#idk this thought just came to me a few weeks ago so I thought I’d throw it out there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

henry7931 · 6 months ago

Text

Haunted By A Horny Ghost

Travis:

6 months ago, I purchased my house and I got an amazing deal for it. Granted I’ve heard some of the rumors about it being haunted but I don’t really believe in that stuff. Or I didn’t until now!

I’d hear an occasional creaking of the stairs or some noise in the hallway. I always told myself that I’m just getting worked up from some made up story. And at no point did I actually see any evidence, no shadow figures, objects floating, idk things ghost do.

And I have a lot of personal stuff going on, being single and young can be tough. And I have a lot of bills to pay.

But a few weeks ago, my step dad’s nephew Brad (or my step cousin) came to me after a bad break up and needing somewhere to live— I figured a roommate for a little bit could help me save up some cash.

Brad is your typical straight guy, loves sports, goes to sport bars at night when he’s not at his construction job.

I figured living with him couldn’t be that bad. That said, in practicality he’s a bit of a slob at home and his room is a mess. Dirty laundry laying everywhere, he brings over his buds and girls over for late night hook ups. He can be a bit of a pain at times but I have to remember that I’m getting half of my mortgage paid right now.

But one night, Brad came home late like 2 in the morning. I was still up myself. I was supposed to have a guy come over that night since I knew I had the place to myself but unfortunately he cancelled last minute.

So I was a little drunk and horny. When I heard the Brad’s Uber pull up, I peaked out the window to see if he brought anyone home. Luckily, it was just him clumsy climbing out of the car.

As I watch him approach the door, I see him struggling to get it open.

I roll my eyes, I guess I’ll help him out.

I head to the stairs, when I hear the door finally open up. I start to turn back around when out of nowhere I hear Brad screaming on the top of his lungs.

I rush down the stairs only to see something that I never thought I’d ever see…

Brad is standing by the shut door while astral smoke shaped like a person forces itself down his throat.

Unsure what to do, I stood frozen in one spot. I watched whatever was forcing itself into Brad go all the way into him.

His eyes close… and then reopen. He takes a deep breath of air.

“God it feels so good to breathe again! Wait a minute, am I drunk??”

He starts laughing to myself and I try to back up. I take my back leg and try to step backwards. But the floor are wooden and old. As I step back, he hears it and looks directly at me.

“Oh it’s you! Travis right?”

“Ahhh shit!!!”

I rush up the stairs running in a panic. All I can hear in the background is Brad’s voice saying, “Wait!!! Stop running!!”

I get to my bedroom, I lock the door and try to think of a game plan to get out.

I look around my room, think to myself— I could tie my sheets together and go out the window.

That’s when I hear a knock.

“Travis, it’s me. I don’t know what all you saw but can we talk?”

What can I do? Risk the chance of breaking my neck by going out the window or reason with the ghost now inhabiting Brad not to kill me.

“Travis! I promise I’m not going to hurt you!! Please open up!” he says banging louder.

I look around my room for something I could use as a weapon but unfortunately the only thing I can find is a clothing hanger.

“Hey im going to open up but you better not try anything funny!” I say back to him holding the hanger in hand.

“You have my word, I won’t harm you.”

With the coat hanger in one hand, I carefully unlock the door and open it.

Standing outside of the door is Brad’s body, grinning at me.

“Well hi, what are you going to do with that coat hanger?”

“Protect myself!” I blurt out.

He starts laughing at me and says, “well fyi if you hit me with it you’re just hurting this guy. Plus, he’s a lot taller than you.”

“Fuck, fine.”

I lower the coat hanger and let him come in.

He glides into the room and he seems to be enjoying himself.

I watch him and he eventually says to me, “so ask the question you want to know the answer to.”

“Huh?”

“I know you want answers, so ask.”

“Okay… are you a ghost?”

“Yes”

“And is Brad still alive?”

“Also, yes— he’s in here but in like a dormant state while I drive.”

I feel somewhat realized to know that Brad’s okay.

“So why are you possessing Brad when I’ve been here longer.”

“Well who’s to say I haven’t possessed you?”

“WHAT?!?”

“Kidding, no Brad’s my first time taking over someone. I honestly wasn’t sure if it was due able but I did it! The real question you should be asking is what made me choose tonight to try and take over Brad.”

“Okay, why tonight?”

“Well… Travis, I’ve been watching you since you moved in. I hope that’s not too creepy. Being a ghost and stuck inside a house, leaves me with very little to do. But you and I have a lot in common. Both of us are gay, we share a lot of the same interests. Hell you and I even like the same porn. I guess what I’m saying is that, I have a bit of a crush on you. And after seeing you get stood up tonight, I felt like you deserve someone to uhh— keep you company.”

I was shocked, not only has a gay ghost been watching me for over six months but he’s now flirting with me?

“Sorry if this is a bit much but I find you to be so attractive. And now that I have a body, I was hoping you would be down to have a little fun together.”

“Uhhh I don’t know what to say, it’s a bit strange since that is Brad’s body.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t sneak into his room the other week and take his dirty socks just to jerk off while inhaling them.”

“Oh god you saw me do that?”

“Yeah and it was hot as fuck! Listen, I know Brad’s body may not be your first choice but he’s straight guy cute. And I know you’ve thought about him in ways you’d normally wouldn’t admit. But right now, I’m in control of him and you can do whatever you want with me.”

He starts pulling off all of Brad’s clothes until he’s fully naked. I can’t help but stare at Brad’s massive dick swinging between his legs.

He gets into my bed and reaches for Brad’s cock. He gingerly play with it while watching me.

“Travis, please join me. This cock is so eager right now, you can smell my big stinky feet. I haven’t bathed all day…”

He runs brads fingers between his taint and balls. He lifts up his hand and sniffs it.

“Fuccccckkk, you need to come get a whiff of my balls.”

I’m so hard now. I walk over to him and out for Brad’s left foot. I bring it up to my face and sniff it.

I feel myself slowly lose control of the situation and just accept all of the lust running through me.

“I knew you like these feet Trav. Here come taste this cock.”

He holds it up like a prize, I take it out of his hands and press the head of it to my lips.

It’s so warm… I lick the tip of it and rub my tongue down his shaft. When I get to his balls, I take in a breath. Just consuming the smell of them.

“That’s it, doesn’t that smell so good.”

“Mhmmm…”

I pull off my clothes and I notice his eyes go straight to my dick.

“You wanna touch it?” I say to him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch it.”

I come closer to him and he gently touches my dick. He makes a moaning sound and I notice pre-cum leaks out of Brad’s dick.

“You have the handsomest dick I’ve ever seen,” he says to me.

“Thanks haha.”

“No I mean it. You’re so cute Travis. Between your green eyes, brown curly hair, that freckle right above your happy trail, your sexy hairy legs, and those beautiful feet. Can I see them?”

“Sure.”

I let him take my feet into his hands and watch him press them against his face.

I let him lick my soles for a minute before he stops to say, “ you wanna take this up a notch?”

I nod my head and he pulls me in for a kiss. I can taste the whiskey Brad was drinking earlier.

We start making out and both of us are tangled up, our feet rubbing up and down on one another’s legs. Both of us have each other’s junk in our hand.

I feel around until I grab on to one of his butt cheeks.

He let’s do so much to him. Suck on his toes, sniff his pits, play with his nipples… and in return u let him do the same.

By the end, it’s morning. We’ve spent the entire night just edging each other.

By this point, he has Brad’s toes wrapped around my dick and I try to hold back but my cock has been toyed with for over 4 hours now.

I let out this loud moan and streams of cum squirt onto Brad’s feet.

He keeps stroking it with his toes until every last drop has been drained out of me.

He takes Brad’s cum soaked feet and licks every inch of them off.

He calls for me gesturing for me to finish him off.

I grab his dick and force it down my throat. I do it over and over until he immediately comes down it.

Both of us exhausted, lay back in my bed. I cuddled up to him and say, “hey thanks for tonight. By the way, what’s your actual name?”

“It’s Sebastian but you can call me Seb.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Seb.”

I curl up to him and soon pass out.

By one the next day, I wake up and thought last night may have been a weird dream. I look over and Seb isn’t in bed with me.

I get up to go pee and walk past Brad’s room. But to my surprise he’s not in bed.

I walk to the bathroom and see Brad naked looking at himself in the mirror.

He turns around to me and says, “Yo! What the hell Trav, have you heard of knocking?”

“Oh sorry Brad!”

“HAHAHA just messing with you! It’s me Seb.”

I feel blood rushing to my dick knowing that last night wasn’t a dream after all.

I walk over to pee and peak over at Seb.

He’s checking Brad’s body out in the mirror and starts flexing.

“I tried to leave his body this morning but I don’t really know how to…”

“Oh,” I say to him.

“Not that I’m in a rush to leave but I guess I really didn’t think this one through.”

“Well I don’t mind having you around.” I say to him.

I finish peeing and turn around to him. My eyes focus on Brad’s bubbly butt.

I grab his cheek and he lets out a yelping noise. I press my morning wood on his ass and he grins.

“Someone’s perky this morning.”

“I guess I’m just excited to have some more fun with my new ghost friend.”

“Well I have nothing better to do in the after life so I’m all yours for the day.”

I kiss him on his back and say, “whenever you’re done with the mirror come to my room.”

Seb follow me and we start an entire day of fooling around and talking.

I spend hours with his feet with my head at the end of the bed while does the same with mine. Both of us rubbing and playing with each toe. I just love how hairy and smelly they are.

Seb tells me about his previous life, how he used to live here and died from a freak accident one day. He seems like he’s been lonely all of these years.

“It was so refreshing seeing you move in, I was so bored for so long Trav. Then walks in this handsome guy.”

“Well my life hasn’t been too exciting either, I guess you can I’ve been lonely too.”

I feel him tickle my sole.

“Hey!”

“Sorry couldn’t resist!”

Days passed and Seb still could not figure out how to get out of Brad. Which I didn’t know if he was lying or not. I honestly didn’t want him to leave.

And by a month, Seb figured out Brad’s job and all of the things he needed to know to pretend to be him.

3 months in and we’re officially together. Seb loves all of the new video games he’s missed over the last 20 years while I just love watching him.

And we get soooo kinky! I’ll suck him off while he plays some game.

He even lets me tie him up. Which is sooo hot to me.

I’d like to think of that night as a fresh start for the both of us. And I couldn’t be happier with my horny ghost boyfriend!

#male possession #male tf #body theft

403 notes · View notes

in-my-feels-probably · 7 months ago

Note

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone.

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway.

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet.

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled.

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life.

None of them mattered.

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile.

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence.

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels.

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way.

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars.

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye.

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score.

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop.

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you.

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips.

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard.

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you.

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail.

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like.

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better.

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen.

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door.

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting.

The feeling was mutual.

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child.

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest.

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

681 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

Aita for not getting my roommate a birthday gift and insulting them when they got mad about it?

I don’t really think I’m the asshole (or at least the only asshole) but it’s become such a Situation I need some outside input.

So I and my roommate Ollie (both 18, gender irrelevant) have been living together in a college dorm for a couple months now. We aren’t friends, but we’re friendly. We talk a little in passing but nothing more. We get along for the most part, but my main issue is that Ollie has so much stuff.

I’ve lived with it for months but it’s always a mild annoyance. There’s stuff on our bathroom counter, the kitchen counter, always dishes in the sink and their desk is always a mess. We have separate sides of the room and separate spaces for our food and dishes in the sink and for our shower stuff and bathroom stuff but it still drives me crazy because there’s always clutter around. I haven’t talked to them about it because I don’t want them to get mad at me for trying to micromanage them—I don’t know if they would’ve but now they definitely would.

Also, I think we have a pretty big gap in how much money we have. We both have a meal plan so we can eat at the cafeteria on campus but their part of the fridge is always overflowing. They have a ton of expensive and what look like kinda redundant products, like five bottles of perfume on their desk, and I even saw cotton candy grapes in the fridge?? I haven’t been to the store in a while but I don’t think those are cheap. There’s also a ton of Starbucks and takeout food in the trash too. I on the other hand have to save the money I have (a couple hundred) to put towards a summer class. Even if I wanted to get them a birthday gift, I think it would come down to that or, like, gas money to go home for a weekend

Ollie’s birthday was a little over a week ago. They spent the day out with their friends from what I could tell off social media and when they came back they had a few grocery bags and an Amazon box or two, and once they set them down they asked me what I’d gotten for them.

I asked what they were talking about, and they said for their birthday. I told them I didn’t get them anything and then they started mumbling about fake friends and how they were nothing but nice to me and I couldn’t even give them anything in return. I’m not great on social cues so they might have been joking or sarcastic here but I told them they were crazy if they thought I was gonna add to any of their piles of useless stuff around here and called them a hoarder (that may be too harsh but I mean, I saw a Wendy’s receipt from October on their desk last week. It’s February.) They got really pissed and started swearing at me and I forget most of what was said after that but it escalated, we ended up screaming, they left for the night, it was bad.

Since then their friend from high school, we’ll call her Ruby (21F I think) has been blowing up my phone. Telling me I have no right to talk to Ollie like that, that I’m a shitty friend and she ought to just block me (we aren’t friends so idk where this one came from), and told me that apparently Ollie’s mom was some kind of a reclusive hoarder and Ollie has been crying and worrying about becoming like her. I honestly don’t believe this last one because I met their mom when we moved in last September and she seemed like a completely nice person.

Ollie hasn’t been back here. I think they got their essentials while I was in class and is staying with Ruby now, she lives in a building just off campus. I reached out to make sure they were okay and, you know, alive, and they just said “don’t fucking text me I’m fine don’t worry about it.” I have pretty bad anxiety, it’s been six days and it’s still almost all I can think about. I feel like I should apologize but I’m honestly not sure if I’m in the wrong or not. So, aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

163 notes · View notes

borderlinereminders · 5 months ago

Note

greetings! so i got into an disagreement(?) with a coworker last week. i made a comment that my coworker didn't like, it made her uncomfortable so she went to my manager. the manager told me i owe her an apology, but it was a... sensitive topic to say the least and i wasn't prepared for my manager to know about it. i spiraled bad that day, i was sobbing, etc. a couple days later i came into work and talked to my coworker to apologize, and she said that it's just that she (and everyone else as she put it) can't tell me anything without me spiraling and crying. she said that it's just really manipulative. that made me feel awful, so i took space in the breakroom and cried a whole lot. i did at least finish my shift that day but i really do feel awful about it. i guess my question is, how do i *not* manipulate people? i got diagnosed with bpd a few years ago, and i thought i was managing pretty okay but now symptoms are rearing their heads. i don't intend to cry, it just happens. is it my fault that people feel a type of way about it? i try to take space to avoid damaging other people but i guess it's not enough, idk, any advice would be appreciated, thank you <3

Hi anon,

There’s a major difference between someone who intentionally cries to get out of trouble or get attention versus crying because your feelings are overwhelming.

I think you need to be careful not to fall into what a lot of us with BPD fall into… and that’s we have unrealistic expectations of ourselves. We expect ourselves not to do things that people without BPD do. Like getting upset, or having a bad day. We expect ourselves to be more perfect than people without BPD. They’re allowed to have bad days, cry, or otherwise get upset. But we hold ourselves to unrealistic standards as to not “be BPD”.

I don’t know the situation, but I don’t think that was fair of your coworker. It’s on her to manage her feelings, and if she’s feeling a type of way because you’re having a very normal emotional response, that’s on her. Not you.

It would be different if you were trying to use crying to get your way, but you aren’t. Crying is normal. It happens. And I’m sorry you’ve been made to feel you’re wrong for having these reactions.

While she’s valid to be upset about a comment, you’re valid to be upset too. I don’t know what the comment was but I’d be upset because I’d feel “in trouble” and that would set off an anxiety attack for me. Maybe she did deserve an apology. I wasn’t there. I can’t say. But even if she did, I don’t think it was fair of her to call you manipulative for having your own feelings.

I do understand the importance of trying to get through work though. I sometimes use crisis skills to get through things like work so I can properly deal with my emotions later. In my pinned post, there’s a link to my FAQ with a link to DBT skills. The ones I recommend for getting through situations are tolerance skills. Just please remember these aren’t meant to bury your emotions. They’re meant to help you in the moment. Things like grounding techniques especially might be useful.

The other skills might be useful when you’re ready, too. Things like communication ones and ones and ones that might help with emotional regulation because while your feelings are valid, it might help prevent spiralling and being able to handle them in ways that are better for you.

#April answers

28 notes · View notes

ofbluesandyellows · 2 years ago

Text

In Rainbows - TASM! Peter Parker / Reader

Summary: Peter Parker as the colors of the rainbow.

Word count: 5,191

Warnings: swearing, kissing lol idk, it’s mostly fluff. So yeah,

a/n: this is a little something that came to me two weeks ago, hope you enjoy it. Tried to edit it but maybe there are a few errors there, lmk if you see them. Have fun :)

Meeting Peter had been a happy coincidence.

Red was all you could see while the photographs became from white pristine paper into an unknown image. Some were already hanging from the thread up your head while you waited. Fortunately enough you had chosen a moonless night to work on your photos at college. So when the door swung open there was no risk of ruining your work.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Thought it was empty.” A voice said at your back.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done.”

The person stood beside you, eyes scanning your work and you turned to him just in time to see a smile appear on his lips.

“Those are great shots.” He nodded with his head at the photo that was already developing in the transparent liquid. “I was there that night too, they’re a powerhouse.”

The Strokes had an unexpected gig on Wednesday and you had the fortune to get tickets and stand right in the press area to snap a few photos of them. You were really happy with what you got. It made you fill up with pride to hear someone else appreciate what you captured.

“They totally are, you took photos too?” you asked, turning to him, fully looking at the tall boy by your side.

He seemed quite familiar now that you noticed.

“No, a friend got us tickets, just went to have a good time.” He shrugged, putting his backpack on the floor with a thud. “What’s your favorite song of theirs?”

He hadn’t stopped smiling at you. He started to put all his things out on top of the table. His camera, strap still on, the rolls of film and his phone. The screen was crashed and the edges of it battered, it had personality just like him; with his jumper and his tousled hair as if he had run just to make it there in time, as if he knew you could be leaving soon and didn’t want to miss you.

Of course you wanted to pretend that was the reason for his sudden rush a moment ago.

“Well, I’d say the classics of course, YOLO and Welcome to Japan are just gems but I guess from their last album I really enjoyed Ode to The Mets. What about you?”

And it started a full on conversation on your favorite The Strokes’ songs, it was easy to talk to him about music, about art, about playlists and pastries. With each word exchanged you could feel him getting closer to you, arms brushing, laughs shared, eyes making excessive staring, heart beats speeding and hands sweating.

The boy finished hanging his photos, you could see friends laughing, dogs and incredible landscapes of the city. He had a good eye you wanted to tell him but he beat you to it with a new thought.

Casually, he leaned his side on the desk, arms crossed over his chest, pushing his biceps out, yeah you noticed.

“They are doing another show in Brooklyn tomorrow… I got an extra ticket if you… you know… if you wanted to go… I could—we could meet there… I don’t know.” He said eyes going from your face to the rest of the room.

You weren’t sure how but you could notice his whole face going one or two shades darker. It was hard to see under the red lights but the invitation made you feel funny inside, matching with all the rest of your body reactions during the half an hour you’ve been there. You balanced the options; he was sweet, and he was nervous and you were nervous too and you had nothing to lose really.

“Sure, I’d love that.”

And he beamed, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes twinkled. “Great! Cool, so it’s in Brooklyn Steel. There's a subway nearby. If you live in Manhattan I could wait for you there or outside the venue, you tell me, it’s your choice.”

“I mean you can come pick me up, I live in Greenwich… and if you like we could have dinner before.” You felt your heartbeat in your throat.

“Oh…Yeah! Yeah sure, of course I know a pizza place, if you like Pizza of course.”

You chuckled. “I do love pizza, so it’s a date?”

His whole body filled with air and sudden pride. “It’s a date!”

“Cool,”

“Cool…. by the way my name is Peter Parker.”

He laughed, extending his palm, which got your smaller one wrapped perfectly.

You told him your name. “Great to meet you Peter Parker.” and he grinned boyishly.

•••

Orange wasn’t a color you often found yourself leaning towards, it never meant much to you, but it had been six months since you and Peter started to date in a very serious way. So you wanted the day to mean something, an unconscious choice,that was being expressed in an orange outfit, you tried it on and unexpectedly it looked good on you.

Still the color meant nothing much, nothing until he said: “I love you.”

His lips were on the shell of your ear as you waited in line to get some gelato. Peter had his arms wrapped around your middle, he squeezed you a little tighter as his words reached your ear getting seared in your brain, the moment was typical almost ordinary, but it was golden hour and the sunbeams were casting a film of orange peachy tone, your heart somersaulted, belly twisted, and your lips turned upwards in the widest smile you’ve ever given to anyone.

“I love you too,” you responded, turning in his arms, and you kissed Peter on his soft lips, he tasted like honey and something completely Peter’s.

The sunset was upon you. Cherry and choco mint gelato flavored kisses. Peter left a peck on your forehead as he turned up to the sky while you walked down the busy streets of New York, a grin on his cold lips.

“Look, you match the sky.” He pointed.

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked up as peachy skies started to turn slightly bluish on the far end. Peter gave a light tug to the fabric covering your ribs.

You indeed were matching the clouds and the day. From that moment on, orange made you reminisce about the first ‘I love yous’.

Meaning was found in color.

•••

One night as the tv showed the film ‘Big Fish’ Peter found you crying on the couch to the scene where Ewan McGregor’s character had finally found the girl he loved and showed her how much she meant to him by flooding the outside of her house with flowers. The most beautiful act of love you’ve seen in a movie.

You gasped when on your birthday the rooftop of your building was covered in yellow flowers, they probably weren’t as many as the movie had but you loved how the variety of them left a scent of sweetness and freshness in the air as Peter settled a picnic in the middle of the improvised garden, daffodils, roses, daisies, you weren’t even sure how many of them were there but you loved it.

“Over here,” With a flourish he showed you the path to the picnic and you followed him, fingers intertwined.

“Peter Parker you shouldn’t have,” hands on your chest and inevitably your nose tingled, your eyes watering.

Peter gave you a sweet smile.“Of course I have to! It’s your birthday honey, you deserve all the nice, most beautiful things there are in the world and I know the quantity of flowers isn’t near as the ones in the movie but the budget’s a bit tight this week.”

His face went a bit pink as you sat down the plaid tablecloth.

Your heart squeezed. Reaching for his hand, his attention fully on you.

“I love it, everything, even the mismatched set of plates and the fact that you are wearing the most horrible pair of socks I’ve seen.”

Yes, they were also yellow, they had tiny bright green cars printed on them. You snorted as Peter sent you a sharp look.

“What!? These are my good luck socks, I wore them when I met you, that has to mean something.” He smirked, “They're special.”

“That doesn’t mean they are pretty nor cool.”

Peter scoffed, he threw a napkin at your face, “I’ll let it pass because it’s your day. And I love you and respect you too much to start an argument over my styling choices.”

Another snort on your behalf and you didn’t see it coming but Peter launched against you. You both laid on the cloth as Peter held his weight on his elbows to not crush you. Kissing the tip of your nose, then kissing your lips. Soft lips over smiles and low chuckles.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you for being the absolute best.”

And all you saw was Peter’s chocolate eyes, the light freckles forming on his nose thanks to the summer time and a halo of yellow all around you.

•••

Peter had been so scared, literally he thought of cancelling last minute but a talk with May served him well. He loved you and he needed to show a bit of support, especially knowing your family would be there and this was the first Christmas you two spent together.

You two took the subway all the way to Queens. Your mom’s side of the family had this pretty lovely house with a huge garden and one of the biggest kitchens Peter has set foot on.

Peter wasn’t into Christmas but knowing it meant so much for you he made an effort, besides he wanted the rest of your family to like him, to love him if possible. So when your cousin asked you both to babysit littler Tommy while she put her new born baby to sleep, Peter couldn’t say no, and there you three were in the middle of the kitchen decorating gingerbread cookies with the five year old Tommy who had found a liking for Peter very quickly.

Maybe he could feel his Spidey senses too, kids had that kind of ability too sometimes, to predict stuff and shit. Well, Peter read that once so maybe it was true.

Sitting on the kitchen island Peter handed little Tommy a cookie as you put different color frostings on display for them to start their artsy gourmet pieces.

Peter went for something that made him feel too clever, you’ve known for a while anyway.

Red and blue, black lines, white eyes.

“A Spider-Man cookie, really Peter?” your voice was a bit judge-y but Peter saw your smile as you shook your head, and it made him chuckle. “Smartass.”

“Well… It made you smile. But it’s not just a Spider-Man cookie, it’s a Christmas Spidey, right Tommy?”

You laughed as Peter showed Tommy his Spidey-cookie, a Santa hat badly shaped on top of the masked hero. Tommy let out that childish giggle that made the both of you beam at the kid.

“See, Tommy boy appreciates my art, you should do the same, baby.”

Rolling your eyes Peter smirked and continued on decorating cookies with the little boy in front of him.

It warmed your heart seeing Peter getting along with kids, it made you think of the future, and in that moment the thought of a little Peter didn’t sound so bizarre.

“Can someone bring the little bunny I left in the car?!” you heard your cousin call, and just as an instinct you turned to Peter.

“Go ahead, we have it under control right ,Tom?” the kid probably didn’t know what you were talking about but he still gave you a nod.

So Peter saw you leave the kitchen.

At some point during the decorating session, Peter needed the color green to complete his Christmas tree cookie. He only found green frosting inside a transparent plastic bag. With a shrug he took it between his palms.

“It can’t be that hard right Tommy.” The kid with those big doe eyes, grinned at him.

“Do it!” Tommy squealed.

Peter laughed and started doing the edges of this tree.

But the doorbell rang, Tommy jumped in his spot startled, Kiki the dog started barking, everything happened within the same five seconds and Peter– with incredibly enhanced reflexes put a little too much pressure on the bag.

The next thing he and Tommy saw was green, green splashed everywhere in the kitchen specially Tommy’s face and Peter’s shirt.

“Oh,” Peter said in awe.

“Uh oh, you are in trouble!” Tommy said singsonging, pointing at Peter’s shirt. And a second later he started maniacally laughing.

Peter couldn’t help but laugh too. This was definitely not the way he wanted to impress your family but at least Tommy knew how to lighten the mood.

Steps were heard as the two boys in the kitchen cackled louder while they licked their green fingers.

You appeared on the threshold, agape as you saw the explosion of color, snorting you went ahead to try and help the little kid, who only laughed harder at your face.

That was a moment in time that your family always reminded Peter of. Peter felt like he belonged right there and then when everyone made fun of him and Tommy’s green face.

•••

Coney Island was shining prettily against the darkness of the night, Peter had texted you four times to meet him there. He went to check near the cotton candy stand, you weren’t there.

He had been working his ass off for Jonah the whole week, so now that he had free time, he wanted to do something different and fun with you, and what could be more fun than going to Coney Island and getting on those rattly dubious carnival rides?

The carousel was packed with parents and screaming kids, as loud music blasted all around, you weren’t there either, so he kept on walking. A man with a bunch of blue balloons was falling asleep on his spot near a trash can.

Peter’s brain had an idea. He brought a balloon and wrapped it on his wrist. Took his phone out of his jeans and snapped a quick selfie.

Sent it to you instantly.

Peter🕷

I’m the guy with the blue balloon. Hurry up baby I’m starving :(

Two seconds later his hand buzzed and there you were, another selfie you had a blue balloon too.

You 🍯

Matching, now let’s see who finds the other first.

Loser buys dinner.

Peter smirked, he had missed you so much the whole day.

Peter 🕷

Deal. You are so gonna lose,

Forgot I got enhanced sight x

You 🍯

Too much talking Parker

We’ll see about that.

Peter loved a good challenge, and meaning he was getting free food and probably a bunch of kisses was enough incentive for him to start looking.

Five minutes and Peter decided to cheat a little. Hopping on the ferris wheel had been the worst idea ever, his eyes tried to focus on blue balloons but the colorful lights caused the opposite effect, overstimulation to his poor eyes, Peter felt dizzy.

When his ride ended, shoulders slumped, and a defeated sigh escaped him but it didn’t matter. He ran to your arms. Balloons tangling between one another, and Peter didn’t care if he had to buy dinner, he was just so happy to see you there.

“I won!” you grinned, as Peter’s hands found place on the side of your face.

“Yeah I let you.”

“Nah, I saw when you went in there,” you smiled, as he caressed your cheeks with his thumbs.

Peter leaned in to kiss you, it was sweet and full of love.

“I sabotaged myself with those lights, so yeah I let you,” you rolled your eyes and Peter chuckled. “Come on, let’s get rid of these,” he punched his balloon, hitting your face with it.

“Hey!”

He snorted, and kissed your forehead, “Sorry.”

“Just because you are buying dinner, but let’s keep them. This was a good idea to find each other in the crowd.”

“Blue Balloons seem to be better than GPS, right?”

Peter tried to put his arm over your shoulders but the threads of the balloons were too twisted, thread tugged at your wrist wrong, you yelped and Peter grunted.

“Not very practical when I want to hold you closer.” Peter quivered his brows, but neither made the effort to unravel the knots of ribbon.

You simply intertwined your hands and walked down Coney Island ready to eat your weight on hotdogs.

•••

“But baby my love my everything, this is so cool! I can go to work, get there faster, pick you up. We can drive to visit May, your mom! We can go on a weekend trip!”

Your face was a mix of fear and curiosity. The bright motorcycle was parked just outside your apartment building, it was indigo blue and it sparkled when the sun hit the paint. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it was a pretty motorcycle, however…

“But it’s dangerous!”

“But it’s convenient!” Peter put out a helmet from his backpack. “Look, I even bought you one! Come on, let's have a little ride, it’ll be fun.”

“Peter-“

“Don’t Peter me, c’mon”

With his doe eyes Peter persuaded you to do the unimaginable. You hated when he swung you places, the momentum of the web slinging made you want to vomit and you didn’t enjoy fast rides so this felt like a mixture of both things. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you put the helmet on.

“Hold onto me, if I go too fast let me know, okay?”

Your hands surrounded his waist, you weren’t too sure about the motorcycle but you trusted Peter with your life, so you nodded against his back.

“I got you baby.”

The roar distracted you from the sudden movement, eyes closed tightly you felt Peter’s abs clench when he made a sharp turn or when he had to make a stop.

“You okay?”

“I guess… so far,”

“It isn’t that bad, try to enjoy it.”

You both were speaking loud to hear the other through the helmets, but Peter could sense your shaky hands against his stomach and the way you tensed your body on the curves.

But a few minutes later you started to loosen your grip on his body. Your eyes wandered as you moved between the city… Some streets were less trafficked than others but it was nice to feel the wind and the passing by colors. You didn’t even notice when Peter added a bit of velocity, you were immersed in the sensations.

The Brooklyn bridge was ahead, the view of Manhattan was breathtaking at the hour, some street lights were already turning on but the sky still reflected itself on the skyscrapers, mirroring the view.

“Move in with me?”

“What?”

You weren’t able to hear him because of the wind and the helmet.

“That you should move in with me!” Peter shouted.

“What movie?”

“For fucks sake,”

Peter mumbled as he came to a stop. His motorcycle roared still, but the noise was a lot less. Taking the helmet off, he turned around and took yours too.

“I said… move in with me”

Your eyes grew big, a little shocked, “Oh,”

“I mean we already spend pretty much all the time together so I thought… um, never mind, it was just an idea.”

You grabbed his shoulder, “I’d love to. I was just surprised you asked me all of a sudden. But yeah, let’s do it!”

Peter felt relief and a wave of euphoria. He hopped off the motorcycle, helmets hanging from the handlebars. He nestled your face between his hands, kissing you deeply, he smelt like sun, leather and spandex, with a touch of lemon thanks to his shampoo.

“I have everything planned, we can move my desk to the other room and we can make that an office for when you work from home, we definitely need to throw out my mattress, yours is way bigger and more comfy. Oh and we could get a dog, you like dogs I like dogs so why not.”

You were beaming at your boyfriend as he kept on rambling about the new accommodations of the apartment, what breed of dog and if he even had to buy new cutlery.

“It’s alright, we can figure that out later.” The wind swirled around you and it all felt right. Even the oh so horrible motorcycle felt less wrong, like it had to be part of your trip or this decision. “We can also get rid of this indigo monstrosity too,”

Peter furrowed his brow, “I just bought it, come on, it's so cool.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It is not, it’s dangerous and you won’t even use it.”

“Oh I definitely will, I look so hot on it.”

Rolling your eyes you gave him a good reason to not like the motorcycle, “that’s why I don’t want it, people will be looking at my boyfriend a little too much.”

Peter smirked, “oh so you agree I look extra hot on the motorcycle, huh. Knew you liked it, kinky.”

“Oh shut up!”

“You love me, don’t try to deny it.”

You grunted, but a smile slipped on your lips. Peter took the helmet and was about to put it on your head again.

“Love you.” He kissed your forehead sliding the plastic thing, he gave the top of it two knocks, making your head rattle.

“Ouch.”

“Oops,” he put his on and there you were again on the road back to Peter’s apartment, your new home.

•••

Lazy Sunday, as Peter liked to call them. They were pretty much that, after a long night of patrolling, he finally slept until his body couldn’t stand being in bed.

There had been five months since you moved in with him and he couldn’t be happier. You threw a party a month after you were settled in. May made meatloaf as if an army was about to arrive at the apartment, you and he had to eat that for two weeks straight until the last bit disappeared.

Peter didn’t want to see or hear the meatloaf again, like ever in his life.

So lazy Sundays for him consisted of sleeping, working on his laptop, kissing you as many times as he could, washing dishes and watching basketball games. Sometimes he would change a burned out light bulb or fix the sink’s pressure but that day Peter decided to do laundry, it was his turn so he put everything in trying to finish the task as fast as possible.

When you came back from the bakery, with a fresh baguette and a slice of lemon pound cake for Peter, he went into the kitchen to prepare milkshakes at noon.

“We should wait until after lunch time, Peter,” you pointed as you put the dishes in place.

Peter grunted, “we can have early dinner instead, come on you love my strawberry milkshakes.”

And with pouty lips and twinkly doe eyes how could you say no to Peter Parker.

“Fine… but I want mine to be extra creamy!”

“Your wish is my command, baby”

He kissed the top of your head and started to work.

Two hours later Peter was trying to fix some of the coloring and contrast of his photos to send to The Bugle. Kendrick Lamar played through his laptop speakers as he nodded along.

“PETER!”

And Peter flinched on his spot, he sank deeper on the couch, pretending he hadn’t heard you shout his name. Kendrick did a good job trying to make this more believable.

“PETER!”

Shit shit shit

Peter was panicking, he didn’t even know what he had done to get that tone from you, but he wasn’t risking it.

Maybe that was a bad move on his behalf, because when you appeared in the living room with puckered lips and flared nostrils he feared for his life. Not literally but he knew something was coming down.

“What did you do to the washing machine?” you asked him, pretending you were totally chill, calm, but it was obvious you were about to lose it.

“Uh… fabric softener?”

“What else?” your brow cocked and Peter wasn’t sure what his answer should be.

“I—um… clothes…” you sigh didn’t help him solve the puzzle, “listen honey, I don’t know what happened, I just did what I saw you doing, what May taught me.”

Peter half shrugged.

Crossing your arms over your chest you pivoted on your spot, “come see what happened.”

Peter winced, knowing that whatever it was was worse than he imagined.

The little room where the washing machine and the dryer machine were, had all the clothes on display just for him to see. Peter’s eyes widened.

“Oh.” he said. Hands on both sides of his hip bones.

“Yeah oh, now what are we gonna do?”

“I… don’t know, baby.”

Your eyes turned to him, seeing his whole face contracting as he tried his best to not laugh.

“Don’t dare laugh Parker, this isn’t funny, those right there were my best pair of shorts!”

But Peter couldn’t hold it, he snorted and started laughing, until tears were forming on the corner of his eyes. Immediately afterwards you let yourself get involved in the same stupid feeling.

The clothes were violet, not lilac or pink, bright violet. Peter’s suit was the only cloth item that remained in its true colors, red and blue.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Peter was trying to stop laughing but the more he looked at the scene the funnier it became.

“Yeah you shouldn’t have, but you did it.” a little smile tugged at your lips, “at least you’ll have to use violet shirts too, and socks, I mean you wear those horrible yellow socks anyway so I don’t think that would be an issue for you.”

“Oh, not this again,” Peter was grinning, “but yeah right, I don’t care about the socks, violet isn’t my color tho, but it’s what I deserve.”

“Next time wash the damn suit alone”

“I will…” Peter saw you collecting the clothes, his whole body—even when he felt a pang of guilt for the damage he cause—felt alive, happy and eased, this was the most mundane thing that could’ve happened to him today and he was almost grateful for it, because he loved having moments like that with you. Homey, normal and funny.

He loved spending life with you, no matter what happened or what color his underwear was, his life was technicolor since you were in it.

“Did I tell you the same happened to me a couple years back, I told May I washed the American flag, just so she wouldn’t suspect of me being Spider-Man…”

Peter said this between laughs, reminiscing of the past.

“And why didn’t you put it in the washing machine alone..”

“I forgot… I’ll buy you another pair of shorts I promise!”

“Ugh, shut up spider boy!”

•••

Black was all you saw, lying in bed next to Peter as the rain pelted on the windows. His chest was pressed to your back, you being the little spoon.

Peter kissed the back of your neck as his arms wrapped your middle, putting you as near as your bodies could ever be.

You didn’t need light nor words to express how much you cared for him or him for you, it was all in the actions, in the deep breaths he took to inhale your shampoo scent and the still lingering perfume notes on your skin.

It was in the way he made tiny little circles on your stomach, his hands finding a way under your shirt and his lips brushing the skin of your shoulder. You felt his heartbeat at your back and you smiled, Peter made you smile when he was falling asleep and all of a sudden he jumped on his spot, that feeling of falling off the bed when you are getting swallowed by sleepiness.

He grunted and snuggled against you.

Of course he felt your belly wiggle with the silent laugh, but Peter didn’t care his lips only turned upwards, enjoying just the feeling of you between his arms. Your hands found his, fingers tracing the shape of his fingers and the edges of his hand, his trapped yours and it made you giggle, his index and thumb found the new addition in your ring finger.

In the darkness everything felt more personal, this was a reminder of what the future held for you two, secret actions no one needed to know, so you twisted to face Peter as he fixed himself to let you.

The pitch black room wasn’t an impediment, on the contrary it gave you permission to brush your knuckles over Peter’s jaw where a stubble was forming. Your lips found his naturally, Peter was almost out but he let you kiss him, only his hand giving your hip a light squeeze.

Rain was the soundtrack you fell asleep to. Peter your comfort, and darkness, the witness of little moments of joy and love.

•••

White were the balloons, the tablecloths and your wedding attire.

The flowers decorating the space were yellow, they had to be.

Seeing Peter dressed in black with his bowtie and teary eyes at the altar, all you could think of was how fortunate you were, how much you loved him and how happy your life became the moment you saw him under red lights.

Forever promises were made, with more I love yous than one could dare to count, and a bunch of kisses once they let you kiss one another.

“I’ll forever be here for you, you are the joy of my life, the light, the sun, the stars, the moon, my compass and my reason to be who I am.” Peter kept on whispering even after the ceremony. With each word your heart grew a size, you couldn’t believe you felt this strongly about someone.

First dance with Baby I’m Yours by the Arctic Monkeys in the background felt like the right call. Peter made you twirl and you sang to him, as he hid his face on your neck, kissing it lightly.

You saw your mom and May crying at some point; little Tommy became the ring bearer and was even more fascinated by Peter when for his birthday he got a lego collection of none other than Spider-Man.

Cake was lemon sponge and they served strawberry milkshakes along with other alcoholic beverages. Peter and you danced until your feet couldn’t take one more step.

“I love you!”

“No, love you more!”

“Lies,”

“I asked you out, remember? I have dibs.” Peter pinched your nose.

“But I accepted, so I have the last word.”

Peter rolled his eyes, pressed his forehead on yours, eyes connecting with your own. He leaned in, eyes fluttered shut and there; lips collided with so much care, love and softness you could feel fireworks inside you, colorful, fiery, bright and alive.

Loving Peter Parker was like every single one of the colors, everything merging together, forming a rainbow inside your heart.

190 notes · View notes

sirensplayhouse · 2 years ago

Note

hii it’s ‘🪦’ anon. i wanted to come back for a quick second and share some stuff. recently, i’ve manifested so much stuff since i first sent an ask and even before that with only being in this year for two months.

month of janurary in order:

- my parents divorce being over after years (everything working out how we planned). this was also the reason i had got into LOA all those years ago, so i did cry for like a day straight, it was really my wakeup call.

- 2 week vacation to my favorite tropical area for the month of feburary (i just got back from traveling and i enjoyed myself sm)

- i tapped into the void state about two times that month as well. i affirmed for always being aware of when i’m in it.

- a healthier relationship with my family. the past few years i did struggle with feeling close with them but we’ve grown so much in a short amount of time now.

- 300 dollars worth of clothes + a skims dress (the package was gonna be way more and i had already spent a lot of money for the vacation in advance)

- three new pairs of desired shoes

- this was random but, my mom always gives me money monthly to spend freely or to save but i had already gotten that months worth. so i was like my mom is gonna give me more money, not even 30 minutes later she’s asking how much i wanted?? 😭😭

month of feburary in order:

- over the years my family has definitely gotten more lenient especially since i’m damn near grown LMAO but it feels nice to do stuff without feeling like there’s going to be consequences, so i manifested for my family to be more lenient with my desired things.

- to get rid of my cold/flu a few days before vacation. i had gotten “sick” (like a common cough and runny nose) from a family member. i haven’t been sick in years so i was genuinely pissed about it. i affirmed one night when i was sleepy to wakeup without the sickness, and when i woke-up it was gone.

- my sister got paid earlier than she expected. and the amount was a few more thousands than she normally would get. it was funny when she came to tell me because she always has to make a joke out of everything. 😭

- my mothers approval for more piercings and maybe even a tattoo? (probably not, i’d def pussy out LMDAOO)

- so this was the biggest one besides the divorce but we got offers for two homes. the same homes that we looked at years ago and it honestly freaked me out. i genuinely did want to move again so i could be closer to my friends house to hangout more (we both met through LOA about three years ago and just so happened to live almost an hour away). i glanced at both house listings online after talking to her and i believed that i was gonna move. NEXT DAY, MY MOM AND SISTER GOT TWO CALLS BACK TO BACK. so now we’re moving into both homes because of something that happened 😭 it’s not bad but it was funny. i’ll be there in less than a week so i’m excited!

- another thing that happened was earlier this month. i tapped into the void for fun through this guided hypnosis video post made by gorgeouslypink and i was curious. i didn’t have any intent on manifesting anything there nor did i actually think i was gonna go through with it. i laid down right after and i tapped into it immediately while following the last speaking. personally, i don’t feel the need for the void because at the end of the day, ts is a deep meditative state inside of me. manifesting in the void is instant, and so is manifesting any other way. i also texted my friend right before and after. she thought i was gonna do it another day by u disappeared for like an hour or two and she was shocked. i was gonna send proof of everything but idk how to do this shit through anon but changing the font tbh this is sad.

all of the stuff that i mentioned within these two past months were all manifested without using the void. i hope that this can bring more positivity and enthusiasm for a lot of people who’ll see this post. ofc you can use the void but realize your power, it all starts with you and ends with you. don’t forget that you promised yourself these things so give them to yourself. sending love 💓 i’ll check back in monthly probably bc this is fun sharing my experiences and using the pink font color 💟 see you next time!

babes……. HELLO YOU DID THAT🥺i’m so proud and happy for you ! 🫶🏾 you’re only gonna get better and better and i can’t wait🥰i hope you enjoy all you’ve manifested 🕺🏾and have an absolute ball

#sirens inbox🪄#sirens inbox 🪄#success story #success stories

124 notes · View notes

bvannn · 1 month ago

Text

Weekly Update November 15, 2024

I’m in a real bad spot again, everything I’ve been trying keeps going wrong, but i did get some art stuff done.

I tried writing some shorter songs on a whim with some 16 bit soundfonts and i think they came out pretty well. Add 3 more to the ‘songs i finished but can’t release yet’ pile. Also made some midis for two more vocal parts, one for a cover (FF), one for an original (LF), both of which have finished instrumentals. Started tuning FF, am going to try some of the new strategies i tested a few weeks ago. Another vocal original, BATB, that I’ve been on and off working on is probably done? I think? I finished mixing the vocal part, another one for the pile. Also fixed a random glitch that would sometimes happen where an instrument would randomly play a phantom note that didn’t exist in the midi part at the very start of a song, which was causing issue with three songs. Also re-edited Blow Off Steam, since the mixing was fucking awful idk what was wrong with me to think that would be passable. I’ll release it on YouTube once I have motivation to open my computer. I really need to just sit down and draw some cover art but every time i try everything in my life keeps going wrong I’m cursed i swear. It’s fine it’ll get done eventually, i started on one of them this week and so far it looks good. I thumbnailed some more that also look fine. I just need life to cut me a break so i can draw. I just want a break. One break.

I tried working on the comic this week too, got about half of page 12 inked. The comic looks great and is fun to read through and i love how it’s coming out but again every time I try to work on it bad things happen to me that get in the way. I want to give a deadline and say ‘oh, it’ll be done on (x date)’ but I can’t. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe today I’ll go look at tapas and see how things are over there, since I can’t really work on anything. I haven’t really thought about how I’d go about releasing the damn thing once it is finished other than ‘probably not webtoon, I’ve never heard anyone say anything positive about webtoon’.

I made storyboards/thumbnails for another animation project, smaller one for one of the smaller unreleased songs I’m sitting on. I looked into after effects again and it should be able to do some of the effects I thought I was going to need to learn blender for, which is great because I don’t want to mess with blender yet. There’s a certain character who I’ve only really drawn a couple times because I wanted her to have a really unique visual style, so once I have myself together I’d like to try drawing her and rendering her with the new tricks I learned in after effects, but again things need to get better first, and that’s unlikely.

Last bit of hope for progress next week would be the epithet erased TTRPG. I finished off the first tileset I had done and actually sat down to turn it into some maps, and it works really well. Ended up watching through the original anime campaign a bit further too, which inspired me to get some statblocks done and some character minis sketched. Also completely rewrote stage 6 for the second time but I think this time it’ll stick. A couple more NPC ideas have been floating around for that and I might post a mini once I have more. Again I’m hesitant to post anything visual for that, since my plan is currently to turn the campaign into a prewritten module for other people to run, release the module for free so everyone can play, and then release the optional maps and minis as a paid package, so I can make a bit from my work but also make the system more accessible to people for free. The fifth anniversary streams are this weekend, including one that is set to cover the updated system book, hopefully that should give me the motivation to get going, and then if that goes well that should give me motivation for my other projects. Everything I’m doing is intertwined with each other and with my mood, so if nothing else bad happens I should be getting better, but again there’s still a couple things that can go wrong and they certainly will because I’m not allowed to have anything.

Sorry again for how gloomy this post has been, everything seems to be going wrong but I’m going to keep trying. I might be slow again for a while but that’s fine, that’s why I loaded up my queue with old art. Thank you everyone for sticking through it, and I’m glad you guys have been enjoying the old art. I shuffled the queue so some of it isn’t as old as others, but even so a good number of you are seeing pieces for the first time. I really hope I’ll have something big to show soon!

#weekly update

2 notes · View notes

aleksa-sims · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!

First off, I LOVE your story. You’re so strong and every obstacle you over came made you into the beautiful person you are.

Second, I have a question, you don’t have to answer .. but does writing about your life eve trigger old emotions or make you sad during the harder times? I just always wonder how a writer feels when they’re writing their stories esp. when it’s a personal one.

I adore you. 🤍

Hey, friend! 🤗

Thank you sm! This is so sweet! 🤧 💜💜💜 and I apologize for my "long" absence. This week school started and well, was a bit hectic and stressful.

And of course, I’ll answer your question. You can ask me anything!

To your question. When I started with that Simself thing (2 or 3 years ago), I didn’t think anything serious about it. It was just some kind of... gameplay fun?

I remember having Sandra’s Simself in my library. Seeing her Simself made me so sad. I came up with the idea to tell her/our story. By now, most of you few, who still follow my story after all this time, know, that Sandra is no longer with us. 😞 Sandra was a part of my life. We were together all the time. But somehow I couldn’t understand certain things Sandra did or experienced. I'm simply not her! But I will tell what happend to S.! Soon. I just have to.

And the more I started to tell about myself, my family & Sandra, the more... complex it became. And I remember how unpopular Nico was at the beginning.🤭 A nice person here, was even worried about me and my little son. 😬 She knew I was still with him. But I wasn't offended or upset. I understand, some topics are serious and I certainly have often expressed myself incorrectly. My English was totally shitty, bad & embarrassing. 😶‍🌫️🤦‍♀️

Over time, however, I decided to write about my addiction. This was hard! I was ashamed and totally nervous when I first posted it. But I got a very nice message from another Simblr here. She had the same issue and we even become friends. But unfortunately, she is no longer active here on Tumblr. Idk what happend to her? ☹️ Maybe some of you know who I mean?...

Back to the topic: As for my addiction, I noticed that I can write about it without getting/having this ....craving for that drug. I totally forgot after almost 7 years, how it even feels to be high. And do not intend to do this shit ever again!

As for my feelings and emotions, yea, I cried when I told certain things. It made me sad, but I knew the future and this fact made it possible for me, to continue. That I could write about Nico's & my break-up, I only succeeded, because I knew this wasn't our end. He was right next to me, in the room next door, while I was writing about it.

As for Daniel, the whole thing looks totally different. When I started to write about this... triangle thing between Philip, Nico and me, I didn’t want to tell/write about Daniel a little later in the future. I was afraid I’d be considered crazy. I mean, this is insane and also embarrassing, what I have experienced and done with those 3 men. I thought when I started telling you about Daniel and that I even got married to him, nobody would take me seriously anymore. How can I fall in love with 3 different men, in just one damn year? You know? But when I played with Daniel’s Simself, I realized I couldn’t do this to him! 😭 I felt so bad, that I decided to just tell the truth. Even if people don’t take me seriously afterwards or think I’m a lunatic, hidding the truth or changing reality, is just weak and cowardly. Also why I wasn't sure, if I should tell about Daniel is, I was afraid of the feelings I still had for him. I knew, once I remember Daniel and the time with him... my life, my reality, will become complicated. But it was too late anyway. Daniel was already in my mind and heart, before I mentioned him here. And actually last year, I went through a very though time. I was depressed. It was hard for me to write about my life. I just didn’t see any hope. Mainly, because of my illness. My leukemia levels have worsened. As it looked, I had to take a new drug which has very serious side effects. So I got panic attacks again and was afraid to leave our home. The only task I could do alone was to pick up my son from kindergarten. I couldn’t do anything outside our four walls by myself without help, without Nico or someone else by my side. I was just scared...

I decided to continue my story. I thought, if I can do that, I can continue IRL too! The chapter Daniel went on forever. 🥵😔I noticed that I can’t let go of Daniel, neither in Sims nor in my reality. I just wanted to move on and finally close Daniel's & my chapter. But it was hard. IRL I started to withdraw. I didn’t let anyone get to me. All the feelings and emotions that have been triggered by writing my story have made something clear to me. I had to see Daniel! And I swear, seeing him and having him with me, helped me get out of my depression. The darkness that surrounded me faded, thanks to him. ❤️

So yes, writing about my life definitely brought up emotions in me and also opened up old wounds. But some wounds that I thought would never heal, are gone. Just because I told and wrote about it, I was able to reflect on some experiences and conclude with them. Especially my relationship with Nico has become more stable.❤️

Anyway, telling my story taught me one thing! After every difficult, hard life phase, follows a good one. Last year was hell, but I managed to take care of myself and my health. And I also got good news about my illness last month. My leukemia levels stabilized and I didn’t have to change my medication. Even if everything seems hopeless, small miracles can happen. And so that these little miracles don’t fall into oblivion, I write about them. Certainly not perfect and flawless. I am still learning. And I lost a lot of time last year, because I wrote and posted so irregularly, but I hope that I will get better in the future and my posts will be shorter again. 😬

Thank you sm for this ask. You also inspired me to improve my storytelling skills, reading your stories helped me a lot and I love Delilah. I’m always excited when I click on your posts to catch up on Deli’s life.💜🤗

#ask #personal #cw depression #cw illness #cw leukemia #cw addiction

10 notes · View notes

femmefatalevibe · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Hope your week is going great!

I’d love some advice on how to stop obsessing and comparing myself to a woman I know on campus. She gave me her number and I thought we were going to be friends. But she’s one sided: I am the only one contributing the most in conversations. When I ask her hobbies and all of that jazz, she just gives me a limited response with little to no means of knowing about her. When I said a bit about myself she looked invested and said ohhh that’s good to know and I didn’t know that.

I began texting her and she seems excited to hear from me and sends hearts and texts me days at a time (she’s busy I get it).

I don’t feel like it’s going anywhere and now I’m embarrassed at myself because I struggled making eye contact when speaking to her once before and she’s super confident so she clearly knew I wasn’t, but still gave me her phone number. She even looked like she wanted to say more when I mentioned how it was hard making friends in the organization I was in due to being new to school and how cliques were big and I left left out. I told her I admired her work in the organization and how messy the scheduling appears by the eboard. She asked how could they improve and I chatted a bit. She looked like she wanted to say more but she held back a bit which was weird so we sat in silence because once again I was saying everything and she hardly came up with any conversation and I decided to leave. During our talk several different women cut into our talk by ignoring my presence and praising her for her looks and everything and reminisced about things they’ve done or looking forward to.

I just sat there and she introduced me a few times.

They kept raving about her, and they seem like nice women.

When I’m at the club organization I remember when I first began speaking to her she was hyper observant of me. Continuously watching me from the stage (she’s on the eboard). And I found it weird (before I spoke with her about the club).

I admire her for many reasons, she’s a socialite and has stunning dresses that remind me of pageant dresses that she wears to campus events.

She travels and has a tight group of friends she hangs out with but no one knows who they are until she sends a bday shout out on IG and it’s literally women who I have spoken to but never see her speak with. And everyone loves her. Everyone.

She is inspiring but now I feel uncomfortable because I wanted to have coffee with her which she agreed to when we exchanged numbers months ago and I texted her.

Once again it was dry, not much but excitement and emojis ofc.

Now I feel used — or revealed?

Like I revealed too much to her in simple conversations we have.

She has a wall up with selective women she lets in.

I’m clearly nothing compared to her even though I’ve done Great things in my school career and she seemed impressed at what I’ve done but that was it,

I wanted to network and go great things with her.

I remember her twin brother kept staring at me the first time I met him at an event and she was watching me as he was staring and watching him.

Due to my nerves I didn’t pay him any mind so nothing happened.

But I’m still insecure and comparing and I even had to stop obsessing over her at one point. But since our recent texting (barely any contribution from her), I feel like a pathetic puppy that’s begging for attention and she likes the praise. And I give it to her all the time and stopped eventually because I noticed I needed to. I told her she’s like a inspiring big sister and she said she appreciated that and said I’m sweet.

Idk how to look at myself as great and on the same level. I feel pathetic in relationships and friendships wishing I can be a siren like she is.

I am awkward and have anxiety and situations at home that causes me to hardly focus on myself like she can.

I wish I didn’t feel so insecure and embarrassed about myself. I want to cut her off and just never see her around again due to the discomfort I’m begging to feel and sadness I have towards myself atm.

I also don’t know how I’m going to deal with seeing her again when school begins. She told me I should join the club organization again and hugged me and spun me around in front of everyone (this was at the club event). And I was shocked but I didn’t promise I would join.

Funny thing is all my friends think I’m super confident and pretty and smart, and they ask for tips from me about confidence and posture and how outgoing I am.

I am so confused.

Hi love! I'm sorry to hear that this situation over a potential friendship/acquaintance is causing you confusion and some distress. A few things to say here.

Firstly, most healthy relationships build over time and you're not going to be instant best friends with most people/engaging in long or deep conversations until the foundation of a relationship is built and trust/a mutual emotional connection & familiarity is established. It seems like this woman is overseeing an eboard and being friendly/cordial to everyone involved – she seems to be preoccupied with her own life and not exactly looking for new best/close friends.

Additionally, as a socialite, she is naturally going to be more careful and selective about who she lets into her close friend group or inner circle. With more money and social power comes more of a chance that someone will use them in a friendship – either for invites, connections, or status. Idolizing someone in this position will only make her want to step further away from the potential friendship. Putting people on a pedestal/desperation for a friendship will often drive people away (even more so if they have an active social life, a huge network, and greater access to social groups/resources).

I bet that you're really smart, confident, and all-around a great friend/person to be around (you already have the social proof/confirmation to prove that!). However, unfortunately, some people are just interested in remaining on friendly/good terms with other people and new connections for a multitude of reasons that likely have little to do with you as a person. If you want to invite her out for coffee to discuss something specific related to her work regarding the organization, I see no harm in putting yourself out there in a way that feels relevant rather than desperate to have a social outing with a socialite (people in this position can be quick to distrust a potential friend's intentions, honestly).

Either way, at the end of the day, you're both just people living your lives, so I wouldn't take it too personally. Remain friendly and match her level of engagement when you happen to interact. If a friendship develops over time, that's amazing – who doesn't want another great friend? Otherwise, no harm, no foul. You seem to have a lot going for you and a group of people who see that clearly already surrounding you. If someone doesn't want to embrace what you have to offer, that's on them. We're all entitled to live our lives and spend our time/energy on different social connections as we see fit (as long as there's no bullying or mean-spirited activities behind someone's back, of course).

Hope this helps xx

11 notes · View notes

angfdz · 2 years ago

Text

ngl i’m falling p hard for my crush at this point like it’s all getting a little out of hand. there are a few things that I’m concerned about–- like, what he actually wants (from the first day we kissed he said he wanted to have a nice time and enjoy ourselves, not really have anything formal) vs what I want (........sadly i think i do want something a little more formal. I’m a by the books kind of girl).

HONESTLY i’m getting ahead of myself (bc he’s just sooooo...........................) like this is the second week we’ve known each other & he’s going back to León soon so. just trying to give myself a little bit of perspective.

there is also 1 additional v freaky thing i’m concerned about (under the cut)

okay this one is weird but okay. u know how my friend told me he’d blended a live fish? when I brought it up to him he said it wasn’t him, it was his roommate. anyway he eventually figured out who had told me this & he brought it up today

he was like, I was thinking about why she’d be so against me and I think I figured out why. When I was in college I was dating this girl. Things were good for awhile and then they went sour, but we were still seeing each other on and off. She asked me to mail her some nude photographs I had taken of her, so I did. After that we sort of lost touch. Then, later, A (my friend) came up to me and asked if I’d seen the email she had sent out. When I went home to check I’d gotten an email from her with one of those photographs that had been sent to many people, accusing her of participating in a pornographic film.

He told me he always wondered if she’d thought it was him, even though he says he didn’t. The email came from her personal email account, which he wouldn’t have had access to. So I guess he wondered if my friend thought that he’d done it.

Now.

Idk about y’all but like.

this story is a LOT. like idk if I’m overly sensitive, but the whole thing is not giving me great vibes. It’s very confusing because in person, my crush is a very sweet & sensitive seeming guy? Like he really does not give me any bad vibes & I’ve met a few of his friends and they all seem very friendly and sweet. He’s stated pretty directly that when he was in college (over 10 years ago) he wasn’t a very well liked person and told me he’s changed significantly from back then.

Idk it’s just weird like, to find out about this. Because I was already kind of on the back foot about the fish thing, and decided to trust his version of events over my friends (who like, if I’m being honest, is the type of person to have An Agenda & it did come off that way).

I guess like, part of me is just afraid that I’m setting myself up to be hurt in a big scary way as opposed to like, a normal way lol. Idk if that’s my anxiety talking and I’m not sure what to do, re trust. I don’t know him THAT well. It just feels a little complicated.

#like I don't....#Idk u know?

3 notes · View notes

themoleperson · 2 months ago

Text

here's a thing I wrote a while ago! i think later imma post another horror type thing I wrote a bit ago

(Warning for "monster pretending to be person" type horror; idk what else to warn about lol)

INTERVIEWER (INT): Can you state your full name for the record?

PERCY: Is all of this really necessary? Can’t I just go home?

INT: I’m sorry sir, but we need to get your story down as quickly as possible to minimize possible loss of information.

Just to prepare you for how the process works; I will prompt you with questions, and you will answer them to the best of your ability. If you would like to skip past a question, you have the right to do so, but it’s better for both of us if you just answer all the questions I ask you.

PERCY: …okay.

INT: Let’s start again. Department of the Interior, recording testimonial of… state your full name for the record?

PERCY: Percival Briant.

INT: …of one Percival “Percy” Briant, interviewed by Mallory Scott. This recording is only for internal use by the Bureau of Missing and Found Persons, known internally as Division 6. The necessity for the privacy of this information is outlined in the Located Persons Act of 2018.

On the 25th of August, Mr. Briant and the rest of his group were discovered just outside of Olympic National Park. This was after 2 weeks of attempts by the National Park Service to locate them. Mr. Briant, can you begin by stating the names of each of the members of your party?

PERCY: Please stop with the “Mr. Briant” stuff. It’s just Percy, man.

INT: …Duly noted.

PERCY: Thank you.

It was me, Olive- I mean, Olivia “Olive” Grant, Rhode “Rhodie” Jones, Nadya Kira, Vijay Rajesh and Jonathan Dover. Hold on, speaking of, when can I see them? You said they were here. Are they okay?

INT: You may see them after you give your testimony. My associate is checking in with them as we speak.

PERCY: Thank God, Olive…

INT: Mr. Briant?

PERCY: Sorry, I just… I was worried I’d never see them again. Especially Olive.

INT: Understandable. Do you need a break?

PERCY: No, I’m fine, it’s… fine. Okay.

INT: Alright. Then I suppose just start from the beginning, and I will interject if needed.

PERCY: But like, where should I start? It’s kind of a long story.

INT: Just start from when you left for the park, and go from there.

PERCY: …okay.

It all started when we left my house in Vancouver to drive up to the park. We’d planned a 4 day camping trip in Olympic National Park, so we met up at my house on the 5th of August and Vijay’s dad let us use his van to drive up there. I’m pretty sure Olive suggested the whole thing, but honestly we were all like, “Hey, we should do a group trip since we’re all going off to college in September,”, so it’s hard to remember who came up with the idea. I’ve had a sort of a crush on Olive for like a year, so I said yes right away, and Nadya is gonna be their roommate so they thought it’d be a nice trial-run for living together. We ended up inviting Vijay as well a few days later, when the idea stopped sounding so out-there and we started planning stuff.

Originally it was just Olive, Nadya, Vijay and me, but Jonathan and Rhodie heard about the trip and asked to come along. They’re cool guys so we agreed and planned to meet up on the 5th.

Honestly, everything was really normal. We drove a few hours up to Olympia, got the campsite set up. We all brought one or two board games, so we played cards and a really intense game of Monopoly before we all decided to call it quits and go to bed. Olive had made the mistake of leaving their tent at home, so I offered to share mine with them, and I spent the whole night curled up in a little ball, terrified about the idea of sharing a tent with someone that I liked. You know, stupid teenager stuff.

The weirdness started in earnest the next morning. See, we’d found a spot pretty near to this really beautiful waterfall. We couldn’t see it from the camp but we could hear it just over the hill. It was constant, not quite loud enough to drown our conversation, but enough to be noticeable. Now technically it wasn’t an official camp site, but we’d asked the park rangers about it and they said it was fine if we camped there- people did all the time, they said, and the site was cleared out enough that we wouldn’t be disturbing any habitats or anything.

Anyways, the waterfall. See, I woke up at like 5am- I’d been having trouble sleeping the whole night- and I decided to get out of the tent for a bit to stretch my legs and get some coffee. I changed clothes, got my shoes, and sat on one of the fold-up chairs that one of us had brought. That’s when I realized; the forest was quiet.

INT: Quiet?

PERCY: Now that I think about it… no, not just quiet. It was silent. No birds, no bugs. I couldn’t even hear the waterfall. That’s what tipped me off honestly; I could rationalize birds and bugs, but that damn waterfall was constant, I hadn’t stopped hearing it the whole time we were here. And now it was just gone.

INT: Is it possible that you just got used to the sound?

PERCY: Maybe. I mean, that’s what I told myself. I couldn’t find anything when I tried to look up how long it takes for people to just stop noticing the sound of a waterfall, but there wasn’t much. It wouldn’t make sense anyways, I’d only been there for like a day. The only times you really hear about people getting numb to waterfall sounds are when they, like, live next to it for years.

INT: Noted. Did anything else happen during that time?

PERCY: Later, yeah, but not that day. After a few minutes I started hearing noises again, and Olive walked over to where I was sitting. They pulled up a chair and we talked about the noise. Or lack thereof, I guess. They were a little confused, said that they hadn’t heard anything, and asked me jokingly- or at least, I hope jokingly- if I was high. I laughed it off and we just sort of sat there talking until everyone else woke up and joined us.

INT: Was that the only strange occurrence.

PERCY: No. God, I wish it was.

INT: Interesting. Please, continue.

PERCY: Alright. So, we’d all just gotten up and we were sitting around, talking. I didn’t mention the noise thing to anyone else; it didn’t seem super important, and I guessed that Olive’s reaction would be shared by the rest of the group. So, I just sat with my coffee mug in hand, trying to nod along and focus on whatever we were talking about. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something weird was going on. I managed to mostly block it out after a while, but still, something just felt wrong.

Eventually we decided to take a trip over to the waterfall and go swimming. I was a lot less distracted by then, and I’d mostly forgotten about whatever was happening in the morning. It was fun, we just got to splash around for a few hours and by the time we got back it was already evening. The whole day just passed so fast. Before I knew it, we were going back to bed. Everyone else made their way back to their tents. I saw Rhodie and Jonathan looking at each other weirdly and instantly knew that I wanted to be as far away from their tent as possible for a bit, so I decided to just chill out by the fire for a little bit.

The only other thing I remember from before I went to bed was Vijay coming over to sit beside me. He just came right over and propped up a chair. We stayed like that, just talking about nothing, until I suddenly started to get really sleepy. I apologized and went to bed. Or, I tried to.

See the memory itself is pretty mundane. Like, I don’t know why I remember it when so much other crazy stuff happened. But I think it’s because of the noises I heard.

At some point, I think I heard the tent open and close. I mean, I must have, because I distinctly don’t remember hearing Olive snoring beside me when I heard the other sound. It was a high-pitched howl, ringing out through the silent night. Something about it set my blood boiling. A shiver went straight up my spine and I froze. It repeated, sounding a little farther away the second time. For a reason that I can’t really explain, I got up, grabbed a flashlight and left the tent.

It was pitch black out, with only light from the stars and my flashlight lighting up my surroundings. The forest was dead silent, just like it had been that morning. Even the strange howl had stopped. Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I almost jumped out of my skin.

It was just Olive. They said that they’d heard me get up. I apologized for waking them, but they didn’t respond to the apology. Instead, they asked if I was okay. I guess my face was sorta giving me away? I nodded, took a deep breath, and explained what happened. They seemed more concerned than freaked out, but they told me that I was probably just hearing things. After that… All I know for sure is that we made it back to the tent, and I woke up at 5am again the next morning.

INT: One question before you continue; do you remember anything about how you got back to the tent?

PERCY: Not really, but I was super tired so I’m guessing I just forgot what happened. Like when you forget the moment right before you go to sleep, you know?

INT: Indeed. Now, continue, please.

PERCY: Okay. So, the next two days were basically normal. There weren’t any more weird silences that I could remember, and I sort of accepted the fact that I was probably imagining things. The only other weird event from that time was that my tent kept moving backwards by an inch every hour or so, but I think that was just Nadya and Vijay messing with me. It was kind of ridiculous- the tent ended up a decent distance from the others. They knew about my crush on Olive, and they’d been prodding me the entire trip. They were probably just trying to get me some “alone time” or something. Olive noticed, but they didn’t seem to mind, so I just laughed it off. I told Vijay to knock it off but he just pretended that nothing had happened. So did Nadya when I asked her about it later, actually. But that’s pretty normal for them.

It was the 5th day where things really went bad. We’d decided to stay one more day so we’d have more time to pack up, so the plan was now to leave on day 6. Someone- I forgot who, but it was either Rhodie or Olive- texted a group chat we’d made with all our parents, telling them the updated plan. I don’t know how either of them would’ve had service, but I trusted them, so I didn’t really think much of it. We started the process of packing up and everyone got to work. We knew we didn’t need to hurry so we packed slowly, messing around and generally just trying to have fun with it.

Around mid afternoon, I noticed something weird. The forest was quiet again and the air was sort of humming. I noticed a flock of birds flying overhead but they weren’t making any noise. No chirps, whistles, nothing. And there were at least 2 or 3 different types of birds too. I tried to convince myself that I was just hallucinating again, but I felt the same sensation that I had a few nights ago when I heard the howl.

INT: Did you hear the sound again?

PERCY: Now that you mention it… I think I did. It sounded different this time, so I almost didn’t notice, but right before everything had gone silent, I’d heard the call again. I think the cadence was weirder this time too, it didn’t quite sound as animalistic as it had before.

I didn’t tell anyone about it- I didn’t really realize that I’d heard it until now, actually- but I called everyone over to where I was. We all gathered in the small clearing near my tent and I asked; “does anyone hear anything?”

I watched their faces. The first one to realize what I meant was Rhodie. I saw the moment he picked up on the fact that the whole forest was silent. I remember him saying, “Holy —. I can’t hear the waterfall. Why can’t I hear the waterfall?” That was when everyone else noticed as well. Nadya frowned, and pointed out that she couldn’t hear the sound of any bugs or birds chirping. Vijay looked nauseous.

Olive looked weirdly calm. They’ve always been good with stressful situations, and I sort of felt relieved, like whatever was going on couldn’t be that bad if they were unaffected. Jonathan, on the other hand, started freaking out a little bit. His voice was shaky and his eyes were darting around. I saw Rhodie grab his hand and whisper to him, probably calming him down. It worked, and he took a deep breath, steadying himself.

That was when I heard the scream. It was high pitched and desperate, and as our heads whipped towards it, that same shiver went straight down my spine. It was like I could sense that something else was gone, and I whipped around, eyes searching the rest of the group.

Olive was gone. They had been towards the back of the group and now, they were gone. There were just a pair of footprints where they’d stood, as if they had just disappeared. I shouted after them and heard another scream, this time coming from somewhere above us. Nadya pointed into the branches and we all saw flashes of color; something tan, and something light green. Olive’s hoodie was green.

Rhodie screamed, full of rage, and ran towards where we’d seen movement. Jonathan tried to pull him back but Rhodie shook loose, taking out his pocket knife and waving it wildly. Vijay and Nadya ran after him, Jonathan right in front of them, but I couldn’t move. I felt paralyzed, my whole body was frozen and that stupid howl was ringing in my ears.

I remember Vijay turning around to face me, and everything after that was just flashes. I saw the forest floor moving underneath my feet. I heard the howl playing over and over in my ear, sounding more human each time. Sounding more like someone screaming “Help” each time. I saw Vijay trip on a root and fall, screaming, to the ground. I saw Nadya try to help him and then stare in horror at something behind us. I saw a torn blue hoodie on the ground. I felt claws scraping down my back. And then it all went black.

The only thing I remember after that is being woken up. I remember someone- one of the rescuers, I think- throwing up on the ground a few feet from where I was laying down. Then I remember the checkup at the hospital, and now I’m here. That’s pretty much it. Now please, will you let me see my friends?

INT: I will do what I can.

[sound of knocking is audible on recording]

INT: One moment, if you will.

[Interviewer SCOTT leaves the room. Witness BRIANT fidgets anxiously. Skip 2:43 minutes of silence. Interviewer SCOTT reenters the room]

INT: You said that your friends were named Olivia Grant, Rhode Jones, Nadya Kira, Vijay Rajesh and Jonathan Dover, correct?

PERCY: Yes, why? Is one of them missing?

INT, sighing: No, but you may want to sit back down.

[Witness BRIANT sits down, clearly anxious. SCOTT, who is once again out of frame in her place behind the camera, can be heard muttering a prayer. The mic was able to pick up a few words; ‘God’, ‘just kids’, and ‘please’.]

INT: We could find no record, public or otherwise, of an “Oliva ‘Olive’ Grant” ever having existed.

PERCY: ..what? But-

INT: We also could not find any family matching the description that your friend Vijay gave. There are no Brian Grant or Emily Grant living anywhere around Vancouver Washington, nor is there a Susan ‘Suzie’ Grant enrolled in any schools or listed in any public records.

PERCY: No, no, that’s impossible. I mean for Christ’s sake, we got into the same colle-

INT: Furthermore, Olive is not present on any enrollment records in any college in Washington State, much less the University of Washington to which you were accepted. I’m… I’m sorry, Percy. Olive isn’t real. According to your parents, only the five of you- yourself, Jonathan, Vijay, Nadya and Rhodes- went into that forest. However, we found 6 people there- the 5 of you, and one unidentifiable body.

PERCY: …

INT: We have no idea what happened during the full week for which we have no records. None of you remember what happened. And, I’m sorry to say this, but… only yourself, Nadya and Jonathan made it. Vijay was deceased when we arrived, and we discovered the body of Mr. Jones nearby. He appeared to have had a standoff with whatever attacked you, whatever the 6th body was. He had somehow managed to fend it off, eventually killing him, but his injuries were severe. He died in the hospital as he was giving his statement. He said the creature…

PERCY: What? What did he say about it? F—ing tell me.

INT: He said that it almost seemed… that it looked like your friend Olive. I’m sorry.

[Witness BRIANT collapses, inconsolable. Recording ends with a freeze-frame of Interviewer SCOTT turning off the camera. Her eyes are tear-filled.]

[TESTIMONY ENDS]

Investigatory notes: I have reason to suspect that whatever creature attacked these campers was able to alter their memory, obscuring its identity and hiding in wait until it felt safe to attack. Further testimonial from Mr. Briant’s friends, Jonathan and Nadya, indicate a shared awareness that they were supposed to have been a group of 5, but neither were able to pick out which member of the group didn’t belong until the truth was revealed to them by investigators.

This is a strange case indeed. The creature displays an awareness of social dynamics and a predatory nature that is unique from any that I have encountered. I am unsure how Mr. Jones had been able to slay it, but I am thankful that he did. Unfortunately the remains decayed far more quickly than is natural and were unable to be studied by our forensic team.

I can’t help but feel the same sympathy that Interviewer Scott felt for these kids. The tapes are distinctly hard to watch even though they’re just testimonials.

God help them indeed.

#horror #writing #horror writing #it's not what it says it is type beat #yeah this is based on horror podcasts #what of it

1 note · View note