#by miufresitae

[archerhoax]

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Looking for RP partner

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𖤐 - hi!! looking for roleplay partners that are 20+, here you have some things i’m looking for:

𖤐 - mainly looking for: mxf but will write other pairings. only looking for doubles!

𖤐 - looking for someone who’s regularly active & can respond timely

𖤐 - discord, third person, 3-4 paragraphs!! i like being detailed and headcannoning and having plot points.

𖤐 - must be 18+, i am 23; looking for nswf!!

⋆｡𖦹°‧

𖤐 - fandoms include: harry potter, mcu, the vampire diaries, twilight, criminal minds, celeb, throne of glass, devils night, legacy of gods, and potentially more!!

𖤐 - i’m also interested in oc x oc with specific plots!! i’m looking for fantasy au, crime au, band au, bully au, and more!

⋆｡𖦹°‧

if you’re interested pls dm me or like!! i’ll send you my discord and we can start chatting :)

[nicodefresas]

[princessbrunette]

coked up, angry s1!rafe has a lack of patience and an even bigger lack of playfulness.

when you’re giggling, pressing yourself up to him — tits basically falling out your shirt as you bat your eyelashes and he drawls out a sneered “cut it out.” he means it, because he really doesn’t have the patience. he won’t ask, he’ll grab your throat without any pre-negotiation and hiss “i said cut it out.” between grit teeth when you don’t. doesn’t care if you cry about it either, should’ve listened.

you can’t hang out with him in your bedroom either and try to act all cute, the boy happening to walk in on you whilst you’re reorganising your closet — music blasting, dim lighting, wearing flimsy little pyjama shorts that he’s already got his eyes on when he steps in. you’re dancing around, giddy and silly — just happy in your own presence let alone his and he never quite knows what to do with himself as it is, standing in the centre of your room with his hands tucked in his pockets trying to converse.

the stance makes you giggle more, never having known a man to be so confidently awkward in his ways and you approach, touching all up on him, still bopping away to your girly music, dropping down to your knees and sliding your hands up his thighs as he glares down at you.

“seriously? s’like fuckin’… tease shit.” he jeers, but he puts his hands behind his back, clasped there and widens his stance when you stand back up and bend over to jokingly twerk on him, rubbing your ass all along his crotch. he’s staring intensely at your ass, not laughing with you — and the second you pull away he’s grasping you by the back of the shorts and dragging you, pushing you on your front on the bed.

you whine, scrambling and he simply stills you with a heavy hand on your back, the other fumbling at his belt buckle.

“rafey! you’re no fun.” you mewl, still wriggling so that he tightens his grip, leaning into your ear for a moment to get the message across, demeanour all mean.

“you think i’m here for fun? be serious, kid.”

you let out a devastated groan but you don’t really mean it, kicking up a fuss for the sake of you losing your momentum in organising your closet — when really you could feel the glossy wet print soaking through your shorts as you speak. he holds you down harder on the bed, overpowering you effortlessly.

“quit fighting it. jesus. knew what you were fuckin’ doin’ alright so don’t play with me. not today.”

[y-unrei]

玻璃翅膀，wherever you go @flaireur 熱情玫瑰, that's where ill follow

[baekry]

͏⏝ ི can’t get you,

       ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀

out of my system ❤︎ㅤ ㅤ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ͏ ͏

[bun3333s]

a bell's not a bell 'til you ring it - yandere scaramouche x gn reader

scaramouche has kidnapped you for a while now, and it's been even longer since he's put your collar on. the sound of your bell follows you everywhere. you think you might be losing it.

1.6k words

contains: yandere scaramouche x reader, kidnapping/confinement, non-graphic allusions to violence, brief mention of reader's death, reader succumbing to stockholm syndrome, gn reader ('you' pronouns)

minors dni; engage responsibly

note: inspired (to write scara lol) by discussing pathetic scara with the lovely @diz-eaze

you know how, sometimes, people put a bell on a cat’s collar to alert prey? meant to prevent unnecessary harm to local wildlife, keep them as safe as they can be in a world out to get them. it’s a warning; telling them danger is near — to run, to hide, to do something.

maybe if the same cat came around everyday, at the same time, to the same little bird, day in and day out, the bird will come to associate the soft rings of the bell with the accompanying violence. and the same way the chime trains the birdie to flinch, the cat learns to watch. the cat learns to move slower, tread more carefully, hoping the bird won’t hear. but it never manages to fully sink its claws into the little birdie. not yet.

you wonder if one day, when the cat stops coming (maybe it’s finally learned), the bird would miss it. even just for the briefest of moments, when the bell no longer chimes.

probably not.

not wanting to spend more time ruminating, you turn your face away from the window. there’s a soft strumming of your finger pads against the sill as you study the clock — yumemiru wood; dark grey grain gently holding the ticking hands. it matches the shelves, the desk, the lamp; all ornate and exquisitely crafted with the utmost care. and it matches you — matches something on you at least, cringing at the mental correction.

your neck is still sore but you strain it in a vain attempt to see what’s on your neck anyways. you don’t see much (as always), but you can hear it. you can’t seem to not hear it, really. a delicate sound, not much more than a soft clink when you’re careful about it.

you only know it matches the decor because scaramouche told you so.

if you were going to be collared like an animal, you’d at least like to see what it looks like. he’d come home (back, not home, you chide yourself) one day, a box in tow. ordered to close your eyes and open them for nothing but his word, you’d been kept prisoner long enough to silently obey. the box made a strange noise. there was the expected rustling — all the no doubt fancy packaging to sift through first. but there was also a higher, sharper sound. eyes still closed, your best guess was jewelry of some kind. he did like to dress you up, after all.

you felt vindicated for a brief moment when his hands had gone to clasp something around your neck — some sort of victory in the knowledge of his predictability, safety in being able to see his patterns, see him for what he is.

you’d let out a snort now if the looming possibility of scaramouche hearing it and ‘disciplining’ you wasn’t drawing ever nearer. some victory that was. short-lived too, because you’d felt the unnatural tension of the collar at your throat moments later.

you think he’d felt it too, back then. your skin, warming up; you, breathing harder and faster and shallower because it seemed to get tighter and tighter and it’d felt like the certainty of a noose you hadn’t even seen yet. his hands had lingered a bit. sadistic bastard.

scaramouche didn’t need to tell you what it was. but there was an unnerving lilt to his voice, softer than it usually was.

“it matches, y’know?”

indigo orbs peering to the clock, yours had followed with tears in them. the noise had followed you too — the soft rattle of the bell’s tongue against its cage as your head had moved. you’d flinched then, out of habit. how could you not?

you didn’t see the displeasure swirling in his eyes at the time, but you’d learn. you always had to.

you’d asked to see it, once or twice. but scaramouche never indulged you, didn’t like keeping mirrors around (something about there being no point staring into failure when you could look to your future), sharp edges when they broke. can’t risk it, he’d said.

it’s quite ironic, when you think about it. you’re no predator, so dangerous that others need to heed your very presence as peril. you couldn’t imagine being further from that. you’re more like a house pet; embellished purely so your owner could coo at how cute you were, keep track of your shenanigans and find you in the middle of the night to bring you back to bed. honestly, you used to be jealous of them. no worries over money, food, life — that was all beyond them. they’re pampered to all hell, so surely the occasional jingle of a bell and living a life that is not yours is fine, isn’t it?

now, scaramouche is a proper predator: claws and all, the chiming that follows him is deceivingly mellow for the destruction he so often leaves in his wake. but him? he has a choice to be heard like this. he can take his bells off any time he wants. he doesn’t have to come back over and over again, waiting for you to stop flinching at the sound of his arrival. but he does. he always does.

maybe that’s why he added a bell to your collar, wanted you to get used to it —

but speak of the devil and he shall come. you hear him beyond the threshold to your world (the admittedly large room he’s sequestered you to) before you see him.

maybe it’s worked, because you don’t flinch at the noise. getting up to greet him, an outsider might even hear your collars ringing as the response to his.

“welcome home, my lord. i’ve missed you.”

and you have to admit that there is some truth in the statement, isolation takes its toll, y’know?

“i’ve missed you as well, dearest.”

the word is spoken with an uncharacteristic gentleness that might’ve bewildered anyone who wasn’t you.

you, who’s seen probably as much of his shrivelled up excuse for a heart as there could be. it was confusing, at first. why this harbinger would kidnap and keep you around, insults and disdain hanging from his perfectly sculpted lips all the while. it took time. time where you’d failed in your numerous attempts at escape, where you eventually became complacent enough to ‘earn’ the privilege of joining him in the bed at night; docile enough to hold for comfort on the nights where you’d find tear stains on the pillow in the morning, his side of the bed already cold.

honestly? you still find it hard to believe at times. that this delicate (and he’d have your head for this if he knew), fickle, little thing, bristling if your attention drifts from him for a second too long is the same scaramouche who would kidnap and discipline you without mercy.

you’re surprised it’s lasted this long, too, that he hasn’t already decided you too burdensome of a toy to want anymore. you suppose you’re thankful for this, in a way. god knows what he’d do with you if he got bored, never quite figured out why he even wanted you in the first place. you’d seen the vitriol with which he disposes of his enemies, but the thought of him carelessly leaving you behind is somehow more terrifying. no second thoughts, no looking back; simply no care for you. if he’d been upset, hands twisting into your throat, you’d at least die with the certainty that it was him. that it was his fault — for the pain, for keeping you; for making you like this.

if he’d simply given up on you, maybe a flick of his wrist and one of the guards you know are stationed outside your door come for you, it’d be… almost unsatisfying, in a way. what would it all have been for, then? the kidnapping, the suffering — so much time taken away from your life to sit by his side. would he have been lying, for all of it? were you just a warm body he could cling to at night and abandon come morning? were you that easy to tire of? that difficult to love?

it’s funny, what the mind does sometimes.

his hat shifts and you hear the crisp chiming of bells. you’d never admit it to yourself, but the sound has started to comfort you, in a twisted way.

“i brought something back for you today.”

“thank you, my lord.”

the box is similar in size to the one that held your collar — a grim reminder of your situation that grounds you in the reality of yumemiru flooring, a singular barred window, and the collar that you swear gets tighter every time you think about it.

“i had them make some taiyaki — extra crispy with a fluffy batter and not too much filling — just the way you like it.”

he tilts his head sometimes when he smiles (really smiles); childish with teeth and you swear you can feel his heart beat in these moments.

you smile back, and take in the chimes his movement brings with a light hum. distantly, you think you could even be convinced that this sounded like home.

thank you so much for reading ! hope u enjoyed, any constructive feedback or general thoughts/comments are appreciated <3

[donatellawritings]

‎ 🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧ hi! welcome to my blog ୨୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒🩰

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི please do NOT copy my work, if you want to use any of my works as inspiration, please reach out to me first, thank you

name: you can call me tella!

age: 23

background: latina (puerto-rican)

pronouns: she/her

zodiac sign: aries

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PLEASE READ the below disclaimer before interacting with/reading any of my posts or blog in general

ALL of my works will be 18+ so if you are a minor, please do not read or interact with my works, or my blog in general as there will be posts and writings that contain highly sensitive content being shared at any given time

[stillmonstr]

[simonz-angel]

hello hellooo my angelzzz 😋

logging in to see that ive somehow gathered 500 of your beautiful beings!! AHH so so SO insane to me really.

i wanna thank each n every one of my sweet loves out there from the bottom of my heart. i started to write as a lil hobby and an escape from the horrors of day to day life and to be given this in return is so beautiful to me.

n to know that people out there do truly enjoy what i write to leave a follow or even a like warms my heart full. thank you my angels!!

i feel like there’s someway i should do a lil celebration cuz i always see cutesy lil blogs doing that, buuuuutttt im not sureeeee

anyways, again n again thank you hunnies kisses and hugs and love to all of you beautiful babes!! 💕

feel free to talk wimmie a lil in the chat, id love to hear from some of you angels and get to know yall!

[frillydolle]

cannot for the life of me stop thinking abt size difference reader n Arthur… he’s always towers over no matter how tall YOU are, his hand engulfs yours everytime they intertwine, and his bicep is the size of ur head when he flexes <33

꒰ ୨ৎ ꒱　 ──　 size kink　 nsfw themes near the end!

once he wrapped his arm around ur head during fake wrestling and then something inside of u snapped! u absolutely adore how big and strong he is.

then again, he didn't mind anyone proper until he met u. something in him snapped, too. he just had to have u.

he could be doing nothing, absolutely nothing. he could be talking to u ab anything, and ur trying to keep urself focused on his words. it was impossible! the way he'd often tower over u made it almost impossible to control urself.

he is just so tall... 6'2 to be specific. he was incredibly strong too. hearing that he beat up a fella pretty good and he was valentine's tough man! made u fall in love with arthur all over again.

u were practically drooling every time u watched him cut wood for the campfire. the way his arms flexed as the axe sliced through the wood, the way his sleeves were rolled up only halfway up his arm, the way he'd adjust himself...

u were weak in the knees once he throws u over his shoulder, heading to his tent. like u weigh nothing!! it made ur heart soar as u were giggling away.

his hands were huge, too. ur hands disappeared once he has them in his grasp. callous hands meet.

he mostly definitely let u tie s pink ribbon around his bicep, within his tent, of course.

when u wanted to be a little difficult, aka not paying proper attention, he would so lift ur face up to have u look up at him. u felt butterflies in ur stomach.

his hands were so big too, sometimes even veiny as they went up to his arm. his biceps were so big...

nsfw

the way he towers over u as he thrusts into u too??? oh god u couldn't cope, he was just... it was all so good!!

u often forgot how big he really was. in more ways than once.

if he was in a bad mood, he'd be rougher with u. or mock u if he was lowhonor

as soon as he took hold of ur hands, enveloping them in his, ur heart always skipped a beat.

u just loved everything about that man.

[valntini]

( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ɪᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ. . .         ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ  ( • ᴖ • ｡)

[ohdearlucifer]

◟⊹ ❀ 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𐙚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[nicodefresas]

— ౨꒰ Dividers ꒱ৎ◞ ྀི —

-credit in tags if use

[princessbrunette]

summer outfits for the readers ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

bunny, kitty, deer:

puppy, mouse, lamb:

[m8tchalatte]

knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out... ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

・゜゜・. ...is it casual now?

[napalmzombie]