May 6
Shipping ruins fandoms when the shippers are acting like rabies infested dogs because someone doesnt follow their delusional headcanons.
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Shipping ruins fandoms when the shippers are acting like rabies infested dogs because someone doesnt follow their delusional headcanons.
wrong number, right obsession
pairing: drunk!f!reader x gojo satoru (stranger!au) content warnings: alcohol, cursing, flirty banter, nsfw undertones, loud drunk energy. author’s note: chaotic, bold, messy, and flirty. reader energy inspired by sabrina carpenter's "go go juice". have had this song on loop since the album came out and i couldn't stop thinking about this idea.
you’re three tequila shots deep, screaming at your phone like it’s personally responsible for your heartbreak. your exes are lined up like they’re auditioning for a role in the “why i drink alone” documentary, and tonight, you’re the cruel, drunk director.
so, naturally, you dial.
except.
wrong number.
sett x f!reader headcanons ◟if you love dark romance and messy, obsessive dynamics, buckle up. this is not a safe or healthy love story: it’s dangerous, consuming, and deliciously toxic. dangerously obsessed, toxic, and all-consuming. sett doesn’t just want you, he needs to possess you. the age gap is the least of your problems. jealousy, control, and obsession bleed into every glance, touch, and argument, and you can’t—or don’t want to—resist.
c.w. toxic relationship dynamics • unhealthy obsession / possessiveness • age gap (minor) • jealousy & control • degradation • rough handling / bruising • choking / wrist pinning • overstimulation • emotional manipulation / coercive undertones • punishment / “making up after fights” sex themes • unhealthy dependency & dark romance vibes.
( a collection of too many closets to stay clean prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse.
“People talk about skeletons in the closet. I’ve got a whole graveyard.”
“I didn’t just make mistakes, I built homes out of them.”
“You think I’m complicated? That’s because you’ve only met the version of me that survived.”
“Every time I start over, I swear it’ll be different. And then the old me crawls back out.”
“I carry more funerals inside me than memories.”
“You don’t get to my age without becoming someone you swore you’d never be. Twice.”
“I don’t just have a past—I’ve got entire lifetimes I’d kill to forget.”
“I’ve buried so many versions of myself, I can’t remember which one you’re holding now.”
“Everyone carries a secret. I carry empires that collapsed.”
“You don’t understand—my past isn’t behind me. It’s inside me, clawing to get out.”
“Some people hide their shame. I hide entire lifetimes.”
“You’re falling for me, but you’re not falling for all of me.”
“What’s in my closet? The monsters I used to be.”
“I was a liar in one life, a coward in another. Tell me—would you love me if I became both again?”
“People say redemption is possible. But redemption only works if you’ve sinned once.”
“I’ve been more people than I can count. And none of them were good.”
“My closet doesn’t rattle—it howls.”
“You see a person. I see a thousand versions of me I had to kill just to stand here.”
“I’ve buried more secrets than I’ve ever confessed. And sometimes I think they’re still alive down there.”
“Don’t ask me to tell you the truth. The truth is rot. The truth stinks.”
“You’re asking for my story? Which one—the one I tell, or the one I can’t?”
“I can love you, but I can’t promise you won’t hate me once you know what’s in the dark.”
“There’s not just one truth to tell you. There’s a pile of them, and they’ll crush you if I drop them all at once.”
“I don’t know which version of me you’d hate more.”
“The thing about closets is they don’t stay shut forever.”
“You say everyone deserves forgiveness. But what if I need forgiving twice?”
“I’ve been reborn so many times, I’ve forgotten which version of me committed which sin.”
“If I told you the truth, you’d realize you’re in love with a stranger.”
“You’re not the first person I’ve promised honesty to. And you won’t be the first I’ve lied to.”
“I’ve built entire lives out of secrets. Do you really think you’ll be the one to survive knowing them?”
“You love who I am now, but my closets are full of who I used to be—violent, selfish, desperate. And they don’t stay dead.”
“Every time I start fresh, it feels less like a beginning and more like a cover-up.”
“You want my past? Fine. Which one do you want—the one that ruined me, or the one where I ruined everyone else?”
“Depends which life you want the story from.”
“Do you want to love me, or survive me?”
“If I confess, it won’t be the truth you think you want. It’ll be worse.”
“Everyone has a past… but I’ve got two.”
“Which one do you want me to tell you about—the past where I was the villain, or the past where I was the victim?”
“You think you’ve met me, but you’ve only met the version I keep polished.”
“I’ve been someone else so many times, I don’t remember which self I buried alive.”
“You say you want the truth. Fine. Which one?”
“Every skeleton in my closet has teeth. They bite back.”
“I didn’t reinvent myself. I escaped myself. Twice.”
“The name you know isn’t the first one I destroyed.”
“You’re in love with the mask, not the man. And the mask has cracks.”
“When the closet doors swing open, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I don’t need forgiveness once. I need it twice.”
“What you call my secrets… I call my survival.”
“You wouldn’t recognize me if you met me back then. That’s the point.”
“I didn’t lose my pasts. I locked them away. But locks rust.”
“You’re safer not knowing who I was before I learned how to lie this well.”
rockstar!gojo situationship headcanons
rockstar!gojo is your bad idea you can’t drop. everyone around you knows better—he’s reckless, loud, impossible to pin down. but you can’t stop orbiting him, because he makes every room feel like a stage and every glance like a spotlight.
rockstar!gojo that kisses you backstage and you think those don’t mean anything… until they do. he’ll pull you behind the curtains, still humming from the adrenaline of the show, hands sliding under your shirt like it’s the most natural thing in the world. then he’ll toss you a wink and vanish back into the crowd, leaving you burning.
rockstar!gojo and the criminal way he texts. entire days of silence followed by “u up?” at 3AM. or blurry mirror selfies captioned “thinking of you. or maybe it’s the tequila.” you hate it. you love it.
rockstar!gojo that keeps writing songs that sound like they’re about you. but when you ask, he just grins and says, “relax. it’s not that deep.” Except then he plays the song three nights in a row, locking eyes with you in the crowd.
rockstar!gojo that treats the situationship like a game. teasing you in interviews (“who inspires my lyrics? wouldn’t you like to know?”), showing up at your apartment at 4AM barefoot with a bag of chips, insisting he doesn’t do relationships aaaand then getting jealous when someone else buys you a drink.
rockstar!gojo that never really lets you go. every time you try to cut it off, he reels you back in with one reckless grin, one whispered “you know you’ll miss me too much.” and the worst part? he’s right.
rockstar!gojo's tour life = emotional whiplash. he’ll disappear to europe for weeks, and you convince yourself you’re done. then he’s back in your city, sunglasses at midnight, strutting into your life like he owns it. like he still owns you.
rockstar!gojo that makes you feel like a secret and a muse at the same time. he doesn’t call you his, but the way he holds your wrist when someone else is looking? that’s not casual. not at all.
( a collection of too close for 'just friends' prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse.
They’ve always hugged, but lately those hugs linger just a beat too long.
Sharing a bed during a trip—neither of them sleeps much because they’re too aware of the other’s presence.
Accidentally slipping into couple habits (buying each other food, remembering their exact coffee order, fixing their collar, etc.).
Friends teasing them for acting like a couple… and both of them freezing because it hits a little too close.
One notices the other’s dating profile and feels irrationally territorial.
The line between “friendly banter” and “flirting” has gotten blurry.
A partner/bystander points it out bluntly: “You know they’re in love with you, right?”
A fight about boundaries—because one of them wants more, but is terrified of losing the friendship.
A drunken kiss that neither of them can stop thinking about.
Everyone else assumes they’re together already… and they can’t quite correct them.
“Do you have any idea what it does to me when you look at me like that?”
“You’re supposed to be my safe place, not the reason my chest feels like it’s going to explode.”
“We can’t—God, we can’t cross that line.”
“Say it. Say you don’t feel it too, and I’ll drop it.”
“You don’t get to touch me like that and still call it friendship.”
“Stop smiling at me like I’m yours.”
“If this is just friendship, then why can’t I breathe when you’re this close?”
“You’re going to ruin me, and you don’t even know it.”
“One more second like this, and I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”
“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll believe you.”
“Don’t kiss me like that and pretend it means nothing.”
“We’re not supposed to do this. We’re not supposed to feel this.”
“I’d rather lose my mind than lose you, and right now I think I’m losing both.”
“Do you want me to beg? Is that what this is?”
“If we cross this line, nothing will ever be the same. And God help me, I still want to.”
“If you keep touching me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”
“Friends don’t ache when the other leaves the room. So what does that make us?”
“Tell me to go, and I will. Please—say something before I do something we can’t take back.”
“Don’t call me your best friend when you’re looking at me like I’m more.”
“If this is nothing, then why does it feel like everything?”
“You don’t get it, do you? Every time you smile at me, it feels like a promise.”
“You’re in my head all the time, and it’s killing me. Friends aren’t supposed to feel like this.”
“If we cross this line, you’re not just my friend anymore. You’re my downfall.”
“You’re standing too close.”
“Do you even know what you’re doing to me right now?”
“Stop making me want something I can’t have.”
“I can’t lose you to this, but God, I can’t stop wanting you either.”
“You’re looking at me weird.”
“That wasn’t a… friendly thing to say.”
“Do you always stand this close?”
“Why does it feel different when it’s you?”
“You’re supposed to be my best friend, not the one making my heart race.”
“That… didn’t sound like a joke.”
“Stop holding me like that. Friends don’t hold each other like that.”
“Do you even realize how you’re looking at me right now?”
“Don’t call me yours. You don’t mean it.”
“I can’t breathe when you touch me like that.”
“Say we’re still just friends. Lie to me.”
“We’re not supposed to want this.”
“If this is nothing, then why does it feel like everything?”
“One more second and I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”
“Every time you laugh, I forget we’re not allowed to be more.”
“Tell me you don’t feel it. Please. Tell me I’m imagining this.”
“You can’t just kiss me and act like it means nothing.”
“I’m trying so hard not to want you, and you’re making it impossible.”
“If you keep looking at me like that, I swear I’ll ruin everything.”
“Tell me to go, or I’m not going to.”
“You’re mine. God help me, I don’t care what we call it—you’re mine.”
“I’d rather destroy this friendship than pretend I don’t want you anymore.”
“Do you want me to beg? Because I will.”
“We’ve already crossed the line. The second I realized I loved you, we did.”
“Stop staring at me like that. You’re my best friend.”
“You can’t just… say stuff like that. We’re supposed to be friends.”
“Friends don’t make my heart do backflips when they smile.”
“Why does it feel like I’m cheating when you go on dates?”
“Don’t hold my hand if you don’t mean it.”
“We’ve been friends for years, so why does it suddenly feel different?”
“Don’t kiss me like that if you’re going to pretend it didn’t happen.”
“You’re supposed to be the one I tell about my crush, not be the crush.”
“That’s not a friendly kind of jealousy.”
“If we’re just friends, then why do I feel like you’re mine?”
pairing: jordan li × f!reader, fwb summary: it’s supposed to be casual, but when jordan hears you might be seeing someone else, they stop playing it cool. jealousy boils over in the bedroom; rough, possessive. content warnings: jealousy, possessive behavior, rough sex dynamics, name-calling (“daddy”), thigh grabbing, consensual but intense tone. author’s note: fwb!jordan turned guard-dog jealous. written with consent + messy feelings baked in. take the roughness as possessive kink, not malice pls.
Jinwoo has no filter. If you text him you’re bored, expect a shirtless mirror selfie captioned “wanna come play with your toy?” He gets off on knowing you’re squirming in public, cheeks red, trying to keep cool.
He also sends you clips, not just random ones, but very specific videos. "This one reminded me of last night," he says. It’s always exactly your dynamic, and he knows you’ll be thinking about it all day.
At any party, your lap is his. He’ll sit there in full confidence, hand slipping under your shirt, whispering filth like, “This seat’s mine, like everything else on you.” He’ll press just enough to get you flustered before walking off like nothing happened.
If a movie has even one steamy scene, he’ll smirk and say, “Think we can do it better?” Spoiler: you can, and he insists on proving it. Over and over.
Jinwoo likes to leave evidence: lovebites under your jaw, bruises on your hips, and the kind of soreness that makes you think of him for days. He’ll growl, “Mine,” into your skin every time he finishes.
He has no problem pulling you into his room at a house party, shutting the door and turning the music up. “Just a quick break,” he lies—knowing full well you won’t be walking right for a while.
Even when he’s done with you, he’s not really done. He’ll be helping you clean up, offering water, and then say something like, “You’re lucky I’m not going again right now. Yet.” Spoiler: he probably will.
Steals your underwear like trophies. “Souvenirs,” he calls them. He keeps one in his gym bag. Yes, really. He’s disgusting and proud of it.