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#so sexyyyyy!!!!
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Vincent Price as Dr. Richard Cross
Shock (1946) dir. Alfred L. Werker
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inkykeiji · 2 months
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Vox and electrical play I'm losing my mind
I KNOW he'd zap you when you get too close to cumming, a silent signal for you to stop nnnnnnnhhhjjhhhhh
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OKAY YES YES YES holy shit anon this is an absolutely delicious idea and my brain totally short-circuited (lol) when i read it ooooh my gosh
warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, electrical play, edging, implied mindbreak, overstimulation words: 428
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he likes to use the electricity conducted in his claws—finds it more personal, more intimate that way—and will absolutely use it to edge you. he knows your body so well, has analyzed all of your mannerisms and micro-expressions right down to every twitch and quiver and whine, so he knows how to pull you apart and painstakingly put you back together. he knows that the trembling of your thighs means you’re teetering on the edge of ecstasy; that the scratching of your nails at his wrists, his shoulders, his chest means more, more, more, fuck me harder, faster, rougher; that the rolling of your eyes, whites framed by fluttering lashes, means your brain’s turned to a pleasant buzz of incoherent static.
as such, he knows exactly when to strike.
it’s so sweet to see the way you jolt with each zap—he swears it’s one of his favourite sights, the way your flesh ripples so prettily as the current surges through your veins. he swears he can almost see it, that bolt of teal electricity racing your blood, leaving sizzling sweat beading on your skin. 
it’s so precious, how a little too much will leave you stunned and stupid, body gone rigid for a few seconds before it mollifies beneath his touch again, shimmering cords of drool oozing from your mouth and crystalline tears embellishing your eyes, glittering as they catch on the jagged strikes of cyan lightning cracking around his form.
it’s so cute when you ask him for more even after his relentless assault, your body malleable and aching, fresh burns in the shape of his claws singed into your hips and thighs, your pleads heavy with pleasure and tangled in threads of spit. it makes him feel fucking incredible, invincible, how desperate you are for him, how devoted you are to him, even as he sears your mind to nothing but pretty blue cinders. it’s beautiful; you’re beautiful with him coursing through your body—his electricity crackling in your muscles, his love fizzing in your heart, his cock stuffing your cunt to the brim. 
but what he doesn’t expect is when his warning tases evoke the opposite of the intended effect—instead of halting your orgasm, it accelerates it, the sparks zipping through your veins coalescing in the pit of your tummy and forming one dense, pulsing ball of heat, furling tighter and tighter in on itself until it explodes, your cunt convulsing around him in the cutest spasms, gushing all over his cock. 
and, oh, he just learned some very valuable information. 
author’s note: alsooo i absolutely think vox has the ability to ‘store’ energy in his claws to save it up for more intense shocks, and i think he’s obsessive and methodical with the whole process, even as he’s fucking the life out of you, analyzing which type of shock he wants to use next; something big and stinging? something that’s just going to send tiny zaps of electricity shooting through your veins? which is best for the present situation? it’s all part of the fun to him ♡
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yonaaaahowell · 4 months
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I LOVE THE CONCEPT OF THE THIRD BIRTHDAY CG!!! BOTH KEITH'S 💚😭🦌
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braineater444 · 3 months
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To Be a Princess
Chapter 2
Start/Next
fem!reader x kokonoi/bonten
TW: Disordered eating, sex trafficking, drugging, violence, cannibalism, gore, heavy drinking, terrible vibes, vomit, misogyny
Your silk pajamas are soaked in sticky, wet, congealed red. You’re in Hajime’s office again, but this time the man’s lifeless body is on the floor in front of you.
A strange feeling makes its way up your spine. You have everything to do with this. Now you have to repent.
“I’m sorry.” You say over the corpse. Your eyes fill with tears, but there’s no use crying. This is the bed that you made. You must lie in it.
Bloodied shaking hands lift his head to your mouth. He’s so much lighter than a dead man should be.
“You’re pitiful. Pathetic.” Your mother’s voice rings out from behind you, but when you turn, she’s nowhere to be found. “Do it. Clean your mess.”
Who are you to disrespect your mother? When have you ever had the nerve?
The flesh of the human cheek is easier to bite through than you’d imagined. Soft. Supple. Wet. Cold. This is the only way to make up for your crime. You must consume all of him.
You chew and chew and chew. It won’t go down. You try to swallow again and again. Your mother’s screams of horror ring out from behind you, and suddenly you’re able to swallow. You gag and heave, but you’re okay.
You go back in. Same cheek, but this time, your tongue slips between meat, teeth, and gums. Blood washes over your tongue before you rip through another piece of his flesh. Only this time, he screams.
His eyes are wide open, and his horrified screams mix with that of your mothers. You back away on the palms of your hands and the balls of your feet.
“I’m sorry!”
He still yells. Your mother tells you that you are not.
“I said I’m sorry!”
The agonized screams continue.
You repeat it over and over. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m sorry!” You yell back. You’re breathless. This feels like running a marathon.
✮✮✮
Your body jerks awake, and you’re greeted by the sight of Hajime’s concerned face looming over you. He rests a soft hand on your cheek and your body stiffens.
“There’s no need to cry.” His thumbs glide under your tear-filled eyes. His words are muttered. “It’s just a bad dream.”
You nod. He plants a kiss on your cheek and pats your head. “Go back to sleep.”
It’s hard to do as he says. 
You turn your body away from him, trying to settle in under the covers, but it’s too hot. You throw the blanket off of yourself and curl into the fetal position. You can feel the metal on your ankle getting colder the longer it’s exposed to the frigid bedroom air. Now it’s too cold. You sit up.
Hajime taps away at the keyboard of his laptop. He stops for a moment, then starts again. You yank at the chain of handcuffs on your ankle. It clangs against the bed frame it’s binding you to. The typing stops.
“Don’t start this again.”
“I have to pee.”
Your words are met with a sigh and Hajime closes the laptop. You watch silently as he picks up the key off of his dresser, opens the curtains, and walks to your side of the bed. His black silk pajamas glimmer in the sunlight as he kneels in front of you.
You present your chained leg to him. His hands glide across the smooth skin of your leg. His fingertips are frigid, but you have nothing to say about it. Why would you? He doesn’t care about your discomfort despite how much he feigns concern. He kidnapped you. His lips graze the skin of your shin before he plants a gentle kiss.
“I love you.” He smiles up at you.
A bitterness fills you as you say it back. The last time you refused to speak, he didn’t let you go. That was yesterday and since having to sit in soiled bed sheets for a whole day while he was out, you’ve learned better.
✮✮✮
Hajime doesn’t give you alone time anymore. Your morning piss is an affair for both of you. So is the bath.
It used to be fun when you bathed together, but in the three days since he’s taken away your autonomy, it’s morphed into a new hurdle to jump every morning and night. Today’s appeal is more of the same.
He sticks his hand under the faucet to check the water’s temperature and turns the knob to make it hotter. 
“What was that nightmare about?” He asks as you watch him through the bathroom mirror.
There’s a beat of silence before you remember what he’s talking about.
“You.”
He chuckles. “What do you mean?”
“This bathing together thing. I had a nightmare about it.”
The water stops. You turn to see a tub full of bubbles.
“Why lie? Just say you don’t want to tell me.”
“I just want to bathe it alone.”
“No.” He comes toward you and unbuttons your pajama top. “Maybe one day, but not today.”
“Hajime..” He slides your shirt off of your shoulders and you watch as it hits the ground. “Why?”
“Why what?” He works down your pants and underwear.
“Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“Why would I? I told you; I love you.”
Hand in hand, he guides you to the tub. Your feet cut through a thick layer of bubbles before hitting nice warm water.
This isn't love, and since you've been taken hostage, you're not sure it ever was, but this is the first time he's behaved in this manner. 
He cleans you thoroughly but gently. Expert fingers scrub at your scalp, then wash your face, and everywhere else. When his hands touch your private areas, you are quick to startle only for him to smile and say nothing. Really, he hasn’t done anything more invasive than washing you in the days you’ve been here. You’d like to say you know he wouldn’t do something worse, but you can never know for sure anymore.
“Face mask?” He asks at the end, wrapping you in a towel. You shake your head. “Are you hungry?” You shake your head. “I think you should eat something today.”
“I don’t want to.” You shiver in your towel.
“You should. We have somewhere to be tonight.”
“We?”
“It’s a club, so I thought you should come. You can meet my friends and have a good time.”
✮✮✮
You lay silent on the bed, chained up and waiting for Hajime to get back. He’s been gone since the afternoon and now the sun is going down. Hopefully, he’s dead. Hopefully, his line of work has caught up to him and someone killed him. And if he’s dead, someone can find you trapped here and free you, or maybe they won’t. Maybe you don’t deserve it. After all, you didn’t tell anyone what he did. You’re complicit. Why should you be saved?
“I’m sorry.” This is the first thing he says when he walks through the bedroom door. “It’s eight-thirty-six. I should’ve had you ready an hour ago.”
Hajime stops in his tracks as he looks at the bedside table. All the food he left remains untouched. The strawberries he’s cut, the sandwiches he’s made, the protein bar, the plain white rice… all untouched.
“Why are you not eating?”
It’s your hunger strike. You’ll thin out until you die if he doesn’t let you go. “Because I don’t want to be here.”
A look of frustration passes over his features for a brief, easily missed second. He smiles and leans down to you. “If you don’t eat, you’re not going. This could be your last chance ever to get out of here. Do you want to miss it?”
You return his gaze with your own hardened stare. He lets you hold the silence for a moment, with an unflinching, deceptively kind smile. “One bite of everything and I will dress you and we can go.”
He’s right. This could be your last chance to escape. This time, when you do, you’ll go to the police and turn yourself in. Will he come get you from them? Probably not.
He watches with a grin as you begrudgingly take one bite of everything. When you’re done, he dresses you.
✮✮✮
You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you do feel beautiful. The black mink fur coat flows down to your ankles and creates warmth in what is an otherwise skimpy outfit. The black sequined skirt and leopard print bustier offer little comfort but an undeniable amount of glamour. Your diamond studs match your diamond choker and the messy updo Hajime tried his best to make perfect doesn’t suffocate them. 
Stepping outside like this isn’t like you. Especially because the heels he’s given you aren’t broken in. You’ve never worn these and they hurt. Surely, you’re ditching them when you make a break for it.
As you follow him into the club, the smell of sweat and mixed perfume replaces the crisp outside air on your face. As Hajime guides you through the crowd, a hand on the small of your back, dancing bodies part like the Red Sea. People smile and greet him with curious looks. Certainly, they wonder who you are. He explains nothing, just greets people back politely. How often does he come here?
Right past the private sections, there’s a door and behind that door is a well-decorated room. In that room, there are unfamiliar faces and Takeomi. Your abductor takes his time introducing them to you.
Mikey, you’ve seen his face on the news. This is Hajime’s boss. This is the guy that wakes him up at the ass crack of dawn to do paperwork. This frail, white-haired freak is who’s in charge. He hardly acknowledges you outside of a glance before bringing a beer bottle to his lips.
Haruchiyo has pink hair and pink eyelashes. More importantly, he’s got huge diamond-shaped scars on his lips and a tattoo on his arm that matches the one on Hajime’s scalp. He smiles, not in a polite way, but one that triggers your fight or flight.
Takeomi, you’ve met before. He nods to you. You wonder if he has a gun you can use right now. Do they all have guns? What are your chances of survival?
Rindou and Ran are brothers, with matching purple and lavender hair and with the same hanafuda tattoo sitting front and center on their necks. The same tattoo that Sanzu and Hajime have. Ultimately, you feel stupid as you realize that it’s their symbol for their little gang and it’s been sitting in plain sight your entire relationship. A wave of internal embarrassment rolls over you. Idiot.
Kanji is clean-cut with slicked-back, greying hair. He pays you no mind as he lights a cigarette and leans back into his corner seat. 
Finally, Kakucho has thick black hair that doesn’t quite cover the scar that wraps around his head and through his left eye. Can he see? Not that he deserves to. Not doing work like this.
After he’s done introducing you, someone, the pink-haired one, speaks up. “You’re not gay?” Lips parted and brows pinching together in confusion. There are snickers around the room, and the longer-haired brother hides his laugh by leaning on his brother’s shoulder. “Not in a rude way. I’m just asking because I thought you were bring- “
“Haruchiyo.” Takeomi pipes up sternly. It’s a bit ironic, you think.
Hajime doesn’t give a response. Instead, he says, “You know what I’m here to do, so please get out.” 
Everyone moves quickly to get out. You even hear someone huff out a “finally.” But before you can make sense of what’s going on, Hajime asserts that one of them has to watch you, and then he tells you to have fun.
A hand grabs yours and you’re being dragged to the bar before you can gain your bearings. The pink-haired one. Haruchiyo. He wants you to drink with him?
“What’s your name again?” He smiles.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right. I’m just gonna call you ‘Girl’, m’kay?”
You look around with half a mind to argue, but with the blaring music and flashing lights, who wants to? You shrug.
“Take shots with me.” His smile is so earnest.
“I can’t.” 
“Somewhere to be?” He gestures with his chin toward the exit behind you. A beat of silence falls between you as his smile threatens to pull apart his scars and then his face.
“Can I tell you something?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s leaning in close enough for you to hear his lowered voice over all the commotion. “You’re not getting out of here. There’s nowhere you can run where we won’t find you, and none of us are just going to let you go that easily.”
He pulls back to see the horror on your face. That smile brightens.
Half of you wants to ask why. This has nothing to do with them. The other half wants to see if he’s telling the truth. Still, you remain, frozen on your barstool, making a face with your expensive fur coat on.
“Drink with me. You’ll have more fun.”
You do as he says.
The shots come in one after another. Not once do you see him pay? You only watch hazily as he leans over the counter, beams at the bartender, and asks for another round for the both of you.
“You might think that we hate women…” He laughs to himself as he hands you another shot. “But I hired her.” He points at the bartender. “And in many ways, I’m like a woman, too.” But he never elaborates. Just rubs your shoulder as you throw your drink back.
✮✮✮
You don’t know how many shots you take, but it’s enough to have you barefoot on the dancefloor with him. For a while, it’s like you’re there alone. The world looks so beautiful inside the club and the sweat is starting to smell sweet. You’re just moving and embracing the faux freedom you have right now.
You back your glistening body into Haruchiyo’s front. His arms wrap around your waist and you roll your head onto his shoulder. You sway. 
“This is so much better than being stuck in that room,” you hum.
“He locks you in the bedroom?” He asks. You can feel his voice come from his chest as he chuckles. You nod with a dumb smile.
“Haruchiyo…” You are dizzy as the lights change. He hums. “I feel sick.”
He laughs. Fully laughs. And you do too.
“I’m gonna throw up.”
Before you know it, he’s gently guiding you through the crowd and you’re barely there for it. It all feels like floating until your bare feet are met with cold concrete and harsh rocks. 
You must be outside of the back of the building. You meet the brothers there, smoking. The taller one pipes up first. 
“Haru, you got anything?”
“Haru.” You repeat under your breath and giggle at yourself. He’s got a pretty name.
“Not on me. Wanna come to my car?”
You think they’re having a secret staring contest when Haru offers to go to his car. The tall man is almost smiling, and Haru is.
“Ran…” he says sweetly.
Ran.
The taller one, Ran, takes one last drag from his cigarette before dropping it and smothering it with the toe of his boot. “Rindou, please watch her. He drugged her.” He smiles without breaking eyes with Sanzu. You look between them, only to see they’ve both got shit-eating grins plastered across their face.
“You drugged me?” You look at Haruchiyo. He pays you no mind. When?
He lets you go and as you fall, Rin catches you. He lets you rest your weight against his body.
“Where are her shoes?” Rindou pipes up.
“I’ll find them later.”
Then you’re stuck with Rindou. Whoever he is.
It’s a little humiliating leaning against a man you don’t know because you can hardly stand on your own two feet. Rindou doesn’t seem to mind, though. He stands back to the wall as he smokes his cigarette.
When you try to push yourself off of him, his free hand comes to your back to push you back down. He breaks the silence with a stern voice telling you to stay. 
You’re overheating, and you’ve got to go. 
The next time, he doesn’t push you back down. He lets you stand on shaky legs and watches as you shrug your coat off and onto the ground.
“Where are you going?” He asks. His cigarette is gone. 
“Fu-ucking leaving.” You hiccup. Your stomach growls.
“To where?” There’s amusement in his voice.
“Shut up.”
Even through blurred vision, you can see him frown. He’s messing with you.
You hobble your way back through the door you came out of. The lights on the inside are so… bright. Brighter than before. Sickening. They’re doing this on purpose. 
You’re pushed around as you try to make your way through the crowd. Your stomach is rolling around inside you. 
“Move.” You say to random people. They don’t hear you. They don’t care.
It’s so fucking hot inside this place. You just want out.
When you make it outside, you pause for a moment to feel the cool air. Spit fills your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Your arm comes up to wipe it away.
You don’t know which way to walk. A phone would be nice, but it’s okay. You can make it work. You can find someone with a phone later. The streets are devoid of people right now, save for a few cars driving by.
You choose a direction and walk. Stumble.
“You’re not gonna make it far on whatever he gave you.” His voice is loud and clear. It’s almost like he caused you to fall.
Your knees scrape the concrete, enough to hurt without drawing blood. You stay there, hunched over on the ground as you hear him approaching.
Rindou crouches in front of you. He smells wonderful even after a cigarette. Warm vanilla and a field of flowers. He carries your abandoned coat with him.
“You’re so cute. Like the girls I had crushes on when I was a boy. But they weren’t real.” He lifts your chin in his hand while saying it. “You are. You’re beautiful and determined and so real. It’s really hot. Especially ‘cause what you’re doing is useless.”
“Leave me alone.” Your lips quiver.
“I can’t.” That frown from earlier…it’s just his face. “I’m not going to be the one getting blamed for leaving you passed out on the sidewalk and vulnerable to all types of things.” He strokes your cheek and kisses your sweat-covered forehead.
“Are you gonna-” Tears skitter down your cheeks. “Please don’t tell him. I don’t- I can’t-” His eyes light up and there’s almost a smile showing. “I can’t be locked in that room anymore. Please. Please. Please don’t tell him.”
“I won’t tell, I promise.”
✮✮✮
Rindou waits outside the door as you vomit in the bathroom. No one is in here with you and it’s the cleanest club bathroom you’ve ever seen. Or maybe you’re just that out of it.
The sound of what is mostly bile and alcohol hitting the toilet water is sickening. It even splashes on the seat, narrowly avoiding your face. The smell is vile.
When you’re done, your stomach growls as you make your way to the sink. You’re so hungry it hurts, but if you eat, he’ll have won. 
Your stud earrings have become entangled in loose strands of your hair. You take them out and admire how they glimmer under the dim bathroom light in your hand.
Are diamonds edible? You wonder. If you eat them, you’re getting back at him in a way, right? Dissolving his money in stomach acid.
You break the pointed back off of one. It’ll be harder to swallow with it on. Then you do the same with the other. They’re no longer accessories, just useless five-millimeter studs.
Hajime would say you look a mess without them. He says that even women as beautiful as you need accessories. Surely, all this jewelry he puts on you is just his form of branding.
You pop the diamonds into your mouth. Your first thought is to chew; mash them up and make them digestible. It hurts your teeth to try to bite through. It startles you how painful the attempt to crack them was. It startles you enough that you accidentally swallow them whole. 
You make a face to yourself in the mirror. Eyes blown, mascara smeared, lipstick smudged. Your heart is racing. It kind of felt… good? What the fuck?
✮✮✮
You rinse your mouth with vodka. A bottle Rindou took from behind the bar. Not that you want to drink anything else they give you. 
You’re back behind the club and Rindou doesn’t seem set on getting you even more drunk or high. You’re feeling invincible after swallowing those earrings.
What else could you do to get back at Hajime?
“Do you want to have sex right now?” You pass the bottle back to Rindou.
“No.” He says without thought or hesitation. “Not really. I’m not like that.”
“Like what?”
“A home wrecker.”
“Shut up.” Hajime is not your boyfriend. You guys are not together. 
“Sorry.” He takes a big swig. “I’m also not into whatever revenge plot you’re trying to hatch.” He smiles politely. He really looks like his brother. Sad eyed and well dressed.
“It’s not revenge. You said I’m cute.” You move closer to him and your hand creeps to his forearm. 
He turns his head up and sighs. “He’s made a pleasant life for you. Why can’t you just accept it?”
“Fuck off.” 
When he looks back at you, his lips part, he thinks and closes them. Then they come open again.
“I’ll tell you something, okay?” Rindou huffs. “A while ago, there was this girl… maybe a little younger than you. A hooker who worked out of one of our brothels. She looked okay.”
He pauses in thought. Your hand slides off of his forearm.
“She ran away once, with a lot of money. When Mochi brought her back, she was so full of vengeance.” He chuckles. “Koko was pissed. Kicked that girl’s teeth in. Locked her in a closet, and only fed her rice and chicken once a day. It was bad. He told Sanzu to pull her nails out. Tortured her for like two months.”
His brows furrow, and he gets quiet for a second. “Yeah, he would tell us to do terrible things to her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I haven’t been back since.” He scratches his head. “But, what I’m saying is, Koko’s a cruel guy and you’re lucky he likes you.”
It’s shameful to think you didn’t know. To think some women have suffered at the hands of the man who makes you comfortable. For the longest time, you were oblivious. You’re an idiot.
“You’re lying.” You say, because he must be. This couldn’t have happened under your nose.
“Look at the situation you’re in. Is it impossible?” His brows rise in question.
You’re doomed, aren’t you? “I’m just going to kill myself. You should kill yourself, too.” You take the bottle from him. It feels like fire going down your throat.
His gaze has changed when you finally look at him again. There's a sense of mischief you only catch on to when he kisses you. This time, on your mouth.
You’re not sure you want this, but you lean into it for the sake of rebellion. It’s so strange kissing someone who isn’t Hajime. Matter of fact, it's strange locking lips with someone you've just met. Rindou's lips are so soft and warm. His tongue glides languidly against yours. His hands travel from your cheek to your chin to tilt your head up, so he can savor you deeper. You both taste of alcohol.
When he pulls away, he waivers a little at the sound of a soft accidental moan leaving your lips. He grins. Suddenly, you want him back.
“Now you’ve rebelled, and you’re still stuck here. I don’t think you have the balls to kill yourself, though.” He reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. “But if you want to, you can.”
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celestinovietti · 8 months
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marco bezzecchi before the start of the japan gp
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rafesthroatbaby · 2 months
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daddy rafe loves to spoil me 💦
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iwaasfairy · 2 months
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Flighty is the best fic ever written. Change my mind I dare u.
I wouldn’t bc I like that fic pHFJFJFJKFJG me every day waving around uncle Satoru flyers n putting them in your hands !!! come see come see !!! uncle satoru for everybody !!!
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lapetitechatonne · 11 months
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me and my girlfriend @gilbirda are very cute, and it gives me such joy to see the little opposite pic crews we accidentally made 💕 plus a meme by @gremlin-bot because when they’re right, they’re right
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anyways i love her, that’s all 💕
link to the pic crew hehe 🤗
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laurasbailey · 1 year
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campaign one will never die and that’s so sexy
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batgeance · 6 months
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hiiiii paul *twirls hair and kicks feet*
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adamwarlock · 1 year
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Covers for Warlock: Rebirth #1-5 (2023)
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Vincent Price
Tales of Terror; The Black Cat 🐈‍⬛ (1962) // dir. Roger Corman
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inkykeiji · 7 months
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oh, to be yakuza mikey’s sex slave…he’ll never let you let him…or his house
why on earth would you ever want to leave his mammoth, monstrous mansion in the middle of nowhere? it has everything you could ever need, and then some, he’s absolutely sure of it—tennis courts and skating rinks and indoor pools and bowling alleys and state of the art appliances + electronics and a multi-acre garden complete with a greenhouse—what more could you possibly ask for, honestly? and all for the low, low price of allowing him to use you whenever he pleases, however he pleases, and wherever he pleases, no questions asked? all for the downright menial cost of belonging to him, solely and completely; of being owned by him—which is to say, of being taken care of by him, all of your needs met and all of your decisions made for you, none of that pesky thinking required? that’s not too high a price to pay, is it? that’s not a bad trade off at all, right? he certainly doesn’t think so.
nevertheless, yakuza mikey understands that you’re ‘bored’ all alone here—he does work such long, taxing hours, and there are some times where he doesn’t get to see you for a full forty-eight hours or so (those instances are always the worst, in his opinion)—so he agrees to let you out every once in a while, provided that you agree to some slight ‘modifications’ on your cell phone. it’s nothing major, nothing huge, he promises you. they’re so inconsequential, he claims you won’t even notice anything has changed at all.
his adjustments to your device are security related, safety related, or so he tells you, sternly insisting that you don’t need to know any information beyond that, for your own good, he says. that’s because they aren’t for you, they’re for him; tracking devices that alert him of your every minor movement and full access to your camera and microphone, so he can keep you monitored wholly and completely, in all ways, at all times.
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heartbreakfeelsogood · 4 months
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rhea ripley save me
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mephilver · 3 months
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WOMENNS DAY!!
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jugheads-choni · 6 days
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My Top 10 Riverdale Music Numbers
5. Sugarr Daddy
Sung by Madelaine Petsch & Vanessa Morgan
—————
“I want all the luxuries of the modern age
And every item on every page
In the Lillian Vernon catalogue
So you think only a woman
Can truly love a man?
Well, you buy me the dress
I'll be more woman
Than a man like you can stand
I'll be your Venus on a chocolate clam shell
Rising on a sea of marshmallow foam
If you got some sugar for me
Sugarr Daddy, bring it home”
4 notes · View notes