#apple privacy concerns

[wauln]

[ iPhone 8 Plus Is Crazy ]

[transgenderprototype]

If the stuff about tumblr selling private data (dms, private/password-protected blogs, etc.) to Midjouney is true, i can say with confidence that the EU is gonna be having a fucking field day with that

[shlimon]

Credit: @ jowelmobilegarden3

Guarding Your Tech: The Ultimate Guide to Screen Protectors

In the current digital era, displays dominate our daily life. Screens are a necessary part of our daily lives, whether they be in the form of wearables, computers, tablets, or smartphones. Our devices have grown more intricate and delicate as technology has advanced. In this case, screen protectors can be useful. We will go into the realm of screen protectors in this extensive guide, emphasizing the value of safeguarding your priceless devices and the numerous forms.

Click To Know More

[nommedtail]

huh...chromecast just uses the same email for both youtube and the chromecast so if you switch youtube accounts it’ll switch the whole chromecast thing even though i can be logged onto desktop youtube w/ both of my gmails...

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (14/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kind of fingering, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"Tell him the truth. Lying to my grandfather serves no purpose anyway. He's a skilled player. You have to win his trust." Said her betrothed, walking around her chamber with his hands folded behind his back as if it was simple, while she sat on her bed, looking at him in horror.

Lord Hightower had many reasons to doubt her loyalty, starting with her treacherous bloodline to the fact that, in all probability, Gwayne had convinced him that she had forced her way into his grandson's heart through his bed like a simple whore.

She lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers in nervous reflex – her lēkia approached her and knelt before her on one knee, taking her hands in his, slightly rough from holding the hilt of his sword.

"My grandfather is loyal to our family. I trust him. Do it, zaldrītsos."

Otto waited for her in the royal gardens in complete solitude, under one of the beautiful ancient arbours overlooking the sea. The day was sunny and hot, so she was dressed in one of the gowns of fine, thin fabric that she had ordered with her Prince's permission – she could have worn a garment belonging to his daughter, Queen Alicent, but she feared he would perceive it as an attempt of manipulation.

She was to be honest with him, as her betrothed demanded.

She sighed quietly, seeing his seated silhouette in the distance, silver trays full of lemon and apple cakes, caramelised dates, grapes and strawberries on a small white table in front of him. She blinked, coming closer with a rattle of stones under her feet, standing in front of him, feeling her heart stop in her throat.

Otto gave her a gentle, reassuring smile and held out his hand in front of him, pointing to the empty chair across from him, seeing how tense she was.

"My Lady. Thank you for agreeing to speak to the grumbling old man and listen to his concerns." He said lightly and she swallowed hard, sitting down, placing her hands on her thighs.

"Treat yourself. My daughter loves caramelised dates." He said and reached for one himself, taking a bite of it.

He chewed it and swallowed, nodding appreciatively, as if indeed their flavour appealed to him too.

"Do you know what my grandson's – and your betrothed's – favourite dish is?" He asked, looking at her curiously, as if he was challenging her.

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders, involuntarily grinning with amusement.

"I don't think such considerations occupy his head. He rarely delights in food, and if he does, it is more in the privacy of his own mind." She said calmly.

Otto hummed under his breath, as if her answer satisfied him, and nodded.

"Our Prince is a man of principle and loves simplicity. Deliberations on trivial things bore him and arouse his frustration, just like the romantic courting of women." He said, spreading out comfortably in his chair, placing his hands on the armrests, asking her the obvious question between his words.

How had she managed to seduce him?

She huffed under her breath and turned her gaze away, looking out at the sea stretching around them, the pleasant fresh breeze and shade cooling her sun-warmed skin.

"Like any man, he is not fond of empty words. He chooses his own deliberately and expects others to do the same. Unless he becomes enraged – then his fury erupts like a volcano." She said lightly, for some reason feeling no fear at the thought.

She had ceased to fear him long ago.

She knew that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to truly hurt her.

"The letter you found in your chamber was sent to you on my command." He said calmly.

She froze, staring blankly ahead, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad.

It was a trial, she suddenly realised.

He wanted to see if she was trustworthy.

For some reason, a wave of sadness and disappointment rippled through her heart.

She naively believed for a moment that her person could occupy her father's mind.

Otto continued, hearing her silence full of disbelief.

"I need to know what you want, child. I need you to put your desires into words so that I can understand what kind of person is sitting right in front of me to become my grandson's wife." He said slowly, as if carefully choosing every thought that left his lips – his voice was gentle and soothing, as if he was trying to reassure her that what she was going to say would remain their secret.

She lowered her gaze, feeling her heart pound like mad in terror – not because she was afraid of him, but because his question startled her.

She didn't know what to answer.

She had never thought about it.

Until now, she had only been the fulfilment of his desires, she thought with shame, playing with her fingers, feeling certain Otto would take her silence as a bad sign, proof that her intentions were not pure.

"I am what he wants me to be." She finally muttered, feeling tears of embarrassment under her eyelids burning as much as if they were living fire.

Lord Hightower looked at her in silence and twisted in his seat with a creak of wood, as if surprised by her answer.

"Do you wish to marry him?" He asked, and she nodded without thinking.

"I want to be by his side. His presence fills my soul and heart with a strange peace. When he is beside me, I am no longer afraid. Of my father, of war, or of what will happen to me. I am not afraid of death or dragon fire. Sometimes I think it would be better for me to die in battle than to live to see the moment when I realise I have lost his affection." She choked out in a trembling voice, feeling the heavy tears one by one run down her cheeks – she was wiping them off the warm skin of her face with her hands, but they flowed anyway.

Why had she said that?

Why was she letting him know her weakness?

Maybe because deep down she hoped that he would kill her one day, she thought.

That he would not let her live to see the day when her husband would love another woman.

"Our Prince holds you in a respect and esteem that he has never bestowed on any woman before. He allows himself to be vulnerable and weak in your presence. Men, dear child, experiencing physical fulfilment without a soul bond, feel an emptiness after the act. Their desire is like a cry of desperation for purely childlike attention and tenderness – then, in his chamber, seeing him in your embrace, I saw a boy who feels protected and comforted. I'm afraid that my grandson fell in love with you."

She swallowed with difficulty, choking on her own tears, looking at him in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest like mad.

I'm afraid that my grandson fell in love with you.

She shook her head, feeling that she could not accept those words.

He desired her, he enjoyed her, he was fond of her, but he did not love her.

"I dearly loved my late wife. She was my closest confidante, my beloved friend, the most beautiful of women. She was strong, and my grandson is weak. Filled with complexes, he lives to prove his worth, power and strength, not seeing that he is crushing the efforts of many years, made by me and his father. He needs guides, trusted advisors who love him and who want him to prevail. I know that it was because of you that my grandson told his brother about his plans regarding Rook Rest's. I know that you advised him against plotting behind Aegon's back and sought to rally them. You advise our Prince wisely and I wish you to be his wife. As the daughter of the Lady of Runestone, you are the blood of the Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale, which will be crucial to us when the siege of Harrenhal begins. Your task to the Kingdom will be to rally the Lords against Lady Arryn's will and to stop my grandson from acting recklessly and violently. Do you understand what I have in mind?" He asked calmly, and she nodded quickly, wiping her hot, swollen cheeks with her hands.

"Yes."

As she was fitting her wedding gown, letting the servants and seamstresses check the length of the sleeves, she thought about Otto Hightower's words and how much they surprised her.

He was a shrewd and enlightened man, of that she was convinced – he also let her know that he did not see her as an enemy or a threat, but as an opportunity for them and the Kingdom as a whole.

For some reason, something in his words and the way he said them comforted her – she felt that, at last, the burden of the war and the Crown would partly fall off the Prince's back, allowing someone more experienced to advise him on difficult and complicated matters that would have overwhelmed the wisest of men.

She shuddered as the door to her chamber opened and her betrothed stepped inside, searching for her with his eye.

"No!" She squealed, fleeing behind the light-coloured three-door screen standing nearby. "It brings misfortune. Leave."

He shouldn't see her in her wedding gown before their nuptials.

She heard his sigh of impatience and his lazy footsteps on the other side – when he stopped the servants bowed to him and left the chamber, leaving them alone.

"What did he say?" He asked calmly.

She sighed quietly, stepping closer to the wall of thin material behind which she could see the shadow of his tall figure.

"That he wishes me to win the support of the Lords of the Vale for you. That I would help him control your impulsive nature." She said, and he snorted, frustrated, turning his head to the side.

"Is that how he sees me? As an uncontrollable animal to be tamed?" He asked with a regret that made her swallow hard, her fingers touching the fabric as if she wanted to touch his chest.

His heart.

"No. But he and I know what your anger means and how dangerous it can be. That it is only when its first wave passes that your coolness and common sense returns to you. There is a fire running through your veins – that is your nature. We do not want you to burn in the heat of your own fury, regretting later the deeds done in a sudden burst of rage." She muttered and heard him draw in a breath, as if her words pained him.

"He is disappointed in me, then." He said coldly and she closed her eyes, feeling helpless against his low self-esteem.

"No, brother. He wants your victory, exactly as I do. If you craved sweet lies, you would allow Larys Strong to pour poison into your ears, surrounding yourself with lords who would praise you and your greatness. You, in your wisdom, sent for your grandfather, who is sincere, who cares for you and your family."

"Ours." He corrected her, and she smiled involuntarily with gratitude.

"Ours."

She heard him take a step towards the screen, his forehead pressed against the material – she did the same, on the other side, hearing his quiet breath.

"– I desire you –" He whispered, and she sighed, feeling his words in her nipples, her lips, the tips of her fingers and her throbbing, swollen cunt.

"– let's last until our wedding – let's make this the night we've waited and longed for –" She said in a breaking voice, feeling that she was losing the battle with herself, his scent, his presence, his closeness making her grow hot.

"– what are you suggesting? – that you won't spend upcoming nights in my bed? –" He exhaled, placing his hands on the screen wall, and she felt a wonderful shiver of pleasure run down her cheeks, along her breasts and down her spine.

"– lēkia –" She gasped and they both sighed as the door to her chamber opened and Lysa stepped inside, holding in her hand the jewellery casket she had ordered for the occasion.

"– leave us, brother –" She whispered in a trembling voice, feeling her womanhood pulsing greedily around nothing, a drop of her wetness running down the inside of her thigh.

"– visit me tonight –"

"– I can't – for at least a few days let me pretend I have dignity –" She mumbled and heard him swallow hard, as if her words caused him pain.

She knew he hesitated, that he wanted to say something more, but resigned – she saw him turn and move towards the door, Lysa bowed to him as he left the room without a word.

She exhaled loudly, stepping out from behind the screen, and Lysa gave her one warm, comforting smile.

She was her only friend.

"They have arrived, my Lady – hair adornments, a dagger and a necklace, matching your instructions in every detail." She said, tilting the lid open.

She smiled broadly as she came closer, seeing the objects lying on the cushion – a thin, delicate golden chain with sapphires framed so that they looked like three water drops – two small and one large that was lying between them – her hair pins in the shape of forget-me-nots, also made of sapphire stones, and a long, beautiful dagger, her gift for her future husband.

She had chosen her jewellery deliberately – her wedding gown was sewn from fabrics in light blue tones and browns – she wanted to show her future husband her devotion to him and her own allegiance to Runestone at the same time.

According to what she had heard, King Aegon began to slowly awaken, but he was dazed and was merely babbling, fed with the milk of the poppy by the Maester – they wanted to spare him the pain, which must have been immense anyway, looking at how much of his skin had been burned in the fire.

However, the fact that he was regaining consciousness worried her Prince, who pushed for the nuptials to take place as soon as possible – he was afraid that his brother, as soon as he found out about it, would forbid the Septon to marry them out of sheer spite.

They renounced grand ceremonies and processions – their subjects were starving, and they did not want them to think that during their great suffering they were drinking wine and dancing, mocking them.

"Thanks to my spies, we were able to prevent great misfortune – a dozen inconspicuous boats arrived under cover of darkness from Dragonstone to King's Landing, filled to the brim with food. They were to be passed on as gifts from Queen Rhaenyra to her subjects. Instead, the food will be distributed on the streets of the city just before your nuptials, so that the whole Kingdom can rejoice with you." Said Otto during the Small Council meeting – her future husband had dismissed his mother in revenge for her affair with Criston Cole, thus freeing up a seat at the table.

As she was a dragon rider and would be participating in the war, she needed to know what was happening, so she was specifically assigned a seat in the Small Council, right next to the Prince Regent's grandfather.

She threw her cousin a quick glance and saw that he was looking at her as well, his grin indicating that he was more than pleased.

"Excellent." He said.

Her betrothed, in keeping with her wishes, had allowed them to spend the nights before their nuptials apart, she knew, however, that he was frustrated and made that known whenever he could.

"No. You stay, hāedar." He said when he closed the meeting and she stood up as did everyone else gathered.

She swallowed hard when she heard the door close – she saw out of the corner of her eye that he stood from his seat and approached her with a lazy, unhurried step.

She gasped as she felt his large hand on her waist, wandering up and down, his other hand without any warning slipped under the fabric of her gown from above and squeezed softly her silky, plump breast.

She pressed her lips together, suppressing a quiet moan of pleasure when she felt his parted, moist lips run over her neck, leaving a wet, sticky trail on her skin, his hot breath making her cunt, swollen with desire and longing, clench greedily around nothing.

"– stop –" She muttered, grabbing his wrist as his hand from her waist and hip slid down between her thighs, closing on her womanhood.

"– are you touching yourself? – hm? –" He asked coldly and she shook her head, panting heavily as she felt his hard manhood pushing against her buttocks, a drop of cold sweat dripped down her back.

"– no – I suffer just as you do, lēkia – please –" She mumbled and cried out, tilting her head back as his fingertips began to gently tease what was under the material of her dress, a wonderful wave of heat surging through her loins.

"– mmm –" He hummed and let her go, leaving her alone, thirsty and quivering with desire, walking out of the room without even giving her a single glance.

Contrary to what her cousin thought, it wasn't just for him that the wait for their night together was agony – her betrothed demanded that since he couldn't touch her, she couldn't either.

She knew that he also did not satisfy his urges in any way, which made him more mischievous – he would lurk for an opportunity for them to be alone and put his hand between her thighs to caress and tease her, whispering in her ear.

"– beg, and maybe I'll fuck you –" He hissed, her hand clenched on his arm.

"– n-no – please, please, stop –"

He let her go then, his jaw clenched in annoyance and some kind of awe, as if he didn't think she could really stand it – her whole body screamed before his eyes that she wanted it, and yet she still refused him.

It was a sign of strong will for him, proof that her words were not empty and her decisions were final.

On the day the nuptials were to take place, the entire Red Keep was put on its feet – Otto feared an attack from all sides, including poisoning, so guards personally chosen by him went to the Sept, as well as to the kitchens, to keep an eye on the cooks and make sure they didn't add anything to the food.

She was surprised by this, but she felt relieved that her future husband's grandfather was watching over everything.

From the morning, Lysa and the other servants had been helping her put on her gown – it fitted her body perfectly, revealing her cleavage and shoulders – the sleeves of the bottom dress clung to her arms, while the sleeves of her top dress, the blue one, was slit at the elbows, falling all the way to the ground.

Some of her hair was pinned up in a bun at the back of her head, decorated with small sapphire flowers, while some fell in waves down her back.

A necklace completed the look – it adorned her long neck and accentuated the colour of the fabric of her gown, however, she actually hoped that this and her sapphire hair adornments would be the only things left on her body during their wedding night.

She shuddered as the door to her chamber opened and she saw Queen Alicent before her – she stepped down from the small dais and bowed to her as did her servants, whether she wanted to or not having to show her respect.

The Dowager Queen stopped before her and sighed, folding her hands in front of her.

"Do you know what kind of man you will marry? Who my son is?" She asked, and she swallowed hard, wondering how a mother could know so little about her own child.

She thought she was simply afraid of the answers to the questions she was asking herself and didn't want to know them, separating herself from who her son was in her mind.

"Yes, Your Grace." She said calmly, looking her straight in the eye. "Our Prince holds you in deep esteem and hopes to earn your praise."

She saw Alicent's lips twitch, her eyebrows arching in an expression of regret, as if her words had caused her pain, her large brown eyes filled with nothing but sadness.

She nodded, as if accepting her words in her heart, and gestured to her servant, who held a small chest in her hand.

"I wish to offer a blessing to you and my son. I ask that you accept this small gift from me, along with my desire for you to be protected by the gods themselves." Said the Queen and opened the lid – she saw a fine gold chain with a small pendant in the shape of a seven-pointed star.

She nodded, looking at it, wondering if, when she went to see her son, she would find at least a few warm words for him.

The journey in the carriage through King's Landing seemed to last for ages to her – the streets were full of happy people – Lord Hightower, according to his plan, began handing out food to the people, leading to a sudden outburst of joy.

The smallfolk, in keeping with his desire, saw this event as a sign, recognising that the gods had supported the marriage between the Prince and his relative by sending them revelry, putting an end to their hunger.

However, for how long will the supplies stolen from Princess Rhaenyra last?

When will their suffering begin anew?

She swallowed hard at the thought that the war had to end as soon as possible, but both her future husband and Dragonstone knew that neither of them had enough advantage to bring the other to its knees.

When she arrived before the Great Sept and the carriage doors opened in front of her, she froze, feeling panic – the people around her were shouting her name, throwing flowers, reaching out to her as if she were some kind of semi-divine being, a symbol of the life they would never know.

She felt overwhelmed and stunned, alone among the crowd, small without her dragon and bow, dressed in a long gown like a doll.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

"My Lady." She heard a voice in front of her, then saw Otto Hightower walking towards her between the guards. "My Lady, give me your hand."

She swallowed hard and did as he asked, placing her palm on his, rough and large. With his help, she walked down a few steps to a small wooden platform, and from it to the ground, feeling that her legs were trembling with fear.

"I am not your father, but I will be more than happy if you do me this honour. It is a difficult journey and no young woman should have to walk it alone." He said calmly, and she looked at him with big eyes, noticing something in his gaze that could have been sympathy or simple concern.

She had always dreamed of someone looking at her like that.

The way a father would look at his daughter.

She nodded, thinking in the back of her mind that if she let go of his hand she would just fall, her legs soft as cotton wool.

As she walked with Lord Hightower into the Great Sept, she heard the sound of trumpets, young girls, daughters of lords and knights throwing flowers at her feet.

It all seemed unreal to her – the temple around her was so gigantic that it took her breath away, the great, tall statues of the Seven Gods towering over those gathered to form a circle, enclosing the entire structure.

At the very centre, on a raised platform stood the altar at which stood the Grand Septon and her betrothed, a sweet emotion squeezed her throat as she looked at his face.

Though he stood erect, with his hands folded behind his back like a statue, she could see that his gaze was hot, vulnerable, his eye large, his lips parted in a heavy breath as if he longed to cry at the sight of her – the fact that she had chosen not the colour of his or her lineage, but his colour, the blue of his sapphire, something only he could understand, the expression of her devotion, her understanding, her affection.

When they stopped at the steps Otto let her go, but she, seeing her cousin's face felt more confident – she grabbed the front of her gown and lifted it, not wanting to step on it, climbing slowly upwards, her steps echoing loudly around her.

She sighed quietly as she stood in front of them, not daring to look at his face, feeling that if she did she would cry for some reason.

It was really happening.

She was to become a wife.

She looked at him and it was a mistake – she felt a squeeze in her throat when she saw him draw in the air loudly when his gaze met hers, as if he felt something deep inside himself that frightened him, his lips slightly parted in a shuddering breath.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Her cousin swallowed loudly, looked at the Septon and then behind him, nodding – Gwayne Hightower approached him with a long black cloak embroidered with green threads from which the figure of a three-headed dragon was formed at the very centre.

The crest of their family and the colours of the Hightowers.

She bowed humbly as he threw the cloak over her shoulders with a sweeping gesture, making sure the material did not slip, and she closed her eyes.

He took her under his protection.

"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." Said the Septon – her betrothed extended his hand to her, standing proud and upright, so she placed her palm on his – the priest entwined their joined hands with a wide, bright ribbon.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." He said, and they looked at each other, her heart pounding in her chest once before they both opened their mouths and their lungs left the words spoken surprisingly confidently and calmly.

"Father,

Smith,

Warrior,

Mother,

Maiden,

Crone,

Stranger

I am hers | I am his

and she is mine | and he is mine

from this day, until the end of my days."

They fell silent, and though she thought he would not do it, that it would be beneath his dignity, he took her hot cheek in his hand and leaned down, looking at her as if he held the entire heritage of Old Valyria in his fingers.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." He whispered, only a quiet sigh escaping her throat as his full, fleshy lips pressed against hers in a deep, warm, moist kiss, so tender and soft that she felt a single, lonely tear run down her cheek.

My love.

When he broke the kiss he didn't move away for a moment, just looking at her, and she smiled in a way that must have made him happy, because he smiled too, shyly and sweetly, like a little boy.

They were husband and wife.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE CHOI FAMILY HEADCANONS

I seriously pray for you if you're related to Charles or Crystal in some way, your privacy is immediately thrown out of the damn window and you won't ever have a moment to yourself since you'll always have your sister Crystal looking out for you and Charles would make sure Gun, Goo and DG keep an eye out for you too. He'd even ask Kouji to place a tracking device in your phone and ensure he always has access to whatever you're doing on your phone, he's a concerned parent after all and he doesn't trust this toxic world filled with darkness that could corrupt you and put you in danger. Look, he might be a complete scumbag and takes the pleasure of ruining people's lives but you're the apple of his eye and he'll do anything to ensure your safety

Let's start off with Charles Choi as a parental figure for you. He'll be controlling, manipulative and won't be above gaslighting you to spend time with him. He's a businessman after all, he's Elite, when he wants something he gets it no matter what and you're no exception for it. He NEEDS to know what you're doing at every second of the day, he doesn't care how old you are, you could be a literal adult and yet he'd still treat you like a child and infantize you. He's overbearing with his protectiveness for you, you almost feel suffocated in his presence. But you won't even realize he's secretly gaslighting you and making sure you're isolated from other people other than him and your sister and the people that he really trusts, he's really crafty and subtle about this. It's for your own good, he keeps telling himself as he threatens and blackmails one of your so called friends to leave you the hell alone unless they want to end up on the news the next day dead. He doesn't care if he's overbearing for you, he has every RIGHT to be overbearing, truthfully, he doesn't even realize what he's doing is wrong. He firmly believes that he has every right to do this since you're his child after all and he's your guardian and parental figure

He likes it when you rely on him for things, deep down he's slightly worried and nervous you'll grow up too fast and leave him and your sister behind and you won't need him anymore. He can't stand and fathom the thought of you being away from him, his paranoia for your safety and fear of losing you would act in an overdrive. Charles Choi has only one weakness and that's you, the dear apple of his eye. He sees you as some defenseless vulnerable innocent little thing that would get chewed up by the world within mere seconds and he'd be damned if someone dared to take advantage of you. It doesn't matter even if you know how to fight or how well aware you are of everything happening around you, he'll still pat your head in a patronizing manner like you're some kind of child and have a slight amused smirk while you're ranting to him. Silly naive child, you NEED him to take care of you

You won't be allowed to live a normal lifestyle, you'll have private tutors to teach you and the day he'll allow you attend a public school or university would be the day HELL would FREEZE over. He knows what sort of nonsense takes place in schools and universities these days with all those cases of rampant bullying and such. He doesn't want you falling into the hands of some lowly thug with no decorum. Of course, he'd have him killed that same night but still, he isn't going to take the risk and chance of having you get hurt. Your safety matters more than your happiness, you could plead with him as much as you want regarding you wanting to go to a public school to have a normal life and he'd just outright refuse you each and every single time, it's like you're talking to a brick wall with him. By no means is he an emotional man, he has no time for such frivolous nonsense but it just doesn't sit right with him when he imagines you getting hurt and getting scars as thoughts of the worst would flash his mind when he thinks of your life at a public school which would make him even more strict about your safety. He never wants to see the day you cry, it would just...pain him emotionally. If you're crying because of him, it was probably because of something unavoidable and he'll gently shush you and wipe your tears away as he pats your head. However if you're crying because of someone else, well...that person would disappear off the face of the earth, he goes straight for the kill. He's a man of his word and always gets straight to the point without beating around the bush, so one single shot to the head to end whatever lousy scumbag who dared to make your tears spill from your eyes would guarantee him to be dead. Surprisingly he won't let anyone else do his dirty work for him whenever he has to kill someone for messing with you, he needs to feel the satisfaction of watching the light of the world and the life leave the person's eyes as he kills them. Of course, he'll cover the death up by making it look like there was some kind of gang violence going on and blame one of his chess pawns and pay off the police department to keep their mouths shut unless they want to lose their jobs and get blacklisted from every company existing

He loves to spoil you till your heart desires. Ask him whatever you want, except for your privacy and freedom and he'd be more than happy to indulge his expenses for you. You like reading and publishing books? Well, look who managed to get a publishing contract from one of the most famous publishing companies in the country? But of course, you're not allowed to publish anything questionable like romance and such, he thinks you're way too naive for such things and you're young for it. You're also not allowed to use your real name. You're also expected to show him your works before you end up publishing something and of course, you won't need to feel the pressure of the publishers and editors pestering you constantly for new works, you can write at your own leisure. Not unless they want their company to shut down and be on the streets for the rest of their miserable lives. He'll never entertain the idea and thought of someone every daring to dictate your life. Other than him of course, he has that right thanks to his twisted mindset of keeping you safe. You like singing and music? He'll get you the best brands of instruments money can buy and a whole karaoke system for you. He'd love to hear you sing and would have a smile on his face, telling you how proud he is of you for your wonderful and melodious singing, he thinks you sing as sweet as a nightingale. Well, in a way you are a nightingale trapped in a golden cage. If you're into art he'll get you the best quality of brushes and you'll have an unlimited amount of canvases and art supplies for your use. You'll have an entire art studio at the house for yourself and he'll be pleased when you hand him a painting or one of your art works. He would definitely store all your works in a secret room to ensure they don't get ruined and where he'll have access too since other people don't deserve to see your talent, they're undeserving pests who don't have the right to look at you in the eye

You won't ever get wind of what he does behind the scenes regarding the crews and gangs and how he rose to power and such and he'll do whatever the hell it takes to prevent you from finding out the truth about him. You'll be left in the dak regarding all the evil messed up things he does and unless someone wants to lose their tongue, they'd better keep their mouths shut. Also there's no reason for you to work, whatever do you want to work for, don't be silly. However if you really want to work, he make you join his company and you can have your own office just for the sake of it but no actual responsibilities. If you think of applying for jobs elsewhere, he'll pull in some strings to ensure you don't end up getting the job. He doesn't care that he's sabotaging your chances of getting a job, you aren't allowed to be away from him, away from your family, end of discussion

While Charles would handle the killings and brutal stuff, your sister Crystal handles the planning and goes for a more calculated approach from behind the scenes. If you have the habit of maintaining a diary, guess who knows all your secrets now and you've also just sentenced half the people in your diary to death. Look, she loves you and cares for you, in her own twisted manner after all, she inherited her father's possessiveness and obsessive tendencies to protect you after all. Like her dad, she views you as someone who's pure for this world and she wants to keep you sheltered in a safe bubble by whatever means necessary. She might love you but the minute you're up to something she will immediately snitch on you to Charles. Don't ever expect her to take your side though during an argument regarding your feelings of being trapped and such, she'll always side with her dad no matter what and thinks he's doing the right thing by shielding you from the world outside. You'll understand in due time how much they love you

If someone picks on you, she'll find a way to ruin their life socially by spreading allegations and such against that person and ensure their name gets dragged down in the mud. Which honestly isn't a hard thing to do for her. She is borderline insane and crazy, she just masks it like her dad, she'll be breathing down your neck every damn second of the day and she'll always have her eye on whatever you do. She'll have Gun and Goo follow you everywhere and she'll tag along as well. You're not allowed to go anywhere without her. She'll also be able to detect whenever you're lying, her eyes will narrow instantly and stare at you with a stern look on her face like a strict parent till she finds out whatever your intentions are and if they're something she and her dad won't approve of they're shutting it down immediately before that thought of yours can grow into something bigger. Even she has access to your laptop and phone, although the only contacts you're ever allowed to have are your dad, her, Gun, Goo, Kouji and DG, that's IT. Don't even THINK about dating, romance is off the table for you

You might not know about the secret of her two bodies, she prefers to keep it that way and her dad told her to let it remain a secret as well, it'll make it easier for her to be with you at all times. She's experienced a lot of bullying from people because of her weight and thinks society is shallow for prioritizing people's looks and appearances which is why she doesn't want you suffering the same way she did and she'll tell you things that'll give you a negative view of romance. She just doesn't want you getting hurt like she did, she's a protective big sister trying to keep you safe. She won't like it if you hang around Daniel too much, he's always getting in some or the other kind of trouble and the last thing she needs is for you to end up being dragged into his messes and the whole crew nonsense so she'll ensure you maintain a distance from him till she sneakily isolates you from him completely. Don't feel bad, you have her to rely on, your sister is always there to lend a shoulder for supporting you. Overall, Charles and Crystal are borderline insane, psychotic and won't hesitate to wipe out anyone who stands against them or tries to take you away from them. You're the apple of their eye after all...

[charliemwrites]

Three to Flee

Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol

Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.

Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring

Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.

Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.

The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.

“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.

Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.

Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.

“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”

Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”

All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.

“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”

Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”

Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”

Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”

Feral hums.

“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”

Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”

With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”

“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”

It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.

“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”

Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”

Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”

Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.

“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.

Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.

“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us���”

It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.

All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.

Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.

They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.

On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.

Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.

The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.

And then it all comes down to walking out the door.

The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…

“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.

All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.

They just left.

They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.

When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.

 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.

They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.

And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.

“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”

Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.

Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.

Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.

“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.

“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”

She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”

“You don’t want to.”

Her eyes well with tears. “No.”

Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.

“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”

Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”

And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.

Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.

[amomentsescape]

Heyyy darling,IM POLITELY BEGGING,for some stu and billy with feral ,hyper,punk gremlin s/o headcanons. Simply the boys trying to be as casual as possible so they dont get suspected for the previous murders but then they’re running around with their own little bundle of chaos. Im talking like a real troublemaker,just for the fun of it but always just watching all the drama happening,never being involved even though they caused it. For example: •causing misunderstandings in other friendgroups •cutting someone’s car wheels (or similar stuff) after they’ve been rude to someone in their friend group,maybe when gale didnt respect sidney‘s privacy in the first movie •S/O has a collection of anything shiny and glittery things they stole (from spoons to necklaces) just cause they like how it looks and they know it will cause some chaos. •Flirting with randy,tatum and stu to piss the boys off a bit •Oh or maybe billy getting them one of those vertical cloths or swings for their living room,I feel like that would fit cause billy would be a bit tired of his S/O letting their hyperness out on him. •When they come home from killing a bit later sometimes,they just find their s/o sleeping in the most uncomfy position (criss cross apple sauce type of shit) on their swing,drooling a bit,their body twitching every now and then

I dont know if any of this made sense my head is all over the place right now. <3

Billy and Stu (Separate) with Feral Gremlin Reader

Billy Loomis x Reader, Stu Macher x Reader

A/N: This was honestly so fun to write!

Billy Loomis

Boy, he didn't quite know what he was getting into when he first became interested in you

But he's in it for the long run, so here we go

Making Billy jealous is a common theme with you

Outright flirting, giggling, and dancing around with other people automatically makes Billy see red

But there's something about his possessiveness that you love so much that you keep doing it anyway

It almost always leads to a fight between Billy and the other party

And damn, isn't it fun to watch?

But that's not to say that you don't also feel your fair share of anger as well

Someone pisses you off even slightly? They're gonna regret it the next morning

Keyed cars, egged houses, graffitied threats

There is no limit to your creativity to get back at them

Billy simply huffs and puffs at you, berating you about being too "loud" with your actions

He's trying to keep things down-low by all means

And the last thing he wants is one of your actions getting him caught and put in jail

But there is something kinda attractive with how you stir up drama and give Billy some attitude

He doesn't like easy

He wants a challenge

And boy do you give him one

But on days where he simply cannot have you running amuck, he has you lay down in your own little hammock he bought you

For whatever reason, that always has you relaxed

It's like you become a whole different person with it

And Billy lets out a little "thank you" to the Gods each time he sees you just swinging away

He loves you, but damn, it's hard to keep up with you

Stu Macher

Stu on the other hand, is not phased at all by you

In fact, he matches your energy about 80% of the time

A friend pissed you off? You're both screaming and laughing while talking badly about them

Things are getting a little boring? You and Stu tell different people made up stuff that someone else is "saying" about them

You both love to stir up drama and watch how badly things can unfold

Stu is less concerned about getting caught than Billy anyways

What's even the point in killing if you can't have some fun outside of it?

So having you around is the perfect way for Stu to let out his hyper energy and keep things exciting when he isn't killing teens

But when he is out and about, he's thinking of you

You're probably at home eating all of his snacks in that moment, but he doesn't care

After his victims meet their fates, he is happy to dig around in their pockets and their homes, looking for anything even the slightest bit shiny to bring back to you

Nothing compares to the way your eyes light up at the gifts

Hell, you have a drawer in your room just filled with all things shiny and captivating

But Stu knows he'll have to wait until the morning to give you your gift

Because just about every night he comes home, he finds your head handing off the couch with your legs and arms splayed out, snoozing away

Remnants of chips and chocolate can still be found on your lips and fingertips

Stu secretly has made a photo album in his phone just for all the pictures he takes of you when you're sleeping

It's about time Stu had someone who met his chaotic energy

[superblysubpar]

return to main menu | Her Body Is Bible masterlist

Honey, On Your Knees

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: Your husband and you get nasty in a church…again.

the song: Holy by King Princess

2.5k words

warnings: This fic is a part of my "Her Body Is Bible" AU - you can find the first story linked at the masterlist above | warnings from prev fic still apply - religious themes, and the holiday Christmas being celebrated | Mentions of trying to get pregnant | Alcohol mentions and use by reader | SMUT (oral - reader receiving / public - in a church again, right off the worship space / steve is kind of edging us a little if you squint)

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

The house was warm, the low murmur of relatives catching up while silverware clinked together mixed with Nat King Cole crooning out of the stereo. Mashed potatoes heaped by spoonfuls onto plates, kids’ new toys scattered in a rush once the ham was carved, and soon wine started to be poured for those of age.

Vivian Harrington simply smiled as you told her none for you and moved on, but the same couldn’t be said for others at the table. 

“Not drinking, huh? Are you pregnant?” 

If his scotch drunk uncle jumped over the line of appropriate, Steve ignored it all together, replying hopefully and without thought. 

“No…not yet!”

He hadn’t meant to say it. 

Your eyes widened, jaw tensed as you huffed out a breath through your nose. Steve’s cheeks flushed, and the table erupted into chaos, terribly intimate questions directed towards you. 

“Oh! Are you trying?! How exciting!”

“When you are, make sure Stephen here does everything. It’s the least he can do.”

“How long have you been trying? Don’t give up, Ben and I took two years, but look at us now…”

“How many do you want?”

“Are you still going to work?”

“Kids? So soon?”

“Who’s having a baby? Uncle Steve?!”

“Vivian?” You called, flagging Steve’s mom over.

You took the bottle of previously passed on wine and gave yourself a more than generous pour, and Steve whispered, “Baby, I thought that alcohol could affect your…”

The look you gave him had his mouth closing quickly, keeping his concern about ovulation and hormones to himself. You turned away from him, then answered every single question with grace and a grip on the glass that made Steve gulp around his own drink. 

Eventually, the table settled into topics that gave you a small reprieve. 

Steve leaned closer, lips almost to the apple of your cheek and you turned, so his kiss was cut off, mouth parted in surprise as he blinked at you. He spoke softly, fingers reaching for yours as he did, “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Should we give you two some privacy?” A quip and waggled eyebrows from the other side of the table, and you plastered on a perfect smile and faked a laugh, poured yourself more wine and Steve’s shoulders deflated. 

You still hadn’t spoken to him. Dinner passed, and then dessert, and then coats were being pushed on and kids wrangled into cars for the midnight service. 

Steve managed to get you close to him in the very backseat of one of the vehicles. He kept his eyes on your profile as you stared straight ahead. 

“Are you going to ignore me the entire night? I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. 

Your gaze turned to him finally and your chest ached from how apologetic he looked. And honestly, you were over it as quickly as it happened, and the glasses of wine helped, and you were ready to say so. But then Steve’s fingers brushed your knee, up and down and back up your thigh. They nudged at the hem of your skirt, testing. His other fingers curled around your neck, words dipping even lower, soft and for only your ears. 

“How else can I tell you I’m sorry, honey?”

Steve’s thumb swiped down your neck, soothing and far too close to your racing pulse. It’d been sort of easy for him lately, and the thrill of making him think you were mad, the chance to make him sweat a little, to work for it, had your underwear growing wet. 

“We can talk about it later, when we get home,” you whispered, sternly. 

Steve nodded earnestly, until your fingers curled into your skirt, until the red, green and gold fabric pulled higher and higher. Your eyes remained on his until he had to look down, to see your black tights were not tights, but stockings. A sliver of supple skin revealed between plaid skirt and where they ended high on your thigh. The black lace disappearing as quickly as it was shown to him as your skirt dropped again, fanning nicely over your thighs.  

His tongue swiped over his lip, adams apple bobbing. He cleared his throat, voice a warning, “Baby-”

The car pulled to a stop, and you were out on the pavement with his family, heading into the church before he’d really even caught his breath. 

He watched you hang your coat, and help his nieces and nephews with theirs. His eyes traveled from the black heels up the black stockings that he now knew ended under your pretty Christmas skirt, curved around your thighs delicately and sinfully. He swallowed at the sight of red velvet over your breasts, at the memory of what happened last time you were here. 

It was easy to slip away as churchgoers caught up over coffee and doughnuts before the service, as kids became preoccupied in the Sunday school rooms with toys. You made your way down a dark hallway under the guise of the bathroom, and had to bite down on your smile as an arm slunk around your waist and pulled you into a room silently and quickly. 

Only lit by the soft light of the navy sky and moon outside, the room was obviously rarely used, a place for mismatched and forgotten things. Steve spun to face you, his fingers behind him clicking the lock closed with a barely audible, but still noticeable click. 

“Yes?” You prompted, folding your arms over your chests and hiding your delight at the way the movement made his eyes flit down to your breasts. 

Steve crossed the room in quick strides, hands finding your hips and tugging you to him gently as he spoke with sincerity. 

“Angel,” his nose traced down the bridge of yours, before he kissed the tip of it, “I’m sorry.” He kissed your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your lips before he pulled away enough to look into your eyes again, so you could see how truly sorry he was. 

“I really didn’t mean to say it, it slipped out. I’m just so excited, and I didn’t even think…” 

“I know,” you offered quietly, as your fingers slipped into his hair, curling stray and unruly pieces behind his ears. Your eyes remained focused on your adjustments, sure that if you looked at his eyes for longer than two seconds, you’d forget you were “mad” and fuck him in a church again. You’d break and he’d have barely worked for it. 

Steve knew this, you think. 

Because your eyes caught the subtle twitch of his lips, the fake deep sigh, the way his head leaned forward until he was at your ear. Hot breath hitting skin in a way that had goosebumps exploding over your entire body, his voice sultry and low as he asked, “Can I make it up to you?”  

“Steve…” your half-hearted start to a protest you didn’t want to give lost as he dipped lower, pressing silk lips to your neck. 

His palms brushed over the curve of your breasts, they skated down your sides, lower and lower to your hips. As your head fell back, they circled to your ass, grabbing generous handfuls and squeezing as his breath grew sharper against your collarbone. Parted lips dragging across it, the tentative trail of his tongue warm and testing. 

“We…we’re in a church,” you gulped around the words, his kisses traveling up the column of your throat now as he nudged your feet backwards. 

“Didn’t stop us the last time.” Steve’s voice was shot, a goner the minute you showed him the stockings. 

Men were too easy. 

Your legs hit a couch arm, and Steve’s fingers grabbed for your jaw gently, thumb pulling at your chin so you had to look at him. Both of your chests moved rapidly, anticipating, as you fell deeper and deeper into the moss and honey in his iris’ - lost in the forest, stuck in the sticky trap. 

His other hand roamed to the hem of your skirt, pads of his fingers buzzing over the skin above the stockings as he pulled the fabric higher. His head cocked in a way that said he knew what he was doing, the ghost of a smile on his lips telling you he knew that you weren’t mad, not really, but he’d play your game anyways.  

“Let me make you feel good, honey,” his lips brushed over yours as he spoke. The chatter of people filling the chapel right outside grew louder, but his voice remained even and soft, “It’s the least I can do, don't you think?”

Maybe you were easy too.  

Because you were nodding, and he was easing you down onto the couch. Steve knelt before you, watching you carefully, hungry, as he pulled your heels from your feet, letting them fall to the ground. 

Your palms pressed to the cushion behind you as he lifted a leg, your words swallowed and caught somewhere in your chest with your breath as he kissed your ankle bone through the thin material. Steve kept his eyes on you, warm and greedy as he kissed up your calf, at your knee until he was at the top of the thigh high. He gently laid your leg back down, and then pulled at your waist until you were at the edge of the seat. 

“You gonna be quiet for me?” 

The nod of your head was pitiful, putty in his hands and from his words as he flipped your skirt up. Steve’s lips pressed kisses to the inside of your thighs, sweet and in a slow way that had heat rising to your cheeks. Your body hot, spine turning to liquid as he nudged his nose into the damp black silk covering you, as his fingers curled into the waistband. 

Steve pulled them from you, sighing at the way they stuck to your lips. He slipped them down your legs, never letting his eyes leave the space between your thighs. He was taking his time, drinking you in with his eyes in a dirty gaze that had your entire body tightening, making you want him more than you ever had, erasing any sort of rationality or thoughts from your brain other than him and this.

His fingers tugged at your hips, squeezing possessively until a whine bubbled out of you, his name a desperate whisper, barely audible over the choir singing. 

He hummed when you spread your legs wider for him, pressing against the couch as he leaned in. His hands roamed down and back up your thighs, until they were spreading you. 

His thumbs held you apart, mouth a ghost over your cunt. Hot breath exhaled against slick lips that had your toes curling and your lungs somehow forgetting how to take in air. He had you on the ledge, and he hadn’t even started. 

Steve pushed closer, the tip of his nose a slow drag through your slit, his lips skimming over your folds behind it, tasting, testing.

His tongue finally made contact with you, a long, slow lick from your entrance to just below your clit, making you wait, making your fingers dig into the cushion and your eyes look towards the heavens.  

Steve did it again, painfully slow, the hot and wet glide of his tongue along you sinful. Over and over, flat, broad strokes of it, tasting every bit of you except for your clit, getting you higher and higher, closer to bliss without giving it to you.  

You were throbbing, an insistent and buzzing pulse under your skin demanding to be felt, demanding to break. It felt like your ears were crackling with static like the speakers the pastor was now giving his sermon in. 

Steve lifted on your hips that wiggled, caressing over the top of your ass. He stopped his movement with his tongue, panting over your cunt, letting his mouth hover against your glistening lips. 

Your chest grew heavier with each rise and fall of labored breathing as you watched Steve’s tongue flick out, tracing the curves of you and letting his nose drag and nudge behind it. Teasing and taunting, pulling every last drop of want out, your body taut and ready to snap. 

Then he looked up at you.

His cheeks flushed pink, and pupils blown wide, lit up in glittering moonlight streaming in through old and warped glass, he looked like something holy and angelic between your thighs. As if he were worshiping you, praying on his knees at your feet.

The grip he had on your hips shifted, pushing down your thighs and spreading you wider, and his voice was raspy as he asked, “You forgive me?”

Your head nodded once, fingers reaching for his hair to pull him closer, desperate for his mouth to be back on you. Your own voice shot, a pitiful whine as you begged him, “Please, need your-ohmygod.”

Steve’s spit hit your clit, making your thighs go to snap close, but his palms held you open forcefully. He wasn’t an angel worshiping, he was unholy, he was sin, he was filthy as he kept eye contact with you and dipped his mouth over you again. 

His lips molded around your pulsing nerves, tongue flicking out in a rhythm that had your entire body lit up, vibrating, fraying and sparking. His hands pushed at your thighs that resisted him, he moaned against you as you fell forward. Your fingers yanking in his hair as your hips moved against his face. 

Steve’s exhale was sharp as he released, sinking lower and dragging his tongue over your slit again. He was faster now, keeping his tongue flat against you as he lapped at your cunt, nose nudging against your clit over and over again as you rocked against it. 

“Fuck, Ste-,” your hand slapped over your mouth and your eyes widened, but Steve didn’t let up. You tugged on his hair, whimpering, and his hand rose, finger pulling at your pouting bottom lip until you were parting for him. You moaned around the black silk he shoved into your waiting mouth. 

He doubled down then, tongue prodding at your entrance, fast and precise licks up to your clit he kept working at with his nose. Steve’s heavy lidded gaze up at you had you crying out around the fabric, your chest crumpling over his head as you grinded down against his nose, unraveling for him. 

Tears pricked behind your eyes, skin hot as you came around nothing but his tongue, he hadn’t even slipped a finger into you. Steve held your waist now as you arched, letting your thighs finally close around his face as he licked over you, humming against your sensitive nerves as he greedily took in everything you gave him. 

He pulled away eventually, nose and lips skimming down your thigh until he was at your stockings. He pressed his cheek to your knee and looked up at you. Your underwear pulled from your mouth and crumpled in your fingers, your eyelashes fluttered as you tried to keep your eyes open, chest rising and falling ragged. You looked at him under your straining eyelids, warmth and affection and something far too sweet for what you two just did behind your gaze. 

The choir was singing again, Silent Night, and your fingers pressed to your lips, hiding a smile and a giggle.

He hadn’t meant to say it, but he was kind of glad he did. 

[bloogers-boogers]

More Marriage au ~

Adam was dragged to a small office for more privacy. He was never the problem?, what was this bitch talking about??

Anyways he was being questioned in almost everything that happened, felt and did while freshly married to Lucifer, it got to the point where it went too deep, and thats when it hit to his first marriage.

"So in the Bible it states you were married two times, is that true?"

"No. It only states when I was married to my awesome smocking hot ex wife: Eve~ and us being created."

"So that's a lie?"

"Not entirely, they just covered up the small mistakes, glossing the story up a bit."

"Which was?"

"Lilith. That unfaithful bitch. They covered her entire existence. Everything related to Lucifer, his rebellion, they didn't even stated his real name in the bible, cause he wasn't "worthy" of being recognized as his angel self. I personally think it would've been a lot more harsher if they kept his old name instead of Lucifer but whatever I guess. Then somehow those nosy ass theorists from the afertmath of Noah's shit load started looking into it too much and found actually more dirt in the hole, that revealed more to our creation. And that's how we got many split versions of it in different scriptures."

"What's his real name?"

"We're not allowed to say it. It's an angel thing."

"Prehistoric heaven stuff huh. But you're no longer a angel, your highness.."

"Fuck you. I was originally a angel before I was murdered totally unjustified btw. How does any of this information does anything in fixing my marriage?!"

The counselor scoffed, but kept her own opinion on that matter (exterminations) to herself. She's a marriage counselor not a therapist, and she wasn't getting paid enough anyways, "you were human. Originally human. Not an angel."

Now it was Adam's turn to scoff offended, but said nothing. He hated to see that side of him after his death on earth. It only brought bad memories, linked to only negative feelings, sorrow and thoughts.

"Tell me more about your marriage with Lilith."

"Pssch what's there to say? Where do I even start? What exactly do you want to know. I can go all into detail about how shit she was as my wife."

"Go on. Tell me everything you want to share, I'm here until 8 and your paying so.."

"More like aPplE hUbBy is paying for everything but whatever, took his card and shit HAHAHAHA! HAAAA," Adam snicker for himself, wiping a tear; thinking he was being funny. But he wasn't. At least for anyone else in the room which was just Gladis (counselor's name) and the only response she did was write a note to that comment.

Note one:

'Apple hubby. A subconscious, possible meaningful name for his spouse. If it referring to events of the bible, may mean about the whole apple incident (weak spot?) or it could be related to King Morningstar's obsession with apples (concerning). Or both.'

"Firstly she cheated on me. Obviously. That's the whole tea, bitch. Secondly she didn't agreed on anything I did, suggest or thought. It's like she wanted to be against everything I believed in. Nothing I did to impress her sastified her. She made ME question my entire faith and existence!" The more Adam spoke the more his pupils shrank by the dark memories of his past.

Note two:

'First wife trauma.'

"Then Lucifer shows up and POOF! Now everything that twink ass looking angel did was 'amazing' and worth looking forward to. He only sang and dance with her, ONCE, and it was like, her whole world turned around.. facing away from me..."

"And did Lucifer have any connections with you at the time? Did he also approach you when he firstly approached Lilith? Did you two spend time together? Talk? Bond?"

"More like it was all a whole distraction for their affair to continue."

"So you two did have a relationship."

"It's complicated."

"Why was it complicated, Adam?"

Adam's face soften in sadness. The question taking him off guard. He wasn't entirely sure?

What went wrong. What did he do, to not deserve Lucifer and Lilith's loyalty? Friendship, honesty.

Why wasn't he ever worth something. Enough.

"I have no fucking idea, man. I was literally perfect, still am and yet they wanted more than what they could bite and CHOKE on it in the progress."

"You're including Lilith in this. Why's that?"

"Because those two bastards were a team. The damage was done by both, all planned out and ready for what was gonna come. Got both me AND Eve. It's plural. I wish I could say I was alone in all this but I wasn't which is why it makes things hard to forgive and forget."

Note three:

'Gayass.'

"So how did you two end up falling in love?"

"We didn't, we kinda just poofed into existence already married and stuff."

"I meant you and King Lucifer."

"Just call him Lucifer he doesn't deserve that sorts of respect, he's an ass. A snake full of cock that doomed humanity."

"How did you and Lucifer get together," she asserted much more frustrated seeing Adam was getting nowhere to the subject in hand.

Adam then realized immediately everyone actually thought they were truly an item. Well this went awkward all of a sudden. So he decided to keep up the lie.

"I died."

"And—— what else?"

"Wdym 'what else'? Bitch wanted to complete the full set y'know. First dick, father of humanity, the only one that refused to join him. I'm basically his forbidden apple."

"And you just let him?"

"Sure. Why not? What's there to lose y'know. That's my jam. I just go with the flow. If it works for me then let it be damn and fuck me hard, I'm fucking doing it."

"Adam, are you taking this session seriously?"

Adam in response digs his pinky finger inside his ear with indifference, "Look. I just want answers, babe. I don't want spiritual solutions or tips. Tell me how to fix this."

She sighed, "when was the last time you two were intimate?"

"WOW, wow. WOAH. Where going to that territory now? Little tea maker right here but whateves."

So Adam went on full detail on one of his sex escapes back in heaven, plastering Lucifer’s name on whatever freak he has fucked in the last centuries. He was not in any way gonna go on about sex with Lucifer (they did it only two times; one outta traditional terms, the second we don’t talk about the fucking second.) that shit was private and humiliating to say the least.

He blushed. Just the thought of Lucifer’s claws running down his skin and his fangs digging through his neck and wings. It sent shivers down his spine. Made his throat go all dry and his limbs all numb.

Previous >> Next

[wauln]

[ What Happened To Jamie Foxx ]

[moonybelgug]

⋆˖☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

warnings: !MDNI! gn!reader, subby baizhu, CANON BAIZHU HE’S SICK!! light angst? i mean it wasn’t intended to be sad but not including zhu’s illness is illegal, dry humping, m!receiving mostly we don’t need to cum when there’s a pretty princess on our lap right, not proofread i’ll edit if i see something wrong later 🙏

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

“Is the doc in?” You knock on the doorframe to his personal room behind the pharmacy. Baizhu has his back turned to the door as he fills out what you could only assume are prescriptions. When he doesn’t repond, but mumbles out some numbers to calculate, you approach his side, setting a hand on his desk to look down at what he’s doing. Baizhu glances up, surprised to see you and he quickly jots down his number then returns to you with a serene smile.

“What brings you here so late?” He asks, setting the his writing supplies aside and placing his hands against his back to stretch. You notice Changsheng isn’t there on his shoulders like she usually is, then you also notice Qiqi is nowhere to be seen either.

“Just wanted to pay my favorite doctor a visit. Where have your little helpers gone?” You ask, brushing hair from his face as he removes his glasses.

He rubs his face tiredly. “Qiqi was drug away to a sleepover with Yao Yao.. Changsheng has left to go find something to eat.”

“How long will she be gone?” You ask, trailing your fingers from the apple of his cheeks to his neck, following them with quick kisses that make Baizhu hum like a cat purrs.

He smiles and cups the sides of your face, kissing you lightly. “Soon, probably. She’s not one to dawdle.” You click your tongue in annoyance, but continue your mission. That snake will simply have to learn to live with it, or let you have some privacy for once.

You hook your hands under his thighs and lift him up slightly, making him wrap his arms around your neck with a wary chuckle. You sit where he once was, facing the back of the chair and then you set him back down, on top of your lap. Baizhu adjusts his rear to be comfy against your thighs then his smiles and leans down, mouthing at your lips as your hands squeeze at his ass and thighs.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” the good doctor murmurs against your lips as he tries to grind against your stomach. You grip his hips a little firmer.

“Don’t joke like that I might think you’re being serious.” You nip.

It’s rare when anything escalates from just kissing, between conflicting schedules and short visits, and his condition, the two of you very little get to satisfy each other. Hell, you don’t know if he even does anything for himself while you’re gone.

You lift a knee between his legs, giving him a good bump to rub against, making him bite his lip as he gyrates against you, his body resembling his serpentine friend.

That damn crop top.. the way he dresses should be outlawed. You tug the hem of his pants down bellow his hips, letting his half hard cock peek out. You rub his tip with your thumb, kissing his jaw as he lets out open mouthed moans of pleasure, his hair sticking to his forehead.

He’s sweating a lot, you notice. Kissing his cheek, you place a hand on the small of his back. Baizhu opens his eyes, his fingers digging sharply into your shirt as he listens to you and repeats the phrases you give him, confirming his wellbeing. He takes a deep breath when your hands disappears into his pants, fondling his balls and stroking and squeezing his sex. He comes quickly after that, his whole body shuddering as he lays his head into your shoulder, panting deeply.

You grab a couple tissues from his desk and clean him up before tucking him back in, kissing his cheeks and cooing at him for doing so well.

Baizhu smiles softly, before looking away and coughing into his arm waving a hand at you when you show concern.

“I’m okay,” he says, clearing his throat.

“You need to lay down,” you pick him up easily and he lets you, walking him over to his bed where you both lay down.

“Was it smart of me to do that?” You ask him, tucking his hair behind his ears as he gazes up at you, the back of his hand caressing your cheeks.

“Mm.. we’ll see, I suppose.. but whether or not it was, I’m glad you did it,” he grins cheekily before covering his mouth and turning away as another fit of coughs overtake him. You rub his chest, watching him with worried eyes, regretting making him exert himself so much. He must’ve felt you looking at him like a sick dog as he pats your cheek. “Don’t look at me like that. I could have told you to stop, but I didn’t. I wanted this, so just-“ he coughs into his arm once more. “Just lay down.”

And so, you lay down and he wraps his arms around you, and you him and he quickly falls asleep.

⋆˖☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[andrewlobel]

The Future of VR: Andrew Lobel’s Perspective on Apple and Meta Headsets

In the dynamic world of virtual reality (VR), Apple and Meta (formerly Facebook) are key innovators. Andrew Lobel, with over 26 years of leadership experience, offers a unique view on VR's future.

The VR Revolution: Virtual reality, once futuristic, is now transformative. Statista projects the global VR market to reach $62.1 billion by 2027.

Apple’s VR Ambitions: Anticipation surrounds Apple's rumored VR headset, expected to feature high-resolution displays and advanced tracking, leveraging its ecosystem of 1.65 billion devices for seamless integration.

Meta’s Metaverse Vision: Meta, a VR pioneer, is focused on creating a shared virtual space. With 2.8 billion monthly active users, its rebranding underscores its commitment to VR.

Challenges and Opportunities: Despite VR's potential, privacy concerns and accessibility remain challenges. A survey by the XR Association highlights privacy as a top concern for 37% of respondents.

AR and VR Convergence: Apple and Meta are also investing in AR, blending real and virtual experiences. This convergence promises to reshape digital interactions.

User Experience: Success hinges on user experience, with 82% of respondents in a Greenlight Insights survey identifying it as crucial for VR adoption. Both companies aim to deliver intuitive interfaces and engaging content.

Conclusion: As VR evolves, insights from leaders like Andrew Lobel and efforts from tech giants like Apple and Meta will shape a dynamic future, blurring the lines between reality and the virtual world.

[gummishiki]

hello ~~~ i know it might be a little sick but how about if you want of course one that wally kidnaps the reader after they've seen him do something bad? he keeps them in the basement but the reader refuses to eat driving wally crazy, what will he do to make the reader eat????

that's what i wanted to do

( I love you friend )

It's what's inside that counts 🍎 [ part 1 ]

of course friend :D I shall do my best

(y/n) is a farmer puppet :D not really an important thing I just thought it would be cute :))

tw : kidnapping, vomit, blood, force feeding, obsession, overall dark themes, wally being a silly messed up lil fella

🍎 you had never intended to intrude on wallys personal time with home, everyone in the neighbourhood knew how much he cherished their time together and you had all subconsciously agreed to not question wally whenever he claimed to want to spend some time with home.

🍎 you had only wanted to deliver him some fresh new apples, picked just that morning from your apple tree which brings you to where you are now with your felt knuckles repeatedly knocking on homes door.

🍎 after a few minutes with no answer, you grew slightly concerned. wally was known to always answer the door immediately, he would "never leave his beloved neighbours to stand outside for to long" in his words. you found his consideration sweet.

🍎 with a slight hesitation (you cared about your neighbours privacy of course, you'd never purposely Intrude on them) you twisted the handle of homes door noticing how it was left unlocked which wasn't all that uncommon in the neighbourhood.

🍎 what was uncommon however was how unsettlingly dark home was. you moved forwards and away from the entrance, not taking any notice of how the door slowly closed by itself. with fear in each step you continued to walk forwards in hope of finding wally.

🍎 "wally, you there buddy ?" you felt your voice waver as you attempted to stay calm. a sudden creak of a floorboard caused you to yelp slightly, looking in the direction in which the creak came from you noticed a door slightly ajar. ignoring every survival instinct in your body, you placed the basket of apples down and you felt yourself move towards the door and peak through the gap it had left.

🍎 you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight in front of you.

🍎 taking in the scene infront of you, you couldn't help but shake at the sight of endless amounts of canvases around the room, all in which had eerily accurate and realistic portraits of some oddly recognisable creature that you found looked familiar.

🍎 they didn't look like puppets, they didn't have brightly coloured skin or oddly shaped eyes. they had no stitches, no obnoxious hair styles or bright clothing.

🍎 they weren't puppets, they weren't from the neighbourhood. so how did you recognise all the different faces staring back at you ? why did you recognise them ? you sworn you had never seen them before so why do you feel like you have ?

🍎 "just adorable, aren't they ?" you shrieked at the sound of a voice behind you, turning around as fast as you could. "wally, there you are !" sweat built itself down the side of your face as you stared at your dear friend. his eyes blank, pupils dilated as he stared at you, unblinking.

🍎 "I'm sorry, I never meant to Intrude" you attempted to explain yourself as wallys eyes never left yours. "it's just, well you weren't answering and I got concerned so..." you trailed off as wally made no movement to move his gaze away from you.

🍎 a sudden chuckle from your dear friend caused you to blink in surprise. "its alright neighbour, don't worry" his voice sounded hollow, no noticeable emotion could be found in his tone. it unsettled you.

🍎 "um..." you finally managed to find your voice and speak up. "my apologies if this is a rather personal question friend but, who are they ?" you noticed how wally seemed to lighten up slightly at the mention of 'them'.

🍎 his smile seemed to stretch as his pupils expanded. "why they my dear neighbours, they are the viewers" his voice still remained emotionless despite the bright expression on his face.

🍎 "the...viewers ?" your voice wavered, what ever was your dear friend talking about ? were these 'viewers' from a book or show he watched ?, they must be.

🍎 noticing your questioning expression, wally wordlessly took both your felt hands and locked them in his own as he stared at you with an elated expression on his face. "yes, yes !" he exclaimed. "the viewers, they are the ones who are watching us !" you jolted at his sudden claim, wally however gave you no time to think as he continued. "they are the ones who we perform for, the ones we teach valuable lessons to, the ones we were created to entertain !" you felt yourself begin to shake.

🍎 "w-what do you mean wally ?" you attempted to say in a humorous tone. surely he was joking, surely this had to be some sick joke he decided to pull on you.

🍎 "we aren't performing for anyone wally, we weren't created for entertainment. what are you going on about ?" you notice wallys demeanour deflate slightly as his grip on your hands tighten.

🍎 you felt an eerie feeling fill you as wally continued to wordlessly stare at you, not once had he blinked throughout your entire interaction.

🍎 "ha, ha, ha" wallys laugh had always sounded off to you. there was never any tone or humour behind it. just a hallow fake sounding laugh. "my dear neighbour, surely you must believe me" he suddenly pulled you forward causing you to stumble over your legs. " I have proof !" his voice raised, desperation evident in his voice. "I have proof of their existence, that they are the ones who created us and that they are the ones watching us!" he gave you no time to process your thoughts as he hastily dragged you along with him as he turned and rushed forwards towards a door you had never noticed on pervious visits to home.

🍎 you were dragged behind him as he hurriedly ran down jagged creaky steps. you felt cold and unsettled the second you heard the door slam shut behind you. wally paused, finally reaching the bottom step of what you now gathered to be a basement, causing you to nearly topple over him.

🍎 he gently shoved you forward towards a TV with nothing but static showing on the screen. "home showed me this when I was feeling lonely..." wally trailed off, you could still hear desperation in his tone. "I sat here for hours, watching them" his gaze remained unmoving from the static.

🍎 he turned to you, looking at you softly as he spoke "now you can see them too friend, you won't be lonely ever again knowing that they are watching us" he smiled gently at your shaking form.

🍎 "wally..." you hadn't realised how sympathetic your tone sounded, but wally sure did. "wally, I don't see anyone".

🍎 wallys gaze shifted back to the screen. still, only static was shown. "whatever do you mean neighbour ? don't you see them ?" he remained staring at the screen, his smile never leaving his face.

🍎 a sudden jolt from your friend caused you to yelp as he pulled you to the ground in a sitting position. " ah ! I understand now " not once had he blinked. "it took me a while before I could see them too, perhaps all you need is time friend !". you didn't like how that sounded as he held both his hands on your arms.

🍎 " you can stay here, until you see them." his tone sounded demanding yet desperate. "nonono, wally I can't stay here !" you yelled. "let me go home okay, I'll forget this, I'll forget everything I saw and forget everything you said" you didn't want to stay in this cold dark basement any longer, you just wanted to go back to your farm and pretend this never happened.

🍎 wallys grip on you tightened, "no ! no you can't leave until you see them !" tears of frustration poured down his soft felt face causing you to stare at him in both sympathy and anger.

🍎 before you could open your mouth to protest, a thick black substance fell from the ceilings pipe and into your mouth causing you to choke. your vision began to fade as you ripped your arms away from wallys grasps and brought your hands up to your throat.

🍎 the last thing you see before blacking at was wallys blank, dilated pupils staring down at you with desperation.

-timeskip-

🍎 you lost count of how long you had been kept in that cold dark basement, unmoving from the TV that remained only displaying static that had begun to drive you insane.

🍎 everyday, every morning, afternoon and night withouf fail, wally would visit you. he would sit next to you for hours on end gripped onto you telling you how sorry his was and how he couldn't let you go until you saw 'the viewers' just like he claimed to had.

🍎 one afternoon no different than all the others for you, wally had made his presence know to you as he sat next to you. the same routine as every other day. however, this time you noted how wally held a familiar basket in his hands. it was the same apple filled basket you brought to home that you had intended to give him.

🍎 "my dear neighbour" he spoke in a shakey tone as he stared up at you. " I never thanked you for the apples, but I thought of how bad of a friend I would be if I were to not share them with you" he smiled at you. your expression remained blank as you stared at the screen Infront of you. you can't recall the last time you spoke or moved, you felt trapped, stuck in this position.

🍎 wallys shoulders dropped slightly as his smile wavered. he picked up an apple, now visibly molding and held it up to your mouth. "please (y/n) " his voice shook with desperation and emotion as he attempted to open your mouth. you remained unmoving.

🍎 wally began to shake as he finally opened your mouth, the sudden movment caused you to snap out of your daze as you thrashed about. the rope wally used to tie you down in a sitting position seemed to tighten around your form.

🍎 "get away from me !" your voice was hoarse as you yelled at him. "don't touch me, I'm not eating anything, go away !" you made an attempt to bite at wallys hand as he shoved the apples into your mouth.

🍎 you choked back a sob as you thrashed around. the molded apple felt like mush in your mouth. you cried, screaming at someone you once viewed as a dear friend. you began to heave, bile quickly rising in your throat.

🍎 wally hesitated, but he moved backwards slightly as you spewed out the molded apple he had just forced down your throat. your frame shook as you heaved at the sight.

🍎 "I-I'm sorry friend, I didn't mean to-" wallys shoulders shook as he felt tears build up as he stared at you frail form. "don't come near me !" you cut him off, not wanting to hear any apologies or sympathy from him. "get the fuck out, get away from me, leave! " you screamed, tears still streaming down your face as the vomit below you began to spread.

🍎 wally stared at you, on the verge of crying again. he didn't understand, what had he done wrong ? why weren't you seeing them ? why wasn't anything working ?.

🍎 "I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT !" your voice cracked with emotions as you screamed at wally who was now trembling. he turned away from the sight of your pathetic form and wordlessly made his way up the creaking stairs.

🍎 as you heard the basement door gently shut, you felt like you could finally breath again. you turned your head towards the tv.

🍎 "you won't leave me, right neighbour..." you trailed off, gaze unmoving from the tv as you began trembling again.

🍎 the tv remained showing nothing but static. who are you talking to (y/n) ?.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT WAS MY FIRST TIME IN A WHILE ACTUALLY WRITING IM SORRY IF IT SUCKED ☹️💪