#me and my obsession with finishing things up.....

[romans-empire]

Last song: Not by Big Thief.

Favorite color: Any dark/deep shade of blue. Not a big fan of bright colors such as neons or just really bright colors due to them giving me headaches when looking at them (my eyes and brain are weird..).

Last book: Persuasion by Jane Austen. Recently got gifted a really pretty copy of it and I'm currently on chapter 7 after reading for 2 hours (slow I know, the deep English words causing my bilingual brain to go overdrive in translating it).

Last movie: I think it's Anastasia? I don't remember, I'm not a big movie fan since I can't hold still for more than an hour without doing something else then getting distracted that I forget I'm watching a movie.

Last TV show: Inside Job. I just finished watching season one and I love Reagan and find her incredibly relatable.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Sweet! It's the lesser evil among all of these, I don't like eating a lot or else my throat will kill me and I tend to get overstimulated by overly sweet flavors but I prefer that over having my taste buds be hurt by spicy. I hate savory flavors so no.

Relationship status: Single, AroAce and has a QPP.

Last thing I googled: Undertale Newsletter. I don't check my email often so I prefer using the archive to check for new newsletters.

Current obsession: UTDR+Y kids... Frisk, Asriel, Chara, and Clover soulmateness...

Looking forward to: Finally playing the games in my to be played and catching up on some fic writing.

@darlie-charlie

(No need to feel pressured to do this.)

people i'd like to know better tag game!

tagged by @endof-vanity thank uuu ^-^

last song: ... everybody wants to rule the world by tears for fears

favourite colour: green!!!! :DD

last book: last book i properly finished was the name of the rose by umberto eco :'] i have my fingers in too many others

last movie: megalopolis! it was shit <3

last tv show: nbc's hannibal in 2021 LMAO but i am watching amc's the terror. or trying to

sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury!! i would say spice if i was better at it </3

relationship status: single >.<

last thing i googled: 50bc attalus. lol. and a directory for a mall at the same time

current obsession: m...my catie,,,, self explanatory i don't have to justify myself. also monks. reading a monklove book,,,

looking forward to: going out with my friends this sunday! maybe going overseas next june! yippee :3

tagging: @quia-nominor--leo @enlitment @monksexualizer @xxmarvelouslifexx @courtjester69420 if you'd like to doooo itttt <3

[spanktony]

“LEFTOVERS” - lee doona.

summary: lee doona was so full of herself and you hated it. until, you understood.

words: 4.2k +

warnings: 18+ g!p reader, p in v, oral (d receiving), doona’s kinda an ass but not really because she’s wifey, and i think that’s all.

notes: once request open back up more doona requests guys 🙏🙏🙏🙏 she’s so underrated

navigation. request.

you had never met someone so full of themselves; well, that was up until the moment you had your first interaction with doona. you had just finished lacing up your sneakers, your compression shirt hugging your torso and your workout pants snug and comfortable.

the day was still cool, perfect for a run, and you were looking forward to clearing your head after a long day of work.

being a server was no joke.

you popped your headphones into your ears, selecting your playlist before closing and locking the main entrance door behind you, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes that had been watching you from across the courtyard.

it was a beautiful evening, and you smiled as you started singing, off-key but nonetheless singing, while you warmed up and stretched before your run. you didn't notice the figure sitting nearby until you were almost past them.

doona.

she was sitting on the brick fence that surrounded an old tree, one leg crossed over the other, and a cigarette dangling from her lips. the smoke swirled lazily around her, and she exhaled slowly, watching you with a bored, detached look as you bopped your head to the music in your headphones.

you were in your own little world, head down, and pounding music that drowned out everything except for your own thoughts.

but then, just as you were getting into a good groove, doona stood up abruptly, taking a drag from her cigarette.

without missing a beat, she stepped directly into your path, her body blocking your way.

you came to a halt, pulling your headphones down to your neck.

"excuse me," you said, raising an eyebrow, already feeling the irritation start to build. you hadn't been expecting anyone to stand in your way, let alone her.

doona regarded you coolly, the smoke curling from her lips as she blew out a cloud and gave you a pointed look. "what's your deal?"

you blinked, confused, your jaw slightly dropping. "what?"

doona took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. the calm, almost calculating look on her face made you feel even more confused.

"you've been staring at me for weeks," she said, her voice laced with something you couldn't quite place. was it annoyance? amusement? "every time you run by, you look up at my apartment. i see you. you're watching me."

you blinked again, the irritation from before quickly turning into bewilderment. "what? i'm not—what are you talking about?"

doona's expression didn't soften. she flicked the ash off her cigarette, still maintaining that intense gaze. "don't act like you haven't noticed me. you've been eyeing me from across the courtyard every day, practically tracking my every move. and now you're singing my songs like some kind of weird obsession. what's your deal, stalker?"

a small laugh escaped you, almost out of reflex. "are you serious? i've just been doing my thing—i'm not stalking anyone."

doona raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. for a moment, there was a pause between you two, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears as your confusion started to shift into something else.

"yeah, right." she took another drag, blowing the smoke into your face, causing you to close your eyes and cough slightly. your jaw tightened at the action, but you still tried to keep your cool. the last thing you wanted was to give her any kind of satisfaction.

doona tilted her head to the side; the two of you studied each other intently, the tension thickening between you as the seconds dragged on. her gaze was sharp, predatory even, and her lips twitched into a small smirk.

you, on the other hand, were trying your hardest not to show how irritated you were. it wasn't like you cared that she thought you were some sort of stalker. in fact, you were far more interested in getting away from this confrontation and finishing your run.

but as you stared back at her, you couldn't help but feel... curious. who was this woman? why was she so damn confident and dismissive?

finally, you exhaled sharply, pulling your shoulders back when it finally hit you. she was lee doona, from dream sweet!

your confusion morphed into a mix of surprise and disinterest. you weren't particularly impressed by celebrity status, and honestly, you couldn't care less who she was. all you cared about was getting back to your routine and putting as much distance between you and this strange encounter as possible.

you stared at her for a beat longer, trying to mask the faint surprise flickering across your face. doona's eyes held an intense gaze, scanning you almost like a puzzle to be solved.

but when you didn't immediately react the way she expected, her expression faltered for a fraction of a second, and she flicked the cigarette again, sending more ash into the wind.

"so, what?" you said, cutting through the silence with a firm tone, finally over the awkwardness. "you're accusing me of stalking you because i run by and look up at the apartments? that's a stretch."

doona narrowed her eyes, seemingly a bit put off by your nonchalant attitude. she opened her mouth, but something in your demeanor stopped her. maybe it was the fact that you weren't fawning over her or hanging on her every word like people usually did.

maybe it was the confusion you still had about her unexpected behavior. she seemed a little unsure of herself for the first time in the conversation.

her voice, when it came out, was slightly less accusatory, but no less annoyed. "it's not just about running by, alright? it's the way you look at me. like you're always waiting for something."

you paused, taking a moment to process her words. you tried to read her, but she had the same expression as before, guarded and defensive. her posture was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp.

was she really this caught up in a casual interaction with someone she thought was obsessed with her?

"i'm not 'waiting' for anything," you replied before brushing past her, putting your headphones back in, and jogging out of the courtyard towards the street.

over the next week, doona's presence became hard to ignore. she had a way of appearing at just the right moment—whether it was passing you in the hallway or casually lounging on her balcony as you stepped out for air.

her presence was like a constant shadow, always hovering just out of reach but never quite out of mind. you couldn't deny that her mysterious aura intrigued you, but you weren't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

each time you crossed paths, whether she was perched on the balcony with a cigarette or standing in the doorway as you passed by, she had that same intense, unreadable gaze. it was like she was trying to figure you out, but at the same time, she never seemed to want to make the first move.

you, however, had other things on your mind—your routine, your runs, the work that needed to get done. doona wasn't a part of that, no matter how much she seemed to want to be. you kept your head down, trying to block out the distraction that was her presence.

but one day, when you returned home after work, still dressed in dress pants and a black button-up shirt, you saw doona sitting outside.

you hesitated for a second, unsure if she'd approach or if you should just keep walking. but before you could make up your mind, she called out to you.

"hey."

you stopped, caught off guard by the lack of confrontation this time. she wasn't blocking your path or looking at you like you were some strange specimen. she was just... there. waiting.

"are you going to keep ignoring me, or do you actually want to talk?" her tone wasn't harsh this time, just curious.

for a moment, you felt a flash of irritation. who did she think she was, acting like she had the right to dictate when you should talk to her? you had enough of these mind games. you glanced over at her, seeing her kicking her feet outwards like a child.

she wasn't smoking this time, and she wasn't giving you that intimidating, piercing stare either. instead, her eyes were warm, and there was a small, inviting smile on her face.

something in your stomach twisted slightly, but you managed to hold yourself together. you stepped forward, crossing your arms, but your stance was more relaxed now, less defensive than before. "what's this about, doona?"

she leaned back against the fence, leaning back on her arms and tilting her head slightly. "i don't know. maybe i was wrong about you."

"wrong about me?" you repeated, confused. "what do you mean?"

doona let out a sigh, her gaze flicking down to the ground before meeting yours again. "i misjudged you. thought you were... obsessed or something."

a soft chuckle escaped you, and you raised an eyebrow, still unsure if you were understanding correctly. "and now?"

her stomach growled audibly before she could answer; doona's eyes flicked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she ran a hand through her hair, clearly embarrassed.

you couldn't help but chuckle at her. "lucky for you, i've got leftovers from work," you said, tapping the backpack you had slung over your shoulder, which contained a portion of the evening's meals from your restaurant job.

"leftovers?" doona raised an eyebrow. "what, you think i look like i'm starving?"

"maybe not starving," you said, "but it's not like you're going to turn down free food." you held out the bag, shaking it slightly, almost teasing her.

she eyed it for a moment, then pushed herself off the fence, moving toward you with a slow, deliberate step. "you're lucky you're offering," she muttered, taking the bag from you with a slight smirk. "i wasn't going to beg for your charity."

"right," you said, shaking your head. "just take it, doona."

for a second, she seemed to hesitate, as if weighing whether to offer a witty remark, but instead she just muttered a quick thanks, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bag.

the next evening, when you returned from work again, there she was, sitting by the same spot, her eyes trained on her feet. she didn't seem to notice your approach until your foot scraped against the concrete.

this time, she didn't wait for you to say anything. the moment she saw you, she stood up and walked toward you, eyes gleaming.

"got any leftovers today?" she asked, cutting straight to the point.

you were taken aback for a moment. had she really come just for food? "still hungry, huh?" you asked, grinning despite yourself.

"very," she replied, with that same smirk you were starting to recognize all too well.

you shrugged, reaching for your backpack and pulling out another container. "here, take it."

days passed, and each night when you came home, doona was there, waiting for more of your leftovers. her presence had become a routine, like a weird, unspoken agreement between the two of you. you'd offer the food, she'd take it with little fanfare, and sometimes, if you were lucky, she'd stay for a little conversation.

one evening, your manager practically forced you to stay late, almost two hours after your shift had ended. when you finally arrived home, exhausted and hungry, doona wasn't waiting for you. it was late, so you don't know why you would expect her to be there.

but as you made your way up the stairs and towards your apartment, you noticed something odd. a faint sound—footsteps. someone moving quickly, almost purposefully. you paused, glancing around.

there she was.

doona stood at the foot of your building, her eyes scanning the space like she was looking for something—or someone. her gaze locked onto you the moment you stepped into view, and for the briefest of moments, there was something almost sheepish in her expression.

you stopped in your tracks, the exhaustion from your late shift quickly replaced by a flicker of amusement. "i didn't think you'd be waiting tonight," you said, adjusting the strap of your backpack, almost expecting her to snap back with some witty retort.

she didn't. instead, she bit her lip, her eyes darting around as if unsure of herself. "i thought you might have forgotten," she said with a small shrug.

you blinked, the words catching you off guard. "forgot?"

"yeah." she looked down at her feet for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "the food. i've... been getting used to it."

a weird, inexplicable tug in your chest made you pause.

"i haven't forgotten," you replied, your tone a little lighter. "i just got stuck at work longer than usual. but i brought something for you."

you opened your bag; instead, it wasn't the usual takeout you usually brought her. instead, you pulled out a small cake—chocolate with rich frosting and a simple "happy birthday" written on top in delicate icing.

doona blinked in surprise, her eyes widening a little. "what... is this?"

"it's your birthday, isn't it?" you asked with a small, teasing smile. "i figured you'd appreciate something sweet, instead of leftovers for once."

she stared at the cake for a long moment, not even noticing you turning away and walking upstairs toward your bedroom, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

doona lingered by the doorway, still staring at the cake. something about the gesture touched her, and her mind raced with questions, but none of them would formulate into coherent words.

after a long, thoughtful pause, she made her way up the stairs with the cake in her hand. when she knocked on your door, you opened it, already anticipating her arrival. you weren't surprised to see her standing there, her expression unreadable as she walked past you, heading straight for your bed and setting the cake down on your desk.

you raised an eyebrow as she made herself at home, flopping down on your bed without a care in the world. it was a little jarring, considering how much she had thrown off the idea of getting close to you just a few weeks ago. but there she was, casually reclining on your bed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you stood by the door, not quite sure what to say. "you just walked in without even asking?"

she shrugged, her eyes not leaving yours. "it's not like you're going to stop me."

"what makes you so sure?"

"you wouldn't have let me in otherwise."

that was a fair point. you sighed, moving to unbutton your work shirt, but instead of heading to your closet, you stayed near the door, keeping a safe distance from her. "what do you want?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"i just wanted to see if you missed me," she answered, her voice unexpectedly soft, though laced with that playful challenge. her gaze held yours, and for a second, you could have sworn there was a hint of affection in her expression.

you swallowed, breaking the gaze and looking away. you didn't want her to catch the flush creeping across your cheeks.

doona smirked, watching the way your fingers fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, the way you tried so hard not to show any sign of vulnerability. you chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness in your laugh.

"miss you?" you took a few steps further into the room but kept your distance, not wanting to make the moment feel too awkward. "you've been showing up for leftovers, and now you're asking if i miss you?"

doona raised an eyebrow, which dropped when she let out a sigh, glancing around your room. it was her first time ever being up here. "you looked for me tonight," she muttered. "i didn't think you cared if i was around or not."

you paused, the weight of her words hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt exposed, like she had somehow cracked through the barriers you'd carefully put up around your thoughts and emotions. you'd been so intent on brushing her off, pretending that her presence didn't matter, that you hadn't realized how much she'd started to occupy your mind.

"i didn't look for you," you said quickly, though you weren't entirely sure if you believed it yourself. "i just—" you rubbed the back of your neck, averting your eyes, not wanting to meet hers. you took a deep breath, forgetting about taking off your work clothes and instead focused on trying to maintain your composure.

doona's gaze softened slightly as she watched your struggle to keep your cool. she could tell you were trying to downplay the shift in your emotions, but it wasn't working. there was a crack in your facade, and she was starting to notice it.

"right," she said, her voice dropping into something softer, more teasing than before.

you shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of your neck again as your eyes flicked to the cake you had given her earlier. for some reason, the sweetness of the gesture now felt like it was hanging over both of you, making everything feel more real, more vulnerable. you had never meant for this to become more than just a simple exchange. leftovers. a casual moment. yet here she was, in your room, in your personal space, making things feel... complicated.

"i didn't expect you to be here," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent but failing. "i didn't think you'd care if i gave you a cake or not."

doona let out a soft, almost wistful laugh. "you really are bad at this, aren't you?"

the way she said it caught you off guard. there was something affectionate in her tone, something beyond just teasing. you had never thought she would soften up like this, not after all the weird tension that had built up between you two. but there it was.

you swallowed, still not quite sure how to handle the shift in the air. it was no longer about leftovers, no longer about the small interactions. she was making you confront something you hadn't expected to feel—maybe even something you hadn't wanted to feel.

"doona..." you started, but she cut you off before you could finish.

"stop overthinking it," she said with a small, half-smile. "i'm not here to make you uncomfortable. not really. i just... want to see how far you'll go."

"go where?" you asked, still confused but unable to stop the questions from rising in your chest. "what do you want from me?"

she sat up from your bed, the air between you two thickening with every word. "i just want to know if you're more than the girl who gives me leftovers. are you?"

her gaze was intense now, and her words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. you didn't have an answer, and you didn't know what she was hoping for. you just knew that whatever this was—whatever you two were turning into—it was no longer as simple as it had been when she first asked for leftovers.

she stood up from your bed, her hands falling to the buttons of your shirt, her eyes never leaving yours. you felt the soft cotton of your shirt, now being unbuttoned by her, slipping off your shoulders as she leaned in closer.

her fingers traced along the lines of your collarbones, slowly, gently, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. it was such a gentle touch, such a light caress, yet you couldn't help the way your breath caught in your throat, the way your heart skipped a beat.

she tilted her head slightly, her smile growing as she watched you, the intensity of her gaze making it clear that she was enjoying this. enjoying seeing you get flustered, enjoying seeing you react to her touch.

and then, her hand moved to your hip, and she pulled you closer, pressing her lips against yours.

you could feel your pulse quicken as the kiss deepened, her fingers digging into your hip, her other hand reaching up and tangling in your hair, tugging slightly. as she pulled you closer, you could feel her body pressing against yours, her breath mingling with yours, your mind going blank as her tongue swiped over your lips, tasting, teasing.

you hadn't expected this—hell, you didn't even know if you were ready for it. but doona wasn't giving you a chance to overthink. she was just there, and all you could do was follow her lead.

when the kiss broke, you found yourself looking into her eyes. they were dark and full of want and something else, too. you swallowed, feeling your stomach twist with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

doona leaned in again; this time you didn't hesitate, kissing back with the same intensity and hunger she was pouring into you, her lips soft and insistent against yours, while her arms dangled around your neck.

the kiss deepened again, your hands fell to her waist, and doona began walking backwards; you followed her like a puppy on a leash, falling on top of her as her back hit your bed. her eyes were half-closed, but they were still looking at you. she ran her hands up and down your sides, caressing you. her touch was light, but you felt it go right through you. doona smiled up at you, her hands going to the hem of your shirt and lifting it up, her fingers grazing your skin as she pulled the material up over your head.

her hands fell to your core, fingers trailing against your stomach. her touch was making you shiver, sending waves of pleasure through you.

you bit your lip and closed your eyes, focusing on her touch, looking down to see a singular finger moving along the top of your pants, tracing the outline of your belt, teasing. she was taking her time, exploring your body, watching and listening to your reactions. it was making you painfully hard, and you wanted nothing more than to have her fingers wrap around you.

finally, doona moved her hands back up and unbuckled your belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it aside. then, she popped the button on your pants and lowered the zipper, sliding your jeans down, exposing your black boxers.

she was gazing at you, her pupils blown wide with lust. doona licked her lips. she was waiting for you to say something. but all you could do was nod and kiss her.

her tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned into her mouth, the sound muffled by her lips. doona's hand was in the front of your boxers, rubbing your cock through the material, feeling how hard you were. your hands gripped the sheet beneath you, and you took in a sharp breath.

you let out a grunt as her hand moved under the waistband of your boxers, wrapping around your shaft, squeezing and stroking. "wait," you said, breaking the kiss. you pulled back a little and looked at her. "let me help you."

she bit her lip, nodding, letting go of your cock. you sat down on the bed, kicking your pants away, and watched as she slid off her own pants, her hips raising from the bed before lowering again.

doona had you in a spell, your eyes glued to her every movement; you wondered if she was aware of the effect she had on you. she was wearing a pair of black lace panties, which contrasted beautifully with her creamy skin. your gaze lingered on her breasts, which were covered by a coordinating bra.

she lay back down, her hair fanning out on the pillow. you couldn't stop staring.

"see something you like?" she teased.

you nodded, crawling back on top of her, afraid that any words that left your mouth would make her change her mind.

instead, you kissed her again, one hand cupping her cheek, the other sliding behind her back, deftly unclasping her bra. you felt her body shiver as you slid the straps off her shoulders, and the garment fell away, exposing her breasts.

"you're so beautiful," you murmured. she smiled, pulling you closer.

you lowered your head and began kissing her neck, working your way down to her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples, making them harden under your touch. the soft sounds of her moans only encouraged you further, along with the grip she had on your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

her hands tangled in your hair as she whispered, "don't stop."

you moved lower, kissing her stomach and then her thighs. anywhere your lips touched, she shivered with pleasure.

your fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them off her legs. you were staring at her now, more than ever, taking in her naked form, her body flushed and warm, her chest rising and falling as she breathed heavily, her eyes locked onto yours.

you moved forward, settling between her legs, spreading them open, your hands gripping her hips. "please," she whimpered. "i need you."

you pressed your face against her thigh, kissing it softly, your hands gripping her thighs firmly as you trailed kisses up towards her core. she arched her back, silently begging for more, her fingers tangling in your hair as she guided you closer to where she needed you most.

"stop being an ass," she whispered in frustration in her voice. "just give me what i want." you chuckled softly, then moved higher, your tongue finding her wet folds. her breath hitched, and her hand tightened in your hair, a low moan escaping her lips as you gave her exactly what she desired.

you lapped at her cunt, your tongue moving up and down her slit, tasting her. she was writhing beneath you, her back arching off the bed, her pulling at your hair so much it was starting to hurt. her moans grew louder, more desperate, "oh, god..." she moaned, her voice thick with arousal. "that feels so good."

you continued to lick her, your tongue sliding up and down her slit, teasing her, before you focused on her clit, flicking it with the tip of your tongue. she was panting now, her legs trying their hardest to trap your head between them as she bucked against your mouth.

"fuck... oh, fuck..." she was breathing hard, her moans increasing, her thighs squeezing tighter around your head. you knew she was about to cum, and you didn't want to disappoint her, so you quickened your pace, swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking on it gently. she let out a loud gasp, her legs tightening around your head, her back arching as she came hard.

her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her as she rode out her pleasure. after a moment, her grip on you loosened, and she let out a long, content sigh.

you looked up at her, a smile on your lips, and she grinned back at you. "see," she said breathlessly. "i knew you could be a good girl." you wanted to roll your eyes and disregard the pet name, but your body's response was instantaneous, and you felt yourself grow twitch as the words escaped her lips.

you climbed up her body and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on your lips. "do you want more?" you whispered against her lips, and she nodded. "i want you inside me."

you moved to the edge of the bed, sitting down as you pulled off your boxers, revealing your cock, fully erect, glistening with precum. the dark-haired girl smiled seductively as she crawled towards you, straddling your lap and guiding you inside her with a moan of pleasure.

the sensation of being enveloped by her warmth was overwhelming, and you both moaned in unison when doona's hip began moving achingly slow. she was trying to get a reaction out of you, and you were so lost in the moment that you could barely form a coherent thought.

your eyes left the sight of your member buried deep inside her to meet her intense gaze, your mouth agape and your hands gripping her hips tightly. "pretty," she muttered, her voice husky, kissing the outline of your jaw before trailing down your neck.

your mouth took in her breast, savoring the taste of her skin as she arched into your touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips. she started riding you faster, her hips rolling in a rhythm that was better than any song she had ever sung.

"doona," you managed to gasp out, your hands gripped her waist tightly, your mouth falling against her shoulder, trying to contain yourself.

you didn't know what the two of you were going to be after this, if she would continue playing that stupid game she loved so much, if you could just stay as friends, or if you could somehow get closer, but for now, none of that mattered. all that mattered was her and her soft body.

her hands dug into your hair, and you buried your face in her neck, breathing in her scent. her pussy felt so tight and wet, and you groaned against her neck, your teeth biting at her skin. she started moving faster, and you knew she was close. a loud whine left her throat, and her fingers tightened in your hair, yanking you back to look at her.

"y/n," she whined. "fuck, please. are you close?"

you nodded.

"fuck, baby. you feel so good. come with me, y/n. please." you reached down and circled her clit with your thumb, and her mouth dropped open, her head thrown back as her entire body tensed, her pussy tightening around your dick, pulling you over the edge with her. you groaned, pressing your face into her neck as your cum filled her.

she collapsed on top of you, and the two of you caught your breath.

[gloomskulls]

LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 1

warning(s): dub/non consensual (reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs

Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.

The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.

Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.

He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.

Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.

He wanted you.

Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.

The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.

Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.

"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"

He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?

Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good

As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?

But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?

I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.

Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?

That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.

But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.

He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.

He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.

What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?

He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.

But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.

He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.

What if you didn't reply?

What if you did?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"

He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.

What happens next?

"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"

He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.

Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.

"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.

Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.

"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.

"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.

"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"

Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"

The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.

"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"

He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."

May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"

"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."

By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"

"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone

"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"

Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”

May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."

Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"

"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.

Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.

Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."

"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.

"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."

Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.

May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."

Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."

So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"

Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"

He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.

What if this is a mistake?

But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.

And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

There you were.

"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."

Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."

You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.

Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.

“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”

Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"

"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.

Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.

You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.

When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.

Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.

The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.

But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.

This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.

As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.

He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.

The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.

The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.

Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!

"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"

"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."

You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."

He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.

Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.

Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.

"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"

"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"

"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"

Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."

You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"

"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."

"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."

Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."

That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.

“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”

Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”

“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.

Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.

There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"

You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"

"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."

"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.

'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.

Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"

You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."

Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.

"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.

But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.

Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.

“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.

You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”

The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.

By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.

“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”

The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"

Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"

"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."

Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.

After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.

It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.

However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.

"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"

He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.

"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''

You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.

"I think that's really admirable, Peter."

That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.

Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.

"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."

But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."

But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."

"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"

You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.

The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.

So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.

"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.

After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.

"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."

You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."

Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."

As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.

"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.

You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.

"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.

Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.

"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"

You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."

Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.

Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.

Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.

"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.

Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.

"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.

"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."

Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.

Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."

His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.

"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."

Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"

Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.

"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.

"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."

His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.

"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit

You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth

This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.

He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.

He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.

Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.

Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.

One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.

You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.

Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.

As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.

Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.

Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.

Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.

Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.

His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.

You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.

"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.

"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"

He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.

You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered

The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.

Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.

He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"

Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch

Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"

He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.

Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.

"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

[lalavenderangel]

okay! here it is!

warnings: 18+!!! mentions of sex, murder, blood, stabbing, obsessive behavior, Nicholas himself is just honestly a warning if i’m honest, kind of angsty towards the end? and i think that’s all, if i missed anything please let me know!

word count: 4.3k

this is modern day but in this fic the Scream movie franchise doesn’t exist so the mask does not have a name is only described a little what it looks like. slightly off the movie as i wanted to give it my own twist.

this was not proofread at all so sorry for any mistakes but i do hope you enjoy it!

Ghostface!Nicholas x Reader!

(implied female but don’t believe i fully specified)

The thing about Ojai California was that it was known to be peaceful and serene, it was one of the reasons why you had moved there. Once you finished college you had decided to move there, a small town, artsy-ish and it was away from the craziness of Los Angeles. Sure, LA was nice and UCLA was an amazing college but you weren’t into that scene much at all. One of your closest friends you made in Los Angeles was, though he was truly built for that life.

You had met him at a small party out in West Hollywood, you don’t even know how you got invited but you went with your roommate at the time. You had met him while getting a drink, no not like in the movies when you pour your drink on someone and all of that, no he literally just poured your drink for you and started up a conversation. No numbers or social media was exchanged that night but anytime you and your roommate had gone out he seemed to always be there and each time you guys would talk until he finally had just asked for your number.

Now you two were attached at the hips. Your other friends would sometimes make jokes about your friendship with him, calling him obsessive and weird but you never saw it like that. Nicholas was just shy and wasn’t like the rest of your friends. All they wanted to do was party and get wasted which there was nothing wrong with that but being friends with Nicholas was like a breath of fresh air. He liked staying in and reading books and watching movies and listening to music. He also wanted to be an actor and you knew he would be a great actor one day.

“I just don’t get why you like him so much. I swear he’s got to be like a secret serial killer or something.” Your friend Alexis says.

“He’s not, stop that, none of you have even tried to get to know him. He’s a sweet guy.” You say. It was another night of being out with your friends and you had asked Nick to tag along, which of course they weren’t happy about but you didn’t care. He had excused himself to go to the bathroom and of course your friends took that as their chance to talk shit and it was pissing you off.

“You only think that because you're in love with him or some shit.” Matthew says and you roll your eyes. You weren’t in love with him but you couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him.

“Alright I think it’s best if Nick and I leave.” You say getting up and ignoring their protests. As you were heading to the bathroom you ran into Nicholas.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, noticing the look on your face.

“No not really, can we go please?” You ask him.

“Of course we can, come on.” He says, placing his hand on the bottom of your back. He looks back towards the table, seeing the way each of your friends look at him, smirking to himself as he looks away.

Nick wasn’t always like this, truly he wasn’t but when he met you, something in him snapped. He became obsessed with you. He needed you more than he needed air and he was going to have you, even if that meant killing every single one of your friends. All they wanted was for you to stay away from him but he wasn’t going to let that happen, no, you were his. They needed to go.

After Nick dropped you off back at your apartment he stayed for a bit while you guys chatted. You confessed to him about how your friends felt, apologizing profusely and reassuring him that you in no way felt the same way. He knew, he knew from the second you looked at him. You saw who Nicholas actually was, who he always was before this obsession started. You had also confessed to him that you and Matthew sort of had a thing but you were over it. He knew you were over it when he managed to hire someone to hack into your computer where he found a conversation between you and your older sister. You had told her all about him and she had been the one to point out your feelings for him. You agreed and mentioned how you were going to end the “complicated” situation you had with Matthew.

Matthew was first on his list. He was Nicholas’s competition so of course he needed to be the first to go. He also knew some things about him which made his hatred for him even worse. You and Nick had said your goodbyes and he took off back to his apartment. He set all his stuff down on the little table by his door before heading to his room to get the special voice changing device he bought to make his phone calls. He could have gone and killed him right away but where was the fun in that? He wanted to toy with Matthew, making him completely lose his mind before he killed him, it was all a part of Nicholas’s game.

He grabbed his burner phone he bought and dialed Matthew's number, bringing the phone to his ear and having a satisfied smirk on his face when Matthew answered.

“Who’s this?” He asked.

“Hello Matthew.” Nick says, his voice coming out menacing just like he had hoped for.

“What the fuck, that doesn’t tell me who you are. Prank calls died in the mid 2000's, loser. Fuck off.” The phone clicks and Nick smirks to himself, giving it a while before he calls Matthew you again. “Okay seriously who the fuck are you, quit harassing me.”

“No you listen to me you piece of shit, you’re playing my game now on my fucking time when I say stop, we’ll stop.” Nicholas snaps his patience, already weighing thin.

“Ooo am I supposed to be scared of someone on a phone? Please, have a nice night freak.” The phone clicks again making Nick clench his jaw.

“Fine you want to play this the hard way, we’ll play it the fucking hard way.” He mumbles to himself.

A few days had gone by since the initial phone calls, Nicholas was supposed to make more but he let his anger get the better of him. He had pulled up in front of Matthews apartment building around 11 o’clock, parking his car a ways down, the plates changed for safety measures. He gets out of the car and makes his way into the building completely unseen as he maneuvers around after mesmerizing every detail of the layout in this building. He knew where the cameras pointed and when they shifted. He knew what places he could walk through without being seen. The less eyes on the situation the better. He made his way to the third floor of the building, finding the door of Matthews apartment, bending down to his knees and swiftly picking the lock before letting himself in. He roams the apartment for a moment to make sure no one else was there before he makes his way to Matthew's bedroom. There he laid, fast asleep in his bed in a sleep so deep there would be no way he would wake up anytime soon, not even to what Nick was about to do to him. And maybe that was Nicks doing from earlier in the day.

Nicholas stood at the foot of the bed, head to toe in black along with a white mask, the eyes and mouth so black there was no telling who was under the mask. He walks closer before raising his hand up high with the knife shining a little in the moonlight before he lays stab after stab after stab into Matthew’s back unable to stop himself for a moment before he groans and steps back, looking at Matthew’s mangled back, a sick smile on his face as he tilts his head and watches his blood soak his bed and drip to the floor. There was a thrill to this, a thrill Nicholas never felt before, and he wanted more. He brings his hand covered with a glove and wipes the knife off before he walks out of the apartment, once again avoiding a single person. His heart was pumping as he stripped himself of his costume once he managed to make it back to his car, leaning back in his seat as he caught his breath, a sadistic smirk on his face. He grabs the mask and looks at it for a moment, seeing Matthews splattered blood covering the mask, bringing his thumb in a little and wiping some of the blood off, admiring it on his thumb in the moonlight.

“One down, only a few more to go doll, and then you will be all fucking mine and not a single person will get in my way.” He whispers, sticking his tongue out and dragging the blood onto his tongue, a chill going down his spine before sets the mask down and takes off into the night.

You groan out a little as your phone rings for a third time, realizing you can no longer avoid it as much as you tried. You reached for it, almost dropping it as you do before answering it.

“Hello?” You mumble.

“He’s dead!” You hear Alexis scream into the phone causing a chill to shoot down your spine as you sit up quickly.

“Who is?” You asked.

“Matthew! I came to his place this morning to find him dead!” She creams some more. Your ears started ringing and everything felt like it was going in slow motion as the room spun as you got out of bed. Your phone has dropped as you quickly walk over to put your shoes on, grabbing your keys and phone, hanging up as you run out into the living room. You open the door to find Nicholas on the other side, arm raised as he was about to knock.

“Hey, whoa, what's going on, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” He questions. He was right there and yet his voice sounded a million miles away. “Doll? You’re scaring me.”

“M-Matthews dead.” You breathe out.

“What? How?” His voice sounded panicked as he pulled you into his embrace.

“I don’t know, will you take me to his apartment please?” You whisper into his chest.

“Of course, come on.” He walks with you out of your apartment, arms around you tightly, helping you into his car before he gets in as well. He has to wait for you to tell him how to get there as he’s not supposed to know before he takes off, ‘missing’ a few turns here and there before he finally pulls into the complex. You don’t even wait for him to fully park before you rush out of his car, spotting Alexis right away and heading straight to her. You pull her in for a tight hug as you both cry.

“It was brutal, it wasn’t just some freak thing like breaking and entering, someone deliberately wanted to kill him. He was stabbed over thirty times they’re guessing and his back was so mangled and the wounds were so deep they went through his body as time went on. Who would do such a thing?” Alexis whispered, your stomach dropping as the mental image is painted into your mind. You hear footsteps behind you and you glance over to see a distressed Nick. Alexis saw him too and scoffed.

“Really, you brought him? He didn’t know Matthew like we did.” She says, not caring if he could hear her, in fact she hopes he did.

“I needed someone to drive me, and he was clearly coming over to see me anyway. I don’t see the issue, he knew Matthew enough, stop it.” You whispered, causing her to pull away and walk away from you. You sigh before turning to Nicholas.

“I’m sorry I should have stayed in the car. I was just so worried about you and Alexis, I can’t imagine the pain you two are feeling.” He breathes out but you shake your head and hug him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You say into his chest. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you tightly to his chest, his dark eyes locked on Alexis as she talks to police. He knew he was going to have as much fun killing her as he did Matthew, he just needed to wait for the right moment.

The town was shaken up with the murder of Matthew which meant that for a while Nicholas needed to stay low and what easier way then staying with you? It actually wasn’t even his idea, it was yours. You had told him about how for a few days you were getting creepy phone calls much like Matthew you had and your fear was skyrocketing. Did Nick do that to push you to have him stay with you? Maybe. As time had gone on and people in the town settled again thinking it truly was just some freak thing that happened to Matthew, Nick started planning his next kill. But it was hard to focus when as of the last week you were all over him, not that he minded but he wanted that rush of a murder again. He was itching to kill Alexis as she kept trying to take you away from him.

You, completely clueless to everything in Nicholas’s mind obviously, just for some reason craved him. I mean as mentioned before you always wanted him but this was not just love but lust and lots of it. Maybe it was the way he cared about you so much, or the way that he was willing to stay with you day and night to keep you safe. Or maybe it was the damn way he would come back to your apartment after a two hour gym session, tank thrown over his shoulder, his body dripping in sweat, and those soft grunts he made as he made his way to the guest room, but you were going to go for the first option on the list.

Normally you weren’t like this, you had someone to fulfill that desire but obviously that was no longer a thing. So one afternoon, when Nick walked through the door of your apartment you basically jumped him and you both ended up having sweaty, post gym sex on your kitchen floor and it sent your mind reeling. The way his strong arms held you tightly, the sounds he made, the way his hand fit so perfectly around your throat. He had a mix of praising and degrading you, the degrading taking you off guard but leaving you desperate for more. And his cock? Maybe you were being dramatic when you said this but it was truly a moment of will it fit? And man did Nick make it fit, over and over again until you were a fucked out, cock drunk mess on your kitchen floor. When he saw the way he had, it sent a pride in him knowing that he made you feel that way and he was going to be the only one to do so. He had picked you up gently and carried you to your bathroom where he gave you the best aftercare of your life. And that was it for you. Everytime he would walk through the door you guys would fuck all over your apartment until every inch was no longer left untouched.

It was as if you were addicted to him, in actually more than just a sexual manner as well. You needed him, you felt obsessed with him almost. But it would never compare to the deep feeling of his obsession with you, no he made sure to keep that at bay. Finally one night, as much as he didn’t want to, he had to stop your sexcapades.

“I’m sorry baby, I promised Samuel and Antonio I would hang with them for a couple hours tonight, oh please don’t make that face doll, you know it makes me weak. Look I promise it will only be three hours tops and when I get back I’ll eat this pretty little pussy until you’re an overstimulated little mess. Nothing in return I promise, it will be all about you, and you know how much I get pleasure from giving you pleasure. Is it a deal?” He asked with a bit of a pout.

You looked at him for a moment before you sigh and nod your head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be keeping you in all the time, I just…I’m still scared.” You whisper.

“Oh baby I know, but it will be quick and keep the door locked, I’ll take my key and just stay in your room okay?” You have those special curtains in there so not a single soul will know anyone is here alright. And you know I’ll answer your call right away alright?”

“Alright, have fun, and be safe please, I would be lost without you.” And that wasn’t a lie, you knew you would be lost without him. He smiles as he leans in and gives you a sweet yet super passionate kiss before he gets up to get ready.

He looked at the time on his phone again, he now had about 2 and a half hours left as you ended up getting your way and he fucked you a couple times to keep you happy while he went out. He was watching Alexis from across the way, his car hidden pretty well as he waited for her shift to end. He didn’t have to do the full two hours if he was honest but he wanted to drag out her death a little, he wanted to hear her scream or her life as she looked into his mask, desperate to see a hint of who was behind the mask, knowing it wouldn't matter as she would be long dead after anyway. So if she ended up seeing him, he didn’t care. As soon as her shift was over, she got into her car and drove off back to her place, Nicholas following behind about two cars. When she got to her house, a gift from her parents, he waited until she got inside, and her guard was fully down.

After a moment he got out of his car and made his way around, once again unseen as he made his way to the back where he found out she never kept her door locked. He hid in some bushes and pulled out his burner phone and called her.

“Hello?” She asked as she walked around her kitchen, getting ready to make a snack while she watched a movie.

“Hello.” Nick breathed out.

“Uh, yes?” Alexis questions after a moment of silence.

“Who is this?” Nicholas asked. Alexis looked at her phone for a second before bringing it back to her ear.

“You called me, who were you trying to reach though?” She asked as she continued walking around her kitchen mindlessly.

“What number is this?” He asked, teasing her and knowing he was pissing her off.

“Listen dipshit I don’t know what this is but I’m hanging up.” She says, about to end the call.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you’re playing my game and it doesn’t end until I say so.” Nick snaps. He knew the game was actually about to end, in fact the real game was going to be chasing her around her house before he brutally stabs her to death.

‘Fuck you.” The line cuts off and Nick goes into action, sneaking his way into the house. He stood in the perfect spot that reflected his reflection onto the window above the sink but also in the same spot where he could quickly duck and avoid her catching him if she turned around. He stood there for a moment, head tilted as he watched her every move until she finally made her way to the kitchen sink, lancing up for a moment then looking down then back up again as she gasped and turned around.

“Hello.” She called out and Nicholas shook his head. Has this bitch not seen a single scary movie? You never call out to the killer. He can hear her grab a knife, making her way around the kitchen where he waited, hidden enough for her to have to check twice to see him. Once she was close enough he grabbed her ankle and yanked her to the ground before getting on top of her, their arms wrestling around as she tried to stab him. She did manage to push him off as he allowed her, having her moment to stab him but instead she ran and Nicholas sighed. She really had her chance to slow him down and she didn’t. He got up and ran after her, her screams filling the house but not a single person outside was able to hear her. He had almost got her a couple times but she was a bit faster than he thought. Finally in a rush of adrenaline she managed to slice his thigh, making him hiss before he finally had enough. He got up and managed to get her trapped in a room where he grabbed the back of her head and smack it into a wall before throwing her down, raising his hand an stabbing her over and over again just as he did Matthew, the adrenaline of it all hitting him as he smiled wickedly as he watched her take her last breath, fear in her eyes. He stabbed her a couple more times for his own pleasure before he got up, wiping the knife with his gloved hand and leaving the scene. He would tip off the cops tomorrow, pretending to be a family member saying that they hadn’t heard from her in awhile and how that was not normal. And let them handle the rest from there.

When he got to his car he was still amped up, so he quickly rid himself of his maks and the costume, putting on the clothes he wore out before he paused, noticing the semi deep cut on his thigh.

“Fucking bitch.” He huffed, yanking his jeans on and driving back to your apartment.

When he got back it was him who jumped you this time as soon as he walked through the door, basically ripping your clothes off as he kissed you.

“Good night?” You questioned, giggling a little as he stripped you naked.

“Best fucking night ever.” He says, pulling his clothes off, about to pick you up until you gasped when you saw his thigh.

“Nicholas what happened?” Fuck, he saw it, yet he didn’t think to cover it, his high from the kill to strong.

“Huh, oh that? You know how the guys are, they get wild.” He tries to pick you up again but you wouldn’t let him.

“That looks bad, we need to get you to a hospital.” You say quickly putting your clothes back on in case, helping him pull his jeans back up before he steps back.

“It’s fine.” He breathes out, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Nick, clearly it's not, your thigh is soaked in blood.” You say and he can't help but let out a laugh, a laugh that makes you feel uneasy.

“Oh come on, it’s just a little cut now would you just fucking relax?” He normally wouldn’t be like this with you but his mindstate wasn’t fully back yet and that was his mistake. He should have waited to come back to you.

“Oh excuse me for caring about you.” You snap at him and it makes him snap.

“Care about me? Oh, I don’t think so, doll. No see if you cared about me you would have stopped being friends with Alexis and Matthew the second they kept running their mouths about me, but no, you remained their friends. You let them say all these awful things about me that were never true, barely defended me to them. And don’t get me started on the others, which I’ll handle them eventually.” He says looking at you, a dark and sinister look in his eyes. “See baby this all could have been avoided if you would have just stopped fucking talking to those low life mother fuckers but you didn’t did you? DID YOU?!” He screams in your face.

“Nicholas, you're scaring me.” You whisper as you step back from him a little, making him laugh more as he looks at you, frustrated tears filling his eyes.

“Scared of me? I’m protecting you! I did what I had to, to protect you, to make sure no one took you away from me. And now no one will.” He says pulling the knife out and pointing it at you. “And you doll, you’re going nowhere now, you’re mine forever.”

“Nick, wh-what did you do?” Your eyes well up with tears as you tremble.

“Oh baby, I killed them. But you see they left me no choice, they wanted you to stay away from me, to leave me. And like I just said, that is never happening.” He blinks back his frustrated tears as he steps closer to you, grabbing you harshly and pulling you against him, knife held to your throat. “Say it, say you’re not going anywhere.”

“Nick…” You cry out.

“SAY IT!” He screams.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You cry out.

“That’s right baby, shh it's okay, it's all okay.” His tone changes as he tosses the knife on the couch and hugs you tightly, his fingers brushing through your hair as he shushes you. “It’s just you and me now doll, just you and me forever.” “He whispers.

taglist: @nicholaschavezslut69 @blackynsupremacy

[pucksandpower]

I’m a Feminist

Franco Colapinto x team principal!Reader

Summary: everyone knows that Franco has a thing for older women, okay … so when his team principal turns out to be a (stupidly attractive) older woman, he can’t be held responsible for his actions

Franco sprawls in the chair, arms crossed over his chest like he’s holding court instead of facing an emergency meeting. His grin is wide, cocky even, and wholly unapologetic. Across the desk, you pinch the bridge of your nose, willing patience to come like some kind of divine miracle.

“Explain,” you say, voice flat, your tone giving nothing away. You refuse to let him see how utterly exhausted you already are by this conversation.

“I sneezed,” Franco says with a shrug, “and liked all your pictures. Really, it was — how do you say — an accident.”

You stare. No, you glare. "And commented damn mommy on all of them?”

Franco falters — barely. There’s a half-second where his grin wavers, his bravado cracks, but then it’s gone, replaced by another shrug. “I-I have the flu?”

Your exhale is sharp, just shy of a growl. “Franco.”

“What?” He leans forward now, feigning innocence. “Is it so bad? You look muy guapa in your photos. Should I not celebrate my team principal’s beauty? This feels sexist, no?”

“Sexist?” Your eyebrows climb so high they might leave your face.

“I’m a feminist,” he announces, as if that explains everything.

“Do feminists call their bosses ‘mommy’ in the comments?”

“Only the hot ones,” he shoots back without missing a beat, then quickly adds, “Joking! I’m joking.”

You slam your palms down on the desk, the sound sharp enough to make him flinch, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it widens. “Do you even understand how unprofessional this is? I have sponsors asking me if I’ve been hacked! The CEO of Dorilton Capital called me himself this morning!”

Franco’s face lights up like you’ve just paid him a compliment. “Darren! He likes me. He said I was charming.”

“He said you were a walking HR violation!”

His grin falters again, but there’s something annoyingly endearing about how quickly it returns. “Well, at least he talked about me.”

You sink back into your chair and drag a hand through your hair. God, you’re tired. “Do you even know how this looks? You went through every single photo I’ve ever posted. Franco, that’s-”

“Dedicated?”

“Obsessive,” you snap. “Creepy. Insane.”

“Romantic,” he offers, leaning back again like he’s just solved a puzzle.

“You are twenty-one years old!”

“And you’re …” He trails off, letting the sentence dangle in the air like bait.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

He smirks. “I was going to say timeless.”

“Franco, enough.” Your voice is sharp enough to cut through his bravado, and for the first time, he looks a little serious. “Do you have any idea what kind of position you’ve put me in? If this gets out-”

“It won’t.”

“It already has! You didn’t think people would notice when every post I’ve made since 2016 suddenly has your username in the likes and comments?”

Franco shrugs. “I’m a fan.”

“A fan?” You throw your hands up. “What are you even a fan of? My press conferences? My sponsor meetings? My ability to yell at you when you ruin your tires on lap seventeen?”

His grin returns, this time with a little more sheepishness. “How sexy you look doing that last one, mostly.”

Your head falls into your hands, and for a moment, there’s silence. You think — foolishly — that maybe he’s finally run out of things to say.

But no.

“You never answered my DM,” he says, voice lighter, teasing.

Your head snaps up. “Excuse me?”

“Last week,” he says, tilting his head like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I sent you a DM. Very respectful. Very sweet.”

“I don’t even check my DMs!”

“Well, now I’m offended.” He places a hand over his heart like he’s genuinely wounded.

“I’m going to lose my job,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Franco says, waving you off. “You’re too good to lose your job. Everyone knows that.”

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s dramatic! I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this conversation right now.”

“I can’t believe you’re not flattered,” he counters, leaning forward again. “I thought women liked grand gestures.”

“Grand gestures?” You bark out a laugh, humorless and sharp. “Franco, this isn’t a romantic comedy. You don’t win me over by cyberstalking me!”

“Cyberstalking?” His mouth falls open, mock-offended. “That’s harsh, no? I think of it more like … research.”

“Research?”

“Sí. I’m just a very dedicated employee.”

“Dedicated?” Your laugh this time is louder, more incredulous. “I swear to God-”

“Would it help if I apologized?” He interrupts, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering.

“Yes,” you say immediately.

He doesn’t. Instead, he tilts his head, watching you in that unnervingly focused way he sometimes has, the one that makes you feel like he’s cataloging every detail of your expression. “You wouldn’t believe me, though. Even if I apologized, you’d think I was lying.”

“Because you would be lying.”

“Touché.” He grins again, but this time it’s softer, less of a weapon and more of a shield. “Okay, so maybe I’m not sorry. But I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter.

“I mean it,” he says, and for the first time, there’s something like sincerity in his voice. “I thought it was funny. I didn’t think-”

“That’s the problem, Franco. You didn’t think.”

There’s a beat of silence. For a second, you think you’ve finally gotten through to him. His expression shifts, the grin fading into something that almost looks like remorse.

Then he says, “But if I had thought about it, you’d still be mad, so really, why bother?”

“Franco!”

He laughs, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more liking your pictures, no more comments, no more DMs. Contenta?”

You eye him warily. “You swear?”

“On my life.”

“Franco.”

“On my seat,” he amends, holding a hand to his chest.

You sigh, long and heavy, but you nod. “Fine. Just — keep your head down for a while, okay? Don’t give anyone else a reason to call me about this.”

He stands, smoothing his shirt with exaggerated care. “Anything for you … mommy.”

“And don’t call me ‘mommy,’” you snap as he heads for the door.

He pauses, hand on the handle, and glances back over his shoulder, smirk firmly in place. “Not even in private?”

“Franco!”

He’s laughing as he leaves, the sound echoing in the hallway long after the door closes behind him. You sink back into your chair, exhausted, and wonder — not for the first time —if this job is going to kill you.

And if it does, you think grimly, it’ll probably be Franco Colapinto’s fault.

[drewdoa]

─────────⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─────────

── .✦ # 𝒚𝒐𝒖 • part 1 ; viktor

── .✦ a/n: hey!! so i decided to mix two of my favorite shows together!!! it’s definitely different from what i would usually write but i think it’s such a cool mix and the thought of viktor being obsessive is like rotting in my brain..i hope you enjoy this and tell me if i should make more!!

── .✦ extra info: no gender mention, obsessive behavior, harmless stalking, might be a bit inaccurate to their canon characters

{ inspiration taken from the show “you” on netflix ! }

viktor has always been the type to stay kept to himself. he doesn’t bother anyone or talk to many people besides jayce and you. rotting away in his lab at almost every opportunity presented.

..almost. he’s got a small hobby he tends to every so often, he doesn’t like to talk about it much since it’s a way for him to “de stress”. you’ve noticed lately he carries a what looks like a sketchbook that’s filled to the pages ends with things he’s been doing. pictures, and stickers and pen scribbled all inside, what else could he be doing? scrapbooking you thought!

one lazy morning though, around the crack of dawn basically, viktor was caught up in that book. going through page after page, admiring his past works. they all look similar. about the same..person?

you watch him carefully from a distance, in the hallway where his lab leads. what is so important about that book? why can’t jayce know about it? why can’t i know about it? are you hiding something crazy from me? do you feel like id judge you? all of these things race through your mind, though you reassure yourself with the fact it could just be something personal and you must respect that.

what are you so infatuated with. finally it’s about time you try and mention it, to test the waters if you will.

⌗˳⳿⤏ “viktor?” your mouth spits out, a bit of a distance between you two.

he’s caught just a bit off guard by your voice, he then relaxes just enough to give you a proper response.

“yes?” his body then turns to you, his chair fitting his body perfectly as he comfortably leans his arm on the armrest.

“i just wanted to check on you since you’ve been here for..a little while again” you take a pause before glancing at his prized possession before back at his face.

“i’ve been caught up with studies and working, im sorry i didn’t warn you beforehand. but you should be here too you know.”

“i’ve noticed you’re a fan of journalism too hm? a little expected though” you say as you step a little closer to him.

“…it’s been something i do on the side, i didn’t think you knew about journaling. you do most of that with jayce and his phone with a drink in your hand”

you freeze at his slick ass comment. as much as you wanna flick him in the forehead for it, you can’t, cause he’s right. you and jayce have been drinking quite a lot lately instead of focusing on the projects in which viktor has done most of your work.

“if i had the right to beat your ass i would’ve.” you reply while folding your arms. you take another glance at viktor’s book and there’s a familiar face in there. it looks hand drawn, a little accurate to..

“if you don’t mind, i’ve got work to finish, some that you should be helping with but there’s no point now..come back later. and bring my “partner”, i’ve got a lot of work for him.” his tall lanky figure rises from the chair as he grabs his cane, walking to the doorway and taking you with him.

“maybe one night i could show you what ive been doing..i think you’d enjoy the cage.”

✮⋆˙ hello!! i hope you liked this post :)) i was planning on making this like my own little series!! do let me know if you’d like a second part or any other requests (my asks are open <3) :D -drew

[motelroomjesus]

whooo I finished ep 4 and 5 of The Heart Killers

I still don't like Kant, I'm warming up to Bison, still obsessed with FadelStyle, and I want Style carnally.

I'm also really interested in how they're using the music and soundtrack to emphasize the emotions of some scenes.

This post is about to be longer than my usual since it's covering two eps but anyway

Spoilers under the cut !

Me when I overanalyze my BL:

First and foremost, that pat down scene in ep 4 where Fadel maintained eye contact with Kant as he searched him... How do u put that there and expect ppl to not imagine things, Jojo..... 😫 Even the goofy music in the background couldn't dissuade me from thinking they should hate fuck ☝️ but anyway

It's very obvious that while Style isn't fully committed and his feelings for Fadel are just starting to bloom, he definitely wants that man. Atp where we are in ep 4 he's obviously lusting after that man (face economy, body tea). I mean he gave him, apparently, the best sex of his life in a grief meeting storage room. He let the man cut his little crop top off. The lust of it all is so real. But I think now, after the chase, after spending more time with him, especially after hearing how Fadel was asking where he was, he's pursuing Fadel with more sincere intentions and I think he truly wants to know Fadel more. And lord have mercy, that scene in the woods.

That scene in the abandoned warehouse in the woods, aside from the iconic "I don't like that I miss you", is when I first noticed the soundtrack specifically highlighting the emotions. Now, I know soundtracks are meant to do that but I think they're doing it in a really fun way IDK They put a lighthearted cute, and low-key hopeful, little tune over a heated make out and handjob. It felt like it reflected their emotions in that moment really well and how the audience is meant to see the scene. It's not just a hot and heavy make out session because yay official, it's an indicator of a turning page, especially for Fadel. It's a signal that he can get butterflies in his stomach too, even with his enormous walls and stoic mask (defense mechanism), and I'm sticking to that interpretation. I love u my emotionally and sexually repressed little hitman.

And then Kant came in and decided NOW is the perfect time to finally tell his friend that oh yeah ur new bf is a hitman. It's not even that part that actually annoyed me, it's the little quip when Style says gunman instead of hitman. Like I'll kill u with a gun Kant. 😭

I fear I may never truly warm up to him, he is so annoying to me. 😔

Okay so ep 5, I kind of warmed up to Bison. He's cute he's fun, he's totally ignoring his instincts about Kant even tho he knows better. He seems less than helpful in most scenarios though, but whatever

There were two scenes that caught my attention and they were obviously meant to:

1) Kant and Bison post coital cuddles

2) Style and Fadel's intimacy towards the end of the ep

I'm mostly talking about the music again and the intentional use (or absence) of it. During the KantBison scene, when Bison is being so gentle with his kisses and telling Kant tender words, the music reaches a subtle crescendo once Bison says he feels like his life is changing since he met Kant and the camera lands right in Kant's distressed face. It was a great way to signal that Kant is gonna face the music very soon. I found that fun and I had to rewind a couple times just to make sure I wasn't making it up in my head. Could just be a transition sound choice, but I'm reading into it.

The KantBison scene felt like a big contrast next to the FadelStyle scene to me. At this point I think they're both feeling more than they're letting on for each other. Fadel and Style's night is, mostly, quiet. There's no backtrack for the most part. Fadel is splayed out in the bed just watching Style take his shirt off, exposing himself more than Fadel, and caging Fadel in by crawling on top of him. Style is on top of him kissing him, doing what he wants to, and Fadel is letting him. Style is telling Fadel that he wants to be trusted, he wants more from Fadel and he's willing to wait for him to be ready. He means it. And I know there's the component of this all starting for some car and Style now being aware of the reality of the situation but I think that's the point. That's the point of doing this specific scene with the absence of a backtrack until Style starts getting actually frisky. When Style is saying all of this and kissing Fadel's scar, we only listen to his words, their breathing, and their kisses. It's bare bones, but that's the point. To bare it all.

Did I read into that too much? Maybe! but idgaaaaffff. I'm eating this shit up and having fun dissecting things that maybe don't need dissecting. :P

I think it's obvious I'm more invested in FadelStyle than KantBison.... zorry! They put me-targeted drugs in FadelStyle. It's not my fault. 🧍

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Hello

I am a recent fan of Supernatural. I finished the series in just two months and wanted to try to make friends with the fandom of the series in my country because I am Brazilian. I joined a group and was excited to talk to people who were as passionate about the show as I was.

I met a really cool girl who told me that she believes that Jensen is Misha and has a romantic relationship. At first, I didn't want to believe it because it seemed like a fan theory that ships Destiel and wants to go further and ship the actors too.

Anyway, this girl told me things that rented a triplex in my head. I thought about it so much that I started looking for information until I found your post on Tumblr explaining Jenmish in chronological order.

I spent hours reading about it and noticing every detail. What I have to say is that you analyzed everything in such an excellent way. This post is of public service in my opinion. Knowing all of this warmed my heart because I was kind of so sad about what happened to Castiel and Dean at the end of the series. The possibility of Jenmish being real made me happier than words can describe. It may be a silly thing but I will believe in it as long as Jensen and Misha keep giving as many possible signs.

I sent your article to my friends in the group and even those who didn't believe in it now believe it. LOL.

Anyway, it was a long speech but I would like to ask something.

What do you think about Misha's relationship with his new girlfriend Emily?

Do you think Misha has been a little more restrained towards Jensen because of this new relationship?

I'm asking because I'm new to this fandom and I don't know much about it, so I wanted to know your opinion because I love your analyses.

(Sorry for any mistakes, I don't speak English, I'm using the translator to write this. :))

oh my gosh, thank you! it always blows my mind when i find out that my obsessive little project has spread so far. i'm glad i could be of service! xD and don't worry, the english is great.

i actually don't know a lot about emily, as it was only relatively recently that misha made his relationship with her public. i think it's great that they're happy together, but my policy with real people is that i only engage with what they have deliberately chosen to share. the hijinks that misha and jensen get up to knowing they're on camera is entirely fair game to speculate on, in my opinion, but if they haven't chosen to share anything publicly, i think it should stay private and i generally won't speculate on it.

while i suppose it's possible, it doesn't really seem to me like misha has actually toned much down, to be honest. he's said that emily and jensen are really good friends, and i doubt he'd be in a serious relationship with anyone who wasn't supportive of the fact that he's polyamorous.

but since emily doesn't really have a public persona like misha and jensen do, i don't want to be too nosy or speculate about her too much. she and misha seem happy together, and that's really all i want or need to know.

i'll say though, that for someone who is new to cockles and has had a look at the sheer size of my cockles masterlist, i can see how it might seem like things have been more quiet or uneventful recently. the sheer amount of cockles content makes it seems like insane events must be happening all the time, and if they're not, something might be wrong!

however, it's extremely normal for there to be long periods of nothing between majors cockles incidents. all the entries on that long list have been spread out over fifteen years! actually, in the last few years we've had quite a bit MORE cockles than we used to get, as we've gotten several jensen/misha panels during the regular convention season in america, due to jared missing several cons and misha taking it his place. it used to be that we got ONE cockles panel a year! we would look forward to jibcon in italy all year, because it was practically the only time we'd get to see them on stage together.

sadly, we do get less cockles outside of conventions nowadays, since the guys are busy with different projects and live far away from each other. but we got several shared panels this year, and they were clearly thrilled to be together every time. :)

anyway, i hope that answers your question! i completely agree with you about the comfort and happiness that cockles brings in light of the tragedy of destiel, it really does help the heartache to know that for once it was real life that got the happy ending. take care! <3

[himexyandere]

Hi Hime!

I'm a recent fan of yours and wow am I obsessing over your OCs. I think ive scrolled through your entire feed on both this account and your other on them.

I'd love love love to hear more about Vivian and Mikka! How they fall in love, how they will woo their loves, and more yandere-specific things like are they stalkers, what would push them into kidnapping, and any other interesting yan tidbits you could share about them

I am starving for more content and your wonderful creations have pulled me further into degeneracy. Like actually foaming at the mouth.

Thank you, Hime. Love u <3

p.s is canna a yandere as well, or no? I recall seeing something about him being obsessive but i am not sure.

Hey there! First of all, I just wanna say that I'm glad you like my OC's so much, my friend ^^ I think that's one of the best compliments I could ever receive! I'll answer those questions for you!

How they fall in love:

Mikka isn't quick to fall in love, actually. His love starts off with obsession, which will eventually morph into something softer. He's the type to fall second, but falls harder.

Vivian is the exact opposite; he craves love and desperately seeks it. He's afraid of rejection, however, but he still wants to love someone and get married ASAP! His love is overwhelming, sometimes

How they woo their love:

Mikka isn't one to preen, but he'll do what he can to show off in front of his love interest to convince them he's their best option. Mikka was raised with the mindset of "the best mate is a mate who can provide", and so he'd woo his love interest by showing that he is literally the best choice ever

Vivian is a hopeless romantic, so he tries to do things by-the-book, AKA, buying his love interest gifts, sending them cute texts, taking them out of dates, etc. He wants to be the perfect partner for them, and he's willing to do whatever he can to make that happen.

Are they stalkers:

Yes to both.

What would push them into kidnapping:

Mikka doesn't need much of a push lmao. He would do it if he thought it was necessary, and for a man who thinks getting rid of his competition (however weak) is necessary, you can't really trust his judgement-

Vivian has a lot more tolerance than Mikka before he'd resort to kidnapping because that could ruin all his hard work, undoing the affection he's managed to build up with his love interest. That doesn't me he wouldn't, however, if he saw that his attempts at wooing them weren't going anywhere.

Interesting Yandere tidbits:

Mikka experiments with drugs on the side, so the chances of him drugging his love interest are exponentially high.

Vivian has a scent kink, and his obsession with taking his love interest's clothing started fairly early.

To finish it off, no, Canna isn't an actual yandere! He has a few yandere tendencies, but I wouldn't consider him a full-fledged yandere at least not yet-

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

Last Song: The Bullet by Birdeatsbaby

Favorite colors: blues blues bluesss

Last Book: just finished The Twisted Ones by T Kingfisher, it was really fun!! defo skews closer to fantasy than horror but doesn't suffer for it and as her last book literally gave me nightmares I cannot complain.

Last Movie: oh god on my life I never watch movies so I have a horrible feeling it might in fact be Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed. someone needs to shoot me.

Last tv show: very veryvery nearly finished the first season of Star Trek Deep Space Nine but I also started watching The Terror a few days ago and I'm having fun :]

Sweet/spicy/savory: sweet!

Relationship status: somehow I have ended up with a gorgeous amazing girlfriend and I am grateful every day. but also ashamed because she was literally writing wax sealed letters to me all summer and I still thought maybe we were just really good friends ;-;

Last thing i googled: 'john mulaney quotes' in order to assign them all to ttrpg characters in my current campaign. my little bitch of a bureaucrat Kirrin is very much a 'I'll keep all my emotions here and then one day I'll die' type of vibe.

Current obsession: the silt verses. the q&a made me irreparably unhinged I fear I will die in this hole. Jon Ware what do you MEAN Paigeward weird aromantic cult hookups were almost canon

Looking forward to: visiting my friend next term (after a trip got cancelled :/), some prints I ordered of @thedapperraven's art arriving, putting my friends' dnd characters through the wringer in our next session, finally finally finishing this bitch of a dissertation ;-;

uhhh once again gonna wimp out on tagging more people but anyone's welcome to join if you want!!

Ten people I’d like to know better!

Tagged by: @eternalmomentss (pinky responding to a tag game?? Unheard off)

Last song: god games cus wah epic is so cool and I can’t wait for the last saga

Favourite color: despite common believe it is not Pink. My favourite color is yellow. Everything in my life must be yellow

Last book: the haunting of hill house, (still haven’t finished it:,) )

Last movie: look back! (Watched it together with my brother)

Last tv show: wel the newest helluva boss episode just came out so I watched that (that’s a YouTube series I GEUSS but it counts to me)

Sweet/spicy/savoury: bitter

Relationship status: in a relationship for the bit (/j I’m very single)

Last thing I googled: the weather (boring ass answer but I live in the Netherlands okay, it rains allot😭😭)

Current obsession: I Geuss dream smp? I’m kinda in between things but I’ve been doing a dream smp rewatch for the nostalgia

Looking forward to: traveling to Scotland at the end of this month to hang out with friends>:)!!

Tagging next:

@ianthewife @liefdesleven @lycanthrowup (hi Rane!) @unbloodiedmartyr @molarcupcake @tiabwwtws-art @disastrousfeline @melandrops @dumptruckofanass @notactuallyahat @lights-at-night @mizuthe-cat @3584-tropical-fish @garfieldpinkeye @initial-lime @honeydoe12

(Oh gosh I tagged way too many, no pressure to anyone! Also still wish I could add more lol, so many cool mutuals)

(Funfact: the reason I almost never respond to tagging games is because I’m too scared to tag people and forget a cool mutual :,) )

[halfax-a]

Lin and tumblr

The past year has changed how i use this website quite a lot, and i have feelings about it.  Here, i’m writing a mini essay to help me make my mind up what to do about it all.

The first big painful truth i have to face is: i don’t like my dashboard anymore. I find it increasingly hard to sit and just scroll through and pay attention. I know that a few years ago it used to be better balanced - divided into fandom content, meme content and music content. 

This year, more than ever, saw the absolutely bonkers avalanche of fandom content, which cannibalised both music and meme side of things. I experienced genuine mass hysteria with the flood of people, and i don’t regret that or hate that, but all of it ended up feeling more like witnessing a group of friends having an absolutely insane party - through the front window of their hourse, having your nose pressed to the glass. 

Why it felt so much like that, can be anointed to how i chose to interact with tumblr - 2022 was the year i fully turned to blog-crawling. It ended up impacting me a lot - in ways you can see (7 fandom posts in a row reblogged from one blog), and in ways you can’t (all those hours reading and internalising and the r word). Waking up every day, obsessively searching up 5 to 12 different blogs and spending up to 3 hours just reading updates (combined with my brief stint on twitter in the summer) fucked me up quite well, i think. 

Well. Actually. This is not new behaviour for me. Obsessive checking of tumblr blogs, forum threads and twitter accounts dates back well into 2016. But this is the first time it has fucked with my enjoyment of this site, and i am at a loss what to do.

I feel trapped. My brain does not think it can go without tumblr, because twitter, instagram, even the mighty youtube have surrendered to this blue hellsite, and let it reign the supreme doom scroll hole of my life. 

At the same time, i recognise that i am not really truly having a good time on here(or at least as much as i used to). The more time i spend on specific blogs, the less i am on my dash, which means the less opportunities i have to make connections with my remaining mutuals, and to make new ones.

I feel trapped and i feel isolated. A few years ago i used to know at least 5 blogs that were guaranteed to appear in my notes at any given time. There were more tag games, more casual @/ing and more interaction. Nowadays i feel quite alone. Yes, i did bring this onto myself with 1. aforementioned blog crawling and 2. jumping into excessive fandom posting. I’m just afraid that getting out of there is not as easy as it used to be. 

I’ve seen a lot of people move on, or drift out of my circles over the years, which makes reconnecting with old acquintances/old topics of interest difficult or downright impossible. And as i get on in age (in my old age of 22), i get increasingly nervous seeing 16,15, 14-year-old on here, and interacting with their blogs.

I am also a bit at a loss for how to curate my dash to regain that optimal meme/fandom/music equilibrium. Meme culture has changed a dizzying amount since 2018, and i know i have been left behind. With music and fandom cannibalising and engulfing each other (in that shiver-inducing mass of conciousness known as “mcr fandom”), i am left to try and find some “general” content. But from where??????

All of these things combined has made me feel like i might have to ditch tumblr soon. Either i put in massive amounts of energy, overhaul my dash and find out what i enjoy (while being concious of how to keep the parts of fandom that are truly enriching for me, when the mass hysteria inevitably starts again), or i log off, block, and try to keep my doomscrolling urges fed on fanfiction and youtube shorts.

With my unfortunate mental state, i sure know which seems easier

Now. Why am i still here at this very moment then?

It’s because of drafts! 

See, in my mind, it is possible to Finish Tumblr. During my years here, i have amassed a significant amount of drafts - gifsets, link masterlists, audio, video and photos, and each of them serves a purpose - to remind me to Consume that thing. The day i listen to the final album, final song, the day i watch the final tv show, movie, the day i let that final draft go; that’s when i can say i have Completed Tumblr, and can log off with a light heart. 

So, i haven’t acknowledged it, but i actually have a concrete goal in mind here, and as long as i work on that, i’ll be shackled to this blue hellsite

[astronnova]

danny phantom cast explorations and thoughts :v

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos

[wowstrawberrycow]

tagged by @elvenhymntoelbereth

Last song: Dream a Little Dream cover by Pink Martini. Original song is by Doris Day. I love Pink Martini and Doris Day 💗💖

Favorite color: it's a tie between rainbows, glitter, and pink. I'm a barbie. What do you expect me to say🤣

Last book: I'm rereading Lotr The Two Towers for a drabble request! I take my requests very seriously💝 Mainly the chapter regarding the battle of helm's deep. That's my request.

Last movie: I would say Barbie in the nutcracker, that i watched with @elvenhymntoelbereth . Buttt, that's not true. Because, I watched Labyrinth yesterday. Gods fuckin bless you David Bowie😍

Last TV show: I'd say The Ring's of Power. I did finish that recently. 😂😂😂 But, I watched an episode of Sofia the First sometime after that! 🤣🤣🤣 Don't judge me. I'm a very complicated individual and my media taste is whiplash. Sue me!

Sweet/savory/spicy: SWEET!!! but also savory. I often like mixing savory and sweet flavors together. My tummy does reject sugar overload though. So I'm not that bad about sugar.

Relationship: I am in a relationship with my partner @cerberussys. We are both poly sooo. I'm over here like um...Ummm... Y'all wanna talk to me?? I'm a Lesbian 😉

Last thing I googled: Dear gods don't judge me 😬 I'm writing a drabble for a request by @valar-did-me-wrong and @gauntletgirlie. It's a hurt/comfort drabble involving Adar X Gil-galad. I'm shooting for one where Adar faces racism. Buttt, in order to do that I have to research violent racist crimes. It's for quality content purposes I swear!!!

Current obsession: Gay Middle Earth ships. Elrond X Thranduil, Elrond X Adar, Adar X Celebrimbor (they are subby/subby), Legolas X Gimli. Please send help. Actually, feed the fire. Hit me up if you wanna RP.

Looking forward to: I'm honestly not sure??? Maybe starting work again? I'm really tired of being broke all the time.

Wanna play???? @gauntletgirlie , @bugstuff4ever, @gentlefauna , @silvereyesofelivostis , @valar-did-me-wrong , @nt-yrs , @firelightinferno , @greenleaf4stuff , @scholarlyhobbit

tagged by @dicetardly

Last song: Säga mig by Linnea Henriksson because @woodlandrealm made me listen to it and now it's living in my head rent free

Favorite color: id say purple atm, but i don't have only one favorite

Last book: The thirst by Jo Nesbø (im not entirely done reading it yet tho)

Last movie: Barbie in the nutcracker, that i watched with @wowstrawberrycow because this is what adults do

Last TV show: ive been rewatching Castlevania lately

Sweet/savory/spicy: savory or spicy are my favorite things

Relationship: i have the most wonderful boyfriend ever and im the happiest<3

Last thing I googled: "how to write smut" don't judge me im tRYING lmao

Current obsession: gale dekarios, he makes me feral and i want to bark fkljkjrez

Looking forward to: a good night of sleep, im begging at this point

I tag @tisseflamme (just to be annoying), @woodlandrealm (also just to be annoying but ill understand if you don't want to do it because you hate me and all, it's ok i guess :( ), @windforkthewriter and @wowstrawberrycow (my barbie friend)

no pressure of course, love yall<3

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[muckyschmuck]

ultimately!