#tw stalker behavior

[skumhuu]

What would Stalker!Killer do if someone, for example Stalker!Cross(if he finds out about him), brought up Color? Like in an argument or something.

Oh!! Good question! He’d stab them 😂

None of the current cast know anything about Killer’s past, they don’t even know his name. Once Nightmare called him Killer, that became his new name, his new identity. I refuse to talk about any of Killer’s old names because it feels like deadnaming him.

But if Killer were to tell Cross about his past love (Color was Special but he wouldn’t want Nightmare to feel less Special and loved if Killer told him), and Cross had the gall to mention him during a fight? Killer would stab him.

Then they would devolve into a bloody bitey mess. Cross would beat the crap out of him back. Blood would be everywhere, and they’d probably just end up doing other steamy things while covered in blood at the end.

[spectrerie]

Would you let me go? Even if I asked you to

Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader.

Requested by my awesome mutual @lululandd

Part One. ~ 3k words.

Simon meets a young woman on a night out with the 141 ft. Los Vaqueros. He's drawn to protect her and when she needs him, he makes a promise he's not sure he can keep. With one war over another begins, and his task: Protecting you, no matter what it takes.

POV alternates between Ghost and the Reader.

this is a stalker fic where Ghost watches over the reader and discovers that he's not the only one doing so. Eliminate the hostiles and fulfil his mission. Easy. Right?

TW: Stalking, kidnapping, murder, extreme depictions of violence, swearing and foul language, threats, minor character death. Possessive!Simon, Toxic!Simon

Additional parts to come, with additional warnings. This is just a general TW for the whole fic

“I swear lads, I swear I thought I was gonna die of laughter if he didn’t kill me first!” Drinks sloshed and laughter rang out around them as Gaz recounted some sage, albeit dodgy, advice Price had given him. 

A night out with the 141 and two of the friends they’d made along the way was long overdue. The weeks of blood, sweat, and smoke had taken its toll on them. Killing came with a a cost, and they paid it gladly. For their countries, for the world. For themselves. 

Life in battle was easy, everything came down to friend or foe. Friends were hard to make, and the latter easy to dispose of. Usually. Killing could be easy, if they let it be. If that made them bad people so be it, they’d be bad to keep the balance. But not tonight. 

Tonight donned in their civvies they occupied a corner booth of a hole in the wall pub, a town away from the barracks. It was their last night all together, one of their first nights all safe. Before the Cowboys went back home to fight another day. Before Soap went back to Scotland to see the country he missed dearly. And before Ghost and Gaz went back to their corners of England. Before Ghost crawled back to the barracks, to the only life he knew how to live. 

“Ah, will ye fuck off, ‘e didnae say that!  ‘ E’s been up te his oxters in work.” Soap barked out as he clutched his sides. The group waited with baited breath, stifling peals of laughter as they waited for Ghost’s response. 

“Christ, Johnny. In English?” The stoic blonde said from across the table. 

“Eh? D’ye no ken what I’m sayin’ L.t? That was bloody English.”  Soap whined back as he closed his bleary eyes. The first of the laughs began to eek out. When he opened them the blonde Lieutenant was staring back at him with his dark eyes. “Gaun'ae no dae that? That was bloody English! Fine. ’Oh emm gee, he did not say that. He has like totally been up to his armpits with work!’ THERE!” Johnny shouted back in a mock American accent. 

The group fell about themselves with laughter as Simon shook his head slowly. 

They needed this. This release. There’d been other nights for tears, for recalling the horrors they’d seen over the months, but not tonight. Tonight was only for good things. For accents coming out  too thick, for drinking too much knowing you were in safe company, for friendship. 

Ghost stood and pulled his dark cap lower, casting a shadow over his face. “Same orders, yeah?” He asked the group and he walked out of the booth. He had to good sense to leave the mask at home. Or so they thought. He had it folded in the inner pocket of his jacket, his armour against the world.

“I’ll have a Dom Perignon if you’re buying, whole bottle please.” Called out Gaz as Alejandro poured him another shot of earthy Tequila. 

Ghost shook his head and huffed out a low laugh, chasing tequila with pints. They were clever chaps, weren’t they?

As he made his way across the bar, the din of dozens of conversations hushed as he walked by, the packed room parting in his wake. He cut an intimidating figure. Six foot two, almost six four in this heavy dark boots. A myriad of faded scars dusting his jaw and hands, the only part of him easily visible. The brightest thing about him was his blonde hair, neatly tucked away from prying eyes. He didn’t need the mask tonight. His crew knew his face, and no one in the pub could bring themselves to look at it, averting their eyes sheepishly as he moved by them. At most people glance up at the top of his head in awe, surveying the space he took up with his sheer bulk and height. He didn’t need to be Ghost. Not here.

He placed a hand on the bar and slid in, eliciting no complaints from the other patrons. What could they have said? Move? That’d be the day. 

— — — 

“So you’re not going crack a smile, baby? I thought that was a pretty good one.” The drunken lout beside you laughed in your face, the smell of hops, stale cigarettes and chips blowing at you. 

“Ha. Ha.” You said dryly. Turning your attention to the bartender trying to get drinks for you and your ever-late friend. You felt an overly warm, sticky hand slide around your waist, tugging you back towards him. “Alright then, you tell me a joke, if I’m no good at ‘em.” 

“I’d rather not, sorry.” You said with a terse smile, eyes drifting back to the bartender hoping to catch his eye. 

“Okay, okay, let’s play a new game if you don’t like jokes. If I guess your name you buy me a pint,  but if you tell me now I’ll buy you one.” He winked at you, or rather he tried to. 

“How about I tell you and you go away?” You asked, before barking out your name and turning away, though his grip on you tightened.  

“Oi, mate. Two Coronas, three lagers. Whatever’s easy, yeah?” 

A low voice beside you called out to the bartender you’d been playing a one sided game of cat and mouse with. 

“Is Carling alright?” The bartender’s attention went straight to the owner of the voice beside you, as did yours. You were about to tell him you’d been here first, as you looked up and you were met  not with a face, but the middle of a wide set of shoulders. Was this a man or a mountain?

“Excuse m-“ craning your neck up you caught a glimpse of a face and your protests died on your lips. The giant was handsome. In a rugged, cold sort of way, but handsome nonetheless. He cast a glance in your direction that turned cold quickly. All the heat of your body pooled at the bottom of your stomach, you didn’t even notice the arm around your waist had dropped immediately. 

“Hmm?” He grumbled in way of a prompt. 

“Uhh, I was— I was just going to say I’ve been waiting.” 

“I don’t know you.” He said curtly. A normal person would ask ‘do I know you?’, or rather a normal person would understand basic bar etiquette. Though it seemed this man had no need for niceties. 

“Well no, I was waiting to order my drinks. Didn’t anyone teach you any manners?” You said, letting go of your decorum. Two could play at this game. You’d had enough of men thinking they could have whatever they wanted.

“What?” He said, turning away from the bartender. Your bravado dissipated as quickly as you’d found it. You felt your eyes grow round in shock and a heat creep up your neck to your face. 

“I just-“ your sentence was cut off by a low laugh from him as he said “What, as in what were you going to order?” 

“Ah… just two ciders, sorry.” Fuck. Where had all your confidence gone, he wasn’t going to hit you for teaching him manners. 

His gaze grew cold again, well maybe he was. 

“You let your girl do all the talking, do you?” He said, seemingly to the man who’d been pestering you for the better part of your evening thus far. 

“I’m not his anything.” You said before the man behind you had a chance to speak. 

The handsome one turned away from you again, “And two ciders, cheers.” He said to the bartender. When the man behind the bar asked what sort he angled himself back to you again, you sheepishly pointed to the tap of your choosing and said your thanks quietly. 

You heard your name from the pest behind you and ignored it, watching the bartender pull your pints along with those of the only person at the bar you had any interest in. 

“Fine then, be a bitch.” The man huffed and walked away, you only knew because your new companion’s eyes watched him closely as he left. Tracking him through the crowd. Something about him made your skin tingle. Made the hairs on your body stand. There was an edge to him that scared you.

“Sorry about him” you said at the same time, eliciting a laugh from you both. 

“So, you planning on neckin’ two pints or are you waiting on someone?”  He asked as he slid his card over to the barman. 

“Oh, no you don’t have to pay for these. Please, let me ge-“ 

“Think of them as payment, for tonight's lesson. Anyway, are you alone?” 

“Oh, I’m just waiting on a friend.” You shook you head, confused. “Wait. What lesson?” 

He laughed, tucking his card back into his pocket, arranging his three pint glasses into a triangle, then balancing the two bottles on their rims. He’d never be able to carry these back to his table, at least not without spilling half their contents.

“In manners,” he said with a wink before grasping the drinks in his big hands and slipping back into the flow of the crowd, disappearing like a ghost. 

— — — 

“Bloody took you long enough, L.t” Gaz crowed, clearly they’d need less pints and a few glasses of water to offset all the tequila they’d drunk in Simon’s absence. 

“Did you go to brew la cheve, Ghost?” Rudy chimed in, emboldened by the alcohol. 

Ghost huffed and set the full drinks down deftly. “Shut up and drink.” He didn’t have to tell them twice. 

The conversation and alcohol flowed easily as the boys cleansed themselves of the stresses of war. Minutes rolled into hours and their raucous laughs drew a few sidelong glances to their table, they couldn’t care less. 

“Right,” Garrick said as he stood, clapping his hands together and rubbing them mischievously. “I’d murder a kebab right now. Have you lads had kebabs before?” He asked their Mexican companions. Soap stood and stretched, the promise of a trip to the chippers rousing him from his stupor. “Not a kebab on a stick, like… with lamb and cabbage and sauce, y’know. A kebab.” he chimed in, clapping Gaz on the back for his enlightened suggestion. Alejandro and Rudy shook their heads with a laugh, “teach us the British way, amigos. Where do we get this ‘kebab’?” Rudy asked as he and the other two men stood from the table. 

The pros and cons of a kebab after a night out were being discussed as though life’s meaning could be deciphered after one drunken bite. As Soap and Gaz evangelised a groggy ‘no!’ caught Simon’s attention. The quiet pleads were mixed with a name that was new, yet familiar. 

“One second, lads,” he said as he moved ahead of the group, instinctively making his way towards the source of the disquieting feeling growing in his chest. Something was wrong, very very wrong. 

“No, I don’t— I want to go. I don’t— I’m too tired. I want—no,” the girl from the bar was pulling against the grip of the man who’d ran with his tail between his legs at the first sign of confrontation. Simon didn’t have to listen to the young woman’s garbled sentences to know this shouldn’t be happening. She didn’t know him. She didn’t trust him. Neither did he. The would be assailant kept muttering her name and steering her towards the door as she shook her head and kept glancing behind her. 

“Oi. Is there a problem, mate?” Simon asked, as his friends caught up with him. The man blanched as he looked up at Simon, growing quiet as the girl's protests got louder, drawing the attention of the few patrons left in the pub. 

“She’s wasted, I’m just trying to get her home,” a shaky laugh punctuated the lie. 

“I’m sure. But she doesn’t know you.” Simon pushed the mans shoulder, sending him two steps back and giving the girl the chance to shake him off. 

“She… her friend knows me, he told me to get her home. Right? David,” he reached out to the girl in an attempt to get her attention. The look in Simon’s eyes told him that wasn’t a smart move. “Hey, tell them that David told me to-” before the sentence could end Soap spoke up, putting himself between Simon and the man, as Simon stepped closer. Whether this David existed or not didn’t matter, the Lieutenant was ready to separate the man’s lying head from his body. A scene was ill advised, especially if the police ended up getting involved. 

“Alright,” Soap said, he reigned in his brogue as best he could, “let’s not put words in anyone’s mouth.” He began trying to deescalate the situation, much to Simon’s irritation. The girl looked up at him and he watched as she took in his face and something dawned on her. 

“Ah, manners,” she said, mumbling to herself as she drew nearer to him. Simon couldn’t help but soften at that, pulling her close and wrapping an arm around her protectively. She’s been full of fire at the bar, a small part of him felt more sad than angry at the situation she found herself in. Maybe he should have stayed with her, at least until her friend came. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Can you tell me your friends name, or what they look like? Maybe we can find-”

“The ghost with manners” she said weakly as she pressed her head against his chest, body going slack, knees buckling beneath her. Simon’s arms reached around her, his grip like a vice pressing her closer to him. The Ghost. 

Ghost. How could she know that name?

He clung to her weak frame like a raft on a rocky sea. His fingers digging into the soft flesh of her as they both spiralled. 

— — — 

Weak pleads and careful promises swirled behind you, you couldn't hear them. Not really. Every fibre of your being was fixed on the man holding you up. The ghost from the bar with the big hands and scary eyes. But he wasn’t scary now, not anymore. Not to you. 

“Hey,” his deep voice rang out above the world around you, though he spoke to you gently. A whisper that contained the roar of a distant sea. Who? Who was he? 

“Simon, my name’s Simon.” 

Shit. Had you said that out loud? Why couldn’t you tell? Why couldn’t you stand? You tried to take a shaky step back, to get free. To get a better look at this ‘Simon’, but your legs wouldn’t work, the muscles felt heavy and useless. How were you still standing, why couldn’t you remember how you’d gotten here? 

You and David had been drinking, laughing. He’d gone to the bathroom. Said he’s meet you at the door and you’d get a taxi home together. Then the room began to slip away.  A tide pulled you to the door. Sticky hands, a shake voice, and your name over and over again as you were pulled away.  You’d wanted to fight but your body wouldn’t let you. You wanted to scream but your voice wouldn’t work right, your words didn’t fit together. The last few minutes became a puzzle somehow, and it terrified you.

Then Simon. 

Like some vengeful angel, he appeared from nowhere. Pulling you close, holding you up though you felt as heavy as a star. 

“Please, Simon… Simon,” you muttered, not sure whether he could hear you or if you were speaking in your mind again. Though a part of you felt like he could hear everything in there too. 

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ve got you.” 

Suddenly you were warm and weightless, drifting through the cold air. Fear beat in your chest, thumping against your ribs like a molten ball. You were going to die. You were certain. Your stomach rolled at the realisation. 

“You’re not going to die, pet. You’re just a bit poorly now. But I’ve got you.” 

His voice was closer now, warm lips pressed against your ear as he spoke into your mind. You wanted to believe him, so badly. You wanted to believe it was true. 

“It is. I won’t let you die. I swear.” 

“Don’t you let— don’t let me down. Are you gonna drop me?” please don't, Simon. Please. 

“No, never.”

Simon.  

Your ghostly Simon. The word shone bright in your foggy mind. “Never— don't hurt me.” 

Something deep in you told you he couldn't.

— — — 

The nurse at the desk was asking all the wrong questions. Simon could guess the answers she wanted, he could form a loose timeline in his mind. A version of events that made sense. But one thing was certain, he’d have to embellish the truth to get the right result. Civilian life was easier in someways, harder in others. 

He gave her a name, gave an approximation of an age but he wouldn’t be allowed to stay with you unless he started filling in the blank spaces. He’d made a promise to you, and he’d keep it. 

“I need a surname for the intake form, sir. Do you actually know this young lady?” 

He sighed. He wasn’t the villain here. He knew how it looked, five men bringing a clearly intoxicated girl into the ER was dodgy. But he wasn’t the villain. 

“Yeah, I already said that. Look, she needs help, and I have to stay with her, she’ll be looking for me when she wakes up.” 

“I understand that sir, but only family are allowed to stay with patients overnight. And you still haven’t given me her—“

Surname and relationship to him. Yeah, because he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to be here, all night if it took that long. He had to be there when you woke up, so he could fulfil his promise. So you'd know you were safe.

“Riley. It’s Riley.” 

“And you’re family?” 

Was he?

“Yes, of course.” 

Now he was.

[irojewne]

matts now harrassing rita on other websites she left to seek refuge on, as well as [checks notes] continuing to backtrack and change his reasoning as to why she was banned

like man. shes gone. can you leave her alone now??

[zennotixs]

[yukikozummm]

Pop Singer!reader x Stalker!shigaraki

Inspired from a recent blorbo idea i posted here

TW! Stalking, implied misogyny, incel tendencies, toxic character.

Imagine if reader released oddly specific love songs aside from the usual ones she makes T_T

He knew her (maybe a little too well), now were these songs about him?

God forbid if they were about another man, he'll savor every line of the newest album if it meant a sliver of a doubt that it was him she were talking about. Come on, who was she kidding? No one knew her any more than he did!

All those anonymous fan posts, gifts, and from the moment she was just an indie musician, all he could do was gatekeep her to his heart's content. When ever did he fail to be by your side?

His little group of friends always sought to point out his fixation over the artist. He's always made it his pride to have an extensive music taste, and yet she has been one of the least likely to make it to his oh-so sophisticated list of artists. Some kind of asian Anthony Fantano that praises this one up and coming pop singer. Well he can't have doubts now, every state you've toured is no different from the states he's visited-- no less than the hotels you've checked in are more likely the same as the one's he has been in.

You can't remember what floor and room number you were in? Just follow the ominous hoodied stranger present at every hotel you decide as your abode for the next week or so!

But man, you should've told him you were interested in a relationship, y'know? Can't admit he didn't see this coming, of course, why would you ever settle for a computer nerd who wasn't even in the industry? Even if he was the only one who understood who you really were.

Yeah, thanks for leading him on. Women really are the same. Guess this makes up for all the stolen underwear. You give a girl everything and they just turn on you to give the audience another goody-two-shoes performance about some other fuckwad who probably doesn't give two shits about her.

He turns off your latest single. Your first albums were better. Take it from a real fan.

[zhensheng]

the zone witch™ and kind of... gachi fight?? idk wanted to draw some dark red shit

tw/cw blood, selfharm, stitching wounds (?) undercut

me too😭

[sexiersecrets]

The urge to hypnotize him and program his brain so he gets crazy obsessed and never thinks of another human being besides me ♥︎

[ej-scythe-riley]

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎? 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛? 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗?

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚝.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢.

𝚃𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗.

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎.

(This is mine, don't steal it.)

[dr-xanders-diary]

Our beginning.. I love you.. 2

Watching you turn over after another session of; sweating, moaning, intertwined pleasure: sex. You grabbed your phone to check the time, a small bead of sweat trailing down the side of your temple, and down your cheek, you're worn out, face flushed and still shaky. 'God you are so gorgeous..' The smell of sex lingering in the air as I lay on my back, my chest slowly rising and falling steadily, catching my wind. Before we slowly get up to clean ourselves and make the bed before we settle for the night. It's been a year since we first started dating. Specifically 1 year, 6 months, 10 days, 9 hours, and 45 minutes. Yes, I counted every moment with you, because I love you.

I've had the liberty of dropping you off to work on many occasions, and picking you up for dates, and events that you enjoyed. You've come to my apartment on few occasions, luckily, for me you prefer spending time together in your own space, as I enjoy spending time at your place as well. Not for the reasons you'd think. I do enjoy being in my space with you, but there is just so much lingering things, secrets, that I can't have you uncovering. Not yet, not ever. A small collection of you, hidden in not so well hidden places. Small things, things that I noticed you wouldn't miss, things that can be blamed on the dog, or misplacement, and the laundry mat. So far I have; a night shirt, a hair scrunchy, a pair of earrings, a bracelet, necklace, a note from your journal, a book of yours, underwear.. These are just a few small things that I have of you. Things to keep me focused, to remind me of you. Things that help me, when I'm missing you. A little- motivation, so to speak.

Especially when you're out with your friends. Don't get me wrong I do think you should have friends, and spend time with them, but your choice of friends-. Well they are interesting at best, and shitty at worst. Darling.. you need new friends. Better friends, you shouldn't have to settle, just because you've known each other for years. Your friends need to take accountability for themselves. To admit, they are the cause of their own mayhem. But one friend of yours, that I know shouldn't be trusted around you, is John.

John, charismatic, athletic, funny, and a little bit too kind. He likes you, he-.. loves you. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he looks at you, he swears you're 'just friends'. But I know. I know the difference in how you look at a friend, versus when looking at someone you are so deeply in love with. His love, almost borders on obsession, he's dangerous. You, should know this. From the first time we met; I knew when he shook my hand, the way he gripped my hand, forced a smile and said "It's nice to meet you ******* (x)" through gritted teeth. I knew that he would be a problem, one that we couldn't get through, one that I would have to take care of, because he is a danger to us. He could take you-, away from me. And we don't want that, I don't want that; I've made you happy, I've given you safety, and comfort. Don't you want to continue to be happy? And safe?

That's why, I've finally decided to take matters into my own hands. Especially with his constant vague threats of stealing you away from me. You're not some object, you're a person, but; you're my person. I will be damned if he ever tried to take you away from me, he would have to kill me. And John, John is in for a big surprise when he gets home. Unfortunately for him I know exactly where he lives, and I know his dirty little secrets-, or at least I thought I did.

I made my way into his apartment while he was out drinking with you and your friends, taking matters into my own hands, I had planned to plant some of your belongings that he had touched the last time he stopped by your apartment on his couch and coffee table for you to see when everyone came over from drinking. But when I got inside and started to look through some of his things, making my way to his room, I saw something. Your clothes, a book of yours and your missing pillow case laid on his bed, with tissues littered on the floor.

'Fucking gross John..'

We looked everywhere for your items for weeks before giving up. 'This fucking bastard. A secret I didn't expect. I knew you were dangerous John. ' And your things were right here in Johns' apartment this whole time. Right then I heard it, the taxi pulling up and your voices echoing from the alley. 'Fuck I'm screwed if they see me.' I peeked out of the window to see you, and two of your other friends staying in the cab, John making his way to the apartment building stumbling and laughing.. Alone. Perfect. We can talk alone and I can tell him to fuck off properly. Or so I thought.

I knew if you were with friends you'd go out to get food and talk with your friends for several more hours and end up staying the night at one of the girls houses.

When John made it into his apartment you pinged my phone, 'We're going out for tacos and drinks might be home late or tomorrow'.

Great timing babe.

John looked up from where he stood putting his keys on the kitchen counter as he heard the ping, and stared at me. His eyes filled with resentment, hate, jealousy, bewilderment. "You.. What the FUCK are YOU doing here ******* (X)?!" The drunkenness seemed to begin to wear off as he made his way toward me, as I stood by his couch. "John, you took things that aren't yours-" Before I could finish speaking, John swung his right fist at me, barely missing me. Fuck this bastard, he wont go down without a fight. "You saw-.. I'm going to KILL YOU". He shouted as he reached for my throat to try to strangle me.

We grabbed ahold of each other, and tossed each other around his apartment, making a mess of it as we exchanged blows and dragged each other around the apartment, knocking things over. Hitting and kicking, strangling each other. Until he finally knocked me into his dresser, where I hit the mirror instead of Johns face. Filled with rage I grabbed the small dresser lamp, I yanked its cord out of the wall as I turned, gripping it in both of my hands, and smashed the lamp over Johns head. The metal of the lamp vibrating from the impact with his skull, "No John.. I'm going to kill you." I said hoarsely as he stumbled back, blood slowly dripping down his face as he tried to get his feet steady. 'I am sick of this man..' So I charged at him, and slammed the square metal base of the lamp into Johns cranium.. over and over and over again, until he fell and went limp against his bedroom closet door.

Splattered with blood, filled with adrenaline as I stood over Johns freshly beaten body, I stared at him, only to kick him in the dick. No response-, well at least I know he's dead, right? John could have been so happy, if he just stayed away from you. But he just couldn't help himself, but who can blame him, you're wonderful. You are perfect. And now, I've killed a man, for you, there is no turning back now.

I finally was able to respond to your text, telling you it's okay and to have fun; before I had to get back to my current project: getting rid of John. I spent the next several hours cleaning up any trace of me and all of your things I had brought, and all the blood while John laid in his bathtub, lifeless. Waiting for me to dismember him and dispose of his body.

I've had issues growing up, and often went hunting with my dad, so cleaning up this sort of mess wasn't new for me. But cleaning up this mess; of a person, that was a bit new for me. But I couldn't blink an eye if I wanted to get through this.

That's one thing I had to learn growing up, you just have to stomach it and get through it. But I learned something new about myself, or something about myself had been solidified; confirmed.. during this specific night, and I'm not quite sure I like it.

After cleaning up, I spent well needed time attending John, and his body. "You were wrong John, you were never going to kill me.. Finally alone time, to talk to you John, to have a rational conversation. About how you're going to leave me and my lover alone.. forever. You're going on a nice long trip to Cancun, my friend. In lots and lots of little pieces.."

Stuffing his body into airtight spill free baggies was the hard part, there was just so much of-, John.. Packing him into numerous boxes to ship out was the easy part. Finding his phone and taking the next few weeks off from work was well difficult; his phones password was rather complex. 'John wasn't so simple after all huh, funny how things turn out..' I took his passport, his wallet and phone and put them in their own airtight baggie. I changed into his clothes, put a hat on from his closet, spent an hour driving to another town to get shipping labels and filling out Johns information to look like he shipped himself and well.. the rest is history.

By the time I got home after getting rid of his clothes, it was 9am. And you were safe, and sound asleep, probably at Stacy's house on her couch. Don't worry dear, John will never.. ever.. bother you or us again.

Finally I got to see you again after a nice shower, and help you nurse your hangover when I picked you up and took you to your apartment. We spent the day watching your favorite shows, laughing, we walked your dog, cuddled kissed, talked about your night and had sex.. life was exactly how it should be, how it will be forever. I will do anything and everything to maintain our peace, because..

This is just our beginning..

I love you..

[pandagirl45]

Steve: I only have one stalker, I'm pretty sure he takes my trash...

Johann to a camera: I like the smell...

Camera man:

Steve: I'm with rhodey!

Rhodey in a private interview: I'm pretty sure Johann is plotting my demise... or to sniff our old sheets which... ew

Camera man:

[yours-haven]

YanderexYandere

It’s such a dream to be in a relationship with someone equally as possessive and loving and kind. Like please tell me that you’re all mine as I tell you that there’s no one else who could compare to you. There’s something so sweet about the shared obsession of two. That our love is so strong we are fully enamored in each others simple presence, agh want :c

[darlingvhs]

I LOVE THEM TOO MUCH

EVEN WHEN THEY AREN’T MY LOVER

I WANT TO LOCK THEM UP AND KEEP TEHM TO MYSELF !!!!!!

[sick-yandere-vents]

I wish you were closer so I could actually stalk you in person, I bet it'd be wonderful, I could see you all the time, I could see what you're like when you're not with me, I could see who you talk to, I could protect you from them, I could get rid of them, I could even steal you away for myself!

[zennotixs]

[zhensheng]

‼️BIG TW SELF HARM‼️(if youre dealing with something like this remember there are people who appreciate and love you so please get help and stay safe)

i like projecting emotions on my ocs sm🤭 okay idk why i keep drawing bloody depressive pics with melkyi but im sorry if it triggered you(( i promise next one will be more life-affirming

[sexiersecrets]

Your heart is so admirable sweetheart, but why is it that your so kind to everyone but me? I guess I’ll have to carve it out and save it. Now, i’ll be the only one to have your precious heart…