#abducted for love

[the-flower-named-fire]

[opera-ghost]

it's immensely funny to me how andrew lloyd webber read this passage from the book and was like yeah the journey down to the phantom's lair is this really breathtaking magical gondola ride where christine is just captivated by the strange and fantastical beauty of it all (see below)

when in the novel they're both like in a rowboat in the dark with christine scared out of her mind and confused as hell while erik is paddling like he's out for an extreme day of fishing and just staring christine down for the entire duration of the journey without blinking once . like mind you his eyes quite literally GLOW in the DARK and he's just fucking staring into her soul and silently rowing and probably not even breathing like

[obsessionavecdescouteaux]

Abducting her lover and taking him to an abandoned church where I slit his throat over the alter like a sacrificial lamb and force her to watch as I remove his heart

[scarymonsters-andsupercreeps]

And I’m floating in a most peculiar way

And the stars look very different today~💚

[389]

Implant David Huggins

[bu99erfly]

UFO (2024) f5ve, dir. Charlotte Rutherford

[s0fter-sin]

my favourite soapghost trope is soap accidentally seeing ghost without his mask and instantly covering his eyes so he doesn’t see anything

[inpursuitofnunchi]

[gringadano]

[nagaytoe]

Dry Leaves

Yandere X Reader

Tags/TWs: Stalking, kinda mental health issues?, violence, abduction, yandere is delusional (obv), y'all can insert anyone you want as the yandere

One of the Yandere Fall prompts by @snoopledrooplecheesedoodle inspired this fanfic, i wrote it specifically in a way that doesn't mention a certain character so anyone can feel free to insert whoever they want into the role of the yandere!

Word count: 990

——————————————————————

It's the middle of October; the trees grew more colorful and started losing their leaves, which are now scattered along the sidewalk and crunch underneath your boots as you make your way back home.

You look around the park you are currently walking through, since it's a shortcut to your apartment, and see a group of kids playing around in a heap of leaves. Their laughter fills your ears, despite the headphones you are wearing. They seem so careless, so innocent and they are, of course. How you wish you could go back to those times, back when your biggest issue was having to be in bed by 7 p.m. and not…that person.

However, those times are over, unfortunately. You quickly avert your gaze, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden; the hair on the back of your neck is standing up and goosebumps stretch over your skin. It might be cold, but not that cold, especially not since you're wearing a thick jacket and lined boots, the cause for the goosebumps is more likely something, or someone, else. A feeling all too familiar is washing over you: The feeling of being watched.

Picking up your pace, you quickly leave the park and try to get home as soon as possible. Who's to say that you can't finish a route that takes five minutes on average in two?

As you walk on the quiet sidewalk, with not a car in sight, and the song you are currently listening to ending you try to concentrate on the sounds surrounding you and sure enough:

You hear a second pair of footsteps behind you, leaves crunching under the person's feet.

As soon as you try to walk even faster, the person behind you picks up their pace as well.

For fucks sake…

Should you turn around? No, that's most likely not the smartest idea. The closest group of people you've seen so far were the kids just now and they won't be much help in case of an attack.

There's a cafe nearby, you could use a warm drink anyways and perhaps you'll be able to either get the person to stop trailing after you or to spot whoever is following you.

You stop in front of a small cafe you visit quite frequently and enter, not daring to look behind you just yet.

Walking up to the counter you already know what you want to order, the same as usual, as you look over to the door and scan the entryway, but there seems to be no one coming in after you. You sigh, feeling a little relieved, maybe you were just imagining things. The barista, however, doesn't fail to notice that you seem on edge.

“Is everything alright, Miss?”

Your gaze snaps back towards the woman in front of you. She seems to be around your age, with short, jet black hair and a few piercings gracing her pale face.

“Y-yeah…sorry, it's just… been a little stressful lately”

The bags under your eyes are dark, a telltale sign of the countless nights you stayed awake and failed to fall asleep, too scared that whoever keeps watching you lately will strike in the dead of night and have their way with you.

The barista smiles empathetically and hands you a small tray with your drink and something else in a small paper bag, causing you to look at her questioningly.

“A chocolate chip cookie,” she says. “On the house, of course. You seem like you need something sweet.” She adds quickly.

“Thank you.” You give her a warm smile and walk to a free spot in the back of the cafe. It's a table meant for two people: Two dark brown armchairs on each side of a mahogany wood table with a small lamp in the middle, illuminating the surrounding area in a warm light.

20 minutes have passed and you feel a lot calmer. You finished your drink, ate the cookie and feel ready to go, feeling almost silly as you think back to the events not even half an hour ago. It was probably nothing, you were just imagining things. The person behind you just happened to have to go into the same direction as you, right? Right.

You leave the cafe and continue your journey back home, inhaling deeply and feeling the cool air numbing your nose a little. The sun started setting, casting a warm light onto the street and the trees, making the colorful leaves shine even brighter. Your headphones blasted your favorite song and almost everything in the world feels alright again. There were no other incidents on your way home and you reached your apartment complex in no time, smiling to yourself a little.

You failed to notice the man behind you though, following you home and to your front door.

Standing in front of the door to your apartment and right before taking out the keys, someone grabbed you by the hair on the back of your head.

“You kept me waiting out in the cold, I'm sure you don't mind if I warm up a little in your apartment, right? After all, I still have to pack your things... Aren't you excited, darling?”

A deep voice whispers into your ear, as you are frozen in shock, before your head is slammed into the door.

Falling to the ground, you try to get a good look at your attacker and attempt to kick him, but to no avail. You were way too dizzy to cause him any harm and the mask and hood he was wearing made it impossible to get a glimpse at his features.

The last thing you hear before passing out is a chuckle along with some sinister sounding words.

“I hope you know I had no other choice, especially not after you always flirt with others, including that barista today. Surely you're well aware that infidelity is a sin, no?”

[obsessionavecdescouteaux]

As I watched you today, you deviated from your normal routine. I’m so proud of you for trying new things.

[tizeline]

What does Donnie think of Lou jitsu befpre finding out he is splinter?

Basically the same as in canon - super cool action star, great movies...... vague unexplained feeling of familiarity wonder what that's about, awesome taste in fashion, etc etc.

[389]

In My Bedroom David Huggins

[jvnart]

I'm not sure if you're still doing this, but is there any chance you'd draw Gaara for me? Thank you in advance

It's his birthday! 👍✨️

Gaara!

4 of 10 birthday requests!

Ask box open, submit your fav(s)!

[bisexualfbiagents]

You of all people should realize that sometimes motivations for behavior can be more complex and mysterious than tracing them back to one single childhood experience.

THE X FILES GIF MEME [2/9] SCENES from Oubliette (3.08)

[pennyserenade]

thinking about mulder and scully and how gentle he was with her when she was lying there in the hospital dying. he walked into the room with a wide grin and held her hand and kissed her cheek, and spoke to her in hushed, conspiratorial tones, and everything was life or death but it was so quiet, so unimportant, as he sat by her side and looked at her. mulder looked as happy as he’d ever been, sitting there with her, and it wasn’t because he was; he wasn’t. he knew that she was dying, that they were coming upon the moment when she was no longer going to be with him sooner rather than later, and he was crushed by the weight of it, by the impossibility of it. when he came to see her again and she was sleeping, looking pallid and defeated, he slumped against her bed and cried on his knees in the dark—quiet, body wracking sobs she never knew about, because he never wanted her to know how weak her being weak made him. with the weight of impending death, mulder gave scully the most of life, all that he wished she could’ve received but hadn’t: that coddling, that affection, the beautiful mundaneness of domestic bliss. he listened to her—really listened to her. and he really loved her, loved her like a husband, or a boyfriend, loved her the way a better man would’ve.

and then when scully got better, when the cloud of death evaporated and she appeared before him with color in her cheeks and flirtation on her tongue, he took it back. gone were the days of all that soft love and affection and back was the mulder and scully of old. he sidetracked their team bonding workshop, pointedly ignored the glaring fact that scully agreed he needed to work on his communication, and got them stranded in the depths of the floridian forest. even better, he let her coddle him, let her hold him close to her chest and made her sing him a song as they shivered through the night and watched out for monsters that could kill them, because he couldn’t handle it. the idea of being anything to scully other than what he had been before — a nuisance, a challenge, a partner — terrified him so badly he went into overdrive trying to reinforce those uncomplicated roles again. it wasn’t that he didn’t love her. he did — he loved her to the point of insanity, to the point of self destruction (something she so worried about). he just didn’t know how to love scully when it wasn’t dire. he loved her so much that he could not stand the idea of failing her with anything inadequate and half baked. he was glad to give it to her when it was dire, but when it came to life long devotion, he needed a few more years.