djawww
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You hate taking the subway, but it’s a necessary evil. All that changes when you meet a demon.
AKA Eyeless Jack gets protective, then fucks your brains out in a subway tunnel. ^_^
Bookmarked by djawww
14 Aug 2025
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You have to find a roommate fast or you'll lose your apartment. Fortunately, one response to your ad seems promising...
AKA sort-of Roommate Trope only not really. It's EJ, do the details really matter?? Nope.
Bookmarked by djawww
14 Aug 2025
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The cool breeze on his face is comfortable. The sunset behind him suffuses the whole of the neighborhood with the soft orange glow. Things are good. Things are really good. He can hear Brian’s television inside, some old drama or something that he’s pretty sure is just meant to play in the background. Despite the amount of times he’s already been told it’s okay for him to just come in, Tim knocks on the door, and
Masky steps through the threshold into the ruined shack, hunched slightly forward, his claws digging into his forearms and his mouth hanging open somewhat to compensate for the fact he’s struggling to breathe clearly. There’s a tension in the whole of his body, his sight flickering and twitching between pictures that he struggles to reconcile with each other. Like two pictures overlapped and overexposed he sees the welcoming doorway and the darkness of the derelict shack, feels the fading sunshine on the back of his neck and the icy cold of the forest in the night, smells the familiar scents of blood and underbrush and the perfume of the neighbor’s flower garden that always wafted through the windows of Brian’s house when he left them open.
Bookmarked by djawww
13 Aug 2025
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Something, and it wasn’t alcohol this time, has made Tim feel very brave tonight. Or, perhaps, he’s fantasized about this many times. Rehearsed this scenario. Over and over. Multiple nights in a row. His best friend, squirming and panting below him, chanting his name. Begging for release. Asking permission. Tim, you absolute freaky fuck.
Bookmarked by djawww
13 Aug 2025
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Tim could already see his own name on the tape, written in thick black sharpie, messy and bleeding on the label. For a brief moment of confusion his smile stuck - Brian was thinking about him after all, that was a good thing wasn't it?
He stared down at the black plastic, excitement slowly falling to fear. What was on it? What the fuck did Brian see?
What did he record?
Bookmarked by djawww
13 Aug 2025