#and quite frankly it makes me feel stupid when i fall into something and people are like “yea this is actually well known and documented”

[snapbackslide]

Hello! I saw your post in #online scam about someone by the name of craftpatch1 saying they want to use your work for inspiration. This is a known scam known as the 'muse scam' that I covered on @scam-alerts! Anyone offering you money to use photos or works as 'inspiration' offering you a cheque or asking you for your paypal is 100% trying to scam you. If you'd like to read more about this scam, here's the post: https://www.tumblr.com/scam-alerts/767337113218940928 take care!

thank you, i appreciate it

[ssparksflyy]

what's he got that i don't? 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

pairing percy jackson x fem!reader summary based off this request!! an i actually love this request sm 😋 in jealous percy we trust

PERCY sighed dramatically as he plopped himself down on his bed, scooting up to put his head in your lap. he'd just gotten back from a meeting with chiron about helping out with teaching new campers how to handle swords and was quite frankly, exhausted. he'd spent his whole day running around, going from lesson to lesson, already helping out with all sorts of things. he hadn't seen you since breakfast and desperately needed to feel you close after his hectic day. walking into his cabin to see you sitting in his bed reading made him feel like maybe the gods didn't hate him and they knew how to answer his prayers after all.

"long day?" you asked, moving one of your hands down to his hair and ran your fingers through it while the other continued to hold up your book.

"mhm" he hummed in response.

"what'd you do?" you followed up.

"teach, teach some more, help out, then go teach again" he said, "i didn't even ask to be a teacher."

"you didn't ask for a lot of things, just another thing to add to the list babe. im sure the kids who need help greatly appreciate you and your teaching"

"i guess"

you sat in silence for a minute, continuing to play with percy's hair and read. he would've been fine staying like that and maybe even wouldve ended up falling asleep in your lap, but he had hardly spent any time with you today. he wanted to talk to you more and kiss your lips and hug you, but your nose was stuck in that stupid book he didn't even understand.

"whatcha reading?" he asked and lifted his head up, moving it to rest his chin on your stomach.

"the hunger games" you replied.

he mumbled a quick 'okay' and kept his head on your stomach, looking up at you and watching as you read.

as much as percy loved quiet moments like this, it was the opposite of what he wanted. he knew you enjoyed reading, and now was one of the few opportunities you got to read in peace, but he hadn't seen you in hours and (even though he wouldnt admit it) was in desperate need for your attention. when he saw you smile at something in your book, he decided to try for a conversation again.

"whatcha smilin' at?"

you looked away from your book, "nothin. just this guy."

he got up and furrowed his brow, "what guy?"

"he's not real, percy."

"don't matter, what guy is making my girl smile like that?"

you rolled your eyes, "a guy made of ink and imaginations. that's who."

"lemme see" he said, holding out his hand for you to hand him the book.

you handed him the book and watched as he squinted his eyes, trying to read it.

"i can't read."

"i know."

"what's it say?"

he handed you the book back, ""i don’t think it’s going to work out. winning . . . won’t help in my case," says peeta. "why ever not?" says caesar, mystified. peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "because . . .because . . . she came here with me.""

percy pauses for a second. "you were smiling at that? what does it even mean?"

"see! you dont get it, it's nothing." you said, trying to brush it off.

"mmm i think its something" he said. he already had your attention away from reading your book, now it was just a matter of keeping it up.

"you wanna know? fine." you huffed, "im smiling because i remember when i read this for the first time and i was freaking out because katniss and peeta hardly even talk in this part of the book, and he just reveals that he's got a crush on her, but you don't know that he's actually faking it - but at the same time he's not - because it's set in katniss' perspective, so you're left all 'what was that?! what does he mean!!!' and it becomes something that peeta does again later cause he's smart and knows what cards to play in order for people to like him!!"

he looked at you in surprise, "oh- wow, sorry." he apologized, taking your hands in his, "so is peeta your favorite character?"

you knew you could just give him a simple yes and be over with the whole thing, but if he wanted the truth, then the truth is what he would get.

"yea, he really is. he's just the perfect guy" you said smugly, opening your book back up and pretending to start reading again.

"pfff- yea right! what happened to imaginations and ink?" he said. you could hear the slightest bit of jealousy in his voice and decided to keep going.

"doesnt take away the fact that he's perfect" you said as a mattter-of-factly.

"oh yea? well i think he's a fake nobody."

"fake nobody or not, he's still really smart, strong, an artist, a great baker, handsome in the movies-"

"josh hutcherson is not handsome."

"im gonna act like you didn't just say that." you said, realizing this was going the way you wanted it to, "but gods, did i mention how good of a boyfriend he is? i mean the way he cared for katniss?? hes literally everything a girl could ask fo-"

"hey you know im your boyfriend, not him, right?" percy asked, his tone sounding unsure and annoyed.

you stopped there and put your book down. you didn't think he'd actually be bothered by you talking about a fictional guy. he was never really the jealous type, had he actually taken it seriously?

"perce... are you.. jealous?" you asked in disbelief.

he gave you an offended look that you could tell was fake, "what?! no! course not! why would i be jealous of some fake baker dude??"

you couldnt help but laugh as he continued to try and defend himself from your 'wild' and 'indecorous' 'accusations'.

"i wasnt accusing you of anything! just asking!!" you said through your fit of giggles.

"yea you were! i feel very attacked right now, i though this was supposed to be a safe space!!" you only laughed more.

once you managed to get yourself to stop laughing, you moved closer to percy and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "i was just joking, you know that right?"

he mumbled a quick 'yea' while moving over to your side so he could put his arm around you and pull you into his chest. he left a kiss ontop of your head as you got comfortable in his embrace, putting your book on his nightstand.

percy had gotten his chance to talk to you, and now was able to hold you close, just like he wanted. yes it took listening to you ramble about some other (fake) guy, but who cares!! before finally closing his eyes and falling under hypnos' spell, he only had one more question about the book you were reading.

"by the way, who's finnick odair?"

"OHMYGOD, SO-"

[fairyofsilence]

BEHIND HIS LENSE | 2/7 | TTIB SERIES | PREVIEW

Pairing: Photographer!Taehyung x PersonalAssistant!Reader

Warnings: +18, Yandere, manipulation, drugging, EXPLICIT NONCON; cunnilingus, rough sex, victim blaming, slut shaming, blackmailing, abuse of power, coercion.

Summary: After 4 long years of working for the extravagant photographer Vante, you decide to step down from your job after catching feelings for your boss, which you're sure he will never return.

But he's determined to show you that there's only one person he will consider his muse, and it's you.

I don't agree nor condone any of the actions made by any of the characters throughout the story, I also do not belive that any of the members of BTS would act this way or have this type of behaviour, this story it's fiction and it's written with the sole purpose of entertainment, please proceed with caution.

Word count: 0.8 k.

Just a quick preview of what's coming :)

In three days from now, you’ll be quitting the only job you’ve ever had.

You know you’re extremely lucky to have landed such a sought-after job with absolutely no experience at all, especially when you consider who you’re working for, but you had truly underestimated just how demanding this job was, the number of errands you do in a day will send a normal person into a coma. At first, things started to pile up pretty quickly, and eventually, you learned how to keep on top of things, becoming one of the best at what you do, but recently, there’s something that no matter how hard you tried to push it aside, you can’t seem to shake it off, and if the job was hard before that, this just had officially made it unbearable.

You’re falling in love with your boss.

At first it was nothing but a simple, innocent crush, to be fair, how can anyone blame you? Taehyung is an attractive man, and his charm rapidly made your 20-year-old-self infuriated, although that crush faded quite quickly (thanks to Taehyung’s insufferable attitude the first couple of months), these past couple of months have been messing with your head, quite frankly, you think you’re going insane with the amount of overthinking you’ve been doing, but there’s things you can’t make up, especially since other people have been noticing too.

It all started with a simple comment, your best friend had planted the seed into your brain.

“Wow, since when did you get a raise?” Sohee’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets while she makes grabby hands at your new bag, you hand it out to her, and she touches it like it’s made of glass “How in the hell did you afford a brand-new Flamenco bag? I thought you said you were saving up for a new apartment!” Her tone is so high that you needed a second to digest what she just said, which leaves you more confused than you already are.

“What are you even talking about? If you think I bought this bag than I’ll have to reconsider all these years of friendship” You tried to joke around but Sohee doesn’t seem to be taking this lightly.

“How the hell did you get a 4-thousand-dollars bag then? You didn’t tell me you had a sugar daddy!” You almost faint when hearing the actual price of your new bag, but before she can say anything even more stupid, you quickly try to cover her mouth, but she swats your hand easily.

“Can you stop? I didn’t know it was this expensive!” She raises one of her brows at you and you feel the need to explain yourself “I don’t have a sugar daddy dumbass; Taehyung gave it to me the other day after a photoshoot” Sohee’s mouth opens so wide you have to restrain yourself to not laugh and cause an even bigger scene at the company’s cafeteria.

“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking him or something?” You gave Sohee a nasty look that she couldn’t care less about “I think the nicest thing Namjoon has ever done for me is saying ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’, and he doesn’t even do that often, how the hell did you get your boss to give you a damn designer bag?” Her fixation over a bag is starting to get in your nerves, so you try to explain the situation to her.

“It was during a photoshoot like three days ago, he shot the new Loewe campaign and during a break I said that the color of this bag is very pretty, he asked if I liked the bag and I said yes because it was the biggest one where I could definitely fit everything I needed on it, he just nodded and by the end of the shoot he came to me with the bag on his hand telling me it was for me, I asked him why would he gave it to me and he just said ‘It matches your blouse’, kind of dumb if you ask me” Sohee was truly in a state of shock by the end of you explanation, and you didn’t know what to even say to her about that.

She’s speechless for a few seconds before she looks at you with an accusing stare.

“Wait a second, didn’t you tell me once that he made you send the girls he fucks a designer bag when he’s trying to fuck them?” Her eyebrows are almost reaching her hairline, and you don’t even know how to defend yourself because that was true.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything-” Sohee shuts you up with a single look, and you are forced to face the reality.

“Y/N, wake up, that man wants something from you, and it’s not anything casual if he’s giving you these types of gifts, we’ll let it slide this time” You scoff at her ‘we’ but she ignores you, “But if this keeps happening, you have two options, tell him to back off, or” Her tone was starting to piss you off, and you didn’t know if it was because she was being truly annoying, or because deep down you knew that she was right, “you can get more out of him, not just a designer bag”.

[songbirdseung]

payphone / sim jaeyun

thank you for 1k! where molding back a broken heart starts with you standing at a phonebooth in a foreign country trying to figure out what the hell to do and thinking where it went wrong. pairing stranger!jake x reader genre angst at first but turns into fluff. strangers to friend, possibly lovers

usually you'd feel very claustrophobic being in a tight enclosed space and feel anxious when people look at you regardless of expression but right now you had a different task that was highly more important that your own feelings right now.

you still had two whole months being in this country whose language you don't speak, with people you don't know nor trust but you were desperate to leave behind a memory, a person. because quite frankly being in his own home country didn't help you with trying to move on due to the fact that whenever and wherever you looked, something reminded you of him and that stupid smile you love so much.

it's weird, really. why are you in a phone booth when you can easily use your phone and do much more with it than a telephone attached to a wire in a box? easy answer: your phone died.

so, here you were. in this clear glassed box surrounded by people that are giving you looks as they pass by. since your tear-stained face with never ending tears flow out along with frantic and desperate movement would cause anyone to look.

some people tried to help but gave up when they realized you didn't speak their language but gave you enough reassurance and comfort your ex could ever give.

"damn it!" you shove back the phone into its switch hook as the automated voice came through for the nth time. sighing at the realization you no longer have any loose change to use.

a stupid idea but the only idea you had left was to start softly banging your head on the glass and calling yourself stupid for even making the decision to surprise your long-distance boyfriend.

"you okay in there?" a warm soft voice with a charming aussie accent along with a knock on the glass gets your attention. turning your head to be met with worried brown eyes looking at you. clearing your throat as you wipe your tears away, "uhm..you want an honest answer?"

"that's why i asked" okay, maybe that small chuckle was too much for your just broken heart could take.

"then…no"

"can i open the door or could you get out so i could help you in any way?"

never in a million years would you blindly follow nor interact with a stranger, let alone a stranger that was a guy… but that;-'s just you being anxious and suspicious. although, for some reason, this stranger felt like a warm hug or maybe it's just your emotions going haywire and your actually out of it. either way, you made the decision to step out of the booth and sit in a cafe with this stranger.

hands down, the best decision you made this whole month because know you understand why people say a stranger can understand you way better than anyone else in your life. this man who you are sitting across from right now, he felt like a warm room after being in the cold for hours on end. he just sat there, listened to you and sometimes even offering sweet and comforting words that would reassure you that maybe not everyone and everything is horrible.

if your ex barely gave you the bare minimum, this guy was giving you beyond that. no, you weren't exactly falling for this guy just like that. you've been through too much to do that to yourself. it was just a friendly acknowledgement that this person is a gem and that you can't let it go. there was no need to polish this one, he was already too perfect.

you sat at that cafe for hours, it started off with you crying to a whole stranger to leaving the cafe with a new friend, sim jaeyun… maybe there is a reason to stay in Seoul for the two months you had left.

-

"you're telling me your douchebag of an ex tried to get back together you with?" jake gives you a look that says "you better not have said yes" which makes you laugh and nudge him

"don't look at me like that"

"just tell me you didn't get back with him, woman!" he nudges you back and steals your cup of m&m's "these are mine now, by the way" while popping one in his mouth as he waits for your answer, eyebrow raised with an attitude and all.

"of course I didn't, doofus" trying to snatch back your beloved snack but to no success.

banter and bickering with jake was now your favorite thing. it's been two days since he found you crying in a phone booth, being a lovely, kind and friendly person but now he's teasing you and play fighting with you as if you two have known each other you whole lives.

"no offense but did you really think your long-distance relationship with him would work despite his track record?" he sits down, still holding your chocolate hostage.

"i was young!" trying to defend yourself, rolling your eyes at him as you at down next to him on the picnic blanket.

"it was only a year ago" okay, who is this diva? because he's giving you a deadpan "are you for real?" look. "just admit you're stupid, yn" shaking his head as he continues to eat the candy, looking at the ducks in the river in front of them.

"i'm not stup-"

"you think ducks can eat chocolate?" you see him holding one piece of the m&m's, rolling it with his pointer and thumb. "jake, you'll kill it!" he chuckles and eat the candy "it was just a question"

it makes you scoff and chuckle at him "look who's stupid now?" soon after that question, you feel your upper body meeting the grass next to you along with jake's defensive tone.

you never had a friendship like this. all your girl friends were the loving, caring, soft type of friends who love to sugar coat and beat around the bush when it comes to comforting you, you know the usual. they usually are gentle with you and are soft spoken but with jake? nope. say bye bye to that because the man will literally tell you straight up that you were doing something dumb. but again, for some odd reason, he was more real and comforting than anyone you've known. he can be a pain in the ass and hella competitive when you two play games but overall, he's such a fun guy to be around.

-

"have you dated before, jake?" you watch him put down his ramen and look up at you. there was something in his eyes that held something you couldn't really figure out. maybe a sense of longing?

"no- well, i mean- i've been a few dates set up by my friends in australia but I never actually had a girlfriend, why do you ask?" now paying full attention to you, waiting for where this conversation leads to

"i was just curious because i just can't believe a guy like you doesn't have a girl" you hear him sigh and see him shrug

"it was never really a priority"

"that's it? what about the girls you dated?"

"i don't like blind dates, i prefer to find "the one" naturally, you know?" you nod, telling him you understood and got him mindset on dating and relationships.

the conversation on his love life continued until he whined and whined, asking you to stop and let him finish his lunch. jake wasn't entirely secretive with you, he's actually been very welcoming and open to letting you know him and bringing you into his life. although, like any other person, there were things he like to keep to himself.

-

the next two months were a whirlwind of shared experiences and growing affection. you and jake were practically inseparable, exploring seoul's vibrant streets, from bustling markets to serene temples.

one day, you embarked on a culinary adventure, attempting to make kimchi. what started as a fun activity quickly turned into a chaotic mess. red pepper flakes flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a colorful battlefield. jake, ever the comedian, couldn't resist capturing the moment, teasing you about your culinary skills.

"you call that kimchi? it looks more like a crime scene!" he joked, doubling over with laughter. you playfully swatted him, but couldn't help but join in the fun.

another memorable moment was a karaoke night. initially hesitant, you let jake's encouragement push you out of your comfort zone. as you belted out your favorite tunes, your shyness melted away. you even attempted a duet with jake, a hilarious performance that had the entire karaoke bar roaring with laughter.

late nights often found you on a rooftop, stargazing and sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears. hours would pass as you connected on a deeper level, the city lights twinkling in the background. it was during these quiet moments that you realized how much you valued jake's friendship, his honesty, and his unwavering support.

the quiet hum of the city faded into the background as you and jake settled into a cozy evening. a bowl of popcorn, a soft blanket, and a heartwarming movie filled the screen. the familiar comfort of his presence washed over you as you leaned into his side.

a shared laugh, a knowing glance, a gentle touch—these were the moments that painted your time together in vibrant hues. the simplicity of it all was breathtaking. no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, just the quiet understanding that grew between you.

as the credits rolled, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. you turned to face jake, his eyes soft and contemplative. a warmth spread through you, a realization dawning upon you. the bond you shared was something truly special, a friendship that had blossomed into something more.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. you explored hidden alleys, savored delectable street food, and lost yourselves in the vibrant tapestry of seoul. each day was a new adventure, a fresh memory etched into your hearts.

as your departure date drew near, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. the thought of leaving seoul and saying goodbye to jake filled you with a sense of longing. on your last night, you wandered along the han river, the city lights reflecting on the calm waters.

"i'm going to miss you," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

jake turned to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "i'll miss you too. but hey, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

[jrow]

May Prompts (19)

Day 18 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 20 here.

Weather

They are talking about the bloody weather.

Sure, he is legitimately thrilled to be outside for the first time in days (even if he is stuck in a wheelchair) and it is unseasonably warm. But still, the weather hardly warrants 10 minutes of conversation. He knows that he and Molly are both avoiding having what might be a slightly uncomfortable conversation. It is so very British.

He sighs and looks at Molly, who is still talking about how Toby loves lying in the sun. Enough is enough.

“Molly,” he interrupts, “do you know if I gave Sherlock his birthday gift? Do you know if he opened it?” There is no point in beating around the bush.

Her shoulders tighten a bit but she lets out a sigh. It’s like she’s both relieved and anxious that they are having this conversation. “You definitely gave it to him. I guess you don’t remember but you were … determined when you went over there that night.” She smiles sadly. “It was about time, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t remember getting to Baker Street but … yeah, determined is the right word. I remember feeling that.” He closes his eyes. “Sherlock hasn’t said anything.”

Molly scooches down the bench so she’s closer to him. “He hasn’t opened it,” she stage whispers. She looks around the hospital garden as if making sure no one’s listening. “I popped by Baker Street yesterday—Mrs. Hudson let me in. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! Sherlock borrowed a few files from me last week and I needed them back. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to get them so I just did it myself.” She leans closer. “And your gift was still unwrapped on the coffee table.”

He rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, that answers one question. But why hasn’t he mentioned it at least? Even in his recounting of what happened that night?”

“John,” she says, reaching out and touching his leg. “He’s terrified. And, quite frankly, he has other things on his mind.”

“He feels guilty. It’s obvious.”

“Yes. Incredibly obvious.” She chuckles. “He feels guilty about your fall. You know how he can be. Somehow his silly little brain has decided it’s his fault. I suppose he thinks he should have caught you.”

She makes a good point, but he can’t help but worry it’s something else. “It could be about the gift, though. What if he deduced what’s in the box and feels guilty that he doesn’t want the same.”

She looks to the sky and sighs. “Boys,” she says quietly as if to herself before turning her gaze back towards him. “That’s stupid, John,” she says bluntly.

John leans back, a bit offended. “Come on, you know Sherlock can deduce anything.”

“Not about you!” she says, raising her hands in the air. “You’re his blindspot.” She puts her hands down and takes a deep breath. “And do you really think he’d spend time deducing a birthday gift while you were lying in a hospital bed? I saw him that morning, John. He was a mess. Kept it together on all things Rosie but all in all a mess. He’s not feeling guilty because he thinks he needs to let you down easy.”

John feels slightly chastised but also better. Molly isn’t lying about this. She believes what she’s saying. That’s the best he can hope for.

“Thanks, Molly,” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “For everything.”

“I’m happy to help. I keep offering to do more with Rosie, but Sherlock refuses. At some point I do want to actually see her when she’s awake!”

He laughs. That all sounds about right.

She shrugs. “You know, I’m not sure Sherlock will get it anyways. When he opens the gift, I mean. You are trusting that present to explain quite a lot. Most people would just see it for what it is. A bit extravagant maybe, but that’s it.”

“He’ll take one look and put the pieces together.”

“Blind spot, John. And then you’ll be forced to use your words. Heaven forbid.”

“He’ll know, Molly.” He takes a breath. “I was determined. I am trying to get that determination back. And … I’m not good with words.”

“You two are a pair in that regard.” She shakes her head and then stands up. “Come on, let’s get back.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

Let me know if you want to be added or removed 😊

[danikamariewrites]

Right Where You Left Me

Dorian x reader

A/n: this takes place like halfway through Throne of Glass when shit starts to get really crazy lol. Dorian is another character that deserves the world but the world doesn’t deserve him.

Warnings: Angst

It had been months that you had this weird feeling that Dorian was keeping something from you. You tried to get him to talk about it but he wouldn’t open up to you. You tried to follow him during the day, and at night even but you were never successful.

Today you have finally reached your limit. You knew it had to do with the champions contest for the king. Dorian didn’t want you anywhere near that mess but you didn’t care. There was dangerous and creepy stuff happening all over the castle, people were dying!

If you couldn’t be near it, then you wanted him away from that mess too. You couldn’t bear to lose Dorian for something so stupid, especially if his father was involved.

You stood outside his room, taking a deep breath praying you didn’t cry once you saw him, and knocked. You entered without waiting for a response from your boyfriend.

Dorian was sitting at his desk, pouring over a large ancient book. He looked up as you got closer to him. He noticed you were upset, “y/n, what’s wrong?”

You weren’t going to hold back. You were always honest with each other and that wasn’t going to stop now. “I don’t think I can do this anymore Dorian.” His eyes widened in shock and worry. You could tell he wasn't expecting this. He stands, taking your hands in his.

You close your eyes and gently pull away from him, you don't want to touch him again, not when you knew it would be the last time. “You’re keeping secrets from me, and it’s killing me.” Guilt takes over his face. Like he knew this conversation was coming.

“There’s weird shit going on around here. And that damned contest is the root of the problem. I know you said you didn’t want me around it and that’s fine I don’t want any part of that.” Taking a shuddering breath you continue, “But, I can’t stand by while you put yourself in danger too.”

Dorian stuffs his hands in his pockets, “Chaol is always with me, I’m perfectly safe.” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter if Chaol is with you or not. I have a bad feeling about all of this.” Tears start falling fast. “Dorian, I can’t keep worrying about you. You won’t tell me what’s really going on and quite frankly, I don’t even want to know anymore.” Dorian looks down at his feet, you can feel the guilt coming off him.

“You’re sneaking off, getting into weird situations with Chaol and Lillian, and we’re not even spending time together anymore.” There was finality in your tone. You could tell Dorian knew there was no changing your mind but he had to try.

“I’m sorry y/n. Please, please let me make it up to you. I can’t lose you.” He steps closer to you but just back away, shaking your head.

You wipe at your face trying to stop the tears still falling. “There’s nothing to do. We’re past that. I want to break up, Dorian. I think it’s for the best.” Truly, he knew it was too. Dorian knew deep down there was something bigger than a few strange murders and odd marks on the walls. And whatever was coming he wanted you far away from it.

Even if you didn’t love him anymore he would always love you. If something ever happened to you he would never forgive himself. He nods, “I am truly sorry, for everything. And if this is what’s best…” he couldn’t finish his sentence. It was too painful letting you go. And saying it made it real.

All you could do was nod. You walk towards the door before you break down. If you did break down you knew he would comfort you and that wasn’t fair to either of you.

Before you shut the door you looked at the prince one last time, “Goodbye, Dorian. I’m sorry too.”

As soon as the door shut Dorian began to cry. He would never forgive himself for how things ended between you two.

[dentiststoothfairy]

Slides in *) may I have a chubby reader and them H E A D C A N O N S (blinks with eye lashes*)

Ty 😊

Art I made lmao

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐨'𝐬 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 & 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Bro they don't give a single fuck.

Gonna be honest. They really don't.

If you're vibing with them? They'll vibe with you. Doesn't matter if you're pretty, ugly, larger, smaller, taller, shorter, thick or flat.

Nene thinks you're gorgeous anyways. You know she does because she makes a big deal about not hanging around ugly people.

"Like Pico?"

"Oh my Lord, exactly! Like Pico!"

She takes you shopping and then throws an ABSOLUTE fit if or when they don't carry the CUTEST outfit in your size.

That has to be some sort of CRIME.

Darnell is probably the most apathetic about it. He knows what it's like to be treated differently for something you can't change. And personally, he'd rather someone not make a large deal out of it... So he doesn't make a big deal out of you either.

Although, when someone has the audacity to like.. Comment on it? He calls them tf out. He makes a big deal then. He gets absolute pleasure of making assholes squirm with uncomfortable tension after being pointed out.

He's got your back. Honestly? He is probably the most reliable out of the group. He shuts Nene up real fast when she says something insensitive by the slip of the tongue.

Pico? God don't let anyone make one comment around you two.

He DON'T let that shit slide.

He's probably fallen asleep on you after a long day. He hasn't got any shame that one, I'm not gonna lie. You're way more comfortable to lean on than Darnell or Nene.

Nene mocks him and tells him that he better not collapse into your chest the way he collapsed into hers that one time. He still fucking hates that. It's embarrassing. He WOULD RATHER DIE.

"I'm back!"

"Oh, welcome home." You answered cointly. Your chest heavy with burden as you pulled your nervous eyes away from your reflection, subconsciously pulling down at your pants as you did so to hide the shame.

Your blue haired lover gave an energetic laugh as he moved lightly on the soles of his feet, bouncing to the couch as he took his hat out to fan himself. His stupid smile always brought comfort, you fought a smile yourself.

"Busy day?" You hummed, his eyes was still twinkling from energy from being outside. He nodded as his mouth opened to talk more.

"Oh hell yeah. Another rap battle, it was absolutely fire. You should've heard me!"

Ah.. You... Hadn't been willing to leave the apartment for a while... Embarrassment of like... Existing. But, that meant you missed out on so many fun things with your quite frankly, extroverted boyfriend.

His rising and falling chest and heart beating in sync, you could feel his internal music constantly bumping as he climbed onto you while you sat down, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck as you quickly grabbed his hand. You knew what he was trying to do, trying to run his fingers through your tight curls and you knew it would only end badly.

"I bet... You would've sounded great." You gave a bitter smile, glancing down subtly at your legs as your hand clutched his hand tighter. Your lover, usually pretty clueless, seemed to pick up on the cues.

".. Is something wrong, babe?" He asked, his tone shifted slightly as he looked up at you, his excitement washed away like a wave swallowing a crab into the large ocean.

Now look what you've done...

"No, no. I'm fine! I was just thinking about what we were going to have for dinner tonight. Maybe something with low fat?" You offered, throwing the option into the air hoping that the usual air head wouldn't catch on.

Unlucky for you, he did.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Is this about your legs again?" He let go of you, as he sat up. The silence hung in the air like a string hung off a cork board. You never liked lying to him but, how else could you improve the situation..?

He gave a sigh, laying his head on your shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, trying to pull you as closely as he could to you. "... You know I think you're stunning, I don't.. Understand how you can't see that." He muttered.

"Because-.." Your voice caught onto the tissue in your throat as if a hook was dragging across it. You couldn't untangle the line that was suffocating you. Both metaphorical, and the verbal line you were about to say.

And, god bless... Your boyfriend as if a miracle worker, knew exactly what to do. He pulled you in, connecting your lips quickly.

"You're adorable. There's nothing cuter than you." He mumbled, giving you a crooked smile. "The fact you think other wise is insulting. You're like.. The fuckin' cutest thing ever. Like, you're so soft. And I know people who say that come off as if they're reaching for compliments but honestly? I wouldn't change you for the way you are." He shrugged.

Your eyes scavenged his for any sort of lie. That he was trying to make you feel better with absolutely no true empathy behind his words. But you came up empty handed.

"Like, do you know how hard it is for me to like.. Not show you off? I just wanna walk down the street and go 'look suckers! This is my mutha' fuckin' partner! You can't even imagine landing someone so hot!'" He raised his voice, cupping his mouth to make himself even louder. You gave a nervous laugh.

"Please don't do that..." Please, don't.

He gave a cheeky wink to you, sticking his cheek out as he did. "I said it's hard for me not to do, not that I would. I know how you get with attention, baby and I'm gonna do my best to make sure you're content in your own skin because I love you." He brought your knuckle to his lips, giving you a kiss and feigning a knight.

"Whether you're black, white, fuckin'... Green or thin."

Green?

You couldn't help but laugh at that. Taking your dumb ass boyfriend by the jaw and kissing him once again.

"You're so stupid."

"I know." He hummed back, content. "Now what's for dinner for real? I'm starving."

[lollytea]

Up until a month back I liked a guy. And I really liked him. But I found out he didn't like me back. I was really upset, but I didn't want to hold it against him, but then I found out he had a reputation of being a player (which, at our age of 14 is flirtatiously texting girls and then just. Ghosting them).

And I felt really upset. I began to question if he even saw me as a friend, and whether the way he texted me was even friendly. What if he secretly loathed me and was just doing this to get a kick out of it? What if he knew about my feelings and they were just a joke to him?

I wanted to cry, but I told my friends and my sister I was okay. But I wanted to scream. Its not my fault I was born ugly. It's not my fault my face makes me unlovable. And even though I wanted to distance myself from him I felt some sort of perverse pleasure every time he did something embarrassing in front of every one.) And that's when I think it hit me.

That's why I'm unlovable. I am unlovable because I'm a terrible person. My friends tried to comfort me saying that he's a shitty person who can't see my beauty/cuteness, but friends are obligated to say that. I wanted to believe them because they're all so beautiful, and they would never lie to me because they love me. But they deserve a better friend than me.

I want to cry because I want to experience having a whirlwind romance, and falling in love. I also know I'll probably never have that.

And AGH I feel so upset. Because all my life I've known I was ugly. But when this guy showed me attention, was nice to me, it made me feel special. Made me feel like I was having my own romance.

I hate it I hate it I hate it. I hate that I can't be loved, I hate my face, I hate myself for feeling these things. Last year when I suspected I began liking him, I told myself not to fall too deep, and here I am, ranting to you on tumblr dot com.

Lollytea, I love your writing and I love your posts. I love how confident you are of yourself. I'm very sorry for ranting in your inbox about my shitty love life, if this makes you uncomfortable, please delete it. But if you don't, I genuinely would like some encouragement. That my time for my own romance will come. That I will learn to love this face.

You're not unlovable. You're just 14. It just happens that being 14 feels a lot like being chronically unlovable. But no, that is not actually the case.

Maybe you've heard this a lot. And I imagine that it must be frustrating to listen to. That being a teenager just means your emotions are bigger and more intense than they will ever be in your entire life, so they're irrational and silly.

That's not the case either. Your feelings matter. And they're worth being listened to. But I do need you to keep in mind that the age range you're in right now is one of the most difficult periods of time that a human being will ever go through. Being a teenager is very hard. Being an adult is hard too. But me and every adult I've ever met would not trade it for being 14 again. No way in hell.

It does severely influence how you see yourself and why your emotions feel so strong and messy and all over the place. But I assure you that you're doing a fantastic job for a person in your situation. It's rough and you're getting through it and I'm proud of you.

Firstly, I'm going to say this quite bluntly but dont take it as me insulting them. Most of the boys in your class probably aren't that smart. And they are the absolute worst people to be seeking validation from. I promise that their opinion of you is not worth worrying about because they are...stupid, frankly. They won't be stupid forever. Probably. But being 14 is a weird age for boys too and they're quite mean for a while before they mature and chill tf out. Please try not to let it get to you if one of them doesn't like you romantically. I promise you it is not remotely a big deal. None of them have any idea how to be good boyfriends yet anyway.

No, you're not unlovable for occasionally having spiteful little thoughts about somebody who was mean to you. Everybody has those every once in a while. As long as you maintain some self-awareness and don't let cruelty consume your whole brain, having a few mean thoughts doesn't make you a terrible person. What WOULD make you a terrible person is external terrible behaviour. It's your actions that matter. So just be kind, alright? Be kind to your friends. Ignore the people you don't like but be civil. Don't hurt anyone. If you stick to all of this, you're golden. Considering that you already seem so self-critical of being a bit bitchy inside your own head, I think that's a promising sign than you won't do anything worse than that. I hope so anyway. Be kind, that's all you can do. Your friends love you. If you put your all into loving them in return, then you can have something so special.

You're not ugly, you're 14. Sorry, I'm getting a bit repetitive but I think it's relevant information to this whole situation. At the age you're at, your face is probably in this weird transitional period between child and adult so maybe that's why it might look "uglier" than usual to you. It might last a few more years but it won't look like that forever. I assure you that your face is beautiful because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do. It's alright if you've felt ugly your whole life. The way you look at your own face is way more personal than the way you look at other people's faces. We don't really notice the flaws on others the way we notice our own. We're wired weird like that.

All I can say is hang tight. If you don't like your face then please try not to let it upset you that much. Your face hasn't fully developed yet. For the time being, you look exactly the way you're supposed to look and you're perfect. Let's see how it looks in a few years before we make any rash decisions about it being as ugly as you think it is.

Don't be hasty in the belief that you'll never find love and romance. I assure you that the age you're at is the absolute worst time to get a boyfriend and its perfectly okay if you don't experience it for another while. It's normal. You're fine. It's okay.

I know you want it. I know it sounds nice. And I promise that if its important to you, once you're older and the people you're interested in are a little smarter, you will have it.

I'm serious when I say that for the time being, focus on being a good friend. Focus on school. Focus on your own physical and mental health. Focus on your hobbies. Being wanted by 14 year old boys won't mean shit in the long run.

Things will be okay. You talk so much about how you'll be alone for the rest of your life. But your life has only just begun and you hardly know who you are yet. It's impossible to tell what will happen in the coming years. I promise that you'll be okay.

I know you came for me for reassurance but from that last paragraphs, I'm sure you're already smart enough to know the things I've told you. But I imagine that you just needed a second opinion. Take care, love.

[passcode58]

Not Requested |

Pure Fluff |

High school Gojo Satoru x Reader 

Warnings | spoilers, death, suicide. (Bery brief)

You were always fond of purple skies because they were beautiful and serene. But now those demons took on a new meaning of their own. Purple skies now adorned the mask of sorrow and pain, as you saw the clouds reflecting in his pretty brown eyes, now dull and hollow. "I don't give a fuck bout what you did. I don't give a shit about Manami— about who she is, or who they are. I still fucking love you." It was too much, you felt sad, hurt, angry, jealous. Who the hell was that woman and why was she with him!? For how long, for all these years?? You would go after her personally if you had to, you wondered if she did his hair for him, if she helped him.sleep at night when he couldn't bear the weight of the world anymore…it was sickening. You could feel your body grow weak with the upcoming sweep of sorrow and resentment., and you couldn't keep your composure anymore as tears slid down your face and your heart took a rhythm you couldn't keep up with.

"(Y/n)…don't."

"No Suguru, you don't. You broke my heart…you ruined my life! You just fucking left, dammit— Suguru, you…you murdered all those people in cold blood but I don't care just please don't do this— You dying is something I just cannot forgive. You said you're the strongest, then get the fuck up. We can hide you away, I can take you away from here you, I can  you! You can live just don't fucking do this please —

It all falls silent when his meet yours, and you taste blood in his saliva. And he mutters, softly, in that voice you longed to hear for all those broken and god-forsaken years. "Even after this time you still call me…in that sweet pretty voice. Delicate like a flower's petal…and I hate that I yearn to hear it more, because I'm selfish. At least let me feel hated for my actions…"

"No, I could never hate you. You're my first love. There's no man, and I mean no man on this earth, no action committed, no creature, no hell, that could make me hate you. You…I—,"

"I did everything because I love you, (Y/n). Make no mistake. I did this…because I'm stupid, but not stupid enough to love any other than you."

"But I don't care, Suguru. I just want you, I want you to live, and come home with me— with us. We need you Suguru, I…I swear to God I'll kill myself if you die here." it was desperate, his blood soaked your clothes, crimson red, like a black widow's back. And the sorrow bites into you, poisoning you and paralyzing you with fear as you struggle to come to terms with the truth. This man, this dying man was your high school lover. Your first love, your everything…and here he is, once noble, a bloodied and bruised up criminal with a target on his head. The pretty head you loved to kiss. 

"You won't, because he wouldn't let you." And you fall limply into his arms when you hear more footsteps approaching, and you desperate as the cold wind hits your skin, eyes glossy with tears, shirt wet with ruby red blood. "Toru, please help me." but the white-haired male doesn't respond. He's devoid of emotion and you don't know why but that breaks you even more, because here he is, the strongest, but you can see, his feet tremble and his lips quiver. Other than you, Geto Suguru is the only man who could bring Gojo shambles like this. To break past his barrier of infinity and year through his golden heart. To let all love bleed like blood on the streets. 

"You're late Satoru.

And you swore to God that Geto wasn't the only person who died that day.

…

Quite frankly, Gojo refused to go on certain missions alone because he wanted you close to him. It's times like this, when you lay together in the same bed where you fall apart, and he does what he does best and fucks you senseless. "I know you'll never love me the way you loved him." He's still in you, his head resting on the space between your shoulder and your neck, as he presses gentle kisses on this particularly rough day.

"That isn't true."

"He was your first love, I know this because I could never love someone the way I love you." It's funny that you liked  to wash the pain away and drown it in pleasure instead, but you were crying. Not tears of joy or euphoria, just broken, old, sad, sappy tears. "Satoru I—"

"He was my one and only, and I can't even imagine what he meant to you. I swear on my life, I feel sick for doing this, for sleeping with you knowing I could never…that I can't— that I can't be him for you, or replace him. I feel sick, because I feel like I'm not enough for you. I let your lover die…because I was too oblivious and didn't reach out to him even when you did." His words are sick, and you could feel the tears "You always did while I joked it off instead, or brushed it off, I never looked deeper because I never believed I had to…but (Y/n) I want to do it right this time. You're all I have left, so I want to do this right. I don't want to fuck you when you're sad, I want to make love to you, I want to be there for you with each breath you take, to eipe your tears of pain, and being those of joy. I…I want to be yours, and not just as the strongest, or as Gojo, but as satoru Gojo, your best friend. 

Your breath is taken from you when he raises his head to look you in the eye, and he's so broken, but beautifully so. Like a swan, a pretty swan who lost their lover. You don't want Satoru to be broken, because you love him— not as much as Suguru, you worshiped the very ground Suguru walked on, but you loved him nevertheless.

"Satoru, nothing and no one can compare to your beauty and brilliance—" you gasped, when he pulled you in for a rough, desperate kiss, words lost on his tongue.

"We're both beautifully broken—"

"But we both know we can't fix each other, because we're fucked up, we're messy, we care too much, and that's why we're hurt. We care too much for this world, but we can't escape, you're the strongest—"

"We are the strongest, and that's why we are fucked up. The day I was born, the balance of the universe was tipped, and I dragged you— you of all fucking people into this shit, into my shit."

"And I don't care. If I die as a sorcerer, it's in your arms, by your side, fighting for you or by your own hands."

[ijwrff]

Can you do a poly Robbie X Reader X Anti? ( Asking for another one of us)

Of course! I hadn't thought about a poly relationship with those two...but honestly I can see it. It's goals. Just straight up goals. And I hope you, and anyone else you're asking for enjoys it thoroughly :) thank you so much for asking me, and for the one who wanted to ask it of me! I appreciate it so much <3

@serenitydusk @thattiredanimator1t0mblr @viciouslyyearning

Word Count: 1,097

Things were much more simple back then. You had feelings for Robbie, yes. But you didn’t know if he felt the same, he wasn’t exactly the best with words. He’s adorable, in every sense of the word! How could you not fall for him? His eyes were enrapturing, and his hair was always so soft. He was always so kind to you, and even made you laugh! But now…now things are different. It made you question a lot of things about yourself. 

You met Anti. He seemed intimidating, and quite frankly rude. You didn’t like him at first, not one bit. He yelled at you, made you feel stupid…and as much as you liked Robbie, you didn’t wanna visit too much after that. But you couldn’t say no to those eyes. It had you go back time and time again, and you started to see a different side to Anti. A softer one, just a man who made random and bad jokes, and would start a fight if someone didn’t laugh at them. He stopped yelling at you, and even let you hug him, which is something you didn’t think would happen. 

Now you were visiting, and only Anti and Robbie were home. You weren’t doing much, just watching tv. A stereotypical relationship was playing, the girl and guy were madly in love with each other at first sight, it was only making your head hurt. You thought that was what it was like to gain feelings for Robbie. But now you were left to question if you liked Robbie, or Anti. They were opposites in many ways, but among the people that lived here, they seemed closest. Maybe their opposite personalities blended well together. 

You of course were sitting on the couch between them. Barely paying attention to the screen, you subtly glanced between Anti’s hand and Robbie’s. It went on for a while, and you didn’t want to lead one of them on only to get with the other one! You hadn’t seen them get jealous over you, but you didn’t want to put a wedge between them if you chose one or the other. They were pretty close, and you didn't want to break up their friendship for your own feelings getting in the way. 

They shared a glance over your head, and both grabbed your hands at the same time. You jumped and looked back and forth between them. Neither looked at you, was it a mistake? You jumped up and tried to ignore the slight blush on your face as you looked between them. Robbie looked confused, and Anti looked cocky. 

“What?” Anti said, his smirk on his face. He waited half a second for you to speak and when you didn’t, “Just holding your hands is all.” He stretched, and stood up, pushing your shoulders lightly to try and get you back on the couch but you fought against it slightly. 

“N-No! That’s not all!” Robbie noticed how distressed you were in those words and he stood up too. Now they were both back to being on either side of you. They gave you a second, and you tried to get your words together. “I…It’s not fair. I don’t want to make either of you feel led on. I just…I don’t know who to choose. I’ve liked you both for so long, I don’t want to hurt your relationship by picking.” You closed your eyes, not wanting to see their faces right now. 

“Oh. That’s all?” Anti said, deadpan. It made you open your eyes in surprise, as you looked to see him. “We know. We already talked about it.” He went from having a hand on your shoulder to an arm around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “Choosing is dumb. No point in it really.” 

“W-what do you mean?” Were they teasing you? Maybe even saying neither would take you? “If you’re playing some sort of game, it’s not funny!” You refused to cry right now, but your feelings you hadn’t yet said were soon to slip out. Knowing that this could turn bad, you were terrified. You couldn’t face a rejection from one, let alone both! Still…hope tries to make its way into your brain. 

 “No game!” Robbie said, cuddling close to your side in a tight embrace. “We…like you.” His words were a bit slurred, but the meaning was strong. “Don’t choose…” From his nearly crouched down position, he looked up at you with those adoring eyes of his. He was looking at you with a mixture of anxiety and that same thing that budded in your chest…hope. 

“D-Don’t choose?” You were trying to keep any excitement you had out of your voice just in case it was some elaborate prank. “How can I-” The words were cut off by Anti, which did happen quite a lot. Very regularly he’d take charge of the situation. Even when it wasn’t asked for, but this time you didn’t mind he did so, in fear of looking like the fool in this situation. 

“Yeah. Easy. Just date both of us.” Blunt and right to the point, Anti swung around to be directly in front of you with both hands on your shoulders. He was taller than Robbie, so it was easy to look at you from over Robbie’s head where he was bent down. It wasn’t as confident or as cocky as it was often, but instead serious and calculating. “I mean really, why choose? We both like you, you like us, and we’re okay with it.” 

“I…” Hesitation turned to determination. “Yeah! I’d…I’d like that.” And the tears fell that you were holding in. “I’d LOVE that!” And you laughed, making their worried faces turn into that of joy. They laughed when you did, and both pulled you close…or in Robbie’s case, closer. If it was even possible. 

You were inseparable before, but now after the confessions? Even more so. Dates, games, shows, walks, anything was perfect with the three of you. There may be fights, but all of you (even Anti) worked hard to resolve them. Robbie wasn’t much to fight, but in any relationship there’s always going to be disagreements. However, with how happy you made your two boyfriends feel, they made you feel just as happy if not more. Arguments are few and far between, and you couldn’t imagine your life without them. 

“I love you”s were often, once you had all reached that point. And just hearing those three words, from any part of your relationship ended up making you all even stronger…together. 

[meatriarchived]

thinking very big on maria's aliases at the moment so,

dolores.

maria's more subdued, soft, docile persona. one of her primary lures. dolores acts as a way to entice targets who are looking for someone they think is easy to control or influence. submissive and eager to go along with whatever they want really, dolores as a persona is maria's way of gauging and pulling very strong, very cocky, very frankly stupid victims into going someplace secluded with her - and into the hunting grounds of her two scary guard dogs to have fun with. she's the persona, alongside aurelia, that brings victims into back alleys, back to a designated place on the sawyer-hewitt property, to decoy houses / buildings, or to specific fields or stops where its been established earlier in the night with johnny ( & lee ) that she will get them to, for them to meet there. dolores is that sweet, softer, doe-eyed side of maria really being coaxed out in order to quite literally throw someone to the wolves. dolores is symbolized by lambs / sheep, also to come across in a softer light to those who interact with her and fall victim, for other unassuming creature to take you by the hand, frolicking out into open field, unknowingly being circled by predators hidden in the grass around them. nickname : dolly.

aurelia.

more of a push into maria's more bubbly self, aurelia's more of that out-there, perky, sunshine-incarnate type persona that draws people attention. she's all smiles, all touchy, PDA at max. she's also that more kinda ditzy personality, too, if she feels her target likes it. she'll play heavily into the 'oh please keep talking i am SO interested in what youre saying!! omg no really you do all that??? wow you're so strong / so smart / etc' type of person, showering with compliments. definitely more of the persona for those kinds of people who LOVE talking about themselves and making themselves seem more important / tougher / etc than they really are. aurelia works as another lure because she's the type that'll convince targets to drink and drink and drink, or pull them off to dance with her, let them get handsy, let them think they have a shot. aurelia is symbolized by rabbits / bunnies, cute and sweet little prey animal, unassuming. one that lets you give chase, until you find yourself inches from wolves' widened jaws. nickname : lia.

rosa.

not as much of a lure than more utilized when maria's working alone, but rosa works to get targets alone and vulnerable. she's flirty, handsy, siren eyed rather than doe. truly come fuck me eyes. its the persona to let her explore things on a more sexual note, but its also the one where after things are said and done and theres a body on the floor, she wants to reaffirm her devotion to the scary dog(s) more - like a very, get this fuckers' scent off of me right now and put yours all over me instead kinda thing, if you will. but its also very much, i get to toy around with them a little more, be teasing, be mean. very hey heres your body let me snap a picture with you gh.ostface style ♡ its more of her violent side that comes out, because its really one of the personas where she gets to really disarm people - from being flirtatious to im stabbing you to im sinking my teeth in your neck and ripping at you rather than it being a simple love bite. still uses rosa, though regardless if working alone or with the scary dog(s). rosa's symbolized by both butterflies & moths, metamorphosis from maria into territory she was never all that comfortable in before. its exploration of a different side - both sexual and violent. its the specific kinds, of mourning cloak butterfly, of death's-head hawkmoths, of black witch moths, with meanings of change, of rebirths, and of death or misfortune. nickname : typical pet names one gives a one-night-stand.

magdalena.

in a sense, magdalena's come to be a persona by several factors, and its more of her long game, lone wolf type. its a combination of something in her snapping from her reunion with donnie ( being told 'i love you' when you were left for dead, buried and otherwise forgotten about is mm, esp when compared to the love that had been shown in the years since. ) and its more of maria taking influence from not only johnny by also nancy, in routes where she ( & lee ) are accepted by her into the family. its getting a lil more personal with her targets, earning their trust over a longer timeframe. befriending them even. its more of her wolf coming out - where one one side, magdalena comes across as a typical neighbor, someone who bakes you things and brings it over unprompted ( sometimes we get silly and slow-poison them c: ) esp during rough times - similar to how nancy works. its the slowburn of growing closer to them, earning trust, being let into their lives, just to one day down the line rip that security out from under them, turn their homes into a bloodbath really. magdalena's more of that, mercy doesnt exist in this body, morality doesnt exist, theres an anger and a hatred and a coldness to the world thats been dormant in these bones like the old gods who sleep for millennia hidden among us like mountain ranges. while physically maria isn't nearly on the same levels as johnny or leland, i'd argue magdalena's by far her more brutal and unhinged persona in that she'll not only make an absolute mess out of her target, but will also prolong things at times - make it last hours, if she can manage, if they stay alive long enough. magdalena is also moreso in swing post-acceptance by nancy, meaning the likelihood that she's been taught how to use the same types of ability, the possession, the hallucinations, is very high. magdalena's symbolized by wolf peering out from under sheepskin. nicknames : lena.

[bronze-bell]

Even as Frederick watched over Victor and Aesop from a distance, he couldn't help but smile, knowing they were comfortable, knowing they were warm and safe and that they had somewhere they could go if they needed to.

Both of the others were quite visibly asleep, and the sky was growing dark, anyway. Maybe it would be best to have them over for the night. Maybe they'll stay until morning, maybe they won't, but he was happy they chose him to lean on anyway.

Untying long, white hair and letting it fall, he stared into the bathroom mirror as he contemplated just what he'd learned, what he'd entrusted to Victor and Aesop, what he hoped the two wouldn't have to learn. Before he finally retired to bed, he placed his hands ever so gently on the heads of the two men who were currently asleep within his room, another peace offering, another wish for them to be happy, for him to be enough for them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In another room entirely, meanwhile, a man is standing in front of a blank canvas balanced on an easel, hand and brush frozen. Frustration mounts as he examines the paints on his palette, glaring as he mixes selections despite not being sure if any are going to work, until a breaking point strikes, and he slides the palette knife along the canvas, marbled, partially mixed oils creating a ground for whatever may come next.

...Oh god, that actually sort of looks good. Oh, he can use this.

Painting tools clatter to the ground beneath him as he remembers something he told himself he was going to do. After all, this paint needs a long time to dry. Pen in hand, hurried script, breaths heaving and eyes much too wide, he set to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(The paper appears to be notably expensive, a deep crimson border ornamenting the words, as does the envelope. The wax seal is red, bearing only the initials "E.V." on its stamp. As for the writing on the letter, the handwriting is frantic, shaky, stressed.)

Good day.

I could not tell you when I'm writing this letter, with the hours blurring together, only that it's by lanternlight. I could not tell you why I'm sending it to you of all people. Only that I believe you will not tell others of what's inside. Do not prove me wrong.

I was told by the composer—Frederick, I believe—that it didn't matter who I played to. That they didn't care for me anyway and I should paint for myself. I don't know what that means anymore. How should I know what "I" want? I know people don't want me. I know they won't listen, or bother with anything that isn't packaged as the right misconception of art. But if I don't pander, I can't survive. Even if I know what art and its meaning should be, why can't I create something that lives up to that? How haven't I been able to since... god, I don't know when? If I don't have to get things right, then what does any of my work mean?

I started a new painting today. I froze in front of the canvas for so long, I tried something undeniably stupid. And it worked. I can see all too many things in just what I've put on the canvas, I can see all sorts of ways I can show things that live outside of a single moment in time, things that feel like they move and glow and flicker and burn. The world is too large to show everything, but I can select my subjects and what I focus on within them to make a point. Beauty, pain, fear, time moving forward, meaning lives around us.

The paintings have gotten louder since then. I used to be able to hide from their screeching and hissing in my room. What happened?

I don't care if you respond. It's probably better if you don't even read this, frankly. After all, these are my words you're reading. If you chose to do so anyway, I will tell you one thing. If anyone asks, I'm fine.

Edgar Valden

They stayed in that sanctuary until morning, Victor waking up to warmth and safety and love for the first time since he was a child. Unfortunately for Victor and his loneliness, not doing his job for a few days was starting to get to him, and so he eventually decided it'd be best to leave and continue his duties somewhere.

If there were a few tears shed upon leaving, and if he held Aesop's hand until he heard the sounds of people and knew he had to let go, well... Nobody had to know that.

As part of Victor's work routine, he'll check his room for letters in case any had been posted directly to him. There usually weren't, as there was no reason to send him much, but with the last few days in mind it was less of a hopeful dream and more of a very real possibility.

Rounding the corner, bell around his neck ringing out to signal he was here and prepped for delivery, he is startled by a door swinging open behind him as he walked, causing him to stumble back in a flustered panic as it nearly knocks him over with the force.

There's a letter thrown hastily in his direction before the door swings shut again, almost like whoever's inside is in a rush, or a frenzy of some kind. Victor sighs, inspecting the letter to make sure nothing is majorly damaged.

If the wax seal or paint stained corners weren't enough, the plaque on the door that nearly toppled him over like a bowling pin was unmistakeable proof of the sender. He really did worry about that painter sometimes, even if he rarely got close...

He turns the letter over to find where it's supposed to go, but is met with a blank side. That's fine, he's more than used to this conundrum. Slipping into his room and locking the door behind him to ensure safety, he works on prying the wax seal off with a practiced ease to reveal the contents.

It comes as quite the surprise when it's addressed directly to him.

-----

The letter that is poked gingerly through the mailbox has watercolor at the edges, pretty red creating a border on both the envelope and the paper inside. The ink, too, is red, along with the wax seal bearing an envelope. Clearly Victor was going for a theme.

The handwriting is crisp and neat, just like the tone of the letter itself, in stark contrast to what it's replying to.

[Dear Mr. Valden,

Good day to you too! As of writing and sending, it is about 10 am. I am sorry for not being available earlier, I was pulled away from my duties temporarily.] Honestly, he hoped he would be pulled away tonight as well. Maybe he should wait by the mailbox in the middle of the manor and see if either Frederick or Aesop show up... That's for after this conversation, though.

[I promise I will not tell anyone of what I have read. I have locked your letter away as well, in case anyone else should try to read it somehow. It is safe with me.

I wish I could help you, although all I can be is a listening ear, as I have not experienced anything like that myself.] A complete lie, but he doesn't want to tell Edgar that. He shouldn't get close to someone like Edgar, because Edgar doesn't seem like the type to get close to people. It'll just end in him being thrown away, surely.

[I'm sure saying I cared for you would be hollow and worthless, since we've barely interacted and you do not enjoy my presence, but I will say here that I do, at least, worry about you, especially after reading the things in your letter. Please try to take care of yourself if you can, okay?

I do not know the first thing about art, as you've definitely gathered, but from what I can tell of your words you seem to be... Happier? If that is truly the case, and I am not mistaken, I am glad you seem to be enjoying it.] Victor shudders as he deciphers the words scratched through. It's not at all safe to say he's read them, so he decides to pretend he hasn't, and just end the letter here.

[Have a good time with your painting! I am glad you are fine.

Regards,

Postman.]

Frederick is behind this? Surely something must have happened between them, but for lack of a better word, Edgar takes things... pessimistically. He should ask Frederick in some capacity, although keeping the key information out as to not break the promise.

Victor can only hope his oblivious act will bring more answers than questions.

[mangodestroyer]

Is it just me, or does life get easier when you stop caring so much?

I used to be someone who wore my heart on my sleeve, fretted over problems I clearly had no ability to fix, OTHER PEOPLE'S PROBLEMS, fall for manipulative guilt trips, try to see things from other people's point of view and assume the best intentions.

Now I'm much more guarded. I don't assume that everyone has innocent intentions and are just hurt and misunderstood or whatever. I think a lot more about how they made ME feel, and if they upset me, I think it's a good judge of character to see how they respond to that. I don't tolerate being gaslit or having my feelings diminished anymore. I used to think a lot more about why they did that and less about my own feelings. Nope! Not gonna happen anymore.

When people present impossible problems to me, or try to guilt trip me into doing something I really don't want to do, I kind of just start acting all disinterested instead of making it my problem like I used to. Like, a couple days ago, one of my older co-worker was complaining about how trashed our store always looks and how, back in her day, stores didn't used to look like that. Like, okay. You gonna get the CEO to stop being cheap and give us more hours, higher wages, and more employees? Or are you just going to complain to the retail associate who has no control over this outside of giving it their best shot? Cause quite frankly, $12.50 an hour isn't worth all that stress.

So for one, I feel a lot less stressed now. I've also noticed that, overall, I tend to get treated better by customers when I have that no bs, I-don't-really-give-a-fuck attitude. I mean, good lord! The way customers used to treat me was beyond humiliating! Back when I tried to do everything to provide good customer service, I'd get some very nasty interactions, and even had one customer come up to my boss and talk about what a moron I was and how I didn't deserve to be employed. That the only reason I was is because people keep voting liberal. Whatever the Hell that meant. And yeah, no one came to my defense, ofc. They all kind of acted like they agreed with him. See what putting in your best effort does? Yeah, for whatever reason stuff like that just stopped happening when I started giving less of a shit. I'm not saying it's impossible for it to ever happen again, but with how frequently it used to happen... and with how I'd never see this happen with my co-workers... it was a little strange. Now I only seem to have issues with my co-workers these days. Maybe that's cause they saw what a pushover I used to be and think they can still get somewhere with their shit.

Also, I've noticed that some people in life put, like, no fucking effort into getting anywhere and doing something with themselves, and yet they still manage to pull off getting hired for jobs that pay stupid high wages, and that they're clearly underqualified for. Yeah, don't ask me how that works. Literally so many people I know who put in so much less effort and didn't fret about things at all are doing better than me and work much less stressful jobs that pay well.

It just sucks that having so much empathy for others, putting in a serious effort, and hard work seem to get you punished more than anything. I hate that the world is like that.

[greenieflor]

Demisexual!Steve is everything to me so have some of whatever this is

Steve didn’t really get the appeal of sex. He never had. It was fine in middle school, he would laugh at the stupid jokes Tommy H made and parrot back some version of his own, not quite understanding what he was saying. That didn’t matter, though; it made people laugh and clap him on the back. Then they got to high school. Tommy and Carol had been together “long enough to ask her, dontcha think?” Steve didn’t quite know what Tommy was going to ask her, but figured it didn’t hurt to agree. Now, Steve wasn’t stupid, he knew what sex was. At least, in the abstract. When he had asked his parents at age nine where babies come from, all he got was an “ask your mother” and a “oh you’ll find out when you’re older.” His health class sputtered through a quick, and frankly kinda gross, biological explanation and that was it. So yes, Steve knew what sex was, he just didn’t get the appeal. He figured one day, when he was married he would have sex- he did want six kids after all. But outside of some future marriage, Steve really couldn’t be bothered to care about sex. 

As high school progressed, Steve went on more and more dates. He enjoyed flirting and was pretty damn good at it. He learned to be good at other things, too. How to unhook a bra in one move, where to kiss a girl’s neck to make her go wild, even learned how to like having sex. But despite the growing number of notches in his bedpost (and his growing reputation as a bit of a slut) Steve Harrington still didn’t get it. Until he met Nancy Wheeler. With Nancy, it was different. It took them a little longer to fall into bed together, Steve was surprised at how much he wanted it with her. He had never actively wanted to sleep with someone like this, and it had never taken so long for it to happen. When they did sleep together, Steve finally understood. He got what people meant when they talked about sex. Up until this point he had enjoyed it, sure, it felt good and was kinda fun, but he hadn’t felt the desire, the emotional release that came with sex. After the dust had settled from Nancy breaking up with him, Steve figured he had cracked the code. He started taking more time with the girls he went out with, waiting until the third or fourth date to take them to bed. It just wasn’t the same though. He felt like he was back at square one, just going through the motions, except now he knew how good it could be. He knew how great it could feel and he just didn’t understand why he couldn’t get that back. He graduated, got the job at Scoops Ahoy, and soon after meeting Robin thought that maybe, just maybe, he had found it again. That feeling of wanting. But it wasn’t quite the same. There wasn’t that same heat when he looked at Robin. After their conversation on the bathroom floor he knew why. He loved her, maybe more than he’d ever loved anyone, but it wasn’t the same as when he loved Nancy. As we have already established, Steve wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t care too much about school. But after Robin came out, he ended up reflecting heavily on who he was in high school. The things he laughed at, the slurs he had thrown just to fit in. So, on a day off, he drove down to Indy to go to their library, already knowing that the Hawkins library would have jackshit on queerness. He was nervous about asking for help, he never really paid attention when Nancy would tell him how the cataloguing system worked at the library, but he recognized the pink triangle pin one of the librarians had from something Robin had shown him a few weeks before. He finds what he’s looking for deep in the stacks and takes a few books to a small table tucked away in the corner and starts reading. And reading. Steve devours the books he pulled, barely noticing the growing headache or setting sun until that same librarian comes over to tell him they are closing in twenty minutes and “did you find what you were searching for?” “Yeah. Yeah I think I did.” Steve waits. He thinks. Looks back on his past relationships and wonders. He talks to Robin, but neither of them have the right words. Summer was over, his kids were in school and suddenly all they could talk about was this Eddie guy they played D&D with. Steve, despite his growing jealousy, has to admit he respects the guy a bit. Anyone who looks out for his kids is good in his book. And then spring break happens. A month later, Eddie is finally released from the hospital and Steve insists on taking him back to his house- his parents left a long time ago and made it very clear they had no plans to return. Steve checks Eddie’s stitches every day and the two start to grow closer. Love never sneaks up on Steve, it hits him all at once. Eddie had been living with him for a week when he was finally up to DMing a short game and seeing all the kids again. The house was filled with noise and laughter for the first time in years and Steve thought he couldn’t be happier. The night came to a close and the kids started heading home and suddenly it was just Eddie and Steve, sitting side by side on the couch with the debris of the night spread around them. Eddie collapsed into Steve’s side, letting out a sigh and a “god I love those kids but they are so damn loud.” And that’s when it hits him. He loves Eddie. Has for a while now, probably. And that is what was missing from all those attempted dates in high school. That’s what he had with Nancy that made it so different. What made it hurt that much more to lose. But he still didn’t have the right words. So he smiled, brushed a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ear, and pulled him into his side. They could find the words together.

Update: wrote some ace!eddie!

[katyswrites]

Hi!!! I was just wondering if you could do like a one shot smut type thing for Robin where you’re having a sleepover and her parents are home but like you can’t resist each other and have to be quiet?? Preferably a sub reader if possible thanks so much!!!

Hi anon! I know you sent this forever ago, but life got pretty crazy! But I LOVE an opportunity to write for Robin, so here ya go!

Fever Dream High (In The Quiet of the Night)

Pairing: Robin Buckley x AFAB!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), vaginal fingering, oral, overstim if you squint, Robin is a giver in bed, softdom!Robin, sub!reader, implied period-typical homophobia, some fluff, established relationship, it's basically all smut

Wordcount: 1.8k

Smut below the cut!

It’s quiet - the kind of quiet that only falls over suburbia, in the dead of night. Crickets chirp outside, the din of night settling over Hawkins like a blanket. The light static of the TV illuminates the room - The Princess Bride had ended hours ago, but neither of you had bothered to get up to rewind the tape, let alone turn off the TV.

In fact, you had gotten… distracted. Because what had started as a sleepover is turning into something more.

You and Robin have been seeing each other for the last few months; not many people know. Steve, of course, and Nancy had found out soon after. None of the kids even know. Robin isn’t ready for that, and quite frankly, neither are you. Around others, you’re limited to hands held under tables, stolen kisses in cars, and alibis for how and where you spend your nights. As far as Robin’s parents know, you two are really good friends - which, in a way, isn’t a lie. So, when you came to stay the night, her parents didn’t bat an eye. In fact, Mrs. Buckley had said, it’s so lovely that you girls still love having sleepovers!

If only she knew.

It had started innocently, really - any moment with Robin was time well-spent. After the movie ended, you had both started talking about life, getting deep, as late night conversations tend to go. Then, the giggles had started - an all-out laughing fit, where every little moment sent you both into another round of uncontrollable mirth, shhhh-ing each other with little success.

“We have to be quiet,” Robin says, pressing her finger to her lips. You clutch your sides, giggling at something stupid she had said.

“I can’t,” you gasp, struggling to breathe. You fall back against the mattress, cackling.

“You have to,” she whispers, fighting her own laughter.

“Oh yeah?” you say, raising your eyebrows challengingly. “Are you gonna make me?”

A devilish glint passes Robin’s eyes, as she smiles and leans in closer.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her face inches from yours. “I think I will.”

Then she’s closing the distance between you two, her lips meeting yours. It’s sweet, and slow, and you kiss her back immediately, sighing into her mouth. Now, neither of you are saying anything. The kiss soon becomes more hungry, desperate - you two haven’t had a true moment alone in weeks, and you’re both feeling it.

Robin moans breathily into the kiss, and you open your mouth slightly, allowing her tongue to enter. You could die happily with the taste of Robin on your tongue - like bubblegum and Coke, and the scent of summer rain and her strawberry shampoo. 

You lean back more, back flat against the bed now - she’s pressing into you, chest-to-chest. You feel her hand snake up under your t-shirt, softly brushing against the skin of your stomach, making her way up. As she gently cups your breast, you gasp.

“Robin,” you sigh, arching your back to lean into her touch as her thumb circles your nipple.

“No bra,” she whispers. “Thank god.”

“It was - ah, fuck - I was ready for bed -” you gasp, as she continues to palm your breast.

“Yeah? Well, change of plans, babe,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat.

You arch up again, pressing your clothed core up into her thigh, desperate for friction to resolve the heat pooling between your legs. 

She laughs huskily against your skin. “Desperate, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groan.

“What do you want, baby?” she asks, peppering more kisses up and down your neck. You just sigh, threading your hands through her hair.

“Use your words, sweetheart - you’ve gotta tell me what you want -”

“Fuck, I - I want more - I want you - it’s been so long -”

You’re aware that you’re practically begging, grinding up into Robin’s thigh, breathily moaning into each kiss as you ask for more. But, you can’t bring yourself to care, not right now.

“That can be arranged,” Robin whispers, lips inches from your ear. “But, it’s late - and my parents are home. So, you need to be quiet for me, baby. Can you do that?”

You nod, then breathe, “Yes.”

Needing no further encouragement, Robin pulls away, pulling at the hem of your shirt. Taking the cue, you hastily reach down and pull it over your head. She fumbles with your pajama shorts, shimmying them down your legs and tossing them carelessly across the room, baring you to her. Robin smiles at the sight.

“Wow,” she whispers, eyes raking up and down your form. “I’ll never get used to how beautiful you are, you know that?”

Despite yourself, you feel the heat rush to your face, suddenly shy. 

“You’re one to talk,” you murmur back - even after all this time, just looking at Robin doesn’t cease to take your breath away. Her lips are swollen and glossy from kissing - from kissing you - and her hair is mussed from where your fingers had been moments before.

She smiles softly, and pulls herself back over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Let me take care of you,” she breathes. “But not a sound out of you, got it?”

You nod, and she smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye as her hand snakes down, down, down -

W

She runs a finger along your slit, and gasps. 

“So wet, Jesus - all this just for me?”

You bite your lip, and nod. She presses another kiss to your lips, more wet and messy, as her finger finally brushes against your clit. You moan, and your eyes flutter shut.

“Good girl,” she whispers, starting to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. You involuntarily buck into her hand, as she spreads the lips of your cunt with her fingers. 

Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as she continues to stroke your clit.

“Does that feel good, baby?” she asks. You just nod, unable to speak as stars begin to dance behind your eyes. Without missing a beat, she slowly sinks a finger inside of you. You groan at the intrusion, throwing your head back.

“Fuck,” you cry, “More, baby, please -”

“Shut up,” she whispers, clamping her free hand over your mouth. “Do you want the whole neighborhood knowing that I’m fucking you right now?”

You moan into her hand, grinding up into her hand again.

After a moment, she slides a second finger into you, stretching you out. Your hands grip the sheets as she begins to pump them, slowly, taking her time as she brushes that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. She starts to return attention to your clit with her thumb, causing you to curl up into her, burying your head into the crook of her neck.

You feel the heat building up in your core, a familiar, tight coil forming within you. She speeds up the ministrations of her fingers, brushing against that soft, sensitive part inside you, making your toes curl and your vision start to go white behind your eyes. Yes, yes, yes -

You come with a muffled scream, pressing your face into Robin’s shoulder to suppress the sound, remembering the need to be quiet. You clench around her fingers, coating them in your slick as you come down from your high.

“Just like that,” she croons. “Holy shit, you’re doing great, baby.”

You sigh as she extracts her fingers from you. Before you can say anything else, Robin is kissing between the valley of your breasts, making her way down your body. She presses open, messy kisses into your skin.

“Robin?” you ask, eyes flying open as she makes her way down. “What are you -”

“Shhhhh -” she says, bringing a finger to your lips. “I know you’ve got another one in you - I need to taste you, I’ve been missing you.”

Your heart does a somersault at that - she’s always so unbelievably good to you, in every way. She moves down, getting off the bed, leaving you lying there on the edge. You prop yourself up on your elbows. She looks up at you devilishly at you from between your legs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, never breaking eye contact with you as she works her way up. 

Part of you wants to protest, to tell her to lay back and let you have her. But, she’s peppering kisses up your thigh, and it’s so hard to say no to Robin, especially like this. Before you can say anything else, she buries her head between your thighs, and suddenly nothing else matters. 

She closes her lips around your clit, making your toes curl and your entire body arch. Every movement of her tongue against your pussy makes you tense anew, new waves of pleasure shooting directly to your core. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm mere minutes ago, twitching at Robin’s every touch. Your hands reach  desperately for something, anything, before finally finding her hair between your legs. You grab onto her silky locks, eliciting a groan out of her.  She opens her mouth more, messily sucking at your soaked pussy.

Her tongue circles your clit expertly. You can’t even think, can’t form coherent thoughts beyond yes. Your hips jerk, rolling into her face as she continues. She slides her hand up then, finding your hand and interlocking fingers with you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as she continues to eat you out. 

“Robin,” you moan, your voice breaking. “Fuck, fuck - I’m - I’m gonna -”

“Do it,” she breathes into your cunt. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

One last swipe of her tongue on your clit, and the dam breaks for the second time tonight. You bite your own hand, silently screaming as you toss your head harshly onto the mattress. Everything below your hips is on fire, squeezing and releasing, your pussy flooding her face. Robin continues to gently help you through your orgasm, lapping at you gently, until it’s too much. You gently tap her head, signaling her to stop before you’re too overstimulated. Soon, you’re trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high as pleasure continues to ebb and flow through you.

Robin crawls back up to you, her face glossy with the evidence of your orgasm.

“How was that?” she asks, almost innocently. You just laugh softly, and pull her in for a messy kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue.

“Fucking fantasic,” you breathe. She smiles into the kiss.

“I’m glad,” she replies, softly stroking your hair out of your face. You look into your eyes, and feel a grin forming on your face.

“Well,” you whisper, stroking her cheek, “I think I owe you one, now.”

Before Robin can protest, you’re kissing her again, and sliding your hand under the hem of her shorts. 

“Remember,” you whisper, lips pressed right to her ear. “We’ve gotta be quiet.”

Then, she’s laughing, and you’re shutting her up with another kiss, and nothing else in the world matters.

Feedback & comments are always appreciated!

Requests for Stranger Things fics are open

Prompts for blurbs 

[vaguely-yandere]

I am in love with the concept of a Rich and Powerful Yandere (A CEO of a Company for example) who always acts all Stoic, Dignified and Proud with everyone, except when they are with their Darling, with they Darling they act like a little puppy, always sticking to their Darling and being willing to do anything that they darling says, no matter how immoral or humiliating it is.

YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!! YOU GET IT!!!! WE???? SHARING AN ENTIRE BRAIN RN!!!!! ive thought this SO MANY TIMES and honestly, the "always stoic and quite frankly mean" stereotype of yandere is kinda overdone (but i love it when ppl manage to pull it off!! and no hate to ppl who like that kinda character!) and just. give me an uber rich stereotypical ceo yandere who, instead of buying ur house and forcing you to work for them, is just like "yes darling??? do you need something??? no?? here, take 100$ in cash just in case!!! love you!!! <333"

and i think their darling can do two ways! either a subordinate who has no fucking clue why the ceo of the fucking company is clinging to them or a high up person on the corporate ladder who is so fuckin annoyed with their yandere but can't say anything cause they're the fuckin CEO

with the subordinate darling, i think they'd be kinda stereotypical in a "office romance manga" sense. a shy, well mannered, very polite and kinda clumsy but very hardworking person with a shockingly lively sex life! and gosh, the CEO just eats it right up. you're just so cute and sweet and for the first time, someone is treating them like.. well, not like a monster! or royalty! you stand up to them sometimes and you put them in their place and *god they love it when you put them in their place!*

at first, people thought maybe they were just the doting type but no, they actually are completely submissive towards you and is unashamed of it. telling you to call them by their first name is public, giving you gifts and money, having their secretary bring you flowers and such (right before firing them and making you their secretary so they can look at you all day) (and then hiring a secret second secretary when they realize you have zero experience in that field)

and goodness, the day you get mad at them... the entire building can feel it. to you, they just look like they're moping but to everyone else they're having a complete rage fit. they snap at everyone, they yell at any tiny mistake, they'll take any opportunity to make one of their subordinates cry but the second they see you, they go back to looking like a kicked puppy, begging you to tell them what they can do to fix this and when you sarcastically tell them to punch themselves in the face... you turn around and find them with a broken nose and blood getting all over their expensive suit but with the happiest expression because you're *looking* at them.

with the second one, it's 100% more kinky but also comedic, I just know it.

you're fairly dominating and you have to be! you're in the cut throat business world and you are always fighting for your place at the table so it's only natural you're a bit suspicious when the CEO suddenly moves to your office building and follows you around all day and it's. well, it's fucking annoying. the yan isn't stupid (stupid in love, yes) so they notice how apprehensive you are about yelling at or scolding them in public areas so they bring you aside and are like "here's a contract that says i legally cannot fire you if you insult me in private" so. you let loose! and god, they fucking love it. they love it so so much, it makes them fall more and more in love with you every time they see that hateful look in your eyes, i just KNOW the ceo is a masochist with a HEAVY DOSE of servitude!!!! and if anyone is rude to you? you're venting about your day, you talk about all the people that called you a bitch, whatever? fired the next day. left to rot on the street. some you were grateful for but others, well, they were probably just having a bad day that day! so you ask the yan to rehire them and they do (albeit with a lot of complaints and whining and pouting)

and what happens if you lose your temper and slap them? at first, you're relieved because you finally let your anger out and then *mortified* because you just fucking slapped your boss and then next thing you know, they're on their knees in front of you, begging for forgiveness (while saying you can hit them again if you want to and trying to seem like they don't want it to happen but they really really want you to hit them again)

and i can already imagine, with either darling, the CEO gently reminding them to call them by their first name in a meeting while they have the classic "head on hand, heart eyes, dopey smile" look at you and you blush a bit and then another worker from a different company that's trying to form some sort of ally ship with yours calls them by their first name. immediately, the yanderes look just drops and they glare at them. to make it worse, the worker digs their hole deeper by telling you to "fetch them some water" or something rude like that and the entire room shakes from the yan slamming their hands down on the table

"get out."

"h-huh?"

"i said get out before i make you." and afterwards when you scold them for being rude, they lay whimpering at your feet and begging for forgiveness.

waaaahhh and imagine asking them to do something embarrassing in public! PDA, stepping in a dirty water fountain to fetch something you dropped, maybe you waved your hand at them dismissively and jokingly said "go make me a sandwich/go fix my car" and they just *fucking do it without a second thought*

"GET OUT OF THERE, YOUR SOCKS AND SHOES ARE OVER 500$!!!"

"but you asked me to do it? :("

and sometimes you use this power for evil, like pretending to be the CEO when someone is being rude to you but you also enjoy just messing around with them. your feet hurt? they'll give you a foot massage in the middle of the office. want a kiss in front of an important client? sure darling!!!! you call them dumb for the way they did something? "im so sorry my love, ill fix it right now!!" doesn't even fuckin matter what they're doing or who they're talking to, they'll do it. anyone else joke or even *act* friendly with them will get a stern glare and a disgusted look, meanwhile you call for their name and they bright up like they're seeing the sky for the first time in decades.

they could spend hours yelling at a secretary or worker for not representing their company image properly and when you smack their finger out of your coworkers face and tell them to chill out? on their knees, begging you for forgiveness. hell, if they had things their way, they'd work from home and spend all day attached at your hip. (on the darker side, they've looked into permanent handcuffs multiple times and you bet your ASS they have one of those "infinity collar"s that they gave you the key to)