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wesstars · 7 months

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touch

jenna ortega x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: jenna, your lovely girlfriend, has been away filming for far too long, in your opinion. she thinks so, too. wc: 2.6k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI. all characters are 18+. phone sex, masturbation, bad dirty talk lmao, this is basically all bad dirty talk, light D/s dynamics, name calling/slight degradation, praise, reader is a soft dom, strap-on referred to as “cock,” horribly excessive use of italics, feels a bit odd writing rpf… a/n: @crazyoffher :) returning the favor!

masterlist

6:01 pm

call u in a sec?

A grin lighting up your face at the text, you hurriedly type an affirmative reply as you unlock your apartment door. Dropping your bag, you kick your shoes off, sighing as you shed your coat. Making a beeline for your bedroom, your eyes slide shut as you flop down on your gigantic bed. You’d washed the sheets earlier, and they were feeling extra soft. If Jenna were here, she’d be rolling around in them, covering her own scent with one of fresh linen.

Usually, she was—you were lounging in your shared apartment, a wide open space near the top of a sleek, tall building. Every evening in LA, the two of you could be found here, the appeal of a night in far exceeding that of a night out. A bottle of wine and a packet of popcorn to share wasn’t rare either, the expensive drink wasted on you two young lovers.

Everything had happened so quickly, but you loved it. A chance meeting on a plane had led to a long conversation about anything and everything, so common for new couples, and one-drink dates across busy nights had culminated into a fateful party invitation and an equally fateful blushing confession. Your relationship was wild, and crazy, and everything you could’ve wanted. A year later, Jenna had surprised you with a set of keys. It was a certain kind of promise that made those long nights, waiting for a phone call from half a world away, so worth it.

As if on cue, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Seeing the ID, you instantly pick up.

“Jenna?”

“Hey,” her familiar voice comes shyly through the speaker, a comforting sound. “Are you busy?”

“No, I just got home from work.”

Jenna hums in a way that tells you she’s plotting something, and her little stifled giggle just confirms your suspicions. You fake a sigh, happy to venture into her ploy.

“Jenna, did you have something to drink?”

“No.” She huffs a laugh. “I just miss you. Tired of me already?” She asks, with innocent veneer.

“Of course not,” you say. “It’s good to hear from you, you're so busy now, I had to talk to your secretary,” you teased. She was busy, but you’d already done the calculation of Jenna’s timezone to yours—for her, filming would’ve just wrapped up in the midnight hours. For you, the setting sun was just beginning to stream through the glass walls, and you pressed the button on the nightstand to draw the curtains.

“Well, if you’re not busy,” Jenna presses on casually, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Jenna,” you smile. It was a dialogue you two had often, something you never tired of.

“Mmm,” Jenna’s voice tugs in your stomach, lilting into a whine at the end of her emission, “I miss you, baby.”

Your mouth goes dry; it’s an automatic reaction. Damnit, this girl—she knew what kind of effect she had on you. You were glad the room was dark, because if you had to face your own blushing cheeks in the light, you might’ve just collapsed. You pull the phone away from your ear long enough to take a deep breath. “Do you, Jen?” Keeping your voice composed, you roll the end of the duvet between your fingers to keep you grounded.

“Miss you so much,” she says, the rustling in the background telling you she’s rolling on the covers. She lets out a lilting laugh, the sound sending a swooping, giddy feeling into your stomach. Jenna’s trying to lure you in; it was her game: enticing you with that docile, persuasive tone.

You decided to play, though you held back just a bit. “How much?”

“Some of your clothes still smell like you,” she says in lieu of a direct answer. “So I’m wearing your big shirt, the black one.” You’d been wondering where that shirt went, one you often slept in. Even now, you can see in your head how Jenna looked when she stole that shirt: it cut off at her thighs, the kind of sacrilegious short that inspired crimes. It reminds you of countless times she’d surprised you, when you slid your hands up under the hem to find—

“What else, Jen?”

“No bra,” she replies sweetly, laughing lightly at the end.

“No bra, huh,” you repeat. You can practically feel your pupils dilating, the heat around your collar. “Good.”

“And this,” Jenna sighs, “lace number I got here; it looks like the one you gave me last year.”

Your jaw clenches, and you glance at the clock, looking but not seeing. You remember what she’s talking about—a pair of panties, an expensive little excuse for fabric that grew dark at the slightest moisture. Jenna’s birthday had ended in a long, long night.

“It’s red,” she says, “just like my nails.”

Fuck. Everything feels hot, and you can just picture her in that standard issue trailer, lights dimmed, alone in a way that should be illegal. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot… got an early morning tomorrow.” There's a trailing edge of disappointment in her voice, but you’re familiar with her—she’s looking, hoping for you to guide her, to push her in the way only you know how.

You breathe in, deeply, your own desire quickly falling prey to Jenna’s. She had you wrapped around her little finger, that’s for sure, but she trusted you to hold her down. “Hand in your hair, Jenna. Gentle,” you instruct.

You hear her sharp inhale, but you have no question that she’ll listen. When Jenna gets like this, playful but pliant, you know she’s willing to go with just about anything you ask. It’s torture for you, each second you wait. “Now pull.”

Her responding whimper sends a bolt of heat down your neck, and you let out a silent breath. Jenna loved it when you would touch her hair, even when it was as innocent as just braiding it. The haze in her eyes when you’d tug on her locks, telling her how good she feels, was your favorite. “Harder. Do you like it?”

She breathes out, “yeah.”

“Good,” you say. “Tell me what’s been on your mind to get you eager like this.” She’s shy, you hear it in her sigh, even though her hands are still running in her hair. “C’mon.”

“I miss your mouth on my neck.” The words tumble out of her almost immediately, and you dare to wonder if that’s been on her mind all day. The bruises you’d left there before filming started were long gone, no doubt. She’d begged you to make them darker, and you were all too happy to please. “I miss the car, before the airport…”

Those frantic, heated ten minutes you two were able to spare in the car before Jenna’s flight were chastised by her manager and makeup team, but you wouldn’t have traded them for anything. “That’s perfect Jen,” you coax gently. She liked your encouragement, you knew.

“And…” it’s as if something snaps in the air on the telephone line, pushing both you and Jenna’s inhibitions to the ground. “I wish you were here,” she whispers, the cliche line sending equally cliche butterflies rushing through your lower stomach. “I’d be on my knees for your cock right now, and you’d pull my hair, so I’d-” she whines, a small and breathless noise-“suck it so good ‘cause I know where it’s going next—”

“Fingers in your mouth,” you interrupt, blood rushing in your ears. “And listen to me.” If you’d let Jenna keep going, you might’ve just booked a plane ticket right then and there. You can hear her obey you through the speaker, moaning softly. “Play with your nipples under your shirt. Be gentle.” It’s a warning, you know she knows, and a reminder that you control her pace.

“Mmm,” she hums, complying. It’s practically confession on bended knee, how her muffled whimper makes something shoot through your lower stomach.

“Press down on your tongue.” You hear her breath shaking, right in your ear. It makes you bite your tongue to keep from moaning out loud. “Don’t gag, don’t be greedy, Jenna.” She whines around her fingers, and you know her telltale little cry as she touches herself as instructed. You can hear that she’s not being as gentle as you wanted, but you had always been weak for your girl.

“You wanna put on a show for me, honey? Twist.” You wouldn’t know it, but Jenna instantly closes her eyes at the word show, her pulse spiking.

Jenna’s uneven breaths are pure song to you through the speaker, and it puts your every nerve on edge, remembering how she would sprawl on your sheets, just like how you were now, happy to be over or under you. She’s so vocal tonight, every exhale coming out with a small oh, and it makes you wonder if it’s because of something more than just the distance and time between you two.

The cadence of her breathing matches your stuttering heart. “For someone that likes having her mouth stuffed,” you mutter, “you sure wanna talk real bad.”

The whimper Jenna lets out is enough of an answer.

“Alright babydoll, you can take your fingers out.” Almost immediately, you can hear her panting. You keep your voice even, despite the heat on your cheeks. “I bet you’re soaked, aren’t you?”

Her voice is raspy when she speaks. “I am…”

“Two fingers in your cunt.”

“What about-” you can hear her swallow- “what about my underwear?”

“Push it to the side,” you say, dismissive. You could practically see Jenna like this, warm brown hair splayed on the pillows, shirt rucked up to her breasts, with enough want to end a war.

It’s silent on the other side of the line, save for the shallow breaths you hear her taking. “Are you waiting, good girl?”

She hums an affirmative.

“Go ahead, I won’t make you beg right now,” you say with a nonchalance you absolutely do not have, “fuck yourself.”

Her breathy laugh in response would drive a saint to sin, and she’s only all too eager to comply. Jenna’s shudder comes out in her moan as she shoves two fingers in herself, shameless in her need.

You close your eyes, her quiet little moan telling you all you need to know. The impatient groan she gives you is just vulnerable enough to be desperate, and it makes your head swim.

Jenna’s voice is small. “You know…”

“What is it, darling?”

“Wish I could put this on a camera for you, baby,” she whines, breath hitching. “Wish you could watch me right now.”

The mere thought of it is enough to have you biting your lip, hard enough to bleed. With the way that Jenna loved to perform, the idea had occurred to you before, but you were always too hesitant to bring it up. “You want me to see you, don’t you? Blushing and wanting all by yourself,” you mock, your arousal overriding your rationality, “you need someone to fuck you, is that it?”

“I need you to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I don’t remember it all, and,” her voice breaks, “you’ll make me watch our video later, to make me like this again.” You close your eyes again, your knuckles growing white around the sheets fisted in your hand.

“Like what, Jenna?”

“Messy, and-” her voice climbs higher with a gasp-“needy.”

The words cling in your mind, ivy on a terrace. It only takes half a moment for your mind to conjure her up again, flushed cheeks and two fingers deep in her pussy, framed by red lace.

“Is that what you are, mmm?”

She gives a moan, and you laugh because she’s embarrassed. It’s nearly pathetic, how bad you wish you could see Jenna’s face.

“Want…” There’s a hesitant pause. “Want your hand around my throat, too.”

God, no one knew how to play you quite like Jenna did. “Jenna,” you groan, your facade rapidly crumbling, “you’d look so pretty like that, baby.”

“Yeah,” Jenna agrees mindlessly, “I like it ‘cause…” her voice is strained in a way that you just know she has her head thrown back, strong and delicate, “you’re so gentle.” It’s with a bleeding intimacy that momentarily makes you forget you’re thousands of miles away from Jenna, and the only thing you can think of is her warm eyes on yours, just begging for you to touch her.

She quiets down, and in the damning silence that follows, you hear her fucking herself. And because you know your girl, you know she wants you to hear.

“That’s filthy, Jen,” you say, matter-of-factly. It makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightening.

“I know,” she whines, and you can hear her going just that bit faster. “Fuck-” she exhales sharply- “I’m—I’m close.”

“Already?”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna whispers, and you know with every hitched moan, she’s hitting that spot inside of her. She’s not sorry, and you certainly aren’t either. “I can’t help it…”

You hum noncommittally, feeling anything but. “Don’t come until I say, alright?”

Jenna moans right into the receiver, and you can tell she’s frustrated to high hell. You laugh lowly, something cruel, and it only serves to fuel the way your fingers crave the smooth of her skin, how your tongue wants for her taste.

But that’s when you hear it, blazing through the fog in your mind, of brown eyes and pink lips. “Please…”

“Please what?”

She falters, breathing ragged. “Please let me…” A beat.

“Let you…?” You press on.

“Please,” her voice edges on the right side of desperate, the side that makes all of you pulse. “Baby, I’m so close…”

“I know,” you say simply.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air, and you know without seeing that Jenna’s cheeks are so red with her embarrassment that you could’ve slapped her and not gotten that same glow. You wait, patiently, nails biting into your skin.

“Let me come, please.” Her voice comes out like a quiet sob, resistance broken by her desire.

Letting out a long breath, you press the phone harder to your ear, feeling your fingers tremble. “You’re such a needy slut, Jenna.” She whines again, pleading and keening.

“I know,” she’s soft with it, “I am… so, please?”

You bite your lip, mind swimming, letting her plea hang in the air.

“Come for me, Jenna.”

It's quiet, at first, and then you hear it—a soft, little ah from where she’s clapped a hand over her mouth, and then muffled moans spilling out from behind as she tries so desperately to not let anyone else hear. You clench your jaw, wanting so bad to tear Jenna’s hand from her mouth just so you can take in every little whimper, quiet her with your mouth instead. But you whisper praises into the phone instead, coaxing her through her orgasm. She comes hard, you can hear it in the way she pants after she’s calmed down.

Jenna’s breathing evens out, and you know it before she does—she’s asleep. Your eyes close again, fist clenched in your bedsheets. It wasn’t the first time that she’d fallen asleep right after she came, and it makes a soft little grin play on your lips. The other end of the line is a loving, sated silence. You keep your voice low, not wanting to wake her.

“God, the things I’m gonna do to you, Jenna.”

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

#project wes #fanfiction #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega smut #smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #reader insert #self insert #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega fanfiction #jenna ortega fic #lgbtq #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x reader #how can I snooze and miss the moment you’re just too important #tara carpenter x reader

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chai-berries · 8 months

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thinking..thinking about napping with abby..

OOOOOOF one of my favorite topics <333

now i don’t know if abby is a nap girlie but she’s gonna have to learn to be!! whether she’s coming home to you, already asleep, warm and waiting for her to cuddle up against you, under your (very specific) napping blankets. all the tension leaves her shoulders when you unconsciously tuck yourself into her :(

or maybe she’s the one taking a midday nap on the couch. she sleeps like the dead, her arms crossed and tucked into her armpits even in sleep. the hood of her sweatshirt is synched up to block out the light from her eyes. when you get home, the door wakes her up, a sleepy “baby?” calls to you from the hallway. and there she is looking ooey gooey and sooo fucking cute you could EAT! HER! UP! but you would never do that so you just lay on top of her for twenty minutes getting a mini post-work nap in before dinner. don’t forget to kiss her all over her face!!!!

abby’s favorite is when you guys are watching tv or reading in the living room, limbs tossed over each other. you’re both straining against that sleepy phase that hits at 3pm but it’s just soooo cozy!!! you have a good book in your hands, one of abby’s hands is softly massaging your calf muscles. the other hand is holding her book open (which is one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen). and you’re so warm, like you can’t help it!!! you fall asleep. it takes abby two minutes to realize you’re asleep, when your book drops to your chest. she gathers both the books and puts them on the coffee table. rearranging a little to put her feet up and sink into the couch more. she keeps massaging your legs until sleep takes her.

…, sooo idk if you can tell but sleep is my love language. thank you for listening 🫶

more abby napping content below!

sharing a bed

midday nap

morning kisses

#confirmed: abby loves a good nap <3 #hi anon <3 #abby brainrot era #wrote this so fast!! this is an important topic #sleepy abs #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #(i edited this while stoned.. pls pardon grammar errors)#mads’ headcanons #q&a

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some-bunniii · 9 days

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— ‘I hope I am the motivation behind your strokes in the next portrait…’

just realized I never posted this scene from part one of my artist!reader series I commissioned not too long ago! just a little visual for the ending of it, where Lucifer decides to fluster the newest resident to the hotel with a kiss. Was this the moment they became the apple of his eye? 🤭

lovely work done by DawnDrawnS over on X, I asked them to just go with a basic arm to keep immersion haha, you’re welcome to replace it with whatever your heart desires

stay tuned for a commissioned piece still in progress depicting a scene in the next part of my pregnant!reader fic!! (a different artist too! ready for a sneak peek? 🫣)

have a great day! 🤍

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer x reader #hellaverse #hazbin hotel x reader #digital art #fanart #commission #i’ve got medical bills but art is more important 🤭

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literaila · 8 months

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your newest fic has woken something in me, verity. can i request nice sweet petter with mean!reader, who isn't actually mean ? but she just teases peter and flirts with him and leaves him tongue tied and peter is like "its cruel of you to make me fall in love with you". thank you, you're the best !

masochism

tasm!peter x reader

a/n: this means absolutely nothing. and everything.

“peter,” you say, dryly, frowning as you set your bag on the chair next to you.

the library is usually empty this time of night. nothing but bookworms and tired librarians with their yawns to break the silence. but that’s how you like it.

that’s why you come this late. you don’t want to make small talk with a stranger asking if they can borrow one of your chairs. and you definitely do not want to get charm and pretty eyes all over you. it doesn’t come out.

“fancy seeing you here,” peter says, and he’s moving from his table to come and sit at yours. his papers are a mess and he doesn’t even blink when he almost drops a pen on the floor.

of course, he doesn’t even need an invitation because he’s peter parker.

“are you stalking me?”

“intentionally?” peter asks, and his smile is teasing and far too bright for the dark of this room. “no. it’s not my fault you always show up where i am. but i’m not complaining.”

“well, i am. i came here to study. alone.”

“and you got the pleasure of receiving my company instead. lucky you.”

you grunt but sit down anyway. even if you actually wanted him to leave, peter wouldn’t. he’s far too stubborn and shiny for that.

it was a mistake to take calculus in the first place, but it was a certifiable failure on your part that peter seemed to latch onto you. he was good at math (another red flag) and he liked to coo and you and your smudges and erase marks.

and he seemed to show up when you least expected it; like he wanted to give you a heart attack.

peter leans over the table, his hair falling over his eyes. “what’re you working on?”

“an essay.”

there’s a beat of silence, and peter laughs. “about…” he ducks his head, eyes teasing and smile incandescent. and irritating.

“the probability of committing homicide in libraries at eleven pm,” you tap a pen against his forehead, pushing him back.

“always at your service.”

“why are you here?” you ask him. “don’t you have babies you need to swaddle? old women you need to fond over you?”

“pfft,” peter says, leaning back, looking far too comfortable. “i already did that today. plus it’s a wednesday night, and the visiting hours at the nursing home end at eight.”

you nod understandingly. “well, unless you want to become apart of my research study, shoo.” you wave him away.

he only laughs. “but i haven’t seen you in almost a week. you’re not taking calculus b.”

peter is wearing a mock pout. his eyes are glowing in the three foot distance between you. and the smirk on his face is only a harsh reminder of how much you hate him. his hair is curled at the edges and it’s brushed across the top of his forehead. his teeth are straight and white.

and you can see when he swallows.

“oh you mean bodily torture part two? yeah, no, i figured i’d go with the classic bondage exposé class this semester.”

peter clears his throat, chuckling, and you watch as his cheeks tinge with pink.

“you’ve taken that class, haven’t you, peter?”

“haven’t had the opportunity, no.”

“well, if you never need a quick lesson…” you whisper, voice sultry and on the edge of manic laughter. watching peter squirm in his seat almost makes up for the lack of studying going on right now.

“good to know.”

you purse your lips at him, making an effort not to laugh.

while this conversation has headed into unfound territory, you’ve managed to pull out your notes and turn on your computer, making peter a little more than an object in the distance.

but not peter spins your computer around, illuminating his face, and frowning as he stares at the screen.

“this is a blank document,” he says.

“what wonderful observation skills you have.”

“your name isn’t even at the top.”

you steal the computer back, scowling. “i’m working on it.”

“oh, are you?”

“you’re distracting me,” you hiss at him, eyes glaring and heart burning as he smiles back.

peter is too smiley. he’s too effortlessly calm. too much for you, and too much for this entire library.

“oh, i’m distracting you?” he repeats, shaking his head. “that’s priceless.”

“i’m not sure what you’re implying.”

“i’m saying,” peter whispers, “that you’re the one talking to me about bondage while i’m trying to make pleasant conversation—“

“oh, i’m so sorry,” you interrupt, hand going to your chest in mock sympathy. “it just seemed like something you’d be in to.”

peter snorts. “really?”

“if the rope fits,” you say back, looking away from him and counting to ten.

you need lessons in holding your tongue. lessons in how to respond when someone smiles at you like there’s nothing else they’d rather be smiling at.

“that’s not funny,” peter says, but his lips are curled.

“then why are you laughing?”

“i like riling you up,” he says, “it’s very amusing.”

“you just called yourself a tease. you’re not even trying to hide it now,” you point out.

your computer dims because you haven’t touched it in the last three minutes.

“that would make you the masochist, wouldn’t it? since you’re the one enduring my teasing?”

“is this your idea of foreplay, peter?”

“is it working?”

you hadn’t even realized that you were leaning in with him. just a couple more inches and you’d be nose to nose.

you smile at him, undeterred by his proximity—at least, mostly—pretty and sweet. “why don’t you come over here and find out.”

peter tuts. “don’t say things you don’t mean, bub.”

“who says i don’t mean it?”

you’re mostly teasing him. mostly trying to get him to move as far away from you ask possible before you wrap your hands around his neck and either strangle him or kiss him until he wants to strangle you.

but finally, peter leans back, sighing. “you’re driving me insane, you know that?”

you shrug. “you’re the one stalking me.”

you look away from him, pulling your computer closer to you, and tapping on the keys to wake it up.

“i wouldn’t have to stalk you if you would just accept my offer to go to dinner.”

“i’m not really a dinner person,” you say, licking your lips while you purposefully avoid his gaze.

“coffee, then. or a trip to the schools gift shop. i’ll buy you a sweater.”

“mmm… i’m not really a peter person.”

“now that’s just mean,” he says, but you can hear him smiling. you can feel him watching you, his eyes burning circles into your skin.

it’s a pleasant warmth, though.

“i know,” you drawl, looking up at him. “and you still won’t leave me alone.”

peter sighs, shrugging, and he’s smiling while he looks at you. “maybe i’m the masochist.”

you try not to laugh and fail.

part two

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onismdaydream · 2 months

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thinking about re4r leon kennedy in the casual outfit......

he has you between his legs, your back to his chest as he pulls you even closer, his arm keeping you exactly where he wants you. a hand cupping your dripping pussy with his fingers slowly dragging up and down but never quite breaching.

needless to say, you're an absolute mess. tears running down your cheeks and fingers clawing at his forearms, desperate for him to do anything as you whine and squirm in his grasp. can't even string along a coherent sentence, brain reduced to gooey mush.

but it's okay, because leon's two middle fingers — much longer and thicker than your own, rougher, too — thrust into your cunt and you practically scream at the suddenness. you were being edged and teased for so long, it feels so overwhelmingly good to finally be touched the way you've been craving.

and leon's there, cooing in your ear and gently shushing you as your walls spasm and clench around him. making you promise that you'll do the same thing to his cock later.

#the outfit doesnt matter really but its what spawned this idea so its important to me #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil #perce.doc #.resi

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mrfroggems · 3 months

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Add on to the Alastor Aroace rant

I know Vizi said that you can have "respectful fun" with Alastor ships but there really is no way to "respectfully" ship a aroace character (unless it's queer platonic ig?) I know it's silly to expect a fandom not to ship especially with a character like Alastor but I thought more people would at least attempt to respect his sexuality.

Like I said before if it was any other character's sexuality being disrespected and disregarded people would throw a fit (rightfully so) I'm just sick one of the only aroace characters in the media is being erased by the fandom like this.

ADD ON: in my other post I talked about how people use the excuse when shipping Alastor that aroace is a spectrum while yes it is and that should be respected there are people on the spectrum that don't want any relationships or sexual acts and Alastor is our rep and it should be respected

#hazbin alastor #aroace #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #aromantic #asexual #representation is important #alastor x lucifer #alastor ships #alastor x reader

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mysterystarz · 13 days

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okay but to all the iwaizumi lovers who don’t hit the gym he’d still love you

i think he’d be the one to get you into small active stuff with him! hiking trails, walks, anything to spend time with you. he cares less about the activity and more about getting to be with you.

if you’re down to start jogging in the morning with him, he’s more than happy to help you start out with a beginners pace. if you need him to spot you at the gym, he’s there.

of course, if neither of those things are your vibe, he’d just ask you to assist him with his push ups so you can lay under him and give him a kiss each time he comes down <3

#nova talks about stuff #important psa because some people make him all about the gym #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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floriianthefool · 4 months

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on longing, romance, and every in-between.

References:

1: painting by Filippo Lippi

2: John Koenig 'The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows'

3: painting by Anthony van Dyck, 'Portrait of Mary and William of Orange'

4: uncertain, will be added once found

5: painting by Luis Caballero

6: 'Elegy for My Sadness' by Chen Chen

7: a fragment of ourselves returning v, 2018 by Beatrice Wanjiku

8: Richard Siken

9: uncertain, will be added once found

10: Tumblr post by @mothicalspoken

11: uncertain, will be added once found

12: Joan Tierney

#Attempted another web weaving #web weaving #web weave #on love #on longing #on yearning #floriian: like the soft beating of a heart in a still chest (fit into me like a missing rib)#An attempt at exploring the dynamic between Bruce and the Reader-insert #Everything is interchangeable #The quotes are both of them towards the other #The art as well #Attempted to show the change from what we have at first #Shying away #Both Bruce and Reader from each other #And then slowly coming towards each other #Together #It's important that none of this is ever said aloud #They don't even consciously think this #It's all in the subconscious #What neither of them say but will feel #The refusal to voice it #To say it #To have it become real and give it a name and give it life #It's all about control over themselves and the world around them #Just perfect for eachother 🥰#Also important to note that to a certain extent they're both very much/somewhat aware of how the other feels but once again neither of them #Say anything despite slowly acting differently towards each other #Just a short web weave exploring their dynamic

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fudgelling-away · 3 months

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Let's get straight to the point. Some of my posts have been reblogged with demeaning tags. And yes, I can tell if it's playful bickering or plain nastiness just fine.

I like playful. I do not like angry and condescending.

Now, I wouldn't care if those were sent to me as a private message, but tags are read. by. other. people.

Do not dare to use my art to shame other people.

And if you think I am or anybody is oversensitive (I hate that term) - people look into entertainment for a reason. Life is hard. Everybody suffers one way or another. Many people are hanging by a thread. You never know what will make somebody snap. Life is not safe, so we go and try to find a little safe spot for ourselves with some nice people. When you get attacked there, it hurts.

I remember how it feels to be vulnerable and have the thing you enjoy soiled. I remember the exact moment I left one of my previous fandoms as a child and how ashamed it made me feel. It was like 10 years ago, but I remember what was said and who said it. Nobody was speaking up. There were friends, yes, but silent when something was happening, because they were afraid to be shamed as well.

Years later I have my voice now and I'm going to speak, be it through text or art. And if my work makes at least one single person smile and feel validated, then all the hours I have spent on it have been worth it. It's always worth it.

That's why I do not tolerate pointless cruel mean comments, no matter how small or mild. Get your negativity elsewhere and fix your issues so you don't keep spreading it.

And that is the only rant I am going to post on this blog.

Only more fluff from now on ♡

#my art #sans x reader #sansnomaly #a lot of anomalies #motivational sans #because sans motivates not to be naughty #I sincerely hope nobody will approach me with “but it's just a game / just internet / what about real life”#another fandom literally kept me alive years ago #this is important #if you don't have the empathy to understand then I don't know how to help you

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ventique18 · 5 months

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🐉 surprises you one day by attempting to converse with you fully in your mother tongue. No, not the common language that you seemed to have just automatically learned when you were whisked to Twisted Wonderland, but the language from your original world. Some of his pronunciations are hilariously awkward and he uses slangs here and there that doesn't fit with his usually formal appearance, but he's trying. God, he's trying.

And you don't know why but you feel like crying. This guy, socially inept as he is, is trying to make you feel like you're at home in a place so unlike home.

When you ask how in the world he knew about your language, he confesses that he's been keeping note of words and phrases you absentmindedly use in conversations, along with what he assumes are their meaning. He apologizes for taking too long to be confident enough to speak to you like this, but he was afraid that he'd sound like he's disrespecting your home if he didn't practice enough by himself.

"I know I sound like a fool. Your language is rather difficult on my tongue."

"It's fine... It's... It's more than fine. You didn't have to... You didn't... You didn't have to..." You can't find the words to say to him. You can't properly express your emotions.

"I do not wish to settle for fine... I want to know everything about you. Everything. So,"

"Maaari mo ba akong turuan?" [Won't you teach me?]

#It's my headcanon that Malleus finds it important to learn about your culture #even if it doesn't exist in his world #he will do his best to give you a piece of your home #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #malleus x reader

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swiftries · 9 months

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NEW INTERESTS

summary: as business woman barbie, you had to be quite serious and uptight about your field of work. so when you couldn't make it sleepover night, which wasn't unexpected of course ꒰but nevertheless꒱ , stereotypical barbie comes to check up on you.

warning/s: top! barbie, bottom! reader, no smut, but it's implied, fluff/comfort, tired reader, talk of depression, swearing, not proofread, pretend they have genitals btw.

word count: forgot to check lmao

authors note: hi hi hii ! first post omg? i just watched the new barbie movie and..im fucking obsessed, i swear i missed half the movies dialogue tho cause i was admiring margot's gorgeous face. anyway i thought what if we had a super stressed, borderline depressed barbie who just needed a break from her thoughts ? enjoy pookies ! ୨♡୧

+ btw men dni.

navigation ! | ୨♡୧

the wheels of your pastel pink car came to a stop in your driveway as you sluggishly dragged yourself out of the drivers seat. another long day, another girls night you couldn't deal with. bright lights illuminated the moving bodies on the vast dance floor, pointed stilettos tapping and turning swiftly as stiff hands clapped and clicked to the music.

clutching your purse, you moved across the dance floor, avoiding flapping arms and desperate kens in need of a dance partner. as you got to the last section of your mission, you felt a pair of eyes on you, a pair of eyes that were too familiar for you to shake off. looking over to your far left you found a set ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. the one and only stereotypical barbie. the perfect one, the main bitch of barbieland acknowledging your presence.

conversations between the two of you were very scarce. with you having a very busy work life and her having none at all, you never crossed paths that much. but living right across from her was a given, so conversations at times were necessary.

brushing off the nervous feeling that had crept up on you, you silently scolded yourself for the rosy blush that had quickly painted your cheeks. once again, clutching your purse tighter, you resumed your journey to your apartment in the lively dreamhouse.

the scratched door creaked open as you released your grip on the plastic doorknob. in any other room you can pretty much expect bright pinks and yellows and lovely colors..but not yours. in fact it wasn't the case at all.

black scribble lines all over formerly hot pink walls, torn up grey bed sheets, deflated pillows, a bedside rug that was once a lovely shade of baby blue now a murky lake green, and scratches, whoever was messing with this room had a no sense for care, as this room, this room was desecrated with scratches and marks.

sighing, you flopped unto the creaky mattress, the back of your knees hitting the plastic bed structure. reaching over to your achy feet, you pulled off the black heels that had been causing you anguish the whole day.

dropping your heels, you unzipped your pale pink silk dress, one of the very rare bright pieces of clothing you had left. flinging it over to the other side of the room, you tapped over to your closet, the once shiny, luxurious white structure, scribbled on and vandalised; stripped of its pride. you looked through the distressed drawer that had been left open from the mornings' rush. music flooded into the silence of your room as picked out navy blue pyjama bottoms and a tight fitted white tank top.

as if by magic (no pun intended) , your desired clothing adorned your slim body as you strolled over to your bed, plopping yourself on it and sinking into the mattress.

thoughts clouded your mind like a raging storm, keeping you a prisoner of your own mind. weird barbie said this would happen a lot more so it shouldn't have been unexpected. but it still hit you like a brick every time the thought of stereotypical barbie flooded your head. her plump lips, the crystal blue eyes that locked you in a trance at the slightest glance and her hair, oh god her hair. you just wanted to run your fingers through the golden curls. you wanted to tangle your fingers in it, you wanted to ruin it, you hated how perfect it was.

you hated her. you hated how ken adored her, how everyone was so goddamn drawn to her, it was like the town revolved around her jobless ass. you wanted her. you needed her. you needed her to need you. but you had your ken and she had hers, and that was that.

the last person who uttered a word about a barbie and a barbie or a ken and a ken was weird barbie and look how she turned out. it's not like you weren't weird yourself, with your heels dropping, thoughts about death, uncanny interests in barbie , your burnt waffles and messed up room and messed up clothes, you were borderline line outcast. you just hadn't been sent to the weird house yet.

'it's only a matter of time though'. you thought shutting your eyes. the late nights and early mornings catching up to you.

it only seemed like a few minutes before you felt the opposite side of your bed sink and a warm hand on your icy shoulder. shrieking, you leaped into an upright position, very nearly hitting your head on your heart shaped headboard.

"jesus! what the hell.." you came to an abrupt stop as you looked over to your side meeting a very dear set of eyes. "look, i'm sorry for barging in so randomly, i know you were sleeping and you're a very busy woman and-" the words mushed together in your head as you focused on her pouty lips. you would let her talk for hours on end if it meant seeing those lips move.

"it's okay." you stated, the corners of your lips turning up. "really? i mean i could leave honestly! it's no biggie..i mean if you want me stay i could?" the icy blonde rambled meeting your gaze softly. "i promise your fine." you assured her shuffling a bit, suddenly feeling very naked.

"so why are you here?" you questioned, sinking back into the comfort of your duvet. dropping your gaze, she fiddled with her velvet night gown, undoing the strings and redoing them. "..well i don't know, you looked more down than usual and you at least make it to the nail painting sessions in my room, but today you missed the whole night altogether." barbie confessed, searching your y/e/c eyes for reasons.

"i know, but-" "you promised." she stated, cutting your flimsy excuse short. "i'm sorry. i've just- i've had some things on my mind as of recent." you explained, your eyes looking at barbies' room across from yours.

“ what type of thoughts?” you raised your eyebrow at her answering her question silently. “right. too far… sorry.” she blushed, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. an uncomfortable silence filled the room as barbie crossed her legs, moving dangerously close to you.

clearing your throat, you glanced at her figure, letting the image cloud your senses. the curve of her hips to the sharp cut of her jawline, she really was the perfect barbie.

“i have thoughts about death too.” barbie whispered. you didn’t reply so she continued “all the time actually. they’re more frequent than they used to be. i thought maybe someone felt the same way as me so i shared it during the dance party downstairs, but, they just looked at me like i was.. weird.”

your heart rate tripled as you gazed up at her. she looked so.. vulnerable. all this time you had thought you were alone in this paradise. you thought of yourself as the elephant in the room. but there was a chance that the one person you thought was perfect, was just as fucked up as you.

“i’m so sorry, i’m gonna leave now-” “stay.” you muttered connecting your eyes with hers. “what?” the blonde asked, a bewildered look on her face. “i think about death too. maybe we have more in common than we thought.” you explained, running your fingers through your y/h/c haphazardly layered hair.

grinning immediately barbie sat back down, babbling instantly. and you did what anyone would do if they were in that same situation, you stared at her with hearts in your eyes, smiling broadly.

only mattel knew how you ended up sprawled across your bed with barbie straddling your lap, braiding chunks of your hair. who knew depressive thoughts could bond two dolls like this?

“your eyes are so pretty.” you murmured gazing up into her ocean blues. blushing she retorted : “oh shut up.” , but you could tell from her scarlet cheeks and darting eyes that she appreciated the compliment.

“can i kiss you?” you blurted, not being able to hold yourself back. barbie stared at you, her eyes glistening. preparing yourself for rejection you opened your mouth only to have it shut by pillowy lips.

stars behind your eyelids, in fact a whole constellation. gliding your fingers up the small of her back, you reciprocated the kiss as she cupped your face softly. biting your bottom lip, she explored your mouth slowly. sucking on your tongue, she extracted a well deserved moan out of you.

“fuck y/n” she groaned, grinding on you. moaning desperately, you fervently moved your hands around her body as she pulled away. breathing heavily you both stared at each other lovingly. “the others will hear..” she commented, returning to fiddling with your hair. agreeing, you smirked as she looked at your lips.

“i better go then. i don’t want you tired tomorrow, busy work life and all.” the blonde remarked as she slowly stood up. “mhm” you retorted, as you let your eyes wander all over her body.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well okay?” she stated, looking over at you as she got to the door. “i will.” you grinned, snuggling into your comforter. and at that she giggled as she closed your door, the echo of her voice promising you of better days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

#important stuff !#🎀#new fic !#margot robbie #margot robbie smut #fluff #margot robbie barbie #ken barbie #mattel #barbie x reader #swiftries #barbenheimer

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