#and the way they keep calling the other obsessed

[starboye]

starring: peter parker (andrew garfield) x male reader

request: what if the reader is an onlyfans model and Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) is a fan and one day you get saved by him from a mugging and you seduce Peter into “thanking him” and he’s very aggressive and he’s a brat tamer and will spank your ass till it’s red like his mask. You also give him sloppy head which he’s a fan of. The mask stays on the entire time cuz that’s kinky. Hopefully ends with some fluff and Peter asks him out?

warnings: smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, ass slapping, oral sex, a lil fluff at the end

directors note: ok so this was kinda messy at first which is why it ended up being a little long

you were a fairly popular onlyfans creator, i mean popular enough to get invited out to events and stuff and you had a somewhat large amount of followers, one of those actually being spiderman aka peter parker, he was obsessed with you ass (literally).

but one night after an event you get cornered by some thugs threatening you with some knives and just before they could beat you up for your belongings the friendly neighborhood spiderman shows up, beating up the thugs and watching them run away.

"thanks for the help" you say picking up the stuff you dropped in the scuffle "no problem just being your friendly neighborhood spiderman" he says about to swing away but you stop him "wait how can i repay you" you asks stepping closer and looking him up and down "well no need to repay me citizen, wait are you y/n from onlyfans" he asks remembering just a bit of your voice.

"yeah how did you know" you ask already knowing the answer "uhm just from around the way y'know" he nervously chuckles watching your eyes fill with lust suddenly "well since you saved me why can't i return the favor back at my place" you smirk and in no time he's swinging his way to your apartment building and walking through the front door with you.

he was a little shy at first, walking through the apartment he only saw through a screen and with his dick in his hand, until you showed him your room, you turning around and pushing him onto the bed before straddling his lap "how do you get this stuff off" you snicker trying to figure out how to get his suit off.

"the suit can come off but the mask stays on" peter says immediately grabbing his mask to keep you from lifting it to far "okay whatever mr spidey wants" you seductively whisper to him, getting up so he can undress, peter now fully naked and making out with you was hard as a rock.

rutting his dick against your ass until it was dripping cum "you wanna fuck me" you ask rubbing your ass on him to taunt him some more "fuck yes" he groans throwing his head back, you agonizingly slowly slipped the head of his dick in you, sinking in every inch of his big cock until you were bouncing up and down on his lap.

"fuck keep going just like that" he says wrapping his arm around your waist to control your movements, slapping your ass until a big red mark was left, he lifted up his mask just to his nose and his lips attached to your neck and didn't let go until your neck was littered in his hickeys "can i call you daddy" you ask looking down at him as he thrusted upward into your ass "oh please do" peter smirked at the sight of you.

"then fuck me up daddy" you say and with those words he flipped you onto your back with him right above you, tangling his fingers with yours and pinning them by your head, slamming his pelvis into your ass over and over until you were a moaning mess "who's your daddy huh" he asks "y-you are" you whimper wrapping your legs around his waist "that's right" he smirks knowing he's the only one getting to fuck you unlike all the other guys who dm you day after day asking to meet up.

"fuck im gonna cum" peter mutters into your neck "please cum in me" you plea tightening your grip on his biceps before he slams his load into you, making sure to push it all into you, leaning back on your bed with a big huff, his messy cock laying on his stomach "clean it up" he orders and you're quick to obey, crawling in between his leg with his load dripping down your inner thigh, sucking him until his dick was spotless.

"mhm every drop" he hums watching you work your magic with his cock again before pulling off and laying next to him "well that was fun" peter awkwardly says as if he wasn't ordering you around five minutes ago "i just wanted to our good ol' spiderman for doing his service" you say "well how about i do you a favor know" he asks turning to look at you "and what would that be" you retort "me and you dinner tomorrow night" he suggests and after a few moments of silence you agree "i guess it's a date then spidey" you chuckle.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[currentfandomkick]

^^^ thiiiis.

Hell, you can even play around IR denizens and citizen varieties of spookies vs the type of ghost greta is.

Hell, you can have Dani and Greta be in the same facility, have Team Phantom get her out WHILE GRETA IS BEING RESCUED BY HER TEAM.

Dani, Danny and Greta can bond and do comparisons about how their specific ghost abilities work! Danny can even play Mentor BS by just. Bringing Greta to the IR and going through Late Heroes down to mentor Next Gen.

Danny just doesn’t vibe well with many who see heroics as End All Be All.

Dani has stolen Aunt Pandora as her ghostly gaurdian and abuses the weaponization of hope routinely. This can confuse everyone not familiar with Ancient Greek Myth about pandora’s jar and the major issue during the time it was more folklore and religion than myth of the greeks fearing wasting away on false hopes and putting trust in the wrong people. Let Dani, loves to explore and is not good for combat given her stability is a question mark, and crashes wherever Boston is just to annoy the man, let her weaponize false hope and use real hope to empower in equal measures and this be how she starts helping YJ when she’s up for a mission. Let her and Greta have Feelings and complex emotions about it.

Danny’s closest ‘mentor’ in this is Frostbite as he helps with his power control development for Ice and his Wail, but is relatively useless with human social interactions, legalese for non-IR matter and More. Many is a competant leader to a bunch of doctors that are this close 🤏 to going to warrior race at a fair provocation. Danny just gets medical advice mostly and summaries of what to not do and how his biology may work… they think. Halfas are hard to figure out.

Greta and Danny? Truama bond over the what they know they lack compared to their peers. Danny may even let her have a whistle for Cujo or a way to call Wulf. Danny opens the IR ghost community to her, and openly tests the waters with JL over ghostly teen heroes.

As secret WAS a secret from the JL. So angst fodder and if the JL pass their test? Secret stops being a secret, and can get more help from JL and Ghost Community.

Legit, go ham picking a mentor for her if you want one, or just a safe ghost who helps with advice. OC, from a cannon of some variety or whatever.

If we want her to stay sans-mentor? She just has ghost friends who give horrible obsession-centric advice that is sometimes useful to her by misinterpreting literal advice as figurative.

Also Dani and secret both feeling seem by each other as girls who don’t have a legal ID, are seen as experiment fodder by gov groups, and both were in DEO or GIW custody and needed to trust their allies to save them.

Hell, ghost cultures can be thrown in, including the lack of a grave issue for the three. How this is resolved is Choose Your Own Adventure tbh.

Hell, if you want you can even ship them, given Danny and Tim keep getting bitches despite the odds, and Greta had a crush on Robin/Tim. And if you follow with Greta getting her body back? New Halfa dropped, and this one is not related to Danny!

Like, Options My Guys. Go forth and run amok

DCXDP Young Justice and Phantom

I love Danny Phantom and DC crossovers but I think there is a very overlooked possibility there would be so good and I don't think I ever saw it being done. Danny being in the og Young Justice from the 90s. He would just fit there so well and match their own brand of chaos perfectly. And they share the same lack of respect for authorities and lack of adult supervision.

We have a teenager ghost hero who was kidnapped by the USA government for experimental purposes. I Really need to see Secret and Phantom bond, maybe they were held in the captivity by the GIW and the DEO at the same time and meet there, maybe they can runaway together.

LOOK AT THIS! it look like it was made so they can have a crossover! I KNOW I'M NOT CRAZY

The DEO saying Secret has no rights because she is dead, the potential for angst.

Secret having a hard time because she was the only one there without a mentor or being a legacy, but here she could bond with Danny because they have so much in common, and they can understand each other.

I just want to see Danny being besties with Secret (maybe even more? I can see they have a more romantic relationship too)

Is just... There is so much potential and I couldn't stop thinking about it

[fearcvlt]

❝end of the water(feel)❞

pairing. caleb x fem!reader note. i only downloaded this game for the caleb debut and... yeah, he got me locked in. very new to lads, might be some slight timeline inaccuracies for which i apologise. needed to write virgin caleb so bad though so... forgive me. reblogs/feedback forever appreciated. mwah <3 tags. nsfw, mdni. loss of virginity. p in v. creampies. pre-mature ejaculation. kind of obsessive caleb. psuedocest. panty sniffing. fingering. yearning. jealousy but it's not a focus. pipsqueak is here... not sorry. no use of y/n. 2.9k words.

Caleb finds it easy to remember the moment he realised he was madly in love with you.

He’s sure it had always been the case — he’d spent the majority of his childhood following you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he could just so you could smile at him. Feeling things and knowing what you’re feeling are two different situations entirely, however.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but you weren’t the only girl he would look at and think that (it just so happened he ended up looking at you more than any other girl he knew). It wasn’t until you got your first ever confession that he realised how much he disliked the fact that other boys could find you pretty, too.

The note was from a classmate of yours. It shouldn’t have even been a blip on Caleb’s radar — nothing more than an innocent, heartfelt little confession from someone who liked you. It made an unfamiliar feeling twist in his gut as he watched you giggle as you read over the letter. His blood felt like it was burning in his veins. He was unable to keep the scowl off of his face, unable to prevent the burn of his eyes when he realised he’d never gotten you to smile at him that way.

Caleb had to flee so you didn’t see his reaction, brewing in a mix of jealousy and self pity as he curled up on his bed, tears stinging his eyes.

The following day, Caleb played the protective big brother card for the very first time, practically snarling at the boy until his face was splotchy and red and he looked like he might cry. He should have felt bad. He didn’t. He’s sure he’d never been prouder.

You were upset, of course. The very first person to ever confess to you had suddenly started avoiding you at all costs — you thought you had done something wrong.

Caleb was more than happy to offer you a shoulder to cry on. He held you close to his side, his heart thumping at the close proximity, eyes wide with wonder as you only snuggled up closer. He remembers thinking that you were still the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on, even as you were crying. He even remembers the promise he had made.

“I’ll protect you, pipsqueak. Forever.”

Maybe he thought he’d grow out of the crush one day. Maybe he just didn’t care. All he knew was that every boy that came after the first was never good enough for you. No one was good enough for you. Caleb kept them all away, but it was for your own good. You’d understand that eventually.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Caleb’s feelings only worsened with time.

What started off as an innocent crush devolved into something more akin to obsession as he grew. He was climbing closer and closer to his mid-twenties, and yet he still felt like a small child carefully guarding his favourite toy when he was in your presence.

His thoughts began steering into dangerously non-brotherly territory when he came home from the Aerospace Academy for one summer to find you had already returned. You had… changed. There was a newfound confidence surrounding you since you began your hunter training, like you’d grown into yourself in the time he was gone. It felt almost bittersweet — he had called you pipsqueak out of habit, but the nickname didn’t feel quite right anymore. You laughed and pushed his hand away as he ruffled your hair. He didn’t like it, yet somehow your touch made his face heat up now.

Caleb liked feeling needed. He wanted to feel proud of you for coming out of your shell and gaining independence from him, but he couldn’t. He hated the idea that he needed you so badly, but you might not need your big brother as much anymore.

The first time it had happened was an accident. He had insisted he would do your laundry for you when you came home tired one day. He’d tucked you into bed all tight, pressing a kiss to your temple to silence your complaints.

You were all comfy and half-way to dozing off, and Grandma had already turned in for the night, so he was alone as he carried your things to the laundry room.

He wanted to make sure he did a good enough job that you would realise you could still rely on him. He carefully separated each article of clothing before placing them into the machine, making sure none of the colours would bleed, that anything delicate wouldn’t shrink or tear.

His fingers brushed lace, and he swallowed thickly. The offending material belonged to a pretty pink pair of panties. His chest started heaving as he stared down at them, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

When the fuck did you start wearing things like this?

He didn’t like it. He absolutely fucking hated the idea of you getting these to impress some other guy. He hated himself for the way all the blood in his brain seemed to immediately rush south and impede any reasonable thoughts from entering his brain.

He brushes his thumb over the fabric once. Twice. A third time when he notices the gusset of the panties feels different against his skin.

His gaze flicks quickly to the laundry room door. He waits, perking up like a dog waiting to be scolded as he listened for any sounds in the home. When he found none, he shuffled closer to the door, shutting it before bracing himself against it with an arm. Slowly, cautiously, he raises the fabric to his nose.

He inhales once, and immediately realises he’s doomed. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky inhale, burying his face deeper into the fabric. He presses his forehead to the door, his free hand sliding down his body so he can palm at his steadily hardening cock through his shorts.

He gasps instantly at the contact, panting into the fabric. His tongue darts out to taste them, and all it takes is two more shaky touches before he’s coming in his pants.

Caleb’s eyes widen and he jerks back like he’s been burned, the panties quickly being flung back into the washing basket. He switches on the half full machine, quickly skittering out of the room to have a cold shower.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I thought you would grow out of being so fussy,” Caleb scolds lightly, brows furrowing as he watches you wrinkle your nose at the sight of some of the vegetables on your plate. “That’s why you’re so short, pipsqueak. You haven’t been eating your greens.”

“I’m not even short,” is your immediate response, tongue coming out childishly. Caleb can feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. “And I do eat vegetables. Just not… these ones.”

“Riiiiight. Are you sure that’s the case? You’re terrible at lying to me, you know.” He pauses, tilting his head with a small smile. He places a hand on the back of your chair, leaning in closer as he picks up your fork, stabbing it through some of the remaining food on your plate.

“Open wide, pipsqueak. Colonel Caleb has a very important flight to land.” He teases, doing the whole here-comes-the-aeroplane act with far too much enjoyment.

“I’m not seven anymore, Caleb. That stopped being cute over a decade ago—“

“Ah-ah. I don’t remember asking for you to argue with me. What stopped being cute a decade ago was that bratty attitude of yours.”

He pokes the tip of your nose with the hand that was previously resting on the back of your chair, grinning as his hand slips lower. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip without thinking, trying to pry your mouth open.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad-fucking-idea.

Your breathing hitches, and your lips part instinctively. There is no way the heat he feels rushing to his cheeks haven’t made it abundantly clear how helpless he is when it comes to you. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus on your wide eyes rather than how hot your breath feels against his thumb (and how easy it would be to feel just how warm and wet the inside of your mouth is).

Absolutely fucking terrible idea.

His pants are feeling particularly strained right now, and he’s praying to ever deity he’s ever heard the name of that you haven’t noticed. Caleb isn’t good at handling how his body chooses to react about you, but he’s always been great at deflecting and teasing you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, praying you don’t notice how breathless he is. He can see every imperfection on your face right now, every single lash as you look up at him. God, was he always this close? It’s taking all of his restraint not to lean in closer.

“You don’t need to be shy around me, you know. It’s only me. You trust me, don’t you?” You nod, and he gives you a lazy smile. “You’re so pretty. Sometimes I worry about leaving you all alone.”

Of course, by sometimes, he means he sometimes gets so nauseous when he lets his mind wander to what you might get up to without him around that it makes him dizzy. Not that he would ever vocalise that fact.

“Pretty?” You repeat in a voice that’s so soft and sweet and hopeful that it’s dizzying.

“Pretty.” He confirms, dropping his forehead against yours.

Caleb doesn’t remember leaning in to kiss you, but suddenly his lips are on yours, and you melt. He smiles against your lips, his fingers trailing along your jawline before they’re moving up to cup your cheek. It’s clumsy and sweet — he can tell you’ve never done this before, and that makes something warm blossom in his chest.

He wants to ruin you, but he’s not entirely sure you haven’t ruined him, first.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip until it parts to let him inside. He brushes his tongue against yours until you’re practically a puddle in his arms, only pulling back when he needs to breathe.

“Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, eyes solely focused on your spit-slick lips. “Can I take you to your room?”

You nod.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Is this okay?” Caleb whispers, brows furrowed in concern at the way you hiss as he slips two fingers inside of you. He withdraws them slightly, leaning down to spit on your cunt before slowly pushing them back in. They move easier now, and he finds himself letting out a relieved sigh as the crease between your brows melts away.

“Good. It’s… it’s good.”

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he starts to thrust his fingers into you, gently scissoring you open. “Or if I do anything you don’t like.”

You nod again, and he rewards you by brushing his thumb over your clit experimentally. Your walls clench around his digits as you moan, so he does it again. “Good girl.”

His touch is more exploratory than anything. He watches your face closely the entire time, repeating the actions that make your nose scrunch up all cutely. He doesn’t stop until your cunt is practically drooling all over him, leaving him very at risk of coming in his pants.

“I’m going to be gentle, okay? Are you ready?” He asks softly, hands trembling as he slides his fingers out of you. His hands move to shed off his own clothes, his body draping over yours. He doesn’t make any move to do more until you agree.

“Yeah. Please, Caleb.”

Caleb has dreamed of this moment. He’s almost tempted to pinch himself, just to be sure this is really happening. His lips part with a strangled groan as he pushes the tip of his cock past your entrance, his head tipping forwards.

“Oh… you’re so tight.” He gasps, practically shaking as he continues to slowly press forwards. His hips meet the back of your thighs, and he can’t help but stare down at where the two of you are connected in awe.

He rolls his hips experimentally, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he feels the way you try to greedily suck him back in. It’s too much and not enough, all at the same time. You whine, squirming underneath him, trying to get him to move again.

“So good… feels so good,” he practically whimpers, repeating the movement a few times so that his eyes can take in the way he disappears within you. “Fuck. I love you, y’know that?”

Of course you do. Caleb has never been shy when it comes to showing how deeply he cared about you, but the words feel different now. More charged.

You say you love him, too, and Caleb grunts. His hips stutter, then he pauses. Blinks. His eyes flick downwards, a flush overtaking his face as he watches his cum start to seep out of you, pushing past the barrier his cock provides as the droplets slide down your ass to stain the sheets. You’re still panting, whining, begging him for more.

He swallows. Hard. His throat bobs as he pushes past the sensitivity to start rocking into you with more confidence this time, his now half-hard cock slowly stirring back to life. He knows you must have felt it, the sudden warmth flooding you. Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. He’s been waiting for this moment for years, saved himself just for you, and that was all it took?

He leans over you a little more, pressing deeper in an attempt to make up for it. Your back arches and you let out the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, lips parting in a way that makes him feel light-headed. Suddenly, he’s not so worried anymore. He smiles, letting out a soft little laugh as he presses a kiss to your temple, fucking into you slow and deep.

“You look so beautiful like this.” He breathes. Running his nose along your cheek, your jawline, down the line of your neck. He inhales deeply, lashes fluttering as he takes in your scent. His chest is starting to hurt from how fast his heart is beating, but he doesn't care. His entire focus is on you — the sounds you’re making, the way you feel as your cunt sucks him in, the warmth of your body pressed against his.

“I love you.” He says again, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrap tight around your waist to hug your body tight against his own, leaning all of his weight onto you as he continues to thrust into you. His movements are almost lazy. He’s addicted to the feeling of being inside of you, the slow, languid drag of his cock. The way you gasp as he presses his hips flush to yours. He can’t stop smiling.

“I love you too, Caleb. Always… always loved you.” You gasp. Caleb hisses at the breathless sound of your voice, his thrusts growing harsher and more erratic.

He sits back on his heels, dragging you along with him. He keeps his grip on you tight, crushing you to his body as he fucks up into you, gasping and panting each time his cock sheathes itself fully within you.

“Close… I’m so close, baby. Cum, please… need to… need to feel you cum.” He grits out through his teeth, head lolling back as his fingers dig into the flesh of your back, desperately attempting to bring you closer. If he could, he’d merge your bodies together so he’d never have to be without you.

“Can’t… I can’t, need more—“ You gasp out in response.

Caleb groans, one of his hands slipping down your back and around your side, pressing itself between your two bodies so he can rub at your clit. Your core flutters around his length, a fresh wave of arousal setting your nerve endings on fire. You rock into his touch, grinding back down to meet his thrusts before you’re pressing up to chase the touch of his fingers.

Your body tenses, walls clenching around him as you come with a cry, arousal soaking him until its dripping down your thighs. You’re trying to kill him, he’s sure of it.

He finds it impossible to deny his release much longer. How could he, when you look so perfect against him like this, your expression hazy and blissed out. You looked utterly wrecked, and it was entirely his doing.

His hips jerk forwards shakily, a series of grunts and curses spilling past his lips as his cum fills you to the brim. He drops his forehead against your shoulder, both arms moving to wrap loosely around your waist to keep you close to his body.

He keeps you there for a moment before slowly lowering you back onto the mattress, gently draping his body over yours. He nuzzles your neck just to have another excuse to breath in your scent, the smell of sweat and sex mixing with something so distinctly you.

The silence is only broken as you whine, pushing at his chest. “Caleb, heavy.”

“Oh? Am I?” He teases, laughing against your neck as you try to wriggle free. He just tightens his grip. “Nuh-uh, pipsqueak. You’re stuck with me.”

He means it.

[blairxbear]

When they realise they are in love with you...

Class 1A / Other UA Students / Pro Heroes / Villains

How will these villains react to realising that they are in love with you?

Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi/Toya Todoroki, Shuichi Iguchi/Spinner, Kai Chisake/Overhaul, Jin Bubaigawara/Twice, Atsuhiro Sako/Mr. Compress, Young All For One

Tomura Shigaraki

• Love is foreign to him—it’s something he associates with weakness, pain, and loss.

• He doesn’t understand his own emotions at first—he just knows he wants you close but is terrified of hurting you.

• The moment he truly realizes it? One night, you fall asleep near him, completely unafraid. He stares at you for hours, his hands shaking.

• “They trust me. No one’s ever trusted me like this before.”

• He tries pushing you away at first, convinced you deserve better.

• But when he sees you smiling at him like he’s more than a villain, he breaks. He’s yours now. No escape.

• His confession is raw and broken, whispered against your skin like a secret he’s too scared to say out loud.

• “I don’t want to ruin you… but I think I love you.”

Toya Todoroki (Dabi)

• Dabi doesn’t believe in love—to him, it’s just another lie, another way to get hurt.

• But when he realizes he feels safe with you, it scares the hell out of him.

• The moment he knows? He sees you patching up his burns, touching his scarred skin without flinching, and something in him shatters.

• “Why aren’t they afraid of me?”

• He tries dismissing it as lust, obsession—anything but love.

• But when he sees you laughing at one of his dumb jokes, he realizes he’d burn the whole world down to keep you safe.

• His confession is casual but intense—maybe after a mission, cigarette between his lips, acting like it’s nothing.

• “Tch. Guess I love you. Sucks for you, huh?”

Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

• Spinner is completely awkward about romance—he never thought anyone would look at him that way.

• He realizes it slowly, over time—when you’re the only one who really listens to him.

• The moment it hits him like a truck? You defend his ideals in front of the League, proving you actually believe in him.

• “Holy shit. They actually care.”

• Suddenly, he can’t stop thinking about you, watching your reactions, hanging on your words.

• His confession is embarrassingly nervous, probably stammering through it.

• “Uh… okay, don’t laugh, but I think I might be, um… kinda in love with you? Shit, that sounds dumb—”

Kai Chisaki (Overhaul)

• Love is a weakness, something that doesn’t belong in his world.

• He tries to rationalize it, seeing you as an asset, a necessity—but that excuse crumbles fast.

• The moment he realizes? You touch him without hesitation, and for the first time in years, he doesn’t flinch or feel disgusted.

• “They’re not… dirty. They’re not tainted. How?”

• He spirals—overanalyzing, avoiding, obsessing.

• When someone threatens you, and he feels pure, unfiltered rage, it clicks. He’s in love.

• His confession is cold and clinical but deeply possessive.

• “You belong to me now. Don’t argue.”

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

• Love is messy, complicated, and dangerous—and he’s already got too many voices in his head.

• He realizes it when he starts thinking about you more than himself, more than his own survival.

• The moment it hits him hard? You remember something small about him—his favorite snack, his childhood memories—and he just… freezes.

• “No one’s ever cared that much about me.”

• His emotions become even more chaotic, flipping between being clingy and pulling away out of fear.

• His confession is a total nervous wreck—probably talking to himself about it first before blurting it out to you.

• “Shit, shit, I love you! Wait, do I? YES, I DO—oh god, is this a bad idea?!”

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

• He’s suave and theatrical, but love? Love is tricky. Dangerous. A gamble.

• He realizes it when he starts protecting you first, putting you above the mission.

• The moment it fully sinks in? You call him out on his loneliness, and he realizes you see through his mask.

• “They know me. The real me.”

• Suddenly, his usual charm feels meaningless unless it’s you he’s entertaining.

• His confession is smooth but deeply genuine—probably whispered against your ear, teasing yet serious.

• “My dear, you’ve stolen something precious from me… my heart.”

Young All For One

• Love, to him, is power—a tool to manipulate, to control.

• Or at least… that’s what he thought before you.

• He realizes he’s in love when he stops seeing you as replaceable—when he wants to keep you, not as an asset, but as something more.

• The moment it truly hits? You defy him, looking him in the eyes without fear, and instead of being furious… he’s intrigued.

• “They’re… mine.”

• Suddenly, he finds himself protecting you, indulging you, giving you power instead of taking it away.

• His confession is low and dangerous, more of a claim than a request.

• “You belong to me, little one. And I belong to you.”

[hwang-inhos-fish]

EquallyObsessed!Gi-hun AU Drabble

“I have trouble believing anyone here would do that.”

Gi-hun turns sharply for him.

“In the games that I played," he says, advancing, iron-cold, "I saw dozens of people murder each other in the middle of the night. Right where we’re standing.”

In-ho gazes back, blinking softly to keep up the mask of Young-il though he wants to stare hard, to drink in every shift of Gi-hun’s grief-etched features.

“You have no idea. You don’t understand this place. The kind of monsters that it can create.”

“Yeah," Young-il says easily, "of course. I wasn’t thinking. You know better than anyone. I’m sorry.”

But In-ho thinks, You know better than anyone, then, what kind of monster this place made of me.

"You don't get it," Gi-hun insists, but the wind has gone from his sails. No longer advancing, now turning aside to lean tiredly on a bunk support. He glances upwards, to the cameras. In-ho indulges, only momentarily, in the fantasy that Gi-hun is glancing at him, the Front Man, seeking out In-ho’s gaze from beyond a screen. It's an enticing train of thought.

If only he knew.

"You know what happens to people that get out of here?"

It's a strained, murmured question, something just audible over the crackle of Gi-hun’s overused throat. In-ho, about to turn away again, focuses back. There's a sudden intensity to Gi-hun - a keen, predatory restlessness that draws In-ho like a magnet.

"Well," he guesses amicably as Young-il, only slightly breathless for reasons he can't put his finger on, "you came back."

Gi-hun glances upwards. "Hwang In-ho," he rumbles, speaking to the ceiling, and a prickling shiver sweeps over In-ho, so sudden and so intense that he shudders hard in his jacket.

What?

"They call him Front Man," Gi-hun goes on, blissfully unaware of the burning stare being delivered to the side of his head from across the gathered circle of players. "The man with the black mask. He runs this place." His eyes fall to In-ho’s, earnest and alert, and In-ho finds himself pinned as though under the gaze or talons of a hawk. "He was a player, once."

In-ho can't breathe. Can't swallow. The shivers of gooseflesh now ripple over him continuously, making his hair stand on end, as if Gi-hun's gaze is an approaching storm. Like In-ho should smell ozone.

Does he know?

Gi-hun breaks eye contact first, handing out his precious attention to each other player in his little flock, gracing them one by one with a serious glance.

"He won in 2015. Now he’s the boss."

Like the magnet works on Gi-hun, too, his eyes slide back home. To In-ho’s.

They don't stay long. Gi-hun looks back up, almost like he’s praying. His hands flex in his lap. His jaw works. A picture of rapt, righteous fury. In-ho wants to commission a hundred pieces of art if only to preserve a fraction of that passion.

Gi-hun says to the camera, to the control room where In-ho isn't, "I have to meet him."

-

-_-_-

-

In which the intensity of obsession goes both ways. In which Gi-hun did a bit more successful research beforehand. In which Gi-hun's obsession manifests a little differently.

I like this vibe for them a lot and I wish I saw more of it. I'd write something but I already have to long fics lol I cannot

[gilbertscurls]

nowhere to run — matt sturniolo

The road stretched out before him, dark and endless, illuminated only by the occasional flicker of streetlights and the headlights of passing cars. The rain had stopped hours ago, but the streets still shimmered with the remnants of it, puddles reflecting the world back at him in a way that felt almost cruel.

Matt’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white.

He needed to stop thinking about you.

But how could he?

Every damn song on the radio, every street he passed, every moment of quiet—you were there.

Your soft, pretty face. Your bright eyes, the way they crinkled when you laughed at something stupid he said. The way you bit your lip when you were concentrating, like you were entirely unaware of how it made his chest ache.

You were beautiful. And smart. And kind. And strong.

And Matt wanted you so badly it hurt.

He wanted to be the one you turned to first when you had good news. He wanted to be the one to make you smile when you were having a bad day. He wanted to be the reason you stayed up too late, the person you thought about before falling asleep.

But you would never feel the same way.

He knew that.

And yet, no matter how many times he reminded himself, no matter how much he tried to force those feelings down, they wouldn’t go away.

It was pathetic.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to get over you. He’d forced himself to look at other people, to flirt, to go on dates. He’d tried to convince himself that he was just being dramatic, that it wasn’t real love, just some stupid infatuation he’d built up in his head.

But every single time, he came back to you.

And the longer he obsessed over you like this, the more it was going to destroy him when you inevitably rejected him.

Matt exhaled sharply, blinking against the burn in his eyes as he pulled up to a red light. His hands were still clenched around the wheel, his entire body tense like he was bracing for impact.

Maybe he should tell you.

Maybe if he just got it out, it would stop eating him alive.

But then what? What if it ruined everything?

Because that’s what terrified him the most—not the rejection itself, not the awkwardness that would follow.

It was the thought of losing you.

If you knew how he felt, would you start pulling away? Would you stop laughing at his stupid jokes? Would you stop calling him late at night just because you felt like talking?

Would you stop needing him?

The light turned green, but Matt didn’t move.

A car behind him honked, jolting him back into reality, and he let out a breath before pressing down on the gas.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter how much he loved you, how much he wanted to be the one you chose.

You didn’t love him.

And even if you did—even if there was the smallest chance you felt something—he wasn’t sure he was willing to risk everything to find out.

So he would keep driving.

Keep pretending.

Keep loving you in silence.

Because at least this way, he wouldn’t have to watch you walk away.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim237, @courta13, @frankdelreyy, @evansturn

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 32

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

I really need your reblog! On Tumblr, the content reaches more views and is delivered more through reblog and I really wanted more people to be able to read what I write. I'm counting on you from now on, ok?

Bitter, like the old coffee grounds left to sit for days at the bottom of a pot.

That was the expression staring back at you in the mirror.

As you absentmindedly combed the ends of your hair, moving with exaggerated slowness, you wondered—how did normal people deal with their mother’s death?

They cried until their bodies dried out, drowned themselves in depression, obsessively sifted through the past until it hollowed them out from the inside. They relived memories, tortured themselves with regrets, let longing consume them little by little.

But you?

You had none of that.

No good memories to cling to. No moments worth reliving. No guilt, no shadow of remorse, nothing positive to remember. Not a single tear shed for missing her. The only ones that had fallen since you left prison had been wrenched from you by physical pain—and maybe, just maybe, by relief.

Because a part of you believed that, along with her, some of your problems were being buried too.

She had held your instability in her hands for years. She had broken you. Tore your soul to pieces. Made you a puppet whose strings had finally been cut.

And if… you were free?

There was no way to know. You had never tasted it before.

You had never known what it was like to sleep in silence, without her voice poisoning your thoughts, repeating those cruel words like a twisted mantra, reminding you—over and over—that the curse wrapped around you would never leave.

Never.

And what if you were never free?

There were moments when you caught yourself reflecting on that, thinking over and over about “the day you would finally find rest.” But what if that day never came while you were alive? What if you never felt the lightness of a body unburdened, the quiet of a peaceful mind, the chance to live something that was truly yours? What if you never saw the talent everyone claimed you had, simply because you never had time to notice it? What if you never experienced love…

Noah.

What if you never freed yourself from the suffocating feeling of keeping someone trapped inside your own dome of thorns? What if you were never capable of loving him the way normal people loved? What if you never saved him from the sentence of existing at your side, waiting…

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting for a new beginning that might never come.

Finally, you and your mind, crowded with thoughts, left the bathroom. As you stepped through the doorway, you took a deep breath, facing the familiar scene.

This wasn’t your home, and that room wasn’t yours.

He had kept everything exactly the same since the time you called this place home. From the cozy scent to the meticulous organization, everything exuded his essence.

You smiled as your bare feet sank into the carpet you had once argued about keeping clean. And as you hugged your arms tightly across your chest, something twisted in your throat when your gaze landed on the bed you used to share—messy on only one side.

The side where you had slept.

He was everywhere, even though he wasn’t physically within those four walls.

Your feet carried you downstairs slowly, and with each step, the male presence at the kitchen counter came into view—sitting, eating cereal while watching a video on his phone.

You didn’t even need to reach the last step before he turned, as if he could smell you like an animal, no matter the distance.

Noah froze mid-bite, then smirked as he watched you approach.

“I didn’t want to wake you, but I made your coffee,” he said, nodding toward the cabinet.

“You brought me to your house.”

Your words came out quietly as your gaze swept across the kitchen and living room. You felt an absurd need to check if anything was different.

“Our house,” Noah corrected, tilting his head.

“Your house,” you repeated.

"Alright." He nodded reluctantly, resting his spoon on the edge of the porcelain bowl. "I just didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you alone. How are you feeling?"

"You don’t have to act like she was a good mother."

Your voice carried a sharp edge, one you couldn’t control when it felt stronger than you, slipping out of your grasp. You were too apathetic, too irritable for condolences over someone like her.

"That, I know." He shrugged, and you turned your back on Noah, walking to the overstuffed fridge.

Grabbing an energy drink, you snapped the tab open with your finger, feeling his disapproving stare—his silent distaste for you consuming that this early.

"You know how I feel about Crystal. We always fought because I wanted you to stay away from her, while you insisted on torturing yourself, tied to her. I always hated her because, in some way, I blamed her for… for us not being together anymore. But that doesn’t mean I wanted her dead."

"I wish I could say the same."

The truth was, you felt completely hollow inside, incapable of feeling anything at all. Maybe you just hadn’t processed what had happened yet, your brain stuck in limbo, suspended between awareness and denial, keeping you at arm’s length from reality.

His words made you lift your head slowly, meeting Noah’s gaze. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the house, and there was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes. His energy was as low as his voice, but still, he tried to offer comfort.

"You’ve always been stronger than me when it comes to feeling things. Tougher. Not just anything can shake you."

He spoke with difficulty, pressing his fingertips together like he was trying to keep something inside.

"I’m the last person you’d want to trust, and rightfully so. I don’t think I deserve that. But more than anything, I want to be someone you can lean on right now—just like you always were for me. Because this time, it’s you who needs it."

Setting the energy drink on the counter, you couldn’t stop him from touching your hand. Your eyes met, and his skin was warm. The slow breath escaping his nose felt heavy, like he was fighting a battle within himself.

"I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard, little storm."

"Why do you still try?"

Your voice carried no resentment, no bitterness—just a genuine question that had haunted your chest for nine years. Why did he still hold on?

"Because that’s what people who love each other do." He took a deep breath. "They keep waiting. Waiting. Waiting."

A silence, without a single trace of awkwardness, settled in the air.

"I want you to stay here… I can crash at Ruffilo, but don’t insist on going back to that house!"

"It’s not fair to push you out of your own home, Noah…" You protested, slowly releasing his fingers.

"Come on, you, of all people, know that place is unlivable!" He insisted, exasperated. "You know it so well that when we’re in town, you barely even stay there! That place isn’t right for you when you have a real home!"

You rolled your eyes, but maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.

When it came to comfort, that house had none. It was cold, messy, isolated from everything, surrounded by horrible memories, and had long stopped being a safe place. That was where you spent the worst months of your life while the band was away—a period stolen from your mind, a time you were still trying to piece together to make sense of it all.

You didn’t have the luxury of mourning in bed or processing any shred of grief. You needed to understand—urgently—one missing piece of your life.

"I need to go out for a bit, but I’ll see you later."

You announced, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as you rose onto your toes and swiftly grabbed the car keys from the counter.

"I can drive you…" He started innocently but slumped back into his chair, raising his hands in surrender when you shot him a look over your shoulder. "Okay, okay, sorry. You look really pretty today."

Rolling your eyes again, you turned away from him and shut the door behind you, heading toward the garage.

Resting your forehead against the steering wheel, you forced your mind to work at a pace faster than usual.

Like you told Jolly at the hotel, all the memories you had from that period were nothing more than fragmented scenes—blurred, unfinished, as if your brain had never fully processed them. They told you that’s how the mind of an addict worked, that it was your own fault for destroying yourself until your brain suffered the consequences. That was the most convenient argument they could have given.

Your fingers pressed into the sides of your head, as if that would somehow make it function better.

Seeing Dr. Klein’s name on Noah’s prescription bottle had triggered a chain reaction of questions in your head, tangled among the messy, fragmented cuts that resurfaced with the unlocked trigger.

And the biggest question of all was: why?

If you could find the answer to that, you’d be closer than ever to filling this empty gap.

And you knew exactly who could answer it.

Running your nails lightly across your palm, bouncing one leg in a slow yet anxious rhythm. You felt like you were about to face death row. There was no point in rehearsing the right words or the correct approach—it never suited you, not when you had always done what you felt needed to be done, without a script.

The amber glow of the bedside lamp cast a soft light over your body, revealing only part of your silhouette in the armchair. Your eyes never strayed from the door, while inside your chest, your heart felt like it was being shaken back and forth, as if a tractor were dragging it mercilessly. You listened intently to the muffled goodbyes and fading laughter dissolving into the air as he approached the entrance.

His shadow stretched across the floor before the key turned in the lock, and for a moment, your breath nearly faltered.

As soon as he stepped inside, he kicked his shoes down the hall and tossed his coat onto the table. It took him a few seconds to finally turn around—and when he did, he startled, his hand flying to his chest and his eyes widening upon noticing you there, seated in his living room, legs crossed, waiting.

"Hi, Landon." Your voice was cold.

"Angel…" He nearly laughed in awkward surprise, his posture loosening. "How… how did you get in?"

"Your maid isn’t a very trustworthy person when she believes anyone with strong persuasion skills. I spoke, she believed, and here I am." Your tongue traced the edge of your lips, and you shrugged, watching him nod slowly. "Seems like it’s easier to get inside some people’s heads than others."

Landon chuckled, dragging a chair to the center of the room before sitting down. He wasn’t an unattractive man, but at that moment, his presence stirred in you an almost visceral aversion. It was as if he belonged to a distorted version of reality—where his face was grotesque, his scent unbearably peculiar, and even the tone of his voice irritated you. Still, you swallowed hard.

"Well, I like this little visit…" He said, his tone laced with amusement. "You came at the perfect time, angel. Guess what just landed in my hands?"

The enthusiasm with which he referred to you made your eyebrow arch. It was obvious he was drunk; his speech carried a lazy, salacious edge. His eyes, pupils dilated and dark, gleamed beneath the damp strands of sweat-soaked hair falling over his forehead.

Landon leaned slightly forward, inching closer. You tensed as you saw him reach into his pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he was holding a small transparent packet filled with tiny crystalline rocks. He smirked, shaking the package before your eyes, tapping the plastic twice with his index finger.

"Fresh off the market. Got it from my dad a few hours ago—brand new stuff, and he gave it to me to try…" Landon flicked his gaze between you and the drug. "I missed my little friend who’s always up for anything with me."

Your body reacted before your mind could even form a response. You turned your face away with a reluctant jolt and pushed yourself up from the armchair, pacing restlessly back and forth. He frowned, watching your hesitation with a puzzled expression. Even without understanding why you were there, he knew your weakness well—and he knew now was not the time for distractions.

"I’m trying to stay clean."

Your voice came out low, almost a whisper meant only for yourself. You had never really tried before. Never said those words out loud.

"What?" His response was coated in irony, followed by a short laugh. "What kind of stupid joke is that?"

"I’m not joking."

"There’s no way you’re serious, angel." He waved a dismissive hand through the air, as if brushing away the weight of your decision. "We used to have fun together. You were always crazier than me. This kind of shit made your eyes shine. Anything new excited you… Cut the nonsense. Since when did your sober life become so damn interesting?"

"When being too high started warping my sense of reality."

Your voice came out sharper than you realized, the words laced with an icy edge.

"When they started lying to confuse me and incriminate me against myself, using my addiction as their argument, Landon."

His smirk faltered for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by a bored look, as if your response was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. He tilted his head to the side, analyzing you with that expression that had always made your skin crawl—a mix of disdain and feigned understanding.

"And what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?" He let out an exaggerated sigh, throwing his body back against the chair. "This all feels a bit dramatic, angel. You always knew what you were getting into, you knew that people who go overboard end up losing their minds in the long run."

"Why did you lie to me?"

Your voice came out rougher than expected, weighed down by a pressure in your chest, as if invisible hands were squeezing your heart, trying to stop it from beating.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Landon didn’t even flinch, his expression an impenetrable wall of cold indifference. But you felt your own body react to the question, the pressure in your chest intensifying, like sharp claws digging into your ribs. The air felt too dense to reach your lungs.

"You lied."

Your voice faltered before gaining strength.

"You said everything I was feeling was just in my head. That it was a side effect of the shit I was using. You watched me agonize, confused, not knowing what was happening to me. You watched me lie to other people without even realizing it, saw me get crushed by stories I couldn't even refute because I didn’t remember. And you stayed silent."

The words came in bursts, each one delivering a fresh blow to your own chest, as if you were tearing yourself apart just by speaking. The air burned as it passed through your throat.

"You had all the answers, Landon!"

Your tone rose, fury mixing with pain, with the knot tightening around your trachea.

"You knew I wasn’t losing my mind. But you kept forging that reality until I believed in it. Until I doubted myself! Until I let go and accepted a reality that wasn’t mine!"

Your head throbbed, the pressure in your chest growing, like something inside you was about to collapse. But Landon simply took a deep breath, raising his eyebrows, studying you with a gaze devoid of any guilt.

"Notice how your so-called perception of things around you only came back now that you claim to be clean?"

His voice carried a suggestive undertone.

"That proves I didn’t lie, angel. Your mind is so fucked up it keeps inventing scenarios all the time. And now you’re saying it’s my fault that you isolated yourself and tried to take your own life when I tried to help you!"

"STOP LYING!"

You screamed, clutching the sides of your head as tears streamed down your face.

The agony of revisiting that time corroded you from the inside out, like something was peeling your skin away, exposing every nerve raw. It wasn’t just physical pain—it was something deeper, something that ripped through your spirit, crushed your chest, and made your own body feel like a prison with no escape.

"You helped your father cover up my hospitalization… a hospitalization I never consented to."

Your voice trembled, but not from weakness—it was the contained fury spilling over.

"He needed to test how the band would function without me, and when the plan failed, he brought me back. And you… you helped him scramble my memories all over again."

The hazy flashes of that time were becoming more vivid as you demanded more of yourself. You ignored them, but he had repeated, over and over, that they were just side effects—and back then, you had no argument to contest him.

Landon sighed, rolling his eyes as if all of this was just unnecessary drama.

"What’s the point of bringing this up now, angel? I tried to help by hiding that part. No one likes knowing they were sent to rehab."

He shrugged, a cynical half-smile on his lips.

"I didn’t want you to feel even weaker."

Your stomach twisted, a wave of nausea rising in your throat.

"You had no right."

Your voice came out through gritted teeth, disoriented, suffocated by the crushing weight of the truth.

"It was for your own good and for the band’s as well… Wouldn’t have looked good if people found out where you really were during the tour absence. Cheating doesn’t affect contracts, but the lead singer being admitted to rehab? That sure as hell does."

His words landed like a final verdict, but there was nothing comforting about them—only the echo of everything they had stolen from you.

"You violated my body by throwing me into that filthy place!"

Your voice tore through the air, thick with desperation and hatred.

Your chest heaved with quick, ragged breaths, and your fingers dug into your scalp, as if trying to contain the explosion of pain expanding inside you.

"You wrecked my body even more! Left me more addicted than when I went in! You have no idea the dirty, forgotten holes I ended up in… You crushed my mind until I didn’t even know who I was anymore!"

Landon averted his gaze but made no move to respond.

"You pinned all the blame on me, as if I had chosen any of this!"

Your breath became a dry sob.

"You destroyed my relationship…"

Your voice wavered but quickly regained its strength, now filled with resentment.

"You destroyed the man I love!"

The scream cut through the room like thunder, reverberating against the walls and inside his chest.

"Of all the cowardly things you could have done, dragging him into it was by far the worst!"

There was an accusation in every syllable, a weight even Landon, in his usual cynicism, couldn't ignore. He swallowed hard, but you didn’t care. He could feel guilty, he could try to justify himself—nothing, nothing would change what they had done.

"Your father almost did the same thing to Noah now…"

Your voice broke through your sobs.

"As if we were just two dolls he takes pleasure in emotionally torturing."

The silence that followed your outburst was deafening. Landon stared at you, his eyes burning, but you didn’t look away. Your chest ached, compressed by pain and fury that had no escape.

"When he went back on the commitment and decided to pull you out of there before the band returned, he wanted to pretend none of it had happened," Landon continued, as if justifying the unjustifiable. "It wasn’t hard… you were always high, as you know. He told the doctor to increase your doses before releasing you, so it would take longer to leave your system… the rest was just about being convincing."

Your fists clenched. A bitter taste rose in your throat.

"You took me from my home." Your voice came out shaky, but charged with indignation. "I would never leave my home!"

"I did you a favor by helping you!" he shot back, throwing the words as if they were a gift. "Your relationship with Noah was already falling apart, you two fought like cats and dogs. He hated who you were, but I didn’t! I always accepted you just the way you were! We spent way more time together than you ever did with him! You yourself said he was boring, especially after he started not being able to stand you!"

You let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"Stop acting like I lived the best moments of my life by your side." Your gaze burned. "Stop acting like you're anything more than what you really are: a bastard who even to have my friendship had to keep me drugged, because you know you're despicable."

Landon scoffed, stepping forward, his face twisted in anger.

"DON’T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!"

"Or what?" You lifted your chin, disdain sharp in your voice. "Are you going to commit me again? Keep lying to me to feed your rotten ego? You go along with your father because you resent your biggest competitor. Gerard is a criminal, he’s disgusting… but you are just as filthy as he is."

Landon was breathing heavily, his fingers trembling. You could feel the tension pulsing in the air, but you didn’t back down.

"And you know what’s worse?" Your voice lowered, but the wound throbbed in your words. "This is going to be your life, Landon. You will never have a woman who loves you and protects you with everything she has. You will never have a friendship that truly cares about you. You will never have genuine success, the kind that comes from your own talent and not your father’s name."

You tilted your head slightly, piercing him with your eyes.

"You will always be a nobody, even in the eyes of your father, who only sees you as just another employee."

Your voice dropped to a near whisper, almost smug, as you leaned in to deliver one last message slowly.

"I will make you pay for every drop of suffering you put me through these last few months. I will make you regret every ounce of siding with him… I will make you want to die."

Landon’s eyes gleamed with something dark, the barely contained rage pulsing beneath his carefully maintained mask of calm. He tilted his head slightly, like a predator assessing its prey.

"Careful with your words, angel…" His voice dipped into a low, almost whispered threat.

You felt the weight of that warning, but you didn’t waver. Your chest still burned, compressed by the rage and sorrow that had boiled for years. He could try to intimidate you, but it was far too late for that.

"Your father already tried to break me once, thinking I was a threat, darling." You stepped forward, your breath steady. "I’ve been a survivor since the day I was born. For someone like you to even remotely scare me, you’d have to be born again."

Landon remained still for a moment, but his clenched fists trembled. You saw the mask slip for just a second—a second of frustration, of hatred, of something he would never admit out loud.

But you already knew.

He would never have what he wanted. And you would never be broken by them again.

Now, you would take your life back.

⭑ @bloody-spades ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline​ ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby

[macsimagines]

would you be ok doing yan shin ending up yandere for one of the girls who rejected him, the last one, the first one, any number in between

Ok my own personal head canon cause I don't think he was rejected by 20 separate women, but 20 consecutive times by the same person

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, YANDERE TENDENCIES, NO MEANS NO GUYS

YANDERE!Shinichiro Sano

Oh baby, you're the one. And it doesn't matter if you tell him no 20 times in a row or a hundred, he'll never love anyone the way he loves you. It's almost admirable that he never gets deterred. It might be even romantic... If he wasn't so fucking creepy lately.

It started when you two were children, he'd come up to you on the playground, a bouquet of weeds clutched in his hands. "I love you! Marry me!" "No."

But that never stopped him, it didn't matter how much time had passed or how old you two got he'd confess and confess to you all the same. Every few months or so and since you're so used to his antics you let him. It really does endear you to him if anything.

"Y/N! You're my soulmate! Please go out with me." "Naw, good effort though. Want to go get mochi with me?"

It was pretty normal between you two aside from the occasional; "My heart sings for you and my soul yearns to intertwine with yours! Be with me forever~" "....Shin its 4am." You two are basically very close friends, and usually he's good at going back to normal after every rejection.

But lately.... he's been more unhinged. You don't go on dates with other guys because Shinichiro is always somehow sabotaging them, you're catching him following you around town and now... it's like he's skipped right over asking for you to accept and reciprocate your feelings. He's been acting like you're already together.

He starts to call you things like; Baby, sweetheart, love and of course darling. No matter how many times you try to draw the line he just keeps crossing it. His hands linger longer than you're ok with, he's stopped his behavior from being anything other than blatantly intimate and when you try to bring it up...

"What do you mean? Aren't we a couple?" "No! I never accepted your feelings!" "Of course you did. Why else would you keep me around if you didn't love me back."

And then it clicks. He's deluded himself into believing that you have some kind of a relationship, despite your constant refusals. Shinichiro thinks... you're finally his.

"I get it baby. 20 no's in a row was getting to me, but now it makes sense. You don't need words between us to make what we have real. Our love is so much bigger than that! I'm sorry for not realizing it sooner."

[just-animaxiz]

More Background Redesigns!

Two of them are already named: Buttermaker and Harry

And the girl's not named, but I do like the name Elena from the other au by @peacenessbringshappiness

Here are their bits!

BUTTERMAKER

Buttermaker is an active player, especially at Jet-ski racing!

He sees the Freshmen boys like little bros - Specifically Randy and Bucky. That is because he has little brothers who are freshmen too, but they're in another school!

It's also why he has different methods based on his anger against his little bros. For example, when Randy accidentally ruined his jet-ski and he was really sorry, Buttermaker only pinched his ear.

Buttermaker used to live near a beach, so it's understandable with his obsession of water, swimming, and sunscreen.

He is dating Jiefan and Soo-Ho, and they are a happy polyamory together. Buttermaker is like their golden retriever boyfriend.

He used to hate math, but when Harry is his study buddy, he became close to him due to Harry's help (even though Harry doesn't like him)

Buttermaker doesn't have favorites, but he is a big fan of the Oni (Aka Spike). His big brother energy and moves are the BRUCE!

HARRY

Harry is, what you can call, a petty man.

Even though he is sophisticated and a perfectly-adjustable man in studies, Harry has a jealousy streak. Especially towards Buttermaker.

Why is the idiot popular when Harry worked his way up?! He's the top head of the Norrisville High Moustache Society - He have grades worthy of scholarships - And he's the only one who have success in his jobs!

And most importantly, why did Jiefan have to date that stupid, idiotic, -

Despite his jealousy, Harry is a good writer, especially when it comes to music. He is a fan of this popular series featuring a human wizard in a magical school.

ELENA

Elena is sassy, fashionable, and cares more about her hair than anything.

Her hair means everything to her, and she takes care of it every day. People may say she's self-absorbed, but that's because Elena had bad bullying experiences with kids cutting off her hair.

Even though she is spoiled, Elena doesn't treat others in a bad way. She only treat others who deserves it, like the blonde twins who like to brag to one-up her everyday.

Elena has a crush, but she doesn't reveal it to anyone. She doesn't keep it in her notes or anything, just in her head.

There are things mysterious about Elena, but all you need to know is that she has a great sense of fashion for decades!

[spider-ghoul]

Big brown eyes w luke castellan (they hate each other but theyre desperately inlove)

(Go listen to Lola young btw)

Cw: mentions of sex stuff but no real smut, kissing, idk

----------------

You really wish it had been anyone else.

Seriously, anyone.

It was on the brink of obsession with how tightly you were wrapped around Luke Castellan's finger.

One look and you'd be sneaking out to meet him at the strawberry fields, the edge of the woods, the beach, or anywhere he found that he thought would give the two of you enough privacy for the night. One note slipped into your pocket (you still weren't quite sure how he did that), and you'd be leaving campfire early to slip away with him. The power he had over you was definitely a problem.

He was cocky, and arrogant, and such a flirt with everyone he deemed pretty or handsome enough- and you'd ignored all of that because of those big brown eyes and how'd they look at you, with his hand guiding your lips to meet his while his other wandered to tug on your belt loops and grip your hips.

If anyone were to find out, you'd blame him. You'd deny anything that pointed to you watching him teach some new kid a sword drill, waiting for him to take a break so you could ask him to meet you tonight. You'd deny being as desperate for him as you were. You'd deny it being anything other than late night sessions. You'd deny wanting his hands to hold yours in a more tender way.

Having a crush on Luke Castellan was definitely an accident, quickly turning into a problem. Especially when his hands pawed at your thighs and your hands were in his hair.

You knew he was aware of your eyes on him. There was no way he didn't notice your gaze on his camp shirt, the way it scrunched around his arms didn't go unnoticed.

Though, what you didn't know was how much it distracted him. How much he felt your eyes glaring into him, making his chest tight. How early he ended that kid's practice (sorry Ness) to go bother you.

You had to suppress a small smile when he approached the stands.

"You like what you see?"

You scoffed, "You wish, Castellan." Your voice was dry, but tense. He knew the tone.

You scoffed harder when his grin widened.

"So tonight?"

You groaned.

"Can you say that any louder?" You muttered, rubbing between your eyes, "Yes, asshole."

"If you keep being so mean about it we could reschedule," he was calling your bluff, and he had that stupid smile to prove it, "no weight off my back."

"I despise you." Then, quieter, "Tonight."

He grinned, "Yeah, yeah, I've got it. Usual spot?"

"Yes, fine, whatever."

He laughed at you, a sound that made your stomach swirl almost as much as it made your blood boil.

------

You jumped a little at the sound of foot steps on grass, snapping you back to reality when you saw Luke next you.

By the time you'd actually heard him, he had gotten close enough to wrap his arms around your waist. It had to be some Hermes thing, being so good at moving around without a sound.

"I should put a bell on you-" you sighed, turning to face him, is arms still snugly around you waist.

"What? I like seeing you jump."

You huffed, though before you could make another remark at him, his lips were pressed on yours and you decided to be rude later.

He pulled you a bit closer to him, humming when your hands found his shirt. After a moment, he pulled away. Looking at you for a long moment of content, he sighed happily.

"Dammit, sweetheart," he whispered, "I can't stay away from you anymore." His smile dropped for a moment.

You watched his face, his eyes were on yours, his eyes flicking over your face as if it was the last time you'd ever seen it.

"You aren't exactly staying away right now, are you?"

"That's not what i meant."

"Then what did you mean--?"

Luke sighed, letting his arms drop from your waist. He seemed uncomfortable. Wow. Making Luke Castellen uncomfortable must've been some sort of accomplishment.

"Luke?" You pushed a bit further, letting your own hands find his, holding them lightly. You were looking at his hands in yours when he spoke up.

"I want you, sweetheart." He whispered, his hands twisting to intertwine with yours. Your eyes flicked up to his.

"You have me." Your hands complied, letting his hands consume yours and squeezing his hand once.

"I want you more than..this." He said it so quietly, dropping your hands.

You paused, hands now colder, and heart stopped in your chest. you reached for his hands again.

"You can have me. More than this." You whispered, bringing one of his hands up to cup your face, "As much as you want."

He tugged your face closer, kissing you again, softer this time.

You got a few weird looks when you showed up to breakfast the next day, holding Luke's hand and wearing one of his shirts.

[shiregoth]

eddie munson x diabetic!reader hcs

gn reader, no use of y/n. blog is 18+, these hcs aren't. wc: 500 | tldr eddie CARES ok. this is completely self-indulgent fluff, sorry not sorry.

eddie would be your walking snack bag. gummies? he's got 'em. glucose tabs? 2 packs. juice box? chocolates? fruit? whatever your starved brain can come up with, if he doesn't have it on his person somewhere in those big jeans pockets, he's got it in the back of his van. that's where the magic happens. (sometimes the magic is keeping you alive when the mid-make-out low hits.)

will hold you when you cry over a fucked injection/bg test site. sometimes that needle just hits the wrong way somehow, despite the routine, and then there's blood everywhere and shit hurts and you're just so tired but he's got you. holding you so close 'n tight to keep you together till you stop sobbing, and then slowly loosening you up when you're a lil' better. swings you back and forth, first softly, then more and more till you're shaking and cackling. starts tickling the parts of your tummy that don't hurt. obnoxiously blows raspberries against the side of your head, on your shoulders, chest, upper stomach. chest again bc lbr that's his fave place to be. by the end you're red and panting, not just from laughter.

not just doesn't mind, but is obsessed with watching you handle your equipment. refilling your pen. calibrating your bg meter. putting in a new injection site and fiddling with your pump. eddie wants to know how it all works, and not just ""in case"" but because he's genuinely interested. would ask more questions about What's That Do at the doc's office than you do. also loves kissing that little forehead crease you get when one of the stuffs malfunctions. (he calls it "misbehaving" and he's given them names. don't be mad at betty g. meters, she's doing her best job just like you.)

a l w a y s wakes up with you at night. if it's from a bg alarm or bc you wake up from feeling shit by yourself, as soon as you wind out of his arms to get a snack or a glass of water, he's up. bed's cold, you're warm, and he's used to you being his favorite pillow to wrap around. if you don't come back quick by yourself he'll come pick you up from the Midnight Kitchen Funk and sits it out with you together. (comfortably. snuggled. in bed.)

knows the pharmacy staff by name. they love it when he comes in to pick up your prescriptions, he's always very polite and very sweet to the people having a good hand in keeping you alive. (also pays part of the costs from his side business. what else's he making the big money for?)

indulges and exploits your health and other people's misinformation about it. yeah sorry no can do comin' to work today. yeah it's a bad diabetes day. yeah they feel like shit. it'll be all day gotta stay with them sorry yeah. / you got us, it's contagious. gift from the devil himself, actually. if you keep annoying us we'll curse you with it too. yah we're right at the source. bye <3

[theghostlyunknown]

In love with the way the boat boys are obsessed with each other yet refuse to admit it. Joel “changed his skin to etho fanboy shirt once and now eefos obsessed with him obviously” Beans. Etho “watches all of Joel’s hardcore episodes but only on auto play obviously” slab. Insane behavior. Good job guys.

[royaltea000]

[jttw oc] cursed to be an obligate carnivore, ate his entire family one particularly bad winter

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Thinking about how Calder went to extreme lengths to transform himself into a dragon (made armor based on it, tattood his literal entire body, kidnapped people just to have Hiccup and Toothless be his missing fire and wings) while Hiccup is seen as Other throughout the franchise without even trying.

[epiphainie]

.

[jeremiahthefroge]

yeah ok so I caved. Lit up another bowl, opened a new folder on my Obsidian vault, and I'm gonna rewatch the minecraft diaries and I'm going to take detailed notes on everything plot related I can, separated episode by episode, make observations, and then create a little personal wikipedia of my interpretations of the characters as they appear on the show.

I just did episode one to do what is essentially a "am I capable of watching this" test (I feared since it was 2016 youtube that I was into in the year 2016, a historically terrible year for me, that I would have some HEAVILY BIASED ideas on the quality of this show, and that if I rewatched I would ruin it for myself) and I honestly didn't have too hard of a time with the youtube of it all. Cringe is and has been dead, and I'm looking at this like a fun little excercise in studying how this piece of media tells the story it tells.

Speaking of, I find it so interesting how the machinima of Zenix and Garroth kicks us off and we then have Aphmau speaking as like... a comentary youtuber. The machinima sets up a plot that isn't even hinted more at in the episode, too, but I can see the first 10 or whatever episodes having all been recorded in 1 batch all at once and then cut up. I don't recall how characterized Aphmau gets in this whole thing.

And also I find Aphmau doing the voices for Garroth and Zenix so unironically fun and endears me to the series. Idk why but it made me smile!

I'll probably liveblog more of this experience bc I'm incapable of keeping my mouth shut.