#maybe in Part 2

[a-mint-bear]

Your Secret Admirer

Female Yandere x Reader

Part 1

The story of your secret admirer and how she fell in love with you.

[tw: suicidal ideation] - it's vague but it's there.

Part 2

===========

She'd been alone for some time.

Her father traveled for work, she could count the number of times he'd been home and seen her in the last ten years on one hand. Her mother had been more attentive when she was younger, from what she could remember, but that stopped pretty abruptly when her younger brother had been born. He had a lot of health problems and spent a lot of his childhood in and out of hospitals, their mother stayed by his side. She didn't really know him, and he didn't know her.

Between her father's job and her brother's health, she had attended a new school every couple of years. When she finally felt settled, every time, they would pick up and move again. She stopped trying to make friends fairly early on.

She made sure to never cause trouble and worry her family. She was always the perfect daughter. Never underfoot or in the way, even when she wanted her family's attention more than anything.

No one to cry with when things got hard. No one to nurse her back to health when she was sick. No one to celebrate her birthdays with her. No one to say good morning or good night to.

No matter how good her grades were or what she achieved, they never looked her way. They didn't need to check in on her; she was their healthy child, the one who never caused any trouble, who could take care of herself. She knew they loved her, but she couldn't remember the last time they had actually told her so, or even showed her. Her mother had her brother and her parents had each other, there was no one who was only hers.

She had always been on her own.

Even when she'd started college, every day was still so meaningless... nothing really mattered. She never found anything she wanted to be or do... She found herself just going to her classes day after day, never speaking to anyone, just because she was... supposed to, to stay out of the way.

Then, that day, she was walking to her classes when everything just... stopped.

She couldn't take it anymore. Why should she keep going? There wasn't anything for her to look forward to anyway... She couldn't bring herself to take another step. What was the point? In any of it?

If she were to disappear, how long would it take her family to notice? There wasn't anywhere meant for her... no one to look to... and a future that was getting harder and harder to picture herself in.

If she walked off and kept on walking... would anyone even notice? She wanted the world to stop so she could just... breathe.

She was so empty, it physically hurt.

The world slammed back into motion when she was suddenly knocked to the ground. There was a stinging, throbbing pain on the side of her wrist.

And there you were.

You were apologizing over and over, saying you weren't watching where you were going. You hovered with a worried look as she got up, she was still kind of out of it.

When you saw that she had scraped her hand on the concrete in the collision, you reached out without thinking. When you took her hand in yours, she couldn't breathe. You led her to a nearby bench and sat with her, getting into your bag. You got out a surprisingly cute bandage and stuck it on, still apologizing and fussing, but all she could focus on was your touch.

It jolted everything awake inside her. She was hyperaware of everything. The way the sun hit your eyes, the smell of your shampoo, the nervous lilt in your voice as you kept on apologizing.

And your warmth. She was in awe at it; it had been so long since she'd felt another person's warmth. A kind voice, a comforting look in their eyes.

Everything about you filled that empty space.

You asked her if she was okay, and those words finally broke through.

"Yes." she nodded, suddenly aware of how rude she might've seemed. "Thank you... for helping me... um?"

You just smiled and told her your name. It sounded so... right.

She told you hers back, and to you it was something so inconsequential. An accidental meeting between two strangers not likely to ever meet again.

But to her, it was everything.

You flashed one more warm smile and gave one last sincere apology before standing, and it took everything in her to not ask you not to go. But that would be strange, right? She was just a stranger to you, you didn't owe her that. But she wanted so badly for you to stay.

And when you were gone, all she wanted was to see you again.

===========

The next day, you were on the same route. She watched from a ways away, trying to figure out what your day looked like, when would be the best time to come and see you again... But the longer she watched, the more she found herself... nervous? She'd never felt this way before.

If she said the wrong thing, or made a bad impression on you, she was afraid you would look right through her, like everyone else did.

Look at me.

It became her mantra. It repeated over and over in her head as she watched you, she uttered it again and again like a prayer as she fell asleep to thoughts of you. She poured the words like a blessing into everything she made for you. It became her fondest wish.

She had daydreams of you. Always of you seeing her again. In some, you smiled and called to her. When you said her name again it would fill her with such warmth. In others you looked at her with disgust and fear at discovering how she'd been following you. She was surprised to find that he latter option gave her such a strange thrill.

As long as you were looking at her, it didn't matter to her with what intention.

She left you gifts. Little things to guide you back to her, when the time was right. She wrote her thoughts in love notes she would slip into your bag or leave where only you would find them. She left a bookmark with pressed baby's breath flowers in the book you checked out from the library. They were small and didn't stand out among other, brighter flowers, but staring at their tiny, delicate blossoms made her feel... something. She wasn't quite sure what. She'd taken flowers from the same branching stem, set them in resin, and made them into a necklace as something like a matching set. It made her feel close to you, in her own way.

You used to spend what felt like forever looking over the things she left you, sometimes with a smile, sometimes with surprise or confusion, but always something behind your eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

But after a while, you started to ignore the things she left you. No surprise or raised eyebrows, or funny little smiles at her clumsy poetry. Not even annoyance or disgust at finding yet another trinket she'd made you or the all-too-personal fantasies she'd left in a note. Just...

Nothing.

You just left them where you found them and kept going about your life, like it didn't matter. Like she didn't matter.

You couldn't see her anymore.

It left her feeling sick.

She cried and screamed in that empty house, where no one heard her. Just another place where she wasn't really... there. You'd become such a comfort to her, but now all she could do was sit alone with her thoughts. She skipped her classes, she couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, but there was no one to notice. No one to care. She was spiraling down into something awful. She started thinking of all the ways she could get your attention again, none of them as pleasant as the gifts and notes like before.

Love her or hate her, anything was better than the cold indifference that stabbed through her heart, ripping out every piece of you and making her empty again.

She couldn't go back to that. She refused to feel that horrible ache again. She made a plan. It was time for you two to reunite, no matter the consequences.

"Just you wait..." she smiled, holding her necklace tight, gently caressing the smooth surface under her thumb. She held it to her lips as her mantra ran through her mind over and over again.

"You'll finally see me..."

===========

an anon asked for a longer story for The Secret Admirer yandere girl

Original Yandere Girl Types post

[criiitter]

how did sonic even get him to take that?

[hinamie]

10 years later

[pvtpunsart]

last smash bros screen!! he did it!!!

"Hah-hahaha!! VICTORIOUS BLUSTER!"

[goryhorroor]

horror of 2024

[fraternum-momentum]

based on @peachykindaok 's post that you can find here !

[chloesimaginationthings]

Mangle wants to join Foxy’s crew in FNAF 2,,

[autlantic]

THE MEDIA THINK YOU’RE DATING THE WRONG HERO | SMAU

ೃ⁀➷ denki, midoriya, bakugou, monoma

requests open !

[mizgnomer]

Parallels - Good Omens Seasons One & Two - Part One

Links to [ Part Two ] [ Part Three ] [ Part Four ] [ Part Five ]

[maxbegone]

*I explicitly did not go one-for-one with what is considered the top ten best ‘70s rock songs

**bohemian rhapsody is not included in this poll because this is tumblr and we all know it would win

1980s version

1990s version

[wordpress-blaze-176197706]

The Ridge- REPUBLISHED

Into the Wilderness: Part 6

Our rented SUV was one of the last in the parent caravan. We drove along winding paved roads until we turned off onto dirt pathways, passing white clapboard houses nestled among the hills, weathered with moss, a lone horse, a few sheep hugging dilapidated barns. Then, we turned off those dirt roads onto pitted tracks created by other four wheelers. We navigated slowly up the mountain, wheels edging steep declines. We bumped over rocks, tree branches scraping our doors. We passed an overflowing stream.

Finally, the line slowed and stopped. In what seemed like practiced unison, SUVs turned slightly off the tracks. The forest was damp and thick, the soil emitting steam as the sun warmed it. The Blue Ridge Mountains in Georgia are actually a temperate rainforest and that becomes obvious the moment you crack open your car door. The moisture and heat- it was now late August- envelope you.

All around us was green. If our teens were camped in these woods, seeing them through the trees was nearly impossible. Chuck and I got out of our SUV and followed the other parents walking toward an incline about a half mile down the path. A sense of human presence started to emerge. An abandoned steel tent frame gleamed in a clearing- not from our campers; they have strict rules to leave the forest as they find it. In the distance, smoke from a campfire wafted through the green light. We walked toward it.

All around us, teens and parents had begun to re-unite. Rustling undergrowth, excited screams: the teens rushed to meet their parents.

Far down on the path, was a spot of red. As we walked, it formed into a shape, then a figure. It was unloading food supplies from the back of an SUV. The figured stopped and faced our direction.

Squinting, Chuck asked, "Is that Catina?" We couldn't tell. We walked closer. And as we did the figure began to sprint toward us. And then we knew. This was our girl.

We ran. She ran, clouds of dirt rising around her like Pigpen from Charlie Brown. We came together, grabbing hold and squeezing in an enormous hug.

The first thing I noticed was how bad she smelled. And how smelling so bad, she still smelled good. Every mother knows the scent of her child. It's there from the first moment your child is in your arms and you bury your nose in the soft spot where the neck meets the shoulder.

That was the smell I noticed, along with sweat and body odor. Deoderant attracts mosquitos and flies so the teens avoid it.

Next, I noticed her clear eyes. And her dimpled smile. She was happy, not just to see us, but happy. Her body showed it. She had a confidence she had never carried before.

She had firmed up from the hiking and healthy eating. The teens do not eat processed foods and can only have limited amounts of honey as a rare treat. She was covered in bug bites, red welts dotting her arms, ankles and calves. She wore a long-sleeved red windbreaker and splotched khakis, an orange vest with fluorescent tape and a mismatched pair of crocs, one blue, one orange (see our photo in the About page), without socks.

Chuck and I wore "I heart Catina Wipper" T-shirts. In her last letter home, Catina had asked Chuck to adopt her, and we wanted to surprise her with his answer. Just two days before, we had found a small printing shop in Clayton, Georgia that could make our T-shirts in a day. The T-shirt was hidden beneath our buttoned shirts and we opened them in a big "ta da."

We were together again. After eight long weeks of separation.

We walked to the clearing where they had set up camp. In the center was a big tarp with a campfire. The teens learn how to start a fire using self-made bow drills. Designated campers tend the fire to keep it continually burning. No fire means eating peanut butter in big spoonfuls from the jar or handfuls of GORP.

Each teen was assigned a pack of necessities weighing about 40 pounds: sleeping bag, school and therapy notebooks, water bottles, food supplies, bowl and spoon, a change of clothes, bags for collecting waste, a toothbrush. The packs were piled in a mound about 20 feet from the center tarp. A constructed bathing area and latrine were at opposite ends of the camp, both lined with tarps for privacy. Above the camp, on a ridge, the teens had set up their tents. Each day, they choose a favorite spot for sleeping. This one had a view of nearby mountains, blue and hazy in the distance like a smudged charcoal drawing.

The teens had settled down with their parents, excited to tell them about living in the wilderness. They were all so proud. They had lived outside for weeks tending to their own needs. While different issues had brought them together, the underlying issue was often the same: anxiety, depression, low self-esteem. But now they had discovered they could thrive- through storms, heat waves, bug bites, pesky critters, slips and falls.

Catina took our hands and led us up a hill above the camp to a rocky nook shaded by trees. Chuck and I unfolded our chairs, portable, legless contraptions that suspend a body in a reclining position. These "chairs" are provided only to teens who have reached a certain level in their progress- an incentive to work hard. Visiting parents are warned not to give our chairs away, or to let our kids sit in them.

We checked in. How were we each feeling? Excited, happy, complete. Catina told us about her days- what time they rise, packing up, unpacking, hiking off trails, setting up camp, cooking meals, cleaning up. She had never camped a single day in her life before wilderness, and now she loved being in the deep woods, sitting quietly with a book or journal, or staring endlessly at the beauty of it all.

We talked about a lot of things. Her letters. Her inventories. Her memories. Her new-found love of reading. Her regret. Our regret. An awful, violent incident she had hidden from us and blamed herself for because it had happened at a party she shouldn't have been at. What had led her here, to this place, this moment.

When we returned to the camp, dinner prep was underway, a counselor watching as they cubed raw chicken and cut up vegetables, sauteed in a big skillet over the open flame. They made pasta with chicken and vegetables, simple and good. Catina added sriracha, gobbled it down and wiped her bowl clean with leaves from the ground. When I couldn't finish my serving, she was happy to eat more.

Joy. I had never seen her so in her body, so present to herself. She was just Catina. The Catina that is Catina. Not the Catina that anyone else wanted her to be.

As the sun began to set, we hiked up the hill to the ridge where they had lined their tents. I captured a fallen branch as a walking stick to help heave myself up the mountain and across the uneven terrain.

Catina had chosen to place her tent last, at the far end of the ridge. She tied it between trees, a sharp inverted V high off the ground so she could see the sky and feel the night wind. We crawled underneath, removed our hiking boots and handed them to the counselors. We loosened our clothes and laid on top of our sleeping bags, arms and legs interlinked, staring at the moon through the branches. We repeatedly whispered, "I love you." There was not much more to say.

We lay on this ridge of mountain. The ridge seemed endless, stretching across the Appalachian shelf. It had risen millions of years ago, rock crashing together, thrusting upward, a massive tectonic shift continuing to reshape the landscape even today. And here we were now, on this ridge, together. We too had collided, fault lines rippling through our lives. We had forged new selves out of this, our own seismic event. Here on this ancient ridge, we knew we had come far.

Source: The Ridge- REPUBLISHED

[isaacsdevil4108]

Lewis Pullman + muscles💪🏼

you're welcome! ;)

[salamispots]

speedrunning a bday gift for bb nephew hjdfgjh

[bricreative]

They’re making me go insane!!

Part 8 of 11

Part 7 <<

Part 9>>

[dzozef-art]

ive been playing a lot of minecraft lately so now theyre also playing minecraft !!!!

[vehemourn]

smth i honestly recommend everyone should do is like. keep a private folder of art u like on ur computer lol. and like. download art u like when u see it. ur gonna lose stuff Forever if u just like it, u know? and like, discord archives arent really enough lol. I have been downloading art since like 2016 & I have a LOT of art that was scrubbed from the internet otherwise, especially due to like. the antics of deviantart & twitter. And on things like twitter theres Barely a way to save art to begin with (bookmarks is Not good enough)

u do kinda lose Credit a lot of the time (unless u save it with it named? which i do sometimes but not always) and often like, it won't be the Perfect HQ or itll have a massive watermark on it. but like. since it's not really for Sharing as much as its for my own personal enjoyment, these things don't really bother me at all... Having a collection of art that i love that I can look at offline & like, On My Computer is so nice. And I back up a lot of it on hard drives when i back up my own art! Again, like, a lot of these pieces this is the Only way i can look at them anymore, and Maybe the only archive OF them.... I've had pieces from my friends Before they were my friends, that i just saved as a "fan", that THEY lost years later... I have pieces they hadn't Seen in years. And every year I Probably save at least a few more pieces that will become like, totally scrubbed from technology otherwise. idk. i think it's nice to have an archive of this art that is in my taste but also like, that i'd likely Lose otherwise.

i Hope people save my art. I don't honestly Think anyone does, but I Hope that like, if my shit ever blows up and all my accounts get scrubbed, Someone has at least one drawing I made saved to their computer 2 remember me. u know. Its like a scrapbook. I remember these ppls characters, i remember the communities at the time, i remember how i felt when i first saw the piece. Its really inspiring but also genuinely like, really Important to me and sentimental. I kinda think everyone should have their own collection but I think people are genuinely Scared to right click & save ppls art LOL. Genuinely where is the harm, though.

[antiwhores]

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?