Untitled

[vicioussummitninja]

Twelve posts in, and I haven’t mentioned her name once. I promised myself I wouldn’t. That I’d keep this anonymous.

But when I saw the way she played piano last night— lingerie, half-tied robe, a slow note stretched to breaking— I thought:

“This is exactly the kind of woman Anita Cruz-Desai writes about.”

And maybe I’ve been living inside her book this whole time.

[haveyouseenthisqueerfilm]

Have you seen Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same (2011)?

Yes

No

I've never heard of this film

Voting ended onMay 3, 2025

[vicioussummitninja]

Honestly? This feels like something she would put on with the volume low while licking chocolate off her collarbone and pretending not to watch me watching her.

And I’d still fall in love.

[vicioussummitninja]

The Neighbor Part II

I tried to get her name. From the front desk. Her mailbox. A floating piece of mail addressed to “Current Resident.” I even did a reverse image search on her window.

Nothing. Ghost in silk.

Should I just make lasagna and knock?

What if she’s vegan? What if she’s lactose-intolerant?

But babe... She watched me eat a strawberry with whipped cream wedged between my cleavage. I used my chest as the delivery system. That’s got to mean something.

And I swear I saw her lick melted chocolate off her own chest the other night.

I just can’t tell if it was dark chocolate... or if I’m losing my mind.

Possibly both. Wow this suite was the best divorce present ever!

[vicioussummitninja]

The Neighbor

I moved in to spite him.

One month. That was the plan.

Enjoy the view. Sell the suite. Flip the pain into profit.

But then she showed up.

Penthouse across the way. Windows wide open. A different outfit every night, somehow less each time.

7PM sharp: She plays the piano in lingerie. Like it’s a ritual. Like she knows I’ll be watching.

At first, I thought she was bored. Now?

I think she’s trying to ruin me.

And babe—

It might be working.

[vicioussummitninja]

🕯 POST #1 — THE SUITE OBSESSION / STRAWBERRY TRIGGER

She was watching me.

I was eating a strawberry. That was it. Nothing else. But she didn’t blink.

So I took the whole tub out. Set it beside me like I was doing it for me. But really? I wanted her to stare.

She did.

So I took the whipped cream out too. Popped the lid. Swirled it on top like I wasn’t shaking.

She still didn’t move.

I dipped the strawberry. Brought it to my lips. Ate it slow.

Slower than I meant to.

She stayed frozen. Except her fingers twitched once — just once — when the cream hit my bottom lip.

And then I knew. She wasn’t watching. She was willing me.

To take one more. To lick it this time. To drop the act and call her bluff.

I didn’t.

But I was so tempted.

Still am.

[sageisablaze]

It Was Always Davika.

See, I think Isadora always wanted her.

Always.

That’s why she ended up with Sabrina.

Don’t get me wrong—Sabrina’s a dream. Tall, leather-clad, voice like velvet and razors.

But let’s be honest—Isadora didn’t fall for her.

She just needed someone who could make her feel something again.

So now she plays games in a penthouse dungeon, lets Sabrina whisper obedience into her ear, and pretends it’s about power.

But it’s not.

It’s about Davika.

Always has been.

Sabrina can make her kneel.

But only Davika ever made her shatter.

[vicioussummitninja]

“This one didn’t feel like fiction. It felt like a memory someone whispered by mistake.”