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slasherscream · 3 months

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Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

#crazy ass girls gang #tiffany valentine x reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine #tiffany valentine imagine #jennifer check x reader #jennifer check imagine #ginger fitzgerald x reader #carrie white x reader #nancy downs x reader #thank you ty and oak for helping me place these guys i was in the trenches #im still in the trenches right now because im down BAD i want them all in a way that #MUST be studied by scientists this shit ain't normal #sorry if this makes me look gay it's because i am #got a little lost in the sauce with ginger HELLO???

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

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kiss me on the dance floor ; remus lupin x reader

➻ yayay first remus fic !! happy valentines!!!!!!! (my fav holiday <33)

➻ word count: 2071

➻ synopsis: you and remus keep meeting when you have to hold your friend's hair back at parties; it turns out to be effective bonding time

➻ warnings: alcohol & being drunk, drug use/being high (minor), mentions of vomiting, swearing, kissing, fluff

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You liked parties a very normal amount. You weren’t massively into drinking or staying out all night every night, but you liked to dance and you liked spending your weekends with your friends, so you ended up at most of the parties thrown around Hogwarts. The best of these were the ones thrown by the Gryffindors; they had the best music, the best booze, and usually the cutest boys.

On one fateful Friday evening you were attending one of the aforementioned Gryffindor parties — this one specifically in honour of Halloween. You and your group of friends had all decided to go together, coordinating outfits to be Charlie’s Angels from the muggle television show. Looking and feeling good you’d all enjoyed the party to its fullest, spending the long hours of the night dancing and drinking. That was, until your best friend, Jen, began to appear more shaky than upright, and you knew exactly what was coming.

You grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd, mercilessly elbowing guys out of the way when they tried to start conversation.

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” You shouted at James Potter, who pointed you along to a hallway leading off into relative darkness. You tried to hurry the both of you along, hoping to spare your friend the embarrassment of vomiting all over the Gryffindor common room, and you could have kissed the ground for making it in time if it wasn’t so grimy. The crisis directed your focus until you were absolutely sure Jen had made it over the bowl and her ponytail was safely in your hands. After the urgency had somewhat worn off your eyes could take in the rest of the room, noticing there were already two inhabitants in the room, one hunched over the sink.

Remus Lupin was the one holding back the other’s hair, which gave you a pretty good indication it must have been Sirius Black. Remus was already looking at you when you locked eyes and you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey,” He said, patting a hand on Sirius’ back to soothe him.

“Hi,” You replied. You’d never spoken to him properly before despite being in school together all these years, but you supposed now was as good a time as any.

“How are you liking the party?” Remus asked and you almost laughed.

“Well the party itself is just fine — the Gryffindor music is almost always better than Slytherin’s EDM shit. Can’t say I’m as pleased with my current job, though.” You seemed to have amused Remus judging from the snort he released and you felt a flash of pride.

“I’ll take your compliment, it’s almost always my records James puts on for parties,” Then he lowered his voice to a stage whisper, “But I never lend him my Bowie records — they’re basically my children.”

“That’s not true, Moons,” Sirius interrupted, momentarily pulling his head up, “He was playing my Zeppelin tape before.” Remus gave him a smile similar to one you might give a child when you know you need to acknowledge what they’re saying but knew they were talking complete nonsense. You decided to focus on Remus’ earlier statement.

“I love Bowie!”

Once you’d found some common ground the conversation was easy. You sat for almost half an hour, the two of you chatting lightly whilst feeding your respective friends water and waiting until they were ready to be upright again. You almost dreaded leaving the gross toilets, your unexpected meeting with Remus becoming the surprise highlight of your night. You hesitated at the door.

“We should get going. The rest of our friends are probably worried,” You trailed off awkwardly, unsure of how to end your acquaintance.

“It was nice talking to you,” Said Remus, “Despite the, uh,” He gestured at the location. You laughed, nodding.

“Well, if you’re anything like me, I’m sure I’ll see you next time.” With that you and Jen said your goodbyes, waving at Sirius and Remus before darting into the crowd to find the rest of your roommates.

You saw Remus again sooner rather than later. Not at the Slytherin party the next Friday — the Marauders refused to go on principle — but at the Ravenclaw one the weekend after to celebrate their quidditch win. This time he was comforting Peter, not Sirius, and you didn’t even know the girl you’d accompanied into the bathroom. You were pretty sure she was a year or two below you, but you didn’t want her to be all alone while she was drunk.

Remus smiled softly as you explained that to him, getting so invested in your storytelling that he momentarily loosened his grip on Peter’s sandy mop. You both winced at the dull thud of his forehead hitting the toilet bowl. He simply laughed, which in turn made both you and Remus laugh, states possibly heightened by substances but you weren’t admitting anything. Your laughter subsided and you looked at Remus quietly, scrutinising his face. You liked talking to him, he wasn’t nearly as mean as his resting bitch face or the rumours made him seem. In fact he was quite nice, complimenting your outfit and giving you pointers when you started whining about the essay you were procrastinating.

It started to become a habit, the two of you meeting like that at parties and ending up hiding in the toilets for longer than was strictly necessary to take care of your respective friends. After three instances you were pretty confident you could even call him a friend, the interactions lasting outside of the singular moments at parties.

The first time he’d acknowledged you in the light of day with a wave as you passed him in the hallway you were too stunned to return it, only able to spare him a backwards glance when he had already passed. You had to ask the roommate you were walking with if it was even directed at you. Remus, in turn, was on the verge of humiliation when he thought he’d totally misread your interactions for something more than just necessity, quietly devastated when you didn’t return his greeting and interpreting it as you not actually wanting to be friends.

You managed to ease his worries the next time you bumped into him, a shy but excited “Hi, Remus!” when you passed him entering your shared potions class. You didn’t stay to watch his friends make a ridiculous fuss over the minute interaction, Sirius in particular knowing exactly what was going on. But you were glad you were becoming real friends nonetheless, the prospect of possibly talking not in a greasy toilet sounding very appealing.

Despite the introduction of small ‘hellos’ and waves when you crossed paths, your schedules were hardly aligned, so most of your relationship was confined to the parties you attended. Neither the Marauders nor your own friend group were ignorant of the two of you becoming individually more eager to attend these parties, and you could have sworn they’d started exaggerating their drunkenness to get you two to spend more time with each other.

A Valentine’s Day party in February had you dressed in your prettiest pink and white dress, the Gryffindor common room the perfect venue for a red-themed party. You’d been enjoying the party itself; you’d come up with a game where you guessed which music belonged to which Marauder — the best tracks were always Remus’.

When Jen tugged on your arm saying she was feeling sick far too early in the night you raised an eyebrow, but you weren’t going to be the arsehole who let her be sick on her own. And so you participated in the near-weekly ritual of steering her through the crowd towards the bathroom you were now well acquainted with.

For the first time in a while you were the first two in there. You stared at Jen curiously. She wasn’t exactly retching over the toilet despite the act she’d put on earlier. You were just trying to figure out how to ask the question when the door pushed open, and in walked Sirius and Remus. You could have sworn Sirius had winked at Jen, but you were too enamoured by Remus to be focusing on anyone else. Sirius at least had the decency to commit to his performance, leaning over the sink, occasionally groaning half-heartedly.

You and Remus took your customary places next to each other, periodically rubbing your friends’ backs lightly. You made light conversation with him, enjoying the way he got when he was high. His eyes became softer, hazel shining through as he locked eyes on you. Your favourite was his smile though, dopey and eliciting easy giggles at every joke you made. You were engaged in a passionate conversation about aliens when Sirius groaned louder than his pre-vomit sounds.

“Merlin, would you please just kiss already! Moony’s mooning over you!” He cried, and you watched as Remus face flushed an adorable shade of red. You assumed yours probably matched, but you were at least handling it better than the boy across from you, who looked like he wanted to drop dead in that moment. You couldn’t contain your giggle, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and lessen Remus’ embarrassment. You set your eyes on Sirius instead.

“I’m not kissing anyone in the fucking bathroom, no matter how cute they are.” You chanced a wink at Remus, then followed Jen out of the bathroom, trying not to betray how flustered you were by your own actions.

The two of you giggled all the way back to the rest of your friends, who were promptly filled in on the story and let out similar shrieks. A glance over at Remus’ friends showed them already looking at you, James Potter with a delighted expression on his face. You turned away and missed Remus’ friends hyping him up, Peter handing him a full-looking shot for confidence.

The next thing you knew, a hand slung around your shoulder. You looked up, smiling when it was the slightly dazed frame of Remus Lupin, giving you a fond grin.

“Wanna dance?” You were surprised at his request, everyone knew Remus Lupin hated dancing. And yet, here he was dancing with you to Pink Floyd as your friends made kissy faces when he wasn’t looking. You were just happy to be spending time with him not on the bathroom floor.

You were about four songs in and you could tell that Remus was tired but you were still puzzled as to why he hadn’t sat down yet. You were pretty sure even his high was wearing off which would ordinarily be an indication it was time for him to leave. But he was here. For you. You were about to question him when he leant down so his mouth was right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“I know you said you wouldn’t kiss me in the bathroom, but how about a dance floor?” You could feel your jaw drop open.

“I… would say that dance floor is a green zone.” You smiled. You watched him return it, so close you could see every fleck of colour dancing around his eyes. He closed the distance first, scooping you up into his arms and kissing you with such fervour you could only imagine how long he’d been waiting for it. You returned it just as eagerly, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip to deepen it as you’d daydreamed about in class just days ago.

A frightening yell came from behind Remus and you both pulled away to investigate, rolling your eyes when it was just Sirius — clearly smashed but surprisingly wholesome in his celebrations of you and Remus finally taking some action. His heavy hand clapped Remus on the shoulder, rambling nonsense that emphasised how long it had taken the two of you to bite the bullet. Both of you ignored him, stuck in ignorant bliss, sneaking kisses between bouts of laughter.

All in all, it was a pretty decent Valentine’s Day — not actually needing to clean any throw-up was just an added bonus.

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