Euphoria had 3 things. Labrinth and his music which is gone, the aesthetic which was stolen and is also now gone, and Zendaya who wishes she was gone from this show. Now it’s just Sam Levinson and his fucking fetishes featuring MAGA Barbie. The Idol was a warning. Barbie leaving was a warning. Holy fuck is this bad
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Four journalists were arrested for reporting during a protest at a church where an ICE agent is a pastor. They were not affiliated with the group protesting. They were there as journalists.
Historically, absolutely nothing good ever happens after they start arresting journalists for showing up and documenting events.
Don Lemon, Trahern Jeen Crews, Georgia Fort, and Jamael Lydell Lundy must all be set free.
pope crying and apologizing over and over while he fucks you bc it just makes him feel so guilty. you're so perfect in his eyes, too beautiful and good for someone like him. so, when he's buried deep inside he can get overwhelmed by it.
"fuck, m'sorry. i just- i can't stop. you feel so good," he chokes out through tears. he has you under him, his weight heavy on you while he hides his face in your hair and grinds his cock into you in small, desperate movements.
"it's okay, andrew," you whisper back, your legs wrapping tighter around him pull him deeper, "it feels so good for me too," the high-pitched breathiness in your tone is enough to make pope dizzy. he wants to cum so bad but he can't bring himself to pull out.
"i can't... i can't," he chokes out, hot tears stinging his eyes as he squeezes them shut. he feels hot all over.
"you can," you encourage, your mouth finding his and licking the tears that had spilled into the corners of his mouth. he shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut so he can't look at you.
"you can. please cum inside me. you make me feel so good," you whisper, whimpering and panting beneath him, "be a good boy, andy."
"ah, fuck!" he chokes out as his hips jerk suddenly and his orgasm washes over him. "i'm sorry, please i didn't mean to!" he sobs, the words slurring together, sick with shame and arousal as he fucks you through his orgasm
afterwards, he has to sleep on top of you all night, snuggling you close, occasionally whispering out more apologies as you praise him for how perfect he is for you <3
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Peter Parker isn’t sure when he became obsessed with you.
Kinda a dark/stalkerish Spiderman fic. Just a little drabble :p
793 words , no use of names , stalker vibes / crazy Peter if you squint
Peter wasn’t sure when the switch happened. Maybe he felt like this long before the spell.
Peter Parker laid in his bed, the mattress springs digging into his back, as he stared at the ceiling. His fingers wrung together, digging his nails into his palms as he tried not to get up again.
These past four years have been lonely. Nauseating and exhausting, too. He had lost everybody in his life. His best friend. His girlfriend. The only family he ever had.
Since then, his life has been the same.
Patrol. Sleep. Watch you.
Though, I guess that was apart of his patrol.
There was something about you he couldn’t shake. Every second of his day he thought about you.
Every second he was able to he watched you.
Through the window. Passing by you on the street, knowing you didn’t recognize him.
It made him sick. But seeing you made him feel better.
He considered the fact that he hasn’t had a true relationship with anybody in the past four years to be the reason he watched you so hard.
He watched you laugh with Ned. He watched you clean your apartment every Sunday night and light a candle (always the same one. Pumpkin Pie, a Yankee candle, the same scent as the one he got you as a gift all those years ago).
He watched you brush the knots from your hair, apply your lotion every night.
Peter Parker saw everything you did.
Every corner you took on your way to work was memorized. Every carton of milk you considered on Tuesdays when you went grocery shopping.
Every time that guy who works at the laundromat watched you leave, unaware of his eyes on you.
Peter convinced himself he was only watching you out of concern. He loved you. He said he would talk to you soon. Make good on his promise and explain everything - just like he said.
(“You’re gonna forget who I am.” Peter said, his voice soft.
You stared at him, swallowing.
“What? Forget who you are?” Your voice was shaky. Confused. The way your eyebrows furrowed was enough to make Peter hesitate.
“It’s okay. I’m gonna find you, and I’m gonna explain everything.” His hands grabbed yours, pulling you a step closer.
“I’ll make you remeember me.”)
But your life passed.
He watched you and Ned go to MIT. Make friends. He didn’t let himself wallow on the fact that he should be there.
Maybe Peter didn’t know when the obsession began.
Could have been after school one day in high school. You had left early that day, your head banging with a headache.
Flash said something. So stupid, dumb enough Peter couldn’t remember exactly what he said.
But he remembered finding Flash in the dark one night. He remembers pushing him. Punching him in his face.
Flash didn’t talk about you after that.
Maybe Peter became obsessed with you after your first time hanging out alone. You two sat together in your bedroom, music bumping softly from your speaker as the two of you did homework on your floor.
You were wearing a gray hoodie and black sweatpants with fuzzy socks and your favorite animal on them.
You were beautiful, and Peter remembers nervously telling you just as much.
(‘Let em Know by Bryson Tiller played on your speaker. You were hunched over, mechanical pencil scribbling in your notebook as you wrote down the math equation.
Peter watched you with you realizing. He had long forgotten the equation he was writing down, instead his eyes focused on your lips.
They were glossy from your bubblegum chapstick. They looked soft, he thought to himself. His eyes trailed to your eyes then to your hair, back down to your lips once more.
One chance.
He swallowed, returning to his equation with a hurry as he snapped out of his mind.
You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you.
After a while you set down the notebook, sighing as you popped your back. Peter was already looking at you again by the time you glanced over.
“What?” You asked, head falling to the side as you looked at him with big eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” Peter slipped out, his cheeks flushing.
“Oh! You’re - I can’t cover that one.” He admitted, embarrassed flooding his body in a deep way he’s never experienced before.
You laughed. Warm and familiar.
“You’re ridiculous.”)
No, he doesn’t know when he started to follow you around.
Watch you.
But Peter wanted you to be safe beyond anything.
And even if you didn’t know him now, at one time you loved him.
And Peter Parker loves you more.
So he was just protecting you, Peter thought to himself as he slid your apartment window open silently.
