#man-stalking
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blkbunnibby · 2 months ago
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I love it when men disrespect me and call me names, I'm a dumb bitch, dirty cunt, unintelligent cockhole, fuck hole, pair of tits, jerk off fuel, black slut, cum dump, sex toy, walking porn, rapemeat, fleashlight, if a man; the superior gender thinks I am,
Call me out my name, disrespect me, degrade me, humiliate me and this cunnie's yours, sir 🩷
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botanyshitposts · 2 months ago
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confirming the Ethiopian wolf pollination hypothesis seems so straightforward in theory, like just erecting anti-wolf barriers around some of the hot poker plants and seeing if those get pollinated at the same rate as the other ones, but also I feel like it could be some lab’s 6 year long project that ends up in Nature and answers more questions about wolf dessert time than I could ever think to ask. and also it would give more beautiful photos of wolves between 3 seconds and 1 hour into passionate nectar indulgence. so hopefully with the media attention they’re getting they can do that
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hankasventing · 1 year ago
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KETIH DAVID YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING WDYM?? ELABORATE??!
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ditzy-doll04 · 3 months ago
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Use me? 🥺
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xshindaaix · 9 months ago
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The Dark Sh*t •ᴗ•
My recommendations for depressed people (≖‿≖)👍
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sold2vlaykz · 1 month ago
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I love you more than you do.
(Yandere Millionare E/Ex X FEM! reader!)
Prompt: Your older E/Ex bf can not get over you, has not and tonight he’s come back to claim you as his!)
Warning!! Mild angst, stalking, CNC kiss, towel nudity mentioned, loser reader!, word pretty mentioned, older male yandere.
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It was late, you usually did things like this. Stayed up all night despite having school/work tomorrow, you’d spend hours on social media, discord, just because you had nothing better to do with your life.
Your relationship with your family was backwards, sometimes they loved you next they did not.
He hated seeing you sad, the tears rolling down your face as they belittled you. Belittled his sweet little girl.
He wanted to kill them, rip their throats out.
But he couldn’t because he knew it’d hurt you, despite the luxury of a life he could’ve given you after he knew that your pure heart wouldn’t have accepted it.
“I fucking hate this shit.”
You cursed at yourself, arguing with some nobody online while he watched you from your window a gift in hand.
Of course he could’ve watched you from the cameras but it was never better than the real thing.
Of course he’d deal with who you were arguing with later, whoever it was, was soon to be dead on a platter.
But tonight was all about you.
Tonight was the night, the night you’d see him.
You stood up, closing your phone before rubbing your temples and heading to the bathroom. He stood there for a second, waiting maybe a minute or five before he heard the shower water begin to run.
He climbed up the rails into your bedroom window , being quick to hide himself away in a closet.
Your family was away, everyone had something better to do than to be in the house with you.
The smell of you surrounded the room, he’s ashamed to say but it made him horny. He’s only ever been this close to put the cameras in or steal things.
Minutes flew by and there you were. Standing in all your glory in a towel.
Before you dropped it he stepped out, your eyes went wide in surprise as a scream left your lips. It wasn’t long before he covered your mouth with his gloved hand.
He pressed his gun to your back, a smile crept to his face as you trembled.
“Another word and I’ll blow your shit straight off.”
He was lying through his teeth, he couldn’t kill you. God he’d rather kill himself but hey you didn’t know that.
You nodded quickly, his hand slowly moving away from you.
He picked you up and placed you on your bed, careful not to drop the towel. His hands traced your face, then your towel slowly unraveling it.
He didn’t want to fuck you, well not without your consent at least.
You began to cry, whimpers leaving your lips thinking that your dignity was about to be ripped away.
“No, shh. I’m not gonna’ do anything. Just wanna’ feel you.”
His voice was deep, rolled of the tongue so effortlessly.
His hands went down to your stomach, squeezing the skin just to get a feel, cupping your breast gentle, rubbing your thighs. With each move a whimper left his lips, as if he was getting off on just rubbing you.
“Who are you?”
Your voice was cracked and shaky, almost a whisper despite no one being home.
“I’m your husband.”
He spoke blankly, your eyes widened at the golden ring on his finger. You were confused, maybe this was all just a bad dream. None of it made sense.
Well at least not to you, to him you were married. He got your parent’s signature on a contract not too long ago, they were all drunk after a party and stupidly signed a paper not knowing what it was.
Now you were his, all nude and pretty. Sitting there just for him.
He opened your laptop, immediately faced with the discord screening.
He grabbed your hand before pulling you softly towards him, sitting in a chair while pushing you into his lap.
“Won’t be needing this anymore”
You watched him factory reset your whole computer, everything erased. Your whole lonely loser life, crushed.
You didn’t want to seem phased despite the shake in your bones. He looked up at you, looking you in your eyes as if waiting for a response.
“Why are you doing this.”
You heard him groan at your question, before snatching your phone from in the desk. He clicked on your messages before going to the deleted.
“Mm, baby you really don’t remember me?”
He went on a number that was at the very bottom of the list, before recovering all that was gone.
With you on his lap and one hand on your thigh he began to scroll, thousands of messages from almost three years ago. By the looks of it, he was some guy you used to E-date. Until you inevitably blocked him because of the age difference between you two, the jealousy, and possessiveness-despite how much he evidently cared for you.
“All of this, and then you left me.”
His grip tightened, jaw clenched.
The balls to come here without a mask, knowing he wouldn’t have got caught. His gun on the opposite side of you, he just kept staring at it.
“But I forgive you, you couldn’t have done it on purpose.”
A lie he told himself, he began to dig into his pocket. Whatever it was had a circular shape. And god you hoped it wasn’t what you thought it was. In the midst of all his shuffling he pulled out a ring.
As much as you hated to say it, it was beautiful.
Covered in diamonds with a ruby in the middle, gold decorating the rims.
“I remember how you said you loved the color red, despite it being a last ditch effort to have a favorite color like everyone else did.”
Considerate, despite the breaking and entering, the threats, the gun. He already had the contract, all he needed was your finger.
His eyes stared like daggers into yours, gray stubble decorating his clean cut facial hair.
“Marry me. Just like we promised all those years ago.”
You could tell it wasn’t a question, it’s either you said yes or you thought he’d blow your fucking head off. When in reality if you said no he would’ve just stalked and harassed you until you had no choice but to say yes. Or kidnapped you-
“Do I have to?”
He froze, nails practically digging in your skin through the gloves.
He picked up the gun before pressing it to the side of your ribcage.
“Do you?”
Is all he said his voice a low growl. A soft yes left your lips, and all was subsided. A smile grew wide on his face from ear to ear as if he didn’t have a gun to you.
“I knew you loved me.”
He placed a kiss on your neck, eyes full of absolute joy. He put the gun down and grabbed your face, facing you toward him. Devilishly handsome with the mind of a psychopath.
“Do you know how much I’ve done to get here, from killing your boyfriend, murdering your teacher, even killed that celebrity you were obsessed with. Just to have you now sitting in my lap with a ring on both of our fingers.”
He kept covering you in soft kisses, you on the other hand trying hard to ignore the bulge in his pants.
“I’m sorry, it’s just your so pretty angel.”
Angel, that name ran through your mind like alarms. The day it fell down when he hacked your account and deleted every man from your phone.
“I’m sorry angel I just don’t know what got into me.”
You knew you were going to have passion marks, didn’t know how you were going to explain them to your parents.
“I love you.”
He kissed your lips, he stood up with you in his arms and placed on you the bed. Lips not daring to leave yours.
“Stop-” you mumbled out.
His eyes dropped, sadness filled them.
“It’s me sweetheart, your husband. All those times we said we wanted nothing more but to hold eachother.”
His hands made their way around your back and pulled you closer.
Nose to his area, making the size difference evident.
He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up.
“You can’t run from me, even now if you call the police they won’t catch me and we’ll end up right here.”
He began kissing your neck softly once again, each kiss deepened. He dragged a moan from you despite you wanting to not enjoy it, he knew how to make you feel good.
“Does that feel good baby?”
He knew it did, you could hear his chuckling under your moans, under his slyness.
“We don’t gotta’ do anything. Just wanna’ kiss you.”
He brought his mouth back to your lips, and sadly. You kissed him back, God. You felt his hard on grow the more you kissed him, his loud moans and whimpering just by your subtle touch.
“Say it, say you love me.”
He stopped and looked at you with desperate eyes, despite what he’s done you know how much he’s done for you. The money he sent, the gifts he bought, the reassurance and pure love he gave.
“I love you.”
-“mm fuck.”
God he was getting off by just your words, he turned around and covered his face with his hand. Trying his hardest not to touch himself to your voice like he used to.
“I fucking love you, you don’t know what you do to me.”
He groaned before coming back towards you, innocently kneeling and putting his head in your lap like a lost puppy dog.
Covering your thighs in soft kisses. He dug into his other pocket before pulling out another ring more expensive than the already pricey one.
“I almost forgot, that one was for engagement.”
And you knew, you were in for a hell of a ride.
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narcissisticsmoker · 2 months ago
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I bet you wish my tongue woke you up this morning instead of your alarm.
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bayb1grl · 27 days ago
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A treat for 65 followers! Tysm everyone if I hit 100 I have something more fun in store
(Also if you like this you should send me icky threats in my DMS or inbox)
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pricetagged · 2 months ago
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Part 2 of that wifehunter john piece instead of working on my wips 💖
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Masterlist l Previous l Next
Warnings: implied stalking and voyeurism. Nothing too bad...yet.
Unedited, typed on my phone during break, abrupt ending (part 3 ig?)
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He thumbs at the book, tracing the swirls of your penmanship until the ink fades off and the paper turns to felt. It leaves his fingertips stained, dark as indian ink, and he can't help the satisfied burr that catches his breath as he presses the sticky whorls of his prints into the pages.
Stained. Blackened.
Imprinted.
It's what he wants to do to you in something more indelible than ink, something that would burrow under your skin and linger. (This parasitic desire, he'll bury it in you, make you feel his presence deep in your guts, squirming and wriggling at the back of your mind-)
Of course he returns the book. Returns it to you marked and dogeared and of course you're grateful for it. Tripping over your words and choking on the thanks that build up and tumble from your delicate throat, feelings and words too big for you. 
He knows that, sees the slight hesitance in your eyes as they flit to the window where he knows your useless Buck is ambling about. Shambling. (This marriage is a sham, his claim on you is a sham, one that John is more than willing to seize upon and squeeze until it all crumbles and all that is left is you malleable and soft in his hands).
"Where...where did you find this? I thought-" He sees how you choke down condemnations, not wanting to crack open that door that leaves your husband exposed.
Is it loyalty? Obedience?
Whatever it is, he wants it. Wants to redirect it his way. It itches at him, sits awkwardly like a broken seam, seeing you waste this fidelity on something still wet behind the ears.
On a man who can't even protect his own home, can't even cherish his own wife and has to call John in to pick up the mantle-
"It's good work. Shouldn't leave it lying around, sweetheart," he raps against the front cover, needs to do something with his hands before the impulses take over and he does something hasty. Something that would send you darting back to your husband's arms instead of in to his. "Would be a real waste if it got lost. Taught me how to transplant herbs, now I've got some parsley on my windowsill that's still alive."
It's a lie. He must have strangled the roots, harvested it too soon, something-
But it makes you happy. He can see the glow that warms your cheeks and brightens your eyes. They way your face plumps up, softens, due to your shy smile.
"You should've tried mint, first. It grows like crazy, basically does its own thing. Basil, too." You're grinning, in your element out here. Surrounded by green and the rich, earthy scent of the soil that you till. Geosmin. Oakmoss.
"I'll have to get you over to show me sometime."
He plays gallant so well, offering to help you with the weeding and trimming. It wouldn't be the first time he got down into the muck and the mire. Wouldn't be the first time he stuck his hands in, got them caked and dirty right up to the elbow in order to get what he wants. In order to do what needs done. It's as familiar to him as the uniform he wears.
And your company makes it so much more pleasant.
You smile at him, glancing up from the flowerbeds each and every time he passes you a tool. Eventually you feel comfortable enough to call for him - John? - to tap at his wrist and redirect his hands around the roots and stems below you both. It's a beautiful symbiosis: you, who are so good at wringing life and he who is so good at taking it.
He catches the way the living room curtains twitch, the shadow of the young buck pacing and pawing just out of sight. Too much energy, not enough courage. Not seasoned enough to come out and plant himself between the challenger and his wife. It's stable vice, sending him spinning, uselessly watching as John sidles in and digs his paws into the very foundations of the house. It makes him smile, big and broad as he tugs at a particularly stubborn weed with a grunt.
And when you can't quite get the rubber of the yard gloves to slide over your wrist, he just has to help you. Has to grip at your soft forearm, cooing as you wince.
"Big pull, that's it sweetheart."
You brace yourself so well, pulling back in a counterweight that just digs his fingers in tighter. Blinking back tears, you laugh a little awkwardly. A little thrilled.
And you thank him for it, shaking your arm out and stretching your fingers. All damp from the soil and your sweat.
Unoticing uncaring of the ring that's no longer on your finger.
He has the urge to shake it out of the glove onto the dirt. To burry it and trample all over it until it's dull and forgotten and dead.
But -
But it's still warm from your hand.
It's so fragile, too small to fit properly over his thick fingers and swollen knuckles.
He thumbs at it on his drive home, plays with the smooth face and angled edges as he thinks.
He won't give it back, the thought draws a scoff as he signals into his driveway. No, the only way you're getting a ring from him is on the same day that the ink dries on your marriage license.
But there's the matter of that ugly possesive thing that lives in his ribcage, so close to the surface that the lines blur and shimmer until he's not sure which skin he's wearing. It has him feeling hot, burning up and itching to watch the fall out.
He settles on the settee, cigar in one hand and your wedding ring in the other.
It sits tight just barely at the first knuckle of his forefinger. The screen in front of him illuminates it, makes it glint cold and sharp as it moves lower and lower, over the slight give of his stomach until it reaches the bulge pressing into his zipper. He palms himself, hisses as he feels the metal dig in a little to the sensitive, aching flesh.
With another slow drag, he flicks open his fly and settles in.
Even the slight pixelation of the monitor can't disguise how pretty you are.
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Someone with a big brain please help me to name this haha 💖
Sorry for the delay. Been super demotivated lately. Still got several k of wips that need attention :/
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babyrascalx · 3 months ago
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need a mommy or daddy to make me worse <3
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stealingyourbones · 5 months ago
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Every day i read a post where people write that “Bruce Wayne has an adoption problem” or that Danny is adoption bait on the first second of seeing him, not even knowing if he has a want of vengeance and a sad backstory and parallels to Bruce, and every day I want to softly cry in a corner.
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scariestmaskedman · 13 days ago
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chihirolovebot · 1 year ago
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on a real note that bit near the end of the video was genuinely haunting. hearing somerton talk about how gay writers are erased from history was one thing (with all the irony being that he stepped on the backs of numerous underpaid, underprivileged and uncredited queer writers to build his youtube channel) but when h revealed it wasn't even somerton's quote in the first place? the worst, most crushing sort of irony. how do you lament about the erasure of gay people and gay writers in history... whilst erasing a gay writer and taking his words as your own?
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arkarti · 5 months ago
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Willry
Slight AU where William is a bit nicer/cares at the beginning. Set before anything bad happens.
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santasfavoritebunny · 3 months ago
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i just want to be on your lap i don’t care what your doing
watching tv i will be on your lap
reading something yup i’m on your lap
even at the kitchen table when your eating i will be on your lap and you will be feeding me :3
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ditzy-doll04 · 3 months ago
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I swear I would look so cute with a baby bump 🤭
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