#male mind manipulation

[alienpossession]

My stepson is a rather troublesome kid, especially after his mother's passing. He soon dropped out of college, losing the sense of direction he had and just straight out spiralled into a mess. Not to mention that his coping mechanism involved him to hung out with the wrong crowd and start smoking too despite his mother in the past clearly forbid him since he was a prospective star athlete. He also started to grow agitated to the world and overall just disrespect authorities, which included me as the last person that is bold enough to reprimand him while on his way to do his antics

After one of our early morning argument as he arrived back home from clearly a long night he did doing God knows what, he just stormed into his room after giving me a middle finger and cursed under his breath. I decided that enough is enough and I did what I knew best to handle reckless and wild human like that

You see....I was not from this planet. I arrived around 20 years ago into this farmland where I stumbled with this young studly farmer that just about to start his days. I slid into him and never left his body as I decided that I would be safe and undetected as long as I did not slid out of him while the search for me was still active. I was paranoid that if I ever left this body, suddenly the detection system spotted me so I resisted the temptation to leave and remained hidden inside while controlling this human that I cultivated into the best version it could be. But this little punk really pushed me to my limit. I'm just so desperate trying to prove my humanity and ability to disciplined the smaller and younger human I supposedly have authority over, I pushed myself out and slid into the sleeping body of my stepson. Once I slid in, I went straight to his brain and started to work it while he's sleeping soundly with zero awareness that a far more intelligent being is currently rewiring his organ responsible for free thinking into one filled with obedience and submissiveness. I was not necessarily the expert on brain's anatomy but I know which part I should and should not touch. Once I felt like my job has been precisely executed, I slid out of his brain and entered back to my original vessel.

Now, imagine my surprise that not only I made that punk into a more docile and submissive version of himself, I somehow made him gay too as I checked on him after the rework I did to his brain. And I guess I graced the part where he can pick up aroma even more strongly this time and that caused him to be a musk-whore for everything's sweaty and pungent. His obsession to his own pits clearly were a sight to behold as it was a far cry from his womanizer self I have to witness for the past few years he brought home girls to his bedroom.

Aside from his own self, he also loved me. Not the usual familial love, this boy is clearly fucked in the head as he viewed me as some sort of authority to please. It's like him calling me daddy is laced with sexual innuendo rather than the usual way a kid called up his parents. So, like the good father I am and to avoid getting him jumped on me while I sleep as I didn't satisfy his needs, I decided to change our family time where I asked him to have dinner with me to him sniffing my feet and servicing my needs. It's not as cool (and normal human looking) as having him seated next to me watching the TV together or having warm dinners, but that's the way we live nowadays and not like he's complaining anyway.

I guess I really need to do better with all this brain rewiring

[fullfriendnerdclutch]

Rites: St Patrick's Day

It's a day celebrated by many people, especially Irish community. And in such a blessed festivities, several Irish-descent gained some kind of magical development blessed only on the time window of St. Patrick Day.

I've been hella distracted all day long, and it's all because of my roommate Patrick. He's always been a rather sporty guy from the get go, and I'm pretty much used to the fact that we're not necessarily that close as a roommate since we have totally different interest anyway. But, ever since he walked back in to the dorm after his shower this morning only rocking that towel, I simply couldn't take my eyes off him.

He's pale as fuck, yes, and not like that muscular or anything, but it's just super enchanting to see him glide around our dorm and dress himself up for the day. Since we have separate bedroom and only connected by this study-common section, we have our privacy and moments to ourselves rather easily. He decided to be a bit loud with all the oohs and aahs as he probably checked himself out. I was sure I heard him say something about his "slightly tanned skin" or "veinous muscular arms that make people feral" or even "my fat and girthy uncut cock" but well.....I think I would be a bit proud too over my body development if I have a studly physique like his

I remembered some of our final convo before we left for our respective schedule as he exited his bedroom and ready to leave earlier than me

"Clean the bathroom before you leave for your class, okay?"

"Can you take care of my laundry first? You don't have class till 2 PM, right? You can sniff it if you want HAHAH! Nevermind, just do my laundry, okay?"

"Come and watch me play with my buds after your class, okay? We'll play in the outdoor field, then we can head back to the dorm together, sounds nice, right?"

And I simply said yes to all of that. On top of that, even when he left, the obsession remain for me. I bet I spent most of my day daydreaming about him rather than putting on any substantial work whatsoever to my classes.

I found myself scrolling through IG and rewatching his stories upload about his workout session before I eventually dashed to the basketball court to watch him play as my classes wrapped for the day.

I followed all Patrick's movement on the court and practically ignored the other players, it's like as if he's my world and I need to focus all my attention to him. Eventually, when the sweating, post-basketball-reek Patrick brought me to his car, he simply put me in my place as he said

"Now be a good faggot and start huffing. This is the shit that keeps you going, this gives you satisfaction when you can prove that you served me well, right?"

And just like that, I accepted that as my truth

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

Woven from the same thread

[Part 2] [Masterlist]

Summary: Coriolanus Snow hungers for control, what will happen when he gives up it up for his own good? What will happen when he finaly meets his match?

Pairing: Sub!Coriolanus Snow x Dom!reader

Warnings: gaslight, gatekeeper, girl boss; dumbification; Coriolanus Snow, mentioned of death and bombings, manipulations.

A/N: purely an excuse to write for submissive Coriolanus. I love me a controlling obsessive man, but I love him more on his knees crying.

Coriolanus Snow who decided getting a cute rich girlfriend would help him in life. He wouldn't love her, he'd discard her immediately the moment he managed to get into university with the plinth prize or if he simply found someone better.

Coriolanus Snow who saw you and your sweet smile and charming innocent eyes and decided that you were going to be his personal piggy bank.

Coriolanus Snow who tries charming you with pretty words and gentlemanly actions, providing as much as he can muster with his unexistable budget. An occasional white rose or a pretty origami would be thrown your way, but that's as far as he could afford to go.

Coriolanus Snow who realizes too late you are a snake like him.

Coriolanus Snow who gapes in horror at you in your lavish room at your parent's penthouse after you reveal it all to him. Telling him how you saw his thinning frame and hollow cheeks, the acidy breath from hunger and the lack of presents or money spent on you had given him away. It was all a hypothesis but his reacting confirmed it.

Coriolanus Snow who is frozen in place, his deepest fear of getting closer to someone and having them find out of his poverty hidden in plain sight made his pale skin loose all semblence of color.

Coriolanus Snow who is on the verge of dropping on his knees and begging(he should) but you run a hand along his jaw and propose a deal. He is the smartest boy in the Academy, presentable and well mannered, he will continue to be your boyfriend and you will keep your mouth shut and wallet open for him as long as he plays by your whistle. It was left unspoken that if he stepped out of line you would air his dirty laundry with no hesitation.

Coriolanus Snow who becomes your personal dog, no matter how much he hates it. You wrote him a check to buy his family some food and pay his rent, as a starting sum, with one of your credit cards.

Having a pretty smart boyfriend was a dream come true for you. Having said boy and holding an unimaginable power over his every move was all you ever wanted. You and him shared the same poison, the same thirst for power, you knew that. But he hadn't, and that is what brought him to his demise.

He lost the battle. He lost the war.

Coriolanus Snow who does all the stereotypical "perfect boyfriend" things. He carries your books, opens the doors for you, pulls your chair out, kisses your forehead sweetly and holds your hand. He was perfect, at performing in public at least. Behind closed doors he still had his bite, no matter how good he could act his ego got the best of him.

You would break him soon enough

You started it small.

Phase 1:

Giving him small commands first in public, where he couldn't let his bravado fall. Telling him to wait for you, to not move, to lift that, do that, etc. Later you did it when there were people of your age or older around. Clearly showing off the power you had over Coriolanus, he had to obey you, his families apartment depended on it. He wanted to snap and not do it, to show he is in fact his own master, but how will he explain to granma' am and Tigris that they had to live on the street because his girlfriend/sugar mommy was too bossy?

Coriolanus Snow who was left to marinate in his own embarrassment in silence, feeling all eyes on him as people's perception of him change. From a proud heir to one of the most important business for the Capitol to a lovesick boyfriend who was his girlfriends servant, with a smile on his face worst of all. He was starting to get used to it. This had been going on for months now, the habit was starting to get rooted deeply.

Phase 2:

It was still a small jump but you started to give him shorter orders, one word commands, expecting him to know what to do- and he did. You'd say "open" and any door would be trust wide open and held for you. You'd say "hold" and thrust whatever you are holding to him without a spare glance. Maybe in the past he would have thrown the expensive purse or books while looking you dead in the eyes like a statement but now he simply waited for you patiently.

Coriolanus Snow who actually threw your books in a fit of rage once and ended up penniless for a month. He had to come to your house timidly after receiving no calls on the private phone you had bought him and no reply as he blew up your line.(he could only call your number and couldn't add or remove it. who else did he need to contact?)

Coriolanus who had to face greater humiliation than what he was used to, as he walked across the private party thrown by your parents, looking for you. The pitiful looks he got wobbling around in his academy uniform, even outside school as he asked around for you. People must have seen him as a kicked puppy, looking for his owner. It wasn't completely false.

Coriolanus Snow who found you in a secret room pointed to him by your mother who had cooed at him pitifully, used to seeing him waddle after you almost daily. You were sitting on large chair behind a wooden desk, looking over some documents. Your gaze snapped to him as he entereed, the faint yellow light from the lamp illuminated his face and made the miserable look in his eyes and blush in his cheeks ever more evident.

He had gotten to eat so good, first class meals, you'd even send a private chef over to his house to cook for him when he was especially good. He had gotten greedy and now going back to slurping bean juice felt unimaginable.

"Your rent is looking ever the higher. Its not looking good."

He hadn't(didnt) want to think about this as he slept on a cold matress, their heating had run out. He missed the taste of luxury. He would do anything to get it back.

"I made a mistake, y/n."

He knew he should do more. He knew you'd like to see him beg and squirm but he didn't think he could handle any more of this if he did. He had felt so much pressure, so such stress to find some food, to worry about rent, to hide the eyebags under his eyes, the humiliation from tonight was almost too much.

"Come here, Coriolanus."

Your voice rang out cold and commanding, but never demanding. You had too much power over him to demand. You pulled the chair back and it's wheels creaked, you put a hand on your thigh in a wordless command. Coriolanus wobbled a bit shakily, trying to maintain some form of dignity as he walked to you. He came to a halt between your legs, looking down at you and creating a shadow over your form. It should have made him feel better, to be in one way on top, but it didn't, he couldn't delude himself anymore, he knew he had no control.

What had you done to him?

"Kneel"

It took him a few seconds but he dropped slowly to his knees, one leg at a time until he was at eyelevel with your knees, sitting on his hinges, since he knew he'd be down here for a while. He stared stubbornly into your eyes, his pale blue eyes shone almost angelically paired with his pink lips. Your pretty puppy, it almsot made you smile. It almost made you forgive him, almost.

"You disobeyed me, Coriolanus. I told you there would be consequences."

"I know, y/n, i know, i wont do it again. I promise."

"I dont believe you."

You say and pick the document you had been reviewing before. You bring them close enough so he can read them too. They were charts and documents of increasing rent money for the apartment building his penthouse was in, the wages of the workers where Tigris worked, a paper with the retirement money his grandma got, paper with the money the country gave him as a compensation since he had lost both of his parents. All the money that his family got and had to spend.

Coriolanus who skims the papers but even the breif look of the numbers told him what he already knew.

He had no future without you. The Hunger games had gotten canceled this year since the death of Felix, the presidents son, the Plinth prize had gotten withdrawn. He had nothing, he could do nothing.

"I gave you everything, Coriolanus. Was your pride worth your future?"

He feels his gaze get hazy, the panic was starting to set in. He had come here to get you back, sure that he would be able to do it, but now he could almost taste your rejection. He was starting to get scared and panicked. He needed you.

"It wasnt- it isnt. Y/n, I made a mistake, plase forgive me. I wont do it again."

He shuffles closer to you subconsciously, looking up at you as his voice grew hoarse. His pride long gone, thrown out the moment he saw the consequences. You place a soft hand on his hair, gripping it gently and he feels the golden ring on your finger, the one with your family's crest made from pure gold, rest heavily on his scalp. You tilt his face up to look at you.

"Beg. Show me how sorry you are."

His mouth opened immediately, no hesitation to beg for you. Maybe he should feel shame to be thrust into this position but all he felt was hope. If you were willing to hear him out it means there is some chance he could get you back.

"Im sorry, y/n, im so sorry. I was stupid, i was greedy, i was arrogant. I wont do it again. Im yours, please"

He hadn't realized he had started crying until his tears pooled and fell, warm and salty, against his lips and on the material of the chair, his long blond lashes clump togetger and his lips redden, the tear streaks down his cheeks and neck glisten in the light and he looks like a painting.

You decide you like him like this best, begging at your feet and crying for your love.

You coo at him sympatheticly even as a smile tugs the corners of your lips. You caress his beautiful locks of hair and wipe his tears away only to lick your fingers.

"My poor baby, no need to cry. Im here now, you remembered where you belong, its okay now, you are okay now."

His breath grows labored and his face twists in pain as more tears follow, he burries his face into the bare skin of your inner thighs and sobs loudly. All the stress had caught up with him. The responsibilities, the fear, the hunger, the thought that he'd lose his anchor, the thought he'd lose you.

Your guidance, your attention, your love. He didn't need to worry anymore, he didn't need to fret and plot to stay at the top, simply being known as your lover was enough. You were the second richest family in Panem, after the President. Coriolanus held much more power than he ever had on his own. People respected him more and he got the cushiony life he had always dreamt of.

He was safe.

His family was safe.

You let him cry, cooing calming words of reassurance as you caress the nape of his neck and the curls of his hair. His big shaky hands envelope your thighs and he holds onto them for dear life.

You knew he would come crawling back once he saw that you meant business and weren't bluffing. It had taken him longer and you respect his resilience but he had funaly come to his senses and back into your arms. A part of you felt a pang of empathy for him, for the poor boy underneath all the masks and facades he had on to survive in this world. You knew when it came down to it he would have murdered him, to remain the shell of the person he is. You don't feel bad for Snow. You felt bad for Coriolanus.

Poor, caring, driven Coriolanus, who might have been good if not for the poison and hunger and fear he had been forced to shoulder.

But you are here now, so he wouldn't have to worry anymore. He can be good. You'll make sure he is your good boy.

Phase 0:

Coriolanus is a smart boy, he probably could predict all the steps of manipulation you had come up with, what he probably hadn't anticipated were the rewards. The additional money, delicious food, new clothes, you'd even found a better job for Tigris (not good enough to pay for the rent ofc). The small touches you'd offered him and the lack of discrimination against his poverty. You'd treated him good and given him a lot.

How could a boy who's only had things taken from him begin to expect anything else? The mentality of take or lose had kept him alive this long, but maybe you wanted to give. He had shared with you in a night of vulnerabilities about his family. How his mother and unborn sister died, hiw his father died, how he was left with only his grandma and Tigris almost broke to survive.

Coriolanus had a lot of potential to be your loyalest dog or biggest enemy depending on how you let him flourish.

That's why you had bought him a phone to call only you, made him dependant only on you, talked with your parents and together you'd managed to cancel the Hunger games, throwing all the district tributes back in their homes, far far away. Especially Lucy Gray, the songbird who was on her way to charm Coriolanus. How you'd agreed the money from the plinth prize should be used on fixing the damage done by the rebelion bombings.

Coriolanus wasn't a good person.

You were simply better at being bad.

[malehypnofantasy]

"Oh c'mon lil bro, you think I'll let you go to your classes without getting you well-fed with my cum? It's the least I can do as your hunk, dumb and full of cum older bro. Go kneel, quick, before mom and dad found out about your shady little dealings tinkering with my brain and hypnotizing me into totally okay with you going at it with my dick,"

Uggghhh I really love my hunk, dumb, full of cum older bro. I need to strengthen my power during this upcoming winter break to the point that my parents also fall to my control. I need them to be totally unphased with my homophobic older bro spraying his cum to my throat in the middle of the living room or letting me do whatever kinky shit I want to do with him. But let's make this one quick first, I have one more Professor Arnalds class to attend anyway

[m00nsflesh]

Eris and (Manipulation) Milo because I love the game so much!! I can't recommend it enough

@perfectlovevn

[starryzzz]

okay and what if i said i was in love with edward norton...

[tvxcue]

silver arguing with flint abt how convenient it was for him that the gold just "disappeared" and forcing flint to ask him for help while KNOWING the gold is still Right There and he is actively lying abt it.......he's literally hilarious.

[witherfide]

ugh Im so sick of them. (ive dug myself into a pit so deep analyzing their mind that we are starting to blend into one) ((they. are not ..REAL ))

[doflamingadonquixote]

Even the devil was once an angel | [2/?]

Summary: You are a psychiatrist and decide to play a dangerous game with the worst of criminal minds. Or: you're a bit bored too.

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Fem!Reader

Chapter word count:

Warning: +18, mind games, angst and smut, hurt/comfort, stalker!Moriarty (Jim Moriarty is his own warning)

Previous Chap: 1

James Moriarty decides to show up assiduously for every appointment. You find a change in the tenth session.

You didn't think the consulting criminal was so competitive when it came to winning a bet on his superiority. You had, by mutual agreement, arranged two days a week where he was to come to your office and at the appointed times.

You had no intention of accepting his offer to give you an entire attic just for his sessions. The egocentric little bastard had to be a real patient if he wanted to continue playing the game.

After several positive feedbacks in putting stakes in your relationship, you had ventured to put a time limit on your work.

You had asked for a year, a year without having the pressure and the unawareness that, at any moment, Moriarty might shoot you in the head.

He simply laughed at you and rejected your request with a: "Where would be the fun in that?".

By studying him, confronting him, listening to him you had come to the conclusion that he was seriously suffering from a psychopathic personality disorder.

He often enjoyed constructing stories. And with those stories he would put you in great difficulty.

He was so adept at lying that when he finally asked you: "Truth or lie?" You were faced with a Pandora's box that you didn't know whether you wanted to open.

Another thing that made you curious and confirmed your assumptions was the nervous jerks that lit him up like a fuse. You thought you heard your secretary knocking things off the desk, out of the office, when Moriarty's scream came suddenly.

Even so, with a few more sittings, you had managed to avoid touching any sore buttons that would upset the man in front of you.

He always sat at your desk, creating a position of authority over you and often played with the objects distributed on the surface.

You lowered your eyes and found the pencils neatly and straight, arranged next to the laptop. He had already been inside for several minutes and they were still there, neatly arranged.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tennis ball bouncing violently against said pencils, breaking the order, and then landing on your lap. 

You tried to hold back a smile as you lifted the toy and brought it before your eyes.

Another thing you'd discovered about Jim Moriarty was how much he loved disorder and chaos, and that anything that wasn't to his mental standards had to be torn down.

“So, doc, truth or lie?”

He rocked back against the swivel chair, terribly discombobulated as he let his back slide down.

You opened the notepad on which you had jotted down summary diagrams to help you determine the information he had given you during the session. He tried to peek from your position, raising his posture slightly, but you lifted the notebook so that he would not read.

“You're not a maths professor but you probably wish you were, considering the way you frowned when talking about the poor university performance, almost as if to remedy it.”

Moriarty crossed his hands over his belly covered by a dark blue linen shirt and gloated at your deductions.

“It's not true that you have contact with your family, your lack of empathy and your criminal record would prevent you from having relations with them.”

His offended sigh distracted you from your next remark. He had an exaggeratedly shocked expression on his face and his right hand had risen to rest where, you presumed, his heart lay.

“I'm offended, doc. I pride myself so much on the relationship I have built over the years with my little brother.”

Your eyes focused on the notebook to prevent the criminal from understanding your reaction and, to make it more believable, you made more of a circle around the word 'brother'.

Moriarty sneered as he straightened in his chair.

“But don't bother conferring with the old Ice Man. I've been very thorough in erasing traces of the past.”

You gave him a sad smile that hid the strong sense of disappointment.

“Ever heard of attorney-client privilege, Mr. Moriarty?”

He made a thoughtful groan but didn't add anything else. 

You really believed that the therapy was progressing at the right pace. Moriarty had even gone so far as to turn his conversations into something very close to a confession.

But suddenly, the perfectly mapped out road you had built up to that moment collapsed in on itself and you with it.

That day you were quietly listening to the reflections of one of your young patients. He was one of those somewhat hesitant ones, who are never quite sure whether to say the right thing or not, so building up a sort of confidence had taken you many weeks.

And James Moriarty had probably managed in two seconds to overwhelmingly destroy it.

That day he entered your office with a frightening carriage, leaving behind your secretary's frantic pleas for him to politely stay out of the session and wait.

His footsteps were heavy and for the first time you found him locked in one of his best dark suits.

He crossed the threshold and dropped into his usual chair, placing his leather shoes on your computer on the desk.

“They're unbearably fucking boring!” He dropped his head back, colliding with the backrest and sighed audibly. “How can you be so blind to such a clear clue!”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger as you watched the young secretary look from Moriarty to you with a startled and agitated expression.

In addiction, the boy on your couch had curled in on himself, and he too had his gaze focused on the newcomer.

Swallowing the lump that had blocked your breath for a few seconds, you forced your body to react in the most natural way possible.

With an apparent calm, you stood up and offered your hand to your client who took it, albeit hesitantly.

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Thomas, but it seems I have an emergency to attend to.”

You walked him to the door, reassuring him that the session would not be paid for and to make an appointment as soon as possible with your secretary. You left him in her care and closed the door with a snap.

Showing menace towards the most dangerous man in London, and (why not) perhaps the world, wasn't the smartest thing you could do, but James Moriarty had quickly gotten under your skin, irritating you to the point of exhaustion.

Your fists clenched spasmodically and you could feel your nails pushing painfully against your palms. Your cold face changed to an offended and furious frown as you watched the man at your desk.

“I am quite sure Lucia informed you that I was busy.”

You finally caught his attention and he arched his neck to look at you.

“And I'm supposed to care about that?” He asked undisturbed, as he probed you from head to toe. He was probably enjoying your first human reaction to his person. 

“It should.” You bit your tongue to avoid adding that you doubted his respect, however, and moved a few steps closer to prevent your words from reaching those outside the door.“He is a patient in real need of assistance and you have interrupted his time, Mr. Moriarty.”

He shrugged, sneering. 

“So am I, didn't you hear what I said earlier?”

He was clearly poking at you now, and you were getting pulled in.

“To you this is all just a stupid game. A way to fill the void that your, oh so immense, knowledge cannot fill.”

You spat out the words in anger and judgment, which didn't suit you at all and was extremely unprofessional.

He raised his hands as if a weapon had been pointed at him and you feared his sniper would threaten you again at any moment.

“Forgive me, doc, for giving you that feeling. What can I do about it?” His voice was clearly mocking.

“Get those shoes off my desk and sit on the couch like any fucking therapy patient.”

Your throat suddenly went dry, preventing you from hurling yourself at Moriarty again and, in the several seconds of silence that sliced the air, the criminal got up and went to sit comfortably in the armchair you had so quietly suggested to him.

You remained staring at the empty desk for a few seconds until a shaky, uncertain breath finally left your constricted lungs. 

You analysed yourself. James Moriarty had taken you by surprise. You had not pre-set your attitude, which helped keep the man from reaching your personal sphere as a human being and not as a doctor. 

And by barging in like that he had managed to get around the barrier and intrude.

You raised a hand, massaging your forehead and pinching the base of your nose as if to regain some semblance of self-control.

“I apologise for my behaviour. I stepped out of character.”

Moriarty was looking at you intently and for the first time you thought he was taking you seriously.

Your back touched the chair you were sitting on a few minutes earlier and you sighed.

“The robot attitude wouldn't hold for long, I assure you. I like you, doctor. Maybe we can be friends.”

His comment made you laugh unwillingly.

“I'm your analyst, not your friend.”

“One doesn't exclude the other, does it?”

You opened your notebook but didn't comment. His words suddenly seemed very real to you, very meaningful. Moriarty had always been good with words, with his eyes, with his body language.

Stupidly, in the midst of his complaints about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, you wondered what it would be like to be friends with an internationally known criminal.

[wren-was-here]

the way i could write a series of essays on the casual misogyny in the criminal minds fandom

[malehypnofantasy]

He's a straight father of two beautiful kids, but when your control already reached the depth of his mind, those kids or even his beautiful wife cannot contain the chokehold you have over him. So yes, he certainly sniffed your used underwear in his spare time back at home while constantly lashing out to his own wife that she's nothing but a beard for him. That he's obsessed with a lot of his own coworker, especially you, and he's going to be thrilled if she just give up and leave, which means freedom for him to pursue his true love.

When confronted by the confused yet raging missus, you simply acted like a fool, not knowing that her husband is that obsessed with yourself, or so you claimed. You even stressed the fact that you have a husband of your own and already been married for almost a decade.

"Why would I cheat and defiled the sanctity of my own marriage, Mrs. Rivera?" you said pompously with no shame as if you didn't put a mind-altering spell on that straight man

And she tearfully left the confrontation, followed by leaving her husband and back to her parents house while he eventually moved in with you and joined the 3 other men that lived in servitude to you and you only.

Lucky that your first conquest is an heir to a real estate empire, the penthouse you lived in for the past few years is spacious enough to contain the sexual exploration you have with all men of yours.

[bricktoasts]

IT'S TOO MUCH TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND

teen-a-day [sr. portrait edition] – day 2 + 14. jaylen batbayar, rebel and loner ☆彡 <- previously | next ->

[doloridis]

u know what. i am tired of the idiots in the tags acting like alicent was out of line expecting aegon to be the heir when literally any other noble woman who married the king and gave him a son would expect the exact same thing

[goldenlaquer]

Bitch, you better embrace the fact that you are great and wonderful and is a blessing to this undeserving world. All your writings and drawings are the source of happiness and joy and delight to multiple people from all around the world. You are one very important cutie patootie. Every interaction with you fills people you've spoken to with overflowing sense of comfort and the feeling of not being alone in this cruel and cold world. I am not joking when I tell you you'd better take these words to heart. I have Seiji on speed dial, and I won't hesitate to suck his dick in exchange of him giving you some good old psychological therapy on the topic of self-love and self-validation. I know he is not a shrink but he is the only doctor I know, so you'll have to settle for him

HEYYYYYYY BROTHER WHAT IS DISSSSSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Im crying and laughing im craughing 😭😭 Lord you can’t fathom how very deeply i feel at this present moment, why would I need that bastard when I have you? Your sweet words and incredible humor has set me just right— thank you so much for the gift 🥹❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[urcoololderbrothersgf]

it was never that serious, it just ruined my life for a little bit

[hazelnut-u-out]

i feel like rick sanchez would unironically listen to speed gang and i won’t be explaining further.