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring.  Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.
His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.  
“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.
“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting. 
“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.  
"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.
Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position. 
You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves. 
“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”
“How do you do it?” you ask. 
“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.”  Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”
“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him). 
“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.  
“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”
“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.
“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.
“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?” 
He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so. 
“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.
Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this. 
He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.
With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.
That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other. 
The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…
An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.
Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.
He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.
“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers. 
He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"
"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.
"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.
“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.
“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.
“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”
“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, makin’ me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).
“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.
“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile. 
“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?” 
Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you. 
“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn. 
“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.
“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?” 
He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls. 
You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book. 
He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries. 
“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’. 
He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.
Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.
You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something. 
“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.” 
“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.
“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.” 
The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks. 
“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.
“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him. 
You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.
Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.
 “Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper. 
“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter). 
Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind. 
“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”
As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days. 
In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.
a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)
Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3
<3 Tags <3
@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e @tinythebunni
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AITA for leaving an angry comment on a fanfic?
To recognize: 🤢🤮😡🤬👎
So I'm (19F) a fandom where the canon ship is my notp. I find some aspects of the ship abusive and reminds me of my relationship with my ex that I'm seeing a therapist for. No shades for people who like it, but I prefer my ships on the fluffy side. So instead I have another ship for this fandom, which is not canon obviously, and is a rarepair. Finding fanart and fanfic for my OTP is very hard. But that's alright. I make my own art and I'm spreading love for it.
One time I came across a fanfic of my OTP. I was overjoyed. I didn't let my excitement take over, I made sure to read the tags on the fic first, to make sure there's nothing that squicks me but it was all good.
I start reading the fanfic. My boy wants to confess but is shy, okay, a slowburn. I continued reading, reading, reading, no sign of a confession or even a single interaction for my OTP, no problem, it will sure happen later, so I continued reading, reading, reading. Surely the author is saving the fluffiness for the end, right? I have to be patient, fanfic authors are unpaid and don't owe me a thing.
I reached the last paragraph of the fic and not a single interaction yet, no only that, but my NOTP started dating as a result of the MC not taking even a single action, all of sudden. The fic ends like that, the boy is heartbroken because he do it first.
I was livid, my NOTP showed up in a fic that was supposed to be about my OTP. I scrolled up to the tag list again to make sure I didn't miss the ship tag and yes. I was correct. The author thought it was a good idea to hide the ship because spoilers.
So I made a a comment that's basically this: how dare you make me read this with my own eyes? Why did you not tag NOTP also this fic has zero ship content so why did you even bother putting it in the tag. Tag your fic correctly next time at least warn us when there's another ship. Delete your fic from the tags for God's sake.
Apparently this writer was new or something and they apologized but didn't even bother to correct the tags after reading the comment.
I'm probably TA because the comment may have been means but I feel justified because I didn't consent to reading about my notp and I have it blacklisted everywhere and I even skip scenes when I watch it to avoid, but here it was without a warning so it's not a case of don't like don't read.
AITA?
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nicksbestie · 3 days
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Kittens (part two) - M. Sturniolo
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READ PART ONE FIRST!! YOU CAN READ IT HERE!
Summary : One specific person becomes a regular at the animal shelter you work at, always visiting the cats <3
Warnings : mentions of anxiety but nothing graphic!
Word Count : 1146
Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader
A/N : part two!! this won't become a series but i felt it deserved a little more!! it's written in a later time, a epilogue scene, if you will!
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The cats being in a different room that day had been one of the best things to ever happen to you.
You hadn’t known it at the time, but that conversation with Matt, starting by leading him to a separate room, had blossomed into a relationship. Matt had started coming back every day, coming up with stupid reasons to talk to you, claiming he needed help finding a cat that had run away, only for the cat to walk right out from under the tower when Matt walked back in, but you let him do it every time. You felt like you couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend time with him, and if you weren’t busy, why should you?
He spent hours there every day, which made you wonder what he did for work, because how could he afford to not be at his job? After a couple of days where he came in one after another, you finally asked. It felt like a fair question because he clearly knew where you worked, so it was an eye for an eye, or something like that. He told you he did content creation with his brothers, and you looked him up later that evening, eyes nearly popping out of your head when you noticed just how famous they were. You weren’t someone who lived in the dark, but you didn’t keep up with every new thing going on, so there were a ton of famous people you didn’t know about. 
You weren’t going to lie, you stalked him that night. One thing hit you like a truck when you noticed it, though. Matt had told you that he came into the shelter when his anxiety was getting bad, and he had been coming in every Wednesday and Friday per week, and as you scrolled through their shared YouTube, you noticed that’s when videos were posted. You wondered how much he enjoyed his job, or if he did it because it made good money, or if the posting just really got to him because he worried about what people would think. Later you would ask, and you would learn that the latter was the reason, and that he really did love his job, it just got to him sometimes, knowing that so many people would pick apart everything he had done or said in a video. 
After about two weeks of him coming back to the shelter every single day, talking to you whenever he could, he finally asked for your number. He waited until you were off of the clock, making sure that he could never be accused of being unprofessional by anyone. He waited until the shelter closed, like normal, and you thought he had left, but he waited until you both stepped outside, and the door was locked, and then he asked. You let him have it with no complaints, and he texted you for the first time as soon as he got home, asking if you had also made it home safe. You responded much quicker than you would like to admit, letting him know you were home and safe. 
He would text you before he would come into the shelter, letting you know that he was on the way, and you two became incredibly close. Hanging out outside of work, spending time while he was at the shelter, if you were in the same vicinity, you were practically attached at the hip. You met his brothers, and they were so different from him that it was refreshing. You loved how they all got along so well, and even their banter in videos wasn’t coming from a true point of anger, but all lighthearted. You watched every video as they got posted, and sometimes all four of you hung out together before or after filming. You loved being in their company, and you had found a wonderful friend in Matt, but you had no idea that it would eventually become more than that. 
You’d hung out so much on your own, you knew you two worked together, you both knew that the other was attractive, you both knew that you liked the other. But you had no idea that it would eventually end up working out. Nick and Chris knew as well, being able to see it in the way that you interacted with each other. They kept it to themselves, allowing you two to navigate the developments of your relationship with each other by yourselves, but both of them were hoping that you would just get your head out of your ass already and get together. Matt was the first one to say anything. 
You knew he found love gestures sweet, you’d seen that in a video, and you’d seen it in the way that he interacted with people he loved platonically, being a gift giver, but when he showed up at your door with flowers, you were still in shock. He’d stayed the night that evening, soaking in the fact that the person he felt so strongly for had the same feelings for him. It had only snowballed in the best possible way from there. You did everything together, you went everywhere together, and sometimes that could cause codependency problems, but you were lucky to not have to deal with that. You were used to him leaving for a couple of hours to film, but he always came back as quickly as possible. 
It was refreshing for Matt to fall in love with someone who didn’t love him for the numbers, for the following, for the money, for the fame. This was someone who saw him off guard, who actually loved him for the person he was off of the camera, for all of the good in him and all of the bad. He wasn’t sure that he would ever find someone like this due to his popularity across the Internet, but he never took you for granted, not for a single moment. And those were the words that spilled out from between his lips, when he was knelt in front of you, ring box in hand, just three amazing years later, and the same ones that he would repeat at the altar six months after that. 
You didn’t work at the animal shelter anymore, but you and Matt were regular visitors and volunteers. Some of the people that you used to work with were still there, and shortly after you were wed, you picked out a kitten together, from the same Cat Cottages that Matt used to sit in for hours every week. Glancing over at the man you’d fallen in love with, sitting on the couch with the now one year old black cat in his lap, you knew that had been the best job you would ever work, and it brought you something much more rewarding than the money.
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bella-goths-wife · 1 day
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I feel like we should have an actor au for the pet series where like the vees actors comfort the actor (who is the reader) after really distressing scenes I just like imagine vals actor being so sweet after the scene where val locked pet in a room with him to make her panic idk just a thought I would love to see because even though I luv the story line it always kills me when there is no comfort after things that happen even though sometimes they do comfort her it just makes me feel so icky and I feel like having an actor au will help people like me so that we can still enjoy it, with the reminder in the back of our heads that it is not real because even though its not real it still kinda feels real if you know what i mean because I get really immersed in x reader stories. I know this is a lot but just a suggestion no pressure I will still read and love it either way
I actually think this is a fun way to comfort the readers without straying from canon, I think I’ll probably do one for each of the characters each
Also they all have the same names as their characters :)
Vs pet actor au (Valentino version)
Warnings: val is worried, pet acts panicked, crying, non canon events,
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“Come here princesa” val coos in his characters voice to your character as you act out a fake shiver of fear
You act out the scene of abuse with fake tears streaming down your face. The scene was one that you had been nervous about for weeks, having known that it was a disturbing scene to watch and film.
In the scene, vals character had locked your character in a room with him to imply that he would possibly assault her like he had done to angels character to cause her to panic and breakdown.
You and val had gone over lines together in your trailer and lamented about how it would be a rough filming day for the two of you, considering you had the punishment scene to film just after.
But you put on a brave face as you acted out your scene with minimal distraction. You followed the script and your weeping character sat beside Val on the soft couch as the camera did a close up on your face to ensure they captured the panic in your eyes and the quiver in your bitten lips.
as it came time for val’s character Valentino to touch your thigh in a menacing implication, he did so and you felt a shiver uncomfortably run through you.
You suddenly became hyper aware of the people behind the cameras who had their eyes peeled on you, and how the pink lighting shined so brightly on you.
As your cue came to jump into val’s arms, you froze completely with your face lowered to your thigh and tears running down your cheeks.
“Cut” the director called out and it broke you out your frozen daydream
“Everything okay kid?” Val whispers with a concerned look as he removes his hand from your thigh
“I don’t think I can do it” you whisper back through tears as you face your back to the cameras
“Everything okay up there guys?” The director called out with a concerned expression
Val uses his wings to hide your face and tucked you against his chest before he answered, making sure to spare you any embarrassment.
“We’re gonna need a 15 minute break” val called back politely “private please”
The director nodded with an understanding look before calling most of the set to go on a break away from the filming Scene.
Val turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder.
“Are you okay kid?” Val asks with a worried look as he pulls you away from his chest to observe your expression
“Yeah” you say with a shaky inhale as you wipe your tearful eyes with your palm “it all got a bit much for me”
“I get it kid, it’s a hard scene to film for everyone” val says with a nod and a soothing tone “that’s why I tried to put it off for as long as possible”
“I’m just not used to doing scenes like this guess” you say with a sigh “I had the same problem with Vox during our panic scene, I think it just gets too much for me”
“Your playing a very difficult role honey, it’s understandable that you’ll get a bit freaked out during your scenes” val says gently
“I can’t believe I made them stop shooting, I bet they’re all so mad at me now” you say with an embarrassed groan “I should have just continued”
“Hey, hey, no one is mad at you” val says with a reassuring tone “your having to put yourself in very disturbing scenarios, you have every right to stop filming when you feel uncomfortable and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t got a clue about how much work these scenes take”
You nod with a frown, still embarrassed about your freak out, Val notices and wraps his arm around your shoulder
“How about we go get some water and then go talk to the intimacy coordinator about how we can make it feel less overwhelming” val suggests with a smile “or we can try and ask if we could use your body double for the scenes where my hand is physically touching you”
“Yeah” you say with a small nod and a smile “let’s go talk to the intimacy coordinator please”
“Of course sweetheart” val says with a gentle smile as he wraps his hand and wing around your shoulders and begins to guide you to the door.
You managed to work out a way to make the scene to work after a few different attempts and you captured your best shots before retreating to your trailer with Val in tow as you both celebrated a successful scene by eating food while you had your wigs, makeup and costumes removed.
After that day, Val made it a point to always be present during your harder scenes and was always checking in on you during the breaks between takes. He also made sure to update the intimacy coordination on your preferences so they could be added to your filming contract.
You were the youngest of the actors he was working with, and he wanted to make sure you were completely protected while on set.
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Should I do more?
Sorry it’s so short 😭
Tag list:
@the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @ivebeenthearchersstuff @hazbinhotelxreader @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @rerarlo @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs
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sepublic · 20 hours
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Speaking of; The Owl House's pitch bible got leaked as well! So while I look for the rest of it, let’s examine some interesting tidbits I found on Proto-Belos, or 'Obron' as he was once known, and William AKA Proto-Hunter!
Can I just say, I'm quite smug to know that Belos resurrecting the Titan as his endgame was always the original plan? I called it from the start! It was also kinda obvious, but c'mon. The Bionicle fan in me was obsessed.
I'm not surprised about the mentions of Pupa, or the name Obron or even the appearance; We've actually seen all of this before! But what does make me curious is the mention of two other councilors... So there's supposed to be a trio? Again, I always bring up the three statue motif in my speculation about the original plans of the show, I wonder if there's any connection there. Would Kikimora have been one of the other councilors, and who would've been the third? And it seems the coven system was always a thing, early on at least.
Yeah, the mention of '500 years' and the connection to William, etc. Even as Obron he was supposed to have been a human witch hunter turned actual witch. Comparing this to the pilot we got, it may not be Obron that the characters are referring to, since he's not the Emperor. But maybe he declared himself Emperor since he was basically the only one in charge by that point.
Makes me wonder if he hates humans under the delusion of 'I hate modern humans'. He hates what humanity has become and he's taking out his anger on modern humans; We also know the main reason he wants Luz in the pilot, to awaken the Titan. I presume Obron preserved William in stasis and hid him away, only for Luz to wake him up earlier than intended. I can imagine the scene/episode where Obron realizes William has been awake and roaming about for a while now...
There's the confirmation that Prince William and Hunter are the same character, or were. As I guessed, his witch-hunting tendencies would've been established early on as a strange gag, a quirk, only to become so much more darkly significant. I wonder if in this draft, Obron's past as a witch hunter also has relevance; Does he think he's 'saving' humanity by using the Titan to conquer both worlds, wiping out the denizens of one? Also him being a feral kid subsisting off of food given to him by friends is such Labyrinth Runners vibes. Was William always going to have his dynamic with Willow, given Luz plays a bigger role in him opening his mind?
Given we had a 'proof of concept' animation leaked a while back, I wonder if that was an even earlier draft to the pitch bible, given William is PRINCE William. Maybe he's meant to be an actual European human, because European bigotry towards witches existed back then I think, even if it wasn't as pronounced. And Obron does bear a resemblance to one of the Proto-Belos designs, though I'm not sure which came first.
…Huh. Would William have been Obron’s nephew or. God. Would he have been his brother. And while William never grew up because magical stasis, Obron did and now sees his brother be the exact same but also change. Man. And William just has to reconcile, when he gets his memories back, the jump from his brother, a kid like him, to Obron. So we still got the desperate attempt to preserve his brother, only for his brother/Hunter to ‘betray’ him.
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usereddie · 2 days
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explain couch theory for dummies please
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alright!!!
basically, couch theory started last season in 6x01. we got a snippet of the script for the buckley diaz scene at the beginning of the episode, where buck, eddie, and christopher are all having dinner together, and christopher teases buck for not having a couch.
buck is upset that bobby didn't consider him for interim captain and goes "i just wanna know what these other candidates have that apparently i don't."
christopher goes "buck, you don't even have a couch."
buck explains that the last two couches came with girlfriends (to which eddie replies "i think you mean the last two girlfriends came with couches.") because ali picked his couch when he got the loft, and they kept taylor's couch after she moved in, meaning that when she moved out, she took the couch with her.
the theory REALLY starts, though, when eddie points out that buck and taylor broke up months ago, he could've replaced the couch by now.
and buck gets a soft look in his eyes as he looks at eddie and goes "well, maybe i don't want to pick the wrong couch again."
that's kind of the root of the whole couch theory.
there's another scene in 6x01 where buck mentions not having a couch to bobby and saying he doesn't want to make a mistake again, referring to life experience.
essentially, the couch metaphor is actually something that happens in canon throughout season 6. the couch theory is the spin off of that metaphor, where it's very obvious that eddie is the damn couch.
throughout the season, there's this theme of buck searching for the right couch. it continues at the very end of the coma episode (6x11), when the buckley parents ask buck why he doesn't have a couch after they come home from the hospital.
we find out in this scene that maddie is aware of the couch metaphor because she goes "oh, that story is too long to tell while standing."
we then get a scene in the following episode (6x12) while buck's in recovery, of him trying and failing to get comfortable on his couch.
in this episode, the 118 and co are showing up to buck's apartment to keep him company, a system created by maddie to make sure buck is fine and that he's not by himself while he recovers from the lightning strike and coma.
buck doesn't want all this attention, though, and, eventually, gets fed up and goes to eddie's house.
where he immediately gets comfortable on his couch, and falls asleep before eddie even brings the beers out.
it did make the fandom lose it, thanks so much for asking.
not directly related to the couch theory, but after buck wakes up on eddie's couch, they talk about the shooting for the first time since it happened.
couch theory kind of continues throughout the season. there's a scene that's essentially a beat by beat parallel of buck falling asleep on eddie's couch with christopher falling asleep on the couch, and the buckley diaz family implications went crazy with that one.
seriously, i'm not kidding. beat by beat.
the writers, actors, producers, etc were all aware of what the fandom thought about the couch theory and how it related to buddie, also. couches were mentioned in interviews, tweets were liked, it was a whole thing.
but, i'm assuming whatever oliver says in today's (april 25th) article about the couch theory is gonna be a little more....buddie specific than anything was during s6.
anyway, after buck falling asleep on eddie's couch everyone sort of hoped for a continuation of the couch arc that involved eddie, because obviously eddie was the couch. you have buck, who didn't want to pick the wrong couch again, who couldn't even get comfortable on the couch his parents bought him, immediately fall asleep the second he sat on eddie's couch?
insanity!!!!!! it was crazy!!!!!
i don't remember if anything happened between 6x13-6x17 that was directly in canon. obviously the fandom kept going with the couch theory, speculating all the ways that the couch could mean buddie canon (there's a lot of fic from s6 that's full of couch metaphors and couch mentions)(my fics, too).
kameron gives birth to the sperm donor baby on buck's couch, also.
i forget that detail.
anyway, end of 6x18, buck and natalia are sitting on his balcony and he turns to her and asks if she wants to go buy a couch.
people died that day.
that's more or less it. i'm sure there's more that i'm missing, but essentially, the couch theory is the idea that eddie is buck's couch, the couch representing a romantic relationship.
or, not just a romantic relationship, but the right one. buck's couch is buck settling down, finding someone to spend the rest of forever with, a family, a home.
and then he got that in eddie's house, but he was too blind to see it.
alright. i think that's it! hope it made sense :)
let's pray today's interview doesn't kill us all
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kitskiis · 17 hours
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I think the saddest part about secret life Joel is just how futile all of his actions are in that season. On a surface level i mean stuff like all of his more careful gameplay being cancelled out by a singular failed tnt trap but on a deeper level i specifically mean how that character contrasts with last life Joel. Joel is undoubtedly at his lowest point in the life series in Last Life. He goes down to red in session 2 and spends the majority of the rest of the season alone (and when he does have allies it’s only bc of a shared bloodlust). The red bloodlust completely takes over and this festers for nearly *8 sessions*. Not only that but the one time he is given a chance to restart and go back to yellow his old alliance member goes to red, leaving him alone again, and he is made boogeyman the next session. This, overall, has lasting consequences (he actually wanted to be fairly friendly at the beginning of LL, a stark contrast to how bloodthirsty he was at the beginning of DL or Lim L), and gained him a reputation that has never fully gone away. This is especially bad bc most people agree that LL was the most violent season (despite the lower kill counts in comparison to LimL) and was generally the worst and most traumatizing experience in the games for most people involved. Compare this to secret life, which everyone agrees was definitely the happiest season for Joel (or at least the most normal. His life is a tragedy no matter the season.) he has allies that (for the most part rip mumbo) stick with him until the end, he is friendlier with a larger group of people, and when he initially has to deal with the loss of some of them he has people who can ground him (bc as much as I adore the bad boys, grian was not qualified to do that). He was so hopeful that season, and was generally in a much healthier place mentally. And yet, despite how much he seemed to have grown, those 2 seasons ended so similarly for him it was almost comical. Joel engaged in a fight at the end, watched his ally get killed by scott, and is then forced into a 2v1 against Scott and another player that results in Scott taking his final life and him finishing 5th overall. I was describing both of those seasons here. After everything he did to grow, after all the improvements he had made, everything ended *exactly the same*
Making this about the bad boys for a second (because I’m me) they kinda suffer similar fates. Grian learned in the most tragic way possible that his allies were doomed to fail as long as he was with them no matter what, that this was not something that he could control by simply avoiding killing them himself. Even when he actively tries to save them (“let Tim do it he needs the time” “Joel you can kill me!”) he’ll still lose them in the end. I think this realization is also what made him stop trying to fight it, which resulted in him killing or almost killing his allies from previous seasons immediately afterwards (stabbing scar in the back and that one scene where grian kinda ominously jumps with a sword like he was about to crit and kill bigb after finding out he had 50 seconds left on his timer). It’s sorta like a way of telling the universe “fine. You win”
Similarly Jimmy. Well. I don’t think I need to explain that one. Even when he was given hope that things could be different, that he could break the curse, he died only a few minutes later. I still hold on to the narrative that the watchers only allowed that to happen to give Jimmy false hope that things can be different only to rip the rug out from under him and drive home the point that he is in a losing battle because by the time of secret life Jimmy was one of the only few people who genuinely still believed he had a chance. Obviously this is not something that can fully be a reality until he goes out first next season so if he doesn’t that’s a little awkward but just work with me here
TLDR; here is reason number 672 on why I believe the bad boys are the most doomed motherfuckers on this server and their alliance is a modern tragedy
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echos-gal · 2 days
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ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!
(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)
SEASON 2:
right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???
in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.
one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....
Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)
Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.
"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?
Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.
i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.
SEASON 3:
this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.
"domicile." that is all.
CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.
"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.
CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.
he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.
it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.
FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:
firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.
Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.
the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!
we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."
Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.
feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.
likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.
CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.
it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.
we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.
this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.
leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.
FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!
give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!
we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!
the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.
Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?
yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎
the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.
FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE
it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.
i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.
secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)
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periwinkla · 2 days
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I'm replaying 3-4 at the moment, and had the strangest sense of déjà-vu: Gumshoe: Wh-Where did you find that, sir!? Edgeworth: On Dusky Bridge. I was there first, and decided to conduct my own investigation.
Gumshoe: Wh-Why...? Why didn't you tell me?
Edgeworth: I made a decision to keep all pieces of evidence in my personal satchel. It's the safest place I know.
Armando: Hmph! That hot-shot sure has a flair for the dramatic... ...now look at this from 3-2:
Godot: Ha...! The broach you're talking about... Do you mean this?
Gumshoe: Ah...!
Phoenix: Th-That's...! Mask☆DeMasque's broach!
Judge: Wh-Where did you find it!?
Godot: Well I've always had a good nose for evidence... I got it at the crime scene. It was hidden in the shadow of a big female Buddha statue.
Phoenix: ("Buddha statue"...? He must mean the Ami Fey statue.)
Gumshoe: Wh-Why didn't you tell me about that, sir!?
Godot: ...I always put evidence away in my pocket. ...After all, it's the safest place for crucial evidence.
Maya: Grrr... This guy is one cool customer. This has got to be deliberate. There is no way it's a coincidence. So the guy probably decided to employ Edgeworth's tactics while switching to prosecution. Maybe because he was the only one to ever succeed in getting a guilty verdict against Phoenix? Remember that this is the same shameless guy who also spread the rumor that according to Edgeworth, he was the best prosecutor in the country now that Edgeworth was abroad. Edgeworth didn't even know of his existence. This is so funny to me.
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So I was thinking about how ATLA inverted the favored sibling trope -if u can call it a trope-. Like usually in fiction, it's the older sibling that is the favorite and the younger one is kind of the underdog. And then I realized that they didn't only invert it they also subtly executed the classic version of it. It's never said explicitly but in the one scene, where we see Ozai and Azulon interact with each other, it is abundantly clear that Azulon favors Iroh - his older son- and completely dismisses Ozai. Ozai is the one lacking, Ozai can't do anything right in his father's eyes.
And now we go one generation further, Ozai is now an admittedly terrible father to two children. Zuko and Azula, and who does he favor?!
THE YOUNGER ONE
AZULA
Of course he does, Ozai heavily projects on both of his kids. He goes the extreme other way and puts the same abusive pattern on his own children, just reversed.
- Iroh himself btw never has the opportunity to develop that pattern, first of all because he only had one child, and second of all because he was the one who got the at least somewhat "healthier" dynamic with his father and probably his mother, if we go with the theory that Ilah died in childbirth.-
Because he sees the exceptional prodigy of Azula as himself, the second child, who in his narcissism is the better option. Who he can form to be the perfect successor of his legacy.
And in that way of thinking he treats Zuko, his older child with the same neglect and dismissal as he was treated as a child. He himself does not realise it, but he creates in that way in Zuko a kind of distorted mirror image of himself.
With one difference. Zuko has his mother and his uncle to teach him compassion. Not only that but Zuko himself is someone who as a person has a strict honor code he follows. (See 41st division).
Zuko is with that in mind, not just a reflection of Ozai but also a WEAK reflection from his perspective.
Which puts us back to the reason of, why he burned the face.
So in conclusion did ATLA not only invert a trope, it also used it to develop a unhealthy family dynamic and create a realistic picture of the cycle of generational trauma.
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buttdumplin · 1 day
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The sweet, lovely poly 141 boys and their Spanish-speaking latine partner.
This was meant to be a quick little thing, but boy did this get away from me lmao. This is the fluffiest shit I've ever indulged in and I love it. Big thank you to @mikichko for inspiring and helping with this!!!
CW: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, mexican slang, hint of d/s dynamics in Johnny's
Price, god love the man, is the one who seems to stumble the most. It's almost comical, considering the fact that Spanish and Arabic are so similar due to their histories. But there's a big difference between the Spanish he's learned to recognize and what you throw at him on the daily. He truly thinks it's because of his age, window of acquisition and all that. John does not expect to be able to speak fluently with you, but he does at least want to understand you. What he really wants, though, is to make you feel more fully at home with him, and he is forever grateful that you feel comfortable and safe enough with them to embrace all parts of your identity.
"Hola, amor mío. How was your day?" you greet him from the couch, eyeing him from tip to toe and almost whistling at seeing him in uniform. "Sigues rechulo, mi güerito, so I assume all went well?"
John swings down to kiss you, gripping the back of your neck to prolongue the kiss, trying to soak in as much of the affection as he can while also disguising the fact that he still doesn't fully recognize what came after.
"Yours was good too, I trust?"
"Yeah, but my brother called. El güey still con sus pinches mamadas and asking for my help. Aguas, in case he shows up this week."
"I... will keep an eye out, dove."
"Call me si les arma pedo and I'm not around."
He just nods sagely and squishes up against you on the couch, letting your warmth seep into his tired bones.
Later that evening, he rounds up the boys while you're in the shower and pulls out a small notebook where he's written things out phonetically. John may not have all the knowledge he needs, but he sure as hell is good at getting it.
"'Güey,' that's the brother's nickname?"
"No, that's like 'man/guy.' But it's also an insult. But not always," Johnny supplies.
"Fuck me, okay. 'Rechulo' is... I got nothing for that one."
"The 're' is for heavy emphasis, 'chulo' is 'cute/handsome/pretty.' 'Re' can go on practically any adjective," Simon steps in.
"'Aguas' and 'pedo' CANNOT be what they are, right?"
Kyle takes his hand and chuckles, "No, sweetheart. The first is like a warning, the second a fight or scene or scandal. In this context."
John's shoulders finally relax and he lets out a heavy sigh, putting the final touches on his notes of the day.
"Thank you, boys, for your patience and your kindness. And your secrecy," John huffs a little laughter and gives them his sweetest smile, the one where you can see the dimples poking out through the beard.
They all reach over to gently caress him, taking turns kissing the parts of him they can reach.
"Thank you, John, for trying so hard."
~
Beautiful, wonderful Kyle, the delight of a man that he is, is the one giving it as good as he gets. He's the one crooning in your ear, showering you with the most decadent terms of endearment, knowing full well they make your knees much weaker in Spanish. He'll use the advantage every single chance he has, don't doubt that for a second. But truly, it's the soft seclusion of those moments that he cherishes most, when you're looking up at him with big bright eyes, knowing you fully trust him to take care of you.
You're grumbling away as you wash dishes after dinner when Kyle comes up behind you, arms making the way slowly around your waist, chin dropping onto your shoulder.
"Oh, tesoro mío, look at you working away, working so hard for us."
You refuse to look at him and give a fussy pout. He knows it's your least favorite of the house duties. So much so that you're always willing to do almost anything as long as you don't have to touch wet food.
"It looks like you've done enough, cariño. Come join us in bed."
"No. None of you wanted to trade with me so se aguantan," you try to wiggle and bump his head away from yours.
"Come on, cosa hermosa, we need you with us to settle for the night," he pulls your hands from the water, drying them and turning you towards him.
You immediately bury your face into his chest. Can't look him in the eye, he'll win you over the moment you do.
"So they send in the smooth talker, huh?"
Kyle laughs, clear and bright, and he wraps you back up in his arms, gently cradling your head until you give in and look up at him.
"Or," he says, making you both rock gently, "I'm trying to sneak in a little solo time."
Your body melts against his as the words sink in, big eyes blinking softly up at him, "Besito?"
"As many as you want, mi vida. Until you grow bored of me," and you're letting out a sweet sigh as those soft lips meet yours.
His hands move to bring your body closer to his, to milk this quiet moment for as much contact as possible, to sear it all into his memory.
"You two are awfully quiet out there," Simon calls from the bedroom and it makes you break apart with a little jump.
You hear frantic rustling that has to be Johnny, "Hold on, what happened to doing the dishes!"
A chuckle escapes the two of you, sparkling eyes meeting in the low light from the stove hood. The sound of John huffing to get comfortable floats in from the bedroom.
"Just a minute more, hermosura," he mutters against your hair. "Wanna stay here a bit longer."
"Really liking all those pet names, aren't you?"
Kyle laughs again and gives you a squeeze, "Mean every single one of them."
And you happily linger, not pointing out that you've noticed an endearing pattern of Kyle wrapping up nights in the kitchen with you in his arms and a faint love song echoing down the hall for you two to sway to.
~
Beloved, darling Simon, he hides his own understanding of the language. He understands it nearly perfectly, with just the tiniest margin of error, nothing too big to bring attention to it. Overall, he's able to catch almost everything you mumble. It's not to be sneaky or anything like that, Simon would never do anything to compromise your privacy. It's more that he doesn't quite see the need to verbalize it. To him it's nothing special, no need to make a spectacle. Instead, he lets it seep into his actions, ever the acts of service lover that he is.
You're spread out on the couch, on the phone with your mother, complaining, "Como chingan los del trabajo. Me pidieron un reporte para el viernes y ahora me reclaman que todavía no se los he dado y apenas es miércoles."
There was a tension in your shoulders when you came home from work, he didn't miss that. Caught you jolting to a stop mid-stretch. And as the call goes on longer, Simon picks up on more.
"No he tenido chance de lavar ropa, ni una putisima pijama... Traigo un pinche antojo de mole, pero es un chingo de trabajo y ahorita no le puedo dedicar el tiempo..."
He quietly moves to gather the boys as you continue ranting and pace around the room. You're too caught up in your call to see them forming a massive huddle and their nodding at Simon right as the break and throw their joined hands in the air.
By the time you're off the phone, it's dark out and you notice the house is quieter than usual. You move to look for the boys (they can't have left without telling you, right?) when Simon pops out from the hall, crooked smile you love so much adorning his face, and he simply takes your hand to pull you into the bathroom. A hot bath greets you, some honeyed bath bomb already dissolving in the water and your laptop set up on a bucket besides the bath, your comfort show already pulled up and ready to play. Simon then points to your softest pajamas washed and set out on the counter for you.
"And you'll help me with my lotion too?"
He kisses your forehead, "When do I not?"
"The boys?"
"Setting up dinner. Kyle and I are making your favorite."
You whip around to face him, eyes wide and excited, "With fresh tortillas?"
With a low, affirmative hum Simon pulls you in closer and just holds you. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to. But he lends you his strength, which is all he can really hope for. The steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his arms around you help release the tightness in your body. Letting out your own little hum, you give him a squeeze and he squeezes back harder, crushing you in the way he knows you find comforting. There's a soft devotion in his tenderness with you, an unshakable support in every single thing you do.
"So you gonna undress me too, or...?"
A peal of laughter escapes you as he playfully swats at your butt, "Undress yourself. I've got cooking to do."
A day without hearing your laughter is a day poorly spent to Simon.
He's almost to the door when you pull him back into you, hands tugging on his shirt to bring him down to your height. His own laughter rumbles in his chest as you cover his face in loud kisses, and he stays locked in place. He will for as long as you need him to, never mind his back. If it's gonna go out eventually, he'd rather it go out from his time spent like this.
~
Johnny, bless the boy, is desperate to hear it, to have you address him directly. You speak plenty around the house, on phone calls with friends, talking back at the tv (some shows have been put on temporary bans, or at the very least you're not supposed to watch them alone), at the lovely crooked cat yall adopted. You shower them with pet names with every breath you take. And he loves it all! Loves that you so willingly share so much of yourself with them. But Johnny boy is dying for something specific- "Love, why don't you call me papi?"
When he voices it, it's a complete surprise. Simon and Kyle both laugh so hard so suddenly that they find themselves choking on their own spit. Price himself is caught so off-guard that he fully looks up from the dinner he's prepping in the kitchen, raw chicken slipping out of his hands and plopping back into the flour bowl. You at first laugh it off lightly, thinking it was one of his cutesy jokes he makes to get a giggle out of everyone. That would have made the most sense, honestly. But when he looks away, big blue eyes shining with the softest hint of embarrassment, it sinks in.
You shift in your seat a fraction, "Johnny, I don't even call any of you that in English. You know it's not exactly the same thing, right?"
"I know but the little old lady from the corner shop calls me "papi" and so does the older man who brings the water and other people too and it's always so affectionate and so I thought..."
He spares a glance at you, hoping he hasn't completely overstepped.
"Where did this come from?"
"Ale let it slip last time we grabbed coffee and the joy on Rudy's face was so blinding that I thought maybe we should try it."
"Honey--"
"Please, just once."
"But I--"
"It doesn't have to be a title! It can be soft and casual, no expectations."
"You don't--"
"I promise I'll be good for it."
Oh.
Your gaze meets the other boys' and you all take a good look at your Johnny. At some point during his pleading he brought himself down to kneel in front of you. His broad shoulders are slumped forward in submission, his hands clenched together so tightly his fingertips are completely white. Price nods at you, the other two eagerly nodding along as well.
Leaning forward, you grab him by the jaw, gently bringing his head to rest against your thigh.
Running your fingers through his hair, you utter out a low, "Sweet little thing like you just wants to be good, don't you papi?"
Johnny's eyes glaze over slightly, a shy, dazed smile growing on his face. There's not an ounce of hesitation in him as he nuzzles his face into your thigh, just sweet elation. Pleased grumbles escape the others, making Johnny's smile grow bigger.
You make sure to add it into your regular circulation.
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stars-in-a-jam-jar · 2 days
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Moar Buddy Dawn Shit in relation to this post
Buddy was dead for about 10 to 15-maybe-20 minutes. Kristen and Gorgug at the top of Freshman Year were only dead about 3 to 5 minutes and they still got some form of time in the afterlife, (side note: Gorgug not knowing what Orc Heaven looks like and being Deeply Fucking Terrified and shellshocked by the entire experience is So Juicy To Me, like. Something that should by all rights be familiar to him being foreign. Of deep spiritual significance, but not in the way it was 'supposed to be'; he didn't even know how it was 'supposed to be' at the time or after he learned it, he's still not really sure if it was ever a 'supposed to'.) so I'm quite sure Buddy experienced Something beyond the grave and chose to leave it for this nameless aspect of Ankarna. The version of her which exists as a result of her complete death and incomplete resurrection/preservation.
In that 10 to 15 minutes, Buddy passed into the place he was going. Perhaps some cornfield out on the edge of Helio's domain where Helio figured 'I'll get to him or he'll find me sometime, there's literally infinite time here'. Perhaps as a petitioner on the Astral Sea- wait, no, I'm thinking about Rolling With Difficulty cosmology, the Astral Realm is not a sea in Fantasy High. (also go listen to Rolling With Difficulty) Regardless of if he went to the afterlife the adults all told him he'd go to if he'd been a good boy or to some more limbo-like place, he had just enough minutes for the reality to sink in that he's Dead. He's dead and the feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder as if to hoist his assailant high enough to slit his throat presses like a cold weight on his skin. As if this body has skin, no, he's just a solid soul given form in this place.
So jarring. Resting dead in some corner of the cosmos like finding the one empty room at a big loud party where you've mostly been taking things in, sticking close to people you know, not doing anything you're not supposed to. Sitting down on the unfamiliar furniture or swaying idly in place as you listen to the murmur of this foreign world around you. Only it's not like that, not truly at all. You're not at the party anymore, the echoes of your life aren't some thing you're taking a break from to rejoin or building up the nerve to excuse yourself from to get a proper change of scene. There is no going back or moving forward.
He's dead. Buddy Dawn is dead.
How many minutes did it take him to lose composure? Did he even? When the ultimatum was posed to him, did he harden his heart to any regrets about abandoning his original faith, or did he relax into knowing he could live again, in service of something that reached for him and he reached back towards?
Why was he so chipper saying 'Dang, y'all, I worship a nameless god of rage.'? He didn't sound horrified by his decision in much the same way he didn't sound in touch with reality when he said 'Sometimes I raise my hand and magic that burns folks to a crisp comes out, but that's just the lord Helio working through me.' His death didn't change him so much as it fixed his gaze onto something new.
He is still a Cleric. Through and through. His soul needs a divinity to latch onto. And this is the first time he has latched onto a divinity wholly and completely for himself. He was not taught how to live for himself. He was taught how to live and die for a cause. For Helio. He earns a nice afterlife via sacrificing his autonomy to whatever the church tells him is good and right.
But he doesn't want a nice afterlife.
He wants another life.
And he no longer has faith that Helio will deliver him from any hardship, because even after he's just barely grasped how dead he is and has been for the past 11 minutes, his soul is wrent into an ultimatum by a different power. Go back to his body and continue living under a new banner, or be trapped in a dark, solitary purgatory which his soul may never be free from.
It's an easy decision, really. Barely requires any thought, only following a feeling. He no longer wants to stand by the god who allowed him to die so unceremoniously and so unfairly. He honestly feels more betrayed by Helio than he does by Kipperlily. Kipperlily hardly made any promises to him, just asked for him to be the party's cleric. He never expected her to do that, sure, but... His whole life he was promised that every bad emotion he ever felt in response to every wrongness in his life would (should, must, has to) simply evaporate away in the golden light of the corn god. And it's been an eternal 12 minutes, but he only feels worse and worse.
And if all Helio could promise him was a flat expanse of farmland overseen by someone who didn't even properly greet him when he walked in (if the celestial bureaucracy were even doing their jobs and funneled the soul of Helio's cleric to Helio instead of some cosmic waiting room or other), but this nameless deity can promise him a life for himself? Then by god he's taking that ultimatum, come back to life, sit up with a slightly surprised little smile and announce to the world (as he has been taught is right to do when you are devoted to a god) 'I worship a nameless god of rage!'
And he'll be happy with this choice-that-is-not-a-choice which he was betrayed and coerced into. Because it truly feels self indulgent to choose anything. To choose ragefully living for himself instead of obediently dying for an unfulfilling promise. He'll choose the intensity and the darkness because the gentle constant pressure cooker of walking in the light gave him nothing but sunburns and a slit throat.
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longstoryshort22 · 3 days
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Peter is brand Taylor talking to real Taylor, I Look in People’s Windows is real Taylor talking to brand Taylor (the two were supposed to become one, but the more famous she gets the harder it is)😭😭
The whole theme of the album is Taylor herself and her career and how the industry has affected her, joe/matty/travis/kim are just red herrings bye im gonna go cry listening to Peter
(more details⬇️)
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I’m not saying that some songs aren’t about those specific people, I’m just saying they’re only PART OF the theme, I believe her father (and other big heads in the industry) had a big influence on her career and forced her to stay in the closet from the very beginning, that messed her up, she had to hide her true self and keep bearding, and in 2019 she planned to come out but didn’t because of the masters heist, now it’s because she’s gotten more famous than ever that she has too much to lose. So maybe these men he dated, she did like them and she had multiple feelings when these relationships ended, but it’s all part of who the industry had made her into; she had one true love (maybe Karlie) but she couldn’t be with that person that’s why some songs are about a true deep love lost, but that’s still part of the “her career” theme, because of her career, she can’t be with that person. (more details⬇️)
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What’s really interesting in this theme is that she’s calling out her father in multiple songs because he really made her life harder…
In Cassandra, (the obvious theory is that Cassandra representing gaylors bc we’ve been saying the truth but never believed. And the first verse is about her getting the news of her masters heist just before her coming out plan, and then “stone’s thrown” is referencing Stonewall.) And in the bridge “They knew the whole time that I was onto something. The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line. They all said nothing. Blood's thick but nothing like a payroll. Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul” she’s saying her family knew something but said nothing because greed and money, we saw the leaked emails of her father and how he cares more about making money out of Taylor’s career than caring about her as his daughter, so I think this bridge is about her father, also about religious trauma may or may not due to him.
In The Bolter, “A curious child, ever reviled by everyone except her own father. With a quite bewitching face, splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless, excellent fun 'til you get to know her, then she runs like it's a race” she’s talking about herself being a precocious uniquely intelligent ambitious child, which everyone reviled except her father. why? because he wanted to invest money on her, he controlled how she conducted her career from the beginning.
What’s crazier is that Robin may be about her father too. That song sounds like a sweet song but she’s faking it like “all this showmanship to keep it for you in sweetness”. If she’s referring to her father (only wanting to make money out of her career) in this song then “you’re an animal, you are bloodthirsty” makes so much more sense. And the “buried down deep and out of your reach, the secret we all vowed to keep it from you in sweetness” her father probably knows about her queerness but wants her and everyone to keep it quiet.
In But Daddy I Love Him, “people only raise you to cage you” is pretty obvious about her father forcing her to stay in the closet, and “people try and save you cause they hate you” is literally about homophobes. “Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid” is about her father laying all the plans for her, which isn’t always what she wants. “I'd rather burn my whole life down, than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning. I'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace” reminds me of that scene in Miss Americana where her father was lecturing why she couldn’t public her opinions. “Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me. And counteract the chemistry, and undo the destiny” is so queer coded. “Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see / You ain't gotta pray for me” another reference to religious trauma.
So all of this, about her father, about her lover and other men, it’s all connected to her career and she’s looking back at it, thinking and reflecting on it, that’s it that’s the blog
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