#candice lowe

[fromthestacks]

View From the Top

[sashmarie1111]

Candice Patton Instagram Story 

[evansbby]

my fav vs angels of all time:

[romanstheory]

Ride Slow a Bronco Nima One Shot

Warnings: Smut, Size Kink, Edging, Alcohol, Bronco x Fem OC

Word Count: 2,610

Person in the picture

"Respectfully Hunter, I'm not doing this match" Hands crossed tightly around my chest, my weight bearing on my right leg. "I told you I'm not doing another tag match and I meant that". The last tag match I was in I got abandoned and forced to compete in a handicapped match at NXT battleground. Hunter lets out a low sigh before rubbing his frown lines. "Look Lena that's understandable but this is what Creative has come up with for you. It's either this or nothing." Fuck. It's either this or nothing... this or nothing. My face curls into a frown before I finally respond "Who is my tag partner? Blair? Indi? Candice?" Not that it matters, whatever bitch he has me teaming with won't have my trust. Simply get it, destroy, and get out, I don't even want my hand raised at the end.

"Well creative is trying to mix things up around here... No pun intended. You'll team with Bronco Nima, they've got it planned out for a while since he split from OTM when the two of you got drafted to Smackdown from NXT." Hunter looks over his glasses at me "We're trying this all out to see how the crowd reacts. You two are total opposites so we figured it would be interesting." Bronco Nima... Even in NXT we didn't really speak. "We're your guinea pigs" A sarcastic huff leaves my lips before I shake my head slowly. "This or nothing Lena, just think about the opportunities this could bring. If this all goes well we could introduce a mixed tag title, of course, you and Bronco would automatically get a title shot." Hunter says resting his hands on his desk. An opportunity to make history makes this whole tag team thing more appealing.

"Some people are out in the ring rehearing and warming up, I heard Bronco is out there too. He already knows about the plans so I would go make a game plan with your new tag partner" He says before shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk. I nod and make my way to the empty arena. Voices echo through the deserted place. Superstars are littered around the ring, but only Bronco is inside. Rolling, running the ropes, shadow boxing. His 6'5 frame is striking even from a distance. I jump onto the ring, standing on the apron watching him. It's criminal how good he looks, sweat beading on his forehead, muscles pumped full of blood, a grimace across his face. I can just barely see over the top rope due to my 4'11 height.

Suddenly he stops what he's doing an that grimace turns into a smirk. "Can you even see over the ropes?" He chuckles. A swift eye-roll is my response to him. "You gonna come in or are you gonna fight with the ropes to get a good look?" His hands rest on his hips as his chest heaves up and down fighting to fill his lungs with air. Quickly I duck under the middle rope and get into the ring. "I'm guessing Hunter finally told you?" He says walking closer to me. With every step I feel smaller and smaller under the presence of..... him. "He did, and I'm not exactly happy about it but he mentioned a mixed tag title" Keeping my eyes on his feels like a full time fucking job at this point.

"Yeah, he said he knew you would give push back about it." He chuckles, that fucking chuckle. "You were talking shit about me with my boss?" My reply is quick and sharp. "Look I'm not exactly happy about it either I just came from a tag team the last thing I want is to be shoved back into one. That's beside the point, we're a team now so I need you to get your head outta your ass so we can practice" Bronco replies "I want us to try this finisher". My eyebrows raise to my hairline, nobody has ever talked to me like that. But shock aside I listen. We run the ropes and practice bumps over and over again until we have some sort of chemistry, and then it's time to try the finisher Bronco was so adamant we do. He slaps my hand to tag me in, I climb to the top rope, he backs into the corner. I step onto his shoulders, his hands in mine.... they have to be at least three times the size of my hand. Oh god.... My mind is racing... Get it together Lena. Once I'm stable I release his hands, and do a front flip onto the superstar laying on the mat willing to take the bump to help us.

Swinging my curly hair out of my face I smile and look up at Bronco who is returning the look. "Do that tonight!" Carmelo Hayes calls from outside of the ring. "I told you it was gonna be fire!" Bronco says grinning. He sits on the middle rope, gesturing for me to go through. I can help but to put my ass in his line of vision as I exit the ring. His gaze is like fire burning a hole through me. Before I know it he's just steps behind me, I can feel him still silently staring at me before I turn around quickly. "It's rude to stare Bronco, if you're going to look at my ass then at least tell me it's nice" I crane my chin to look up at him. "I don't know what you're talking about." He says with that dumb ass smirk on his face again.

---

I haven't seen or talked to Bronco all night, I huff loudly before lacing up my black boots before heading to the curtain. Jumping up and down in place to hype myself up I close my eyes and lean my head back. Soon after I feel those eyes burning through my body again. "You really have to stop staring at my ass dude. It's unprofessional" I say not bothering to look back or even so much as open my eyes. "It's crazy to assume that your ass is the one i'm looking at. There's a lot of ass around here, chaparrita" He says now standing next to me. "Yet clearly mine is your favorite because you keep staring a hole in it" Raising an eyebrow I shift my weight to my left hip, lips pursed together.

"Just don't fall on your fat ass while you're on my shoulders and we're cool. Wouldn't wanna bruise it" He winks when our music comes on... It's time.

---

My chest heaves as I climb to the top rope, Bronco already waiting in front of me seething at our opponent. His muscles tense as he awaits me to step onto his shoulders. The lights hit him in a way that makes him look damn near like a God. One foot and then the other onto his shoulder and then his big hands take mine just like we practiced. The crowd roars with excitement and he takes one, two, three steps and releases my hands before I front flip and land on the opponent. "one, two, three" The crowd screams before the bell rings. Flipping my hair out of my face I get up and scream. Celebrating, I walk backward straight into Bronco unknowingly. My ass presses into his thigh and those hands.... those big hands of his rest on my hip softly before reality sets in and my heart drops before I pull away from him.

"That was dope as hell!" Carmelo says dapping Bronco up before pulling me into a hug. "Welcome to the big league yall. Aye I got a section tonight and some of us are linking up y'all should pull up." My mouth opens to reject but Bronco interrupts "We'll be there" He says glancing down at me. We'll be there? Why the fuck would he say that? I..... We just worked our asses off in the ring the last thing I want to do is hear music blasting, I want to relax... But since he's already committed us to going I guess I'd better go take a shower. With an eyeroll I begin walking to the exit. "You really gotta get rid of that attitude of yours." Bronco says from behind me. "I don't have to do shit!" I retort. "I'll get rid of it for you, chaparrita" I can hear the smirk in his voice. "And stop calling me that! What does it mean?" I turn sharply. "Short, shortie, you're short" He cackles as he walks past me.

---

The music beats through my body like a drum, I refuse to ride with Bronco to the venue so I make my way through the crowd alone stopping at the bar to take a shot or two of liquid courage. I approach the section guarded by a security guard who lets me in without a word or hesitation. I walk in, immediately locking eyes with Bronco who has a glass of dark liquid to his lips. My body warms from the shots of liquid courage I took in minutes ago. Slowly, so slowly he walks toward me, gulping down the liquid. It feels like all eyes are on us, I can't tell if it's the alcohol making me think we're the center of the universe or if everyone really is staring. Wrapping his arm around me he bends down until his lips ghost my ear "You look good" His voice is rough and smooth all at the same time. I melt into his touch, I can't help myself.

I turn to him, pressing my body against his. He raises his eyebrows, sliding his hands down to squeeze my ass only making me press further into him. "You keep it up and we bouta leave early" His voice just loud enough for me to hear above the bass of the music. As much of a good time as that sounds like, my liquid courage has kicked in and I want to dance. Grabbing his big hand I lead Bronco further into the section moving my hips to the beat, my ass settles on his thigh like it had earlier in the ring. His lips purse into an o shape before he rests his hands on my hips, swaying back and forth with me. I can feel him growing behind me. but honestly, it just makes me move faster and closer to him. He buys us another round of shots before sitting on a nearby chair, pulling me into his lap.

"You know all these dudes keep staring at you, right? Like real hard" he chuckles "Trick basically broke his neck when you walked in". So I wasn't tripping. I shrug and gaze into the crowd of superstars in front of us all dancing no doubt drunk out of their minds. If they're staring, we might as well give them a show, right? Softly but firmly I grab his chin and press my lips against his. The taste of henny was still on his lips. Again his strong hands grip my ass, harder this time as if he's trying to rip my shorts off. Our lips disconnected with a smack, and our faces were still so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. "Don't do me like that if I can't have you, chaparrita." Bronco's voice low and raspy and I swear he could feel my excitement through my clothes the way I can feel his. Suddenly kissing him wasn't enough, I need all of him.

"I never said you couldn't" I purr into his ear. Bronco's eyes widen and he moves me off of his lap, standing quickly. "I'll catch you later Melo, something came up" Bronco says quickly dapping Carmelo up again but he says nothing only laughs. 'something came up' yeah his dick.

---

The hotel room for clicks shut behind us, my body buzzing with lust and liquor. Clothes fly off faster than anything i've seen before. Bronco picks me up with those hands I keep imagining around my neck. He presses me against the wall hungrily kissing my neck and chest. He nips and kisses my skin like he's been waiting for this moment, like he's been fantasizing about it and finally had his chance. It feels like a dam has broken between my legs when my eyes shoot open. My body craves his on mine, I need to be closer. His eyes meet mine, dark and low and without a single word exchanged he moves to the bed. Slowly he slides one finger into me, my body aches with a need for more.

"It's dripping already." He groans. His fingers are long and thick, it only makes me wonder what his dick looks like. Quickly he begins pumping his finger into me, eyes never leaving mine as I squirm around gripping the sheets like my life depends on it... and it very well might. As soon as my climax threatens to undo me he takes his finger out. "We come together." Is all he says. My body aches with need to release. He wants to edge me on, two can play that game. "Lay down." I demand and he listens willingly. Slowly I begin to straddle him, making sure he gets a good look at my body. I circle my hips around his long thick dick. Bronco grips my ass, making me gasp softly.

"You are about to make me lose my mind" He growls softly. Planting soft kisses along his neck and jawline I grind back and fourth along the length of him, precum threatening to come out. "We come together, remember?" I whisper before stopping my motion. Something animalistic takes over him and he digs his fingers into my hips, a surge of pain and pleasure jolt through my body before I lift myself and push his length into me slowly... so.... slowly. I sigh loudly, my body relieved to finally have him. Quickly I bounce up and down on him. Softly he grabs my hips, stopping me from raising again. "Ride it slow" He says softly "I wanna enjoy it, all of it." His voice is like some sort of mix between a moan and pure need, he needs to see it all.

Slowly I rock my hips back and forth, grinding and bouncing in between. His eyes drift around my body but always land back on my face even when he rubs soft circles around my swollen clit. My legs are stretched open around his thick waist, his long muscular arms glazed with sweat drape over my legs. "Fuck!" He growls "Lena! Fuck!". My name on his tongue is sexy. He presses himself into me from underneath making me yelp. "You're so fucking sexy" He groans. His dick glistens with my juices as he pushes in and pulls out of me over and over again from under me.

I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes, is this euphoria? My climax is approaching. His mouth gaped open before an inaudible sound left it. Lightning strikes through my middle and I let out a final yell at the same time that he lets out his final swear word and we are both finished. We come together. I collapse on his warm heaving chest before sitting up, hands in the area my face just was. "They're all going to know we fucked when we go back in next week." I say softly. A chuckle "Then they'll know not to stare so hard next week too." He replies

[luciddreamingcrow]

Abandoned by The Creator{Sagau}

Summery: After your friend decided to move on from genshin they give you their acc to play with.

Some context before reading!!: in this sagau the characters see their original owner of the acc as the creator

Gene & Warnings: angst(?), fluff, themes of abandonment, also I most likely misscharacterized some characters here and there!

After some more weeks they still haven't lost hope, they still waited in the same spot that they were left at. The creators mains started to panic wandering if they weren't enough for them, blaming themselves for what happened.

•✧⊰

After a few days passed and still nothing, why isn't the creator coming back? Every single character was thinking why would they abandon them? We're they doing to low dmg? Weren't they good enough? Are they ok behind the screen? They couldn't think of any other reason why the creator was gone, at the 30th day of the creator not logging in the characters assumed that they were just burned out and were just busy, they'll come back eventually.

But atlas they logged in! But it wasn't the creator that logged in, but it was you, they have heard of you when the creator would talk to you or text you, your characters would visit their world and defeat bosses together once in a while, but where's the creator? Why are you here instead of the creator? Where is the creator in the first place? Has the creator abandoned them? Everything was so confusing but they still were obeying your commands (well not everyone) doing the daily commissions quests etc. Some of them rebelled against your wishes, like for example:

Whenever you'd pres W to walk they would disobey and use their still or their burst out of spite just to annoy you,

or when you'd cook they would never give you a bonus or their specialty,

or whenever you'd enchant a artifact they would purposely try to get the artifact to land on flat defense or hp and never the substat you want.

But this rebellion wouldn't last for that long, because eventually they would notice the amount of effort you are putting on them, from the way you pamper them with new artifacts, new weapons or even giving them some precious constellations, some of them even got a place specifically made for them in the teapot.

But not every main reacted the same way to this major change

•✧⊰

✧°These characters accepted the fact that the creator won't return and made peace with it and in the end accepted you as their new creator, for now they are enjoying the luxuries that you are gifting them, but there's still a hint of yearning for their first creator:

Kokomi, Kazuha, Albedo, Candice, Thoma, Yungin, Nilou, Ningguang, Xiangling, Yanfei, Layla.

✧°These characters accepted the fact that the creator won't return but they are still way too emotionally attached the the creator but they try to move on and be thankful that they have someone else to take care of them but they are afraid to get too attached to you:

Diluc, Noelle, Kayea, Sucrose, Yaoyao, Yae Miko.

✧°At first they refused that the creator isn't coming back, always hoping that one day they'll be back, but after a long period of time they accept that the creator just won't come back. They may have accepted this fact and might accept the fact that now you are the creator and cherish you but their harts will belong to the first creator and nobody else:

Ayaka, Jean, Nahida, Alhaitham, Beidou, Thoma, Barbara.

✧°These characters need a bit more time to process this huge change, they are still confused and unsure whether not to trust you, will you abandon them like the creator did? They are not sure but give them some time and they will warm up eventually:

Itto, Shenhe, Ganyu, Tighnari, Bennett, Ei, Xingqiu, Yelan, Kuki Shinobu, Sara, Lisa.

✧°These characters wouldn't show any sign of sadness or confusion but they feel betrayed beyond words, and how dare the creator abandon them! Doesn't the creator have at least pity on them? after what they have been though? They would most likely side with the new creator out of spite just to "show" the first creator what they are missing because they "choose" to abandon them:

(more mad than sad) Scaramouche, Diona, Ayato(?), Rosaria.

(more sad than mad) Fischl, Childe, Mona, Xiao.

[patheticbabie]

Hi, Candice,

Igotanidea (pun intended) for you:

Jay (obviously) with a s/o reader who's afraid of physical affection. Maybe she was abused in the past or maybe sth else (your choice). So everytime he tries to get her "in the mood" (iykwim) she flinches and escapes and ices him, even if she wants him so bad. I leave it to your imagination whether he can walk past her inhibitions or not (but hopefully so, cause damn you, for posting those Jay pics :D)

TY :)

We’ll get through it - Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: body dysmorphia, past eating disorders, comfort, implied smut, angst with fluff at the end. 

Word count: 1,935

A/N: this took me a while to write, because I wanted to be careful with this theme. Also, requests are still open, but it'll take some time to get through, as I've suddenly become sick with the flu. Also thanks @igotanidea 💗

A stressful week called for date night. His idea. They’ve both hardly seen each other due to her working mornings and him late until the night, sometimes until dawn breaks. It was a nice change of pace, to be all dressed for her boyfriend.

She stood in front of the mirror checking over her makeup and painting on a deep red shade of lipstick. Standing back from the mirror, she eyed her outfit, a figure hugging red mini dress with black heels. She looked stunning, but she couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of the fat of her hips peeking through the sides of the dress. She pinched her right side and sighed and thought maybe she could go to the gym or cut back on snacks.

Making his way into their shared bedroom, Jason stopped and leaned against the doorframe, with a smile and let out a low whistle, she was a sight for sore eyes, even more so in his favourite colour. Pulling her out of her negative thoughts, she gave him a soft smile as he made his way towards her to wrap his arms around her waist.

“You look absolutely beautiful, especially in red princess.” He said softly before leaving a kiss on her neck and shoulder. 

Eyeing their reflections she couldn’t help but disagree with him, “I don’t know…love, but I think it’s a bit tight?” 

His hands made their way up to the exposed part of the dress, as he gently caressed her, “Not at all baby, to me you look perfect. Now come on, we don’t wanna miss our dinner reservations” pulling away from her, he watched as she grabbed her clutch and he held his hand out to her with a smile. 

***

Dinner going smoothly, with the two catching up on what has happened during the week, Jason talking about how Dick got his ass handed to him by a Gotham rogue for his stupid puns, she couldn’t help but laugh as he told her how it happened.

The mood lighting of the restaurant enhanced her features, even more so as she laughed. He stared softly at her with a dreamy smile. He softly grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers “Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh, and how beautiful you look when you laugh too?”

Pink dusted her cheeks and a small laugh escaped her lips “A few times, you corny man”

“Hey, it was me being corny that won you over” he joked

In their private area in the restaurant, she got up from her seat and made her way to him, as she sat down on his thigh, delicate fingers running through his hair, catching onto the white streak. He gazed up at her and kissed her softly “I love you princess.”

She sighed softly and cupped his face “I love you too.” before pressing a soft kiss to his lips

***

The elevator ride up to their floor felt like it went forever. Teasing touches and stolen kisses were given as his girlfriend tried to push him away with a laugh. Finally reaching their floor, she grabbed his hand and led them down towards their home.

Trying to fish the keys out of her clutch, Jason had his arms wrapped around her waist and kept leaving kisses and lightly biting at her neck, grinning as she fumbled to put the keys into the lock.

“Babe…how am I supposed to get us through the door if you won’t behave?”

“Hm.. you tell me baby” he held her tighter and licked over a spot he bit a bit too hard.

Sighing with relief she finally managed to open the door to their home, before he spun her around, and picked her up effortlessly, as he shut the door with his foot and pinned her to the door. 

“Still want me to behave?” he gave her a smirk, watching how flustered she was

Shaking her head, her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He chuckled at how she was at a loss for words, as he led them towards the couch, the bedroom just seemed so far away, and he didn’t know if he had that much patience to not rip the red dress that drove him crazy all night.

Sitting on the couch, he leaned back with her on his lap, as he reached for her chin to pull her closer to kiss. The red shade, also driving mad, wanting to know where else it would happen to stain. Wasting no time, she kissed him back passionately, tongues intertwined with each other, as both of their hands eager to feel one another.

When oxygen became a need, she was panting deeply, and her fingers carded their way through his hair, sighing when he left kisses down her neck traveling to her collarbones. Hips grinding against his ever growing hard on, she let out a soft moan of his name, as he bit down on her collarbone to leave a hickey. “Feels so good Jay”

Her hips moved even faster on top of his, she couldn’t help but moan loudly feeling his cock through his pants. “Fuck….please I want…I want..” she couldn’t finish her sentence, not knowing what exactly she wanted, his fingers? Lips? Cock? 

With a hum of agreement, his hands made their way to the back of her dress, easily finding the knot, before slowly undoing the bow. Stilling her movements on top of him, her eyes popped open, suddenly feeling self conscious about her body. She flinched slightly as she felt his fingers lightly tracing her hips.

Not hearing her whines or moans, he opened his eyes, and pulled back slightly to look at her, “princess what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked his voice laced with concern 

“I- uh…suddenly feel tired..I know I'm a mood killer. I-I’m sorry” she whispered, and if he wasn’t so close to her he wouldn’t have heard her. Getting off his lap, she stood up, gaze avoiding his as she tried to smooth down the invisible wrinkles in her dress.

Sensing something was wrong, he just nodded and gently grabbed one hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss “it’s okay honey. Don’t be sorry. How about we get changed into comfy pj’s and watch a movie and cuddle, is that okay?”

“um…I-I have an early start tomorrow. Next time yeah?” she gave him a fake smile, she hated lying to him

With a nod, he didn’t wanna push her if she didn’t want to make love or watch movies and cuddle with him. 

***

Days later, every time he tried to get her into the mood, she always had excuses. First it was that she had some work to do, second she suddenly remembered she had to go to the gym, or even lying about being tired. He thought he had done something wrong, and she felt bad, because all those times she wanted him just as much. But negative thoughts plagued her mind about how she suddenly didn’t like her body or that she looked fat in all her clothes. Which led to her going to the gym at least 3 times a week, early mornings when he was still asleep, and her skipping out on meals, just to attain a perfect physique.

It was a week later when he decided to ask her what was happening. He had noticed that she flinched away from his touches, and only resigned to pecking his lips, not sitting on his lap, and of course, the lack of meals.

He came home to find her in their bedroom, looking at her figure, and heard her mumble “there’s still fat…god why do I have to look this way?”

His brows furrowed as he heard her talk bad about herself. With a sad sigh, she let out a quiet sniffle as she slid down the front of their bed and wiped away a stray tear, “Jay didn’t fall in love with me, just to let my figure go.” she whispered to herself.

Head on her knees, her tears fell down her cheeks, unaware of him making his way into the room to sit beside her. He gently nudged her knee with his, and waited for her to acknowledge him. She looked up and her eyes were red, tears streaking down her cheeks. He looked at her sadly, and tried but failed to wipe away the tears.

She buried her head onto his chest as he held her softly and kissed her head. His heart broke hearing her sobs and choked breaths. It took a few minutes for her to calm down a little, before she heard him ask what was wrong.

“I’m sorry Jason, I feel like I let myself go. And you don’t deserve to love someone like me, completely flawed, who barely likes her own body, who can’t even keep her boyfriend satisfied.”

“Hey hey, have you met me? I’m flawed too, baby. And who cares about sex? I just want you to be happy, feel loved and safe. Tell me what’s wrong?”

Unable to meet his eyes, she wiped away the stray tears that had gathered again “It’s…I think I’ve relapsed, I’m not too sure. But since date night, I’ve been noticing things I hate about my body, which is why I’ve been avoiding you, skipping meals and going harder at the gym more than lately.”

He was patient as he listened to her, heart breaking as he heard her talk about herself in that manner. He knew about her past eating disorder, all of which stemmed from her ex best friend in school, her older sister and an ex boyfriend. He didn’t know how anyone could say such cruel things to you. Wordlessly, he gathered her into his arms, and tilted her chin up to look at him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know I care about you princess, I love you so much that I wanna be the one who can take away your pain, or carry it for you when things get too tough. I’m not going away, I’m here, even when you can’t fathom why someone loves you, I’ll be here to remind you, how much I love you, and that you’re always going to be beautiful to me, no matter what shape or size you are.”

“But Jay, please don’t lie about that. I just wanna be perfect for you.”

“Who said I’m lying? And you’re always perfect to me baby.” he said softly and gently cupped her face and left a kiss on her forehead and both her cheeks. 

“I know you’re going through a rough patch right now, I understand, it’ll take time, but I’m here, I’ll always be by your side, to hold your hand, and be your personal hype man. I promise you that.”

“You really are madly in love with me, even when I look like this.” her eyes soft, with unshed tears. For once in her life, feeling as though someone might actually care enough to help her take on her problems.

“How could I not be? You’re the love of my life, and I wanna make you feel safe and loved. All your battles? We’ll get through it together, cause no way in hell am I giving you up.” he gave her a soft kiss and then held her close to his heart.

[crookedteethed]

RADIO appearance (1) | e.m & s.h

Pairing: Rockstar!EddieMunson x Radiohost Fem Reader x BandManager!SteveHarrington

Summary: You're seemingly going nowhere at your job at Studio 66. You finally get your big break when your boss meets a terrible fate. Given the opportunity to become Mental in the Morning's newest radio host, you embark on a never before experience when you fall into a love triangle between Corroded Coffins, Eddie Munson, and his manager, Steve Harrington, all while trying not to lose yourself to your sudden fame. What will you choose? 

Warnings: Cursing, Misogyny, Love Triangle, Sexual harassment in the workplace, eventual smut, Drug and alcohol use, slowburn, mentions of blood, Character death

Authors note: Wanted to give writing on Tumblr a try. Let me know how you like the story and thanks for reading.💗💗 Word count: 2,463

RADIO appearance ⭑ materiel list

Divider credits- @cafekitsune

Circa’ 1991 

Spike Van Dyke was an idiot. 

He was the type to ask you for the time, even though he had a shiny metal Rolex banded around his wrist, just to purely get on your nerves. Spike was the type of person to play obnoxious clown honks and buzzers on his morning radio show as hungover parents rushed their children off to school in their minivans or Subarus. Spike also was the person to ask you if you were "Mental in the Morning?!" And if you weren't, you would get sprayed with silly string and get kicked in the tush. 

Spike didn't like me; well, he acted like he didn't like me. Said I had the type of looks that made a freight train take a dirt road, per se, compared to Candace "Candi" Jones. 

Here comes the sad part. My family says it's sad, but I like to think otherwise: After being told I wasn't good enough, I didn't quit. Anyone with an ounce of self-respect in their bones and dignity in their gut would quit after being told they weren't good enough, but I stayed. I've been Spike's humbled assistant for four years now—not like he needed one, though. 

Despite being obnoxious and sometimes rude, Spike was a low-maintenance guy. A day's work for me is grabbing him bottled water after he's choking on a fly, getting into his mouth from gawking at Candace. 

"Metal fucking sucks." The sound of a crowd booing and then a loud tuba-sounding "Womp womp womp" plays in the background—radio imaging. 

Now where was I? Spike Van Dyke was—is—an idiot.

The big and bright “ON AIR” sign lit up my face as I watched from outside Studio 66. 

“Now Spike, you aren’t saying that because Corroded Coffin is coming to studio 66 tomorrow, right?” Candice said, a shit-eating grin plastered on her lips. He only kept Candice as the co-host of Mental in the Morning because she once flashed him her big silicon Double D tits at a wet tank top contest he was hosting. 

“Oh, that’s a load of bullshit, Candi. And you wanna know why?” “Why?” “You wanna know why that’s bullshit, Candi? Because I hadn’t even heard of crowded coffee—” “Corroded Coffin.” “Until you just brought them up seconds ago.” Spike shrugs, leaning his back in his seat and swinging his feet in his chair because they barely touch the ground. 

“I don’t know, Spike, you have a reputation for making your guests mad. Remember when you called Madonna a sellout?”

“She never denied it.” 

“And when you called Steven Tyler a creep?”

"That one's true and we all know it." 

"Ok, so let me get this straight: are YOU, Spike Van Dyke, going to play nice tomorrow for the Corroded Coffin boys?"

Spike shrugs again. "Depends, Candi, why don't you play one of crowded coffee—" "Corroded Coffin." "Eh.. yeah, why don't you play one of their songs? I'll have my conclusion at the end of the break." 

"Welp, you heard it folks, whatever Spike wants, he gets. Here's "Hellmouth" from Corroded Coffin's sophomore album "Mutilation, Sickness, and a Little Death." Make sure you all stay tuned after the break, and also don't forget to stay—"Candice points to Spike, and in his dreadful, languid voice, he says: "Mental in the Morning." 

At a click of a button, the dark and muddy strings of Corroded Coffin's "Hellmouth" ring through the speakers of studio 66; by the time the long interlude is over, I only hear a snippet of Munson's throaty singing before Candice and Spike come out of the studio. 

The "ON AIR" sign is now turned off, but it's only until the break is over. "That was a good take, guys." I softly say as Candice and Spike leave the studio.

Y'know, when I was five, I dressed up as a brick wall for Halloween--I'd thought it'd be funny. Who knew I'd still be in the same costume fifteen years later? Spike walks straight past me, like the wall I am.

Candice does pay mind to me, leaning beside the same wall as I, looking at the short and stout Spike Van Dyke going straight to his favorite intern--Bonnie, I think her name is--just to mess with her for his shits and giggles.

"Should I start making apology gift baskets now?" I ask her.

She asks. "Maybe he'll have a change of heart this time? You know, I've noticed he hasn't been staring at my breast as much lately. I think that's a sign for something."

"A sign for what?" Now it was my turn to tsk. "That he's finally gone through the lobotomy he so desperately needs?" 

I look up at her, and she's laughing. Candice wasn't that much taller than me, but her hot pink stilettos made me look like Stuart Little standing beside her. I join in on the laughter, too. But the joyous moment is cut short when we hear an "eek!" from the intern and see Spike pinching up the ends of her frilly white skirt. 

"Poor girl." Candice says. "One day he's going to mess with the wrong person." Candice mutters.

Black and green sludge starts swishing in my body, and I think I will be sick. I watched the intern's skin become extremely pallid, and her eyes turned a shade of fear. Any other time, her skin would be pretty porcelain, like an antique doll you'll find in an upscale market, and her eyes would shine the brightest green. 

"I hate to say it, but it's kind of like a rite of passage for the girls of Studio 66 to get hounded by Spike, right?" I hear Candice say from afar; she sees I'm gone when she looks over. 

And out of the emergency exit and down three flights of stairs I go, I find myself in front of studio 66, looking out at the crowded streets of New York City, and thinking of Bonnie, the girl with porcelain skin, and Candice, the 5'8 glamazon.

A "Rite of Passage" it was. It wasn't a shocker when Spike liked you; he shows it. He's done it to many women prior before he's done it to Candice, and now he's doing it to Bonnie. Bonnie was just an intern today, but she'll be Spike's new assistant tomorrow. Why hadn't Spike taken a liking to me? Well, according to him, I'm "too boring." I’m simply plain and simple—old, boring Y/N. 

I know it's wrong, but how else should I feel? It's not like I wanted to get filled up by Spike; that's disgusting, but if that meant I get to do something at my job or move up a position, then so be it. 

Fuck. How would I do that when Spike doesn't even look at me?

Bonnie was about to be promoted while I was off somewhere, filling out yet another job application. Maybe I'll apply to Coney Island. At least then, I'll have the joyous laughter of children or exciting screams from amusement parkgoers to drown my sorrows. 

"You have an expressive face." A voice says beside me. I look up at the stranger; his fluffy-looking hair draws my attention away from his face. The warm stink of nicotine fills my nostrils, and I feel the hairs on my body prick the fabric of my clothes. When I relaxed my face, I realized how scrunched tight I had it. 

"Jesus, what kind of deep shit are you in, kid?" He asks. He says "kid" as if he and I didn't look remotely close in age. 

"You got another one of those?" I say, pointing to the cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. Without hesitation, he goes into his left boot, pulling out a pack of Camels. I pull out a cigarette--his last one. When I have the cigarette in my mouth, he whips a white lighter with its blazing flames. 

"Thanks." I say, my voice almost muffled. I nearly gag from the nicotine as I smoke it. 

Cigarettes sucked. They only looked cool as an accessory--accompanied by a cup of coffee and some old French novel. Other times, cigarettes look fantastic when they're used by guys who stare at you so intensely, waiting to hear what you have to say. 

"Um--" I freeze; his eyes roll down my body before meeting my eyes again. "It's rude to stare," I say, nerves starting to leave my body as the nicotine seeps in. 

"It's rude to leave people hanging." He snaps back. "What's gotten you so pressed?"

I huff, "Spike Van Dyke, that's what." 

He hums. "With a name like that, how couldn't he? Did his mother even love him?" I let out a nervous chuckle, somewhat wary about talking to the stranger, but he gave me his last cigarette, which meant he was ok?

"We're in the same boat, y'know?" he says, playing with the cigarette between his fingers. 

"He'd hit on your girlfriend or something?" I cock my eyebrow, and I feel a smile form on my lips. "Say he did hit on your girlfriend, and you're here to kick his ass; you wouldn't say anything if I let you in without a badge?" 

"No, I'm not here to kick his ass." He breathily laughs. "Your funny." He says. I wasn't joking. I deadpan.

"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington." He introduces.

Why does the name seem so familiar? I squint my eyes at him. 

"Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n." 

"So, I take it you work here." he points his thump to the building. "At Studio 66?"

"Not for long; I'll be working at Coney Island soon. I could get you tickets, perhaps?

He laughs again, and for the second time, I wasn't joking. 

"Yeah, my band--the band I'm managing--you've might've heard of them? Corroded Coffin? I'm here for them." 

Something in my brain snaps. 

"You're Corroded Coffin's manager." I state that's why his name was so familiar. "You're the one we talked to about the interview." 

He nods. "Yep." he drags. "That's me." 

"I didn't expect you to be so..."

Good-looking? The good-looking that would make you instantly popular--taking it back to my high school days. Most of the managers I've met in the past have been the Spike Van Dyke type, y'know, bald and plump with deceitful eyes and a deceitful chin and wandering hands. 

"Preppy? Not the type to manage a band who sings about war, destruction, doom and misery?" 

"Took the words right out of my mouth." 

"I'm reminded of it every day." He says, now leaning on the cold brick wall, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dark blue bomber jacket. 

"Your interview isn't until tomorrow." I say. 

"Yeah, but I'm here to talk to Spike, that guys an idiot." 

As if that still needed to be established.

"I bet you won't say that to his face." I dare. 

With a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes, he took me up on the challenge.

Spike took Steve's comment well, I think. 

"Ok, so what do you want me to do?" Spike shrugged. 

"All I'm saying is, Corroded Coffin won't do the interview if you're going to be a..." 

Steve's eyes met mine. I look at him wide-eyed and boggled, sitting on the edge of my seat beside Spike's desk. Steve jitters a bit, switching all his weight from one foot to another. 

"An asshole." 

I would've preferred the word "dickhead" instead, but "asshole" is close enough.

"But "asshole" is my brand. If you or Corroded Coffin don't like it, I'm glad to not have you all on my show." 

"Should I remind you that we were the ones to get a voicemail from you guys? You're the one that wants us here. My group will be damned if you think we're going to let you disrespect us." To convey his authority, Steve places both hands on his hips. A smirk creeps onto my lips.

Spike squints his eyes, gnawing his teeth. "Who sent you here?" He asks. "Was it that hotshot—what's his name? I forget." Spike snaps his fingers. "Munson." 

Steve scoffs. "I'm here on the behalf of all of Corroded Coffin." 

Spike rolls his eyes and says: "Y'know Munson has a "bad" reputation himself. I'd seen his little stunt he pulled with Rush the Radio a few weeks back." 

As if it were him involved in the horrendous event, Steve mutters a "Jesus Christ" and runs his fingers through his bouncy hair. 

"I mean, who gets mad like that over one little question? My poor guy Rush is still paying for the damages that little shithead caused." 

It was Steve's turn to squint his eyes and gnaw at his teeth. 

"You all should be grateful that another radio host wants to have the spawns of Satan on their show." Spike continues. 

With a few nibbles of his fingertips and a long, harsh stare, Steve concluded: 

"Let's agree to disagree. If you don't act like such an asshole, my guys won't either." Steve says. 

"Harrington, I think we have a deal." I had a crawling suspicion that Spike had his fingers crossed behind his back. 

Steve and Spike shook on it, thus the ending of their little spat. It was not climactic enough, but indeed, it was entertaining. Spike gets my name wrong when telling me to walk Steve out. 

"Problem solved?" Steve says, seemingly trying to convince himself and me that "the problem" was resolved. When really, that was only the tip of the iceberg. 

Steve gives me a piece of paper with his personal number on it; his fingertips touch mine in a subtle exchange. I feel a sting of heat that twinges my body; I blame the August searing heat. Steve says to call him if anything significant happens between now and tomorrow, though I highly doubt it. 

I watched Steve walk down the pavement and turn the corner to 13th Street. I feel a small smile creep onto my lips, holding the piece of paper with his number on it close to my chest. 

When I return to Studio 66, my smile fades when I watch everyone scatter around in a frenzy. My eyes follow the pattern of warm blood that puddles to my ankles. The trail of blood seems never-ending, but that myth is busted when my eyes land on a good as dead(?) Spike Van Dyke. 

His eyes were stapled shut, followed by a few staples around his dome and neck. My eyes followed the body that hovered over him. Bonnie—the porcelain skin—intern, hovers over Spike's unconscious body, a stapler in her hand.   

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP(s) as Moodboard Tag | Tagged by @raresvtm and @rhettsabbott

rules: show a moodboard and an important phrase or dialogue from the current fic you are writing!

WIP: In Hope Of Tomorrow:

An all-too-familiar melody emerged in a low whistle as Eloise moved through the forest, a part of her hoping it would coax the Sinner out of hiding before the Judges would inevitably track him down and cost her her first real opportunity to get back into Jacob's good graces. "I'm done babysitting at St. Francis during the goddamn Reaping.", the word was almost a curse on its own when her eyes finally landed on a figure wobbling away with whatever strength he had left within him after days in captivity. "Come on, little birdie, it's time I get you back into your cage." Her breathing remained slow, even, as she pulled the bow taut and focused on the target. Eloise could have simply aimed directly at the Sinner, taken the clear shot, instead the arrow flew by his cheek, burying its tip into the tree next to him and announcing her presence. What's a manhunt without a hunt? She knew the objective was to get him back in one piece, and quickly, but that didn't stop her smile when he twisted his head around and his eyes met hers as she drew another arrow in a challenge. Fight or flight? I would enjoy either.

WIP: A Trial Of Errors:

Whatever hope Sabrina harbored about her mother cutting her surprise visit short evaporated the second the bathroom door closed much too loudly behind John, who had chosen the worst moment to get up and take her up on the offer of an uneventful shower. Candice raised an eyebrow before giving her a knowing smile, "I see you have company, darling."

Tagging, @strangefable @strafethesesinners @direwombat @finding-comfort-in-rain @jackiesarch

@simonxriley @cassietrn @socially-awkward-skeleton @voidika @imogenkol

@aceghosts @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @carlosoliveiraa @trench-rot

@tommyarashikage @icecutioner @purplehairsecretlair @wrathfulrook @la-grosse-patate

@theelderhazelnut @shellibisshe @killyourrdarlingss @dumbassdep @g0dspeeed

@gearvmac @cloudofbutterflies92 @justasmolbard @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries

@kyberinfinitygems @derelictheretic @harmonyowl and anyone that would like to do the tag 🤍

[talkingtea]

One thing is for certain. Grant and candice hooked up, and I don’t think it was a brief hookup either. I think they had some type of extended affair that only stopped because Grant got caught. (Side comment: I also think Grant cheated on LA at other times but that’s a whole other story). As we have seen, Candice has a habit of seeking the attention of unavailable men who are already in relationships. Maybe it makes her feel great that she can do that or whatever, but obviously it is a symptom of her low self-esteem. That of course still does not excuse Grant’s horrible behavior as a co-lead.

☕️☕️☕️

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 30 - Finishing Touches

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organization The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

TARGETS MASTERLIST

-------------------

Nine days had gone by since Jasmine and Roman left Rose’s house. Eleven days since Jasmine was tortured and Roman was shot in the shoulder by Baron Corbin. Somehow, they survived and Corbin did not. That had to mean something, that as long as they were alive and breathing, they still had a fighting chance. But though their wounds were healing, neither was sure they would ever be at a hundred percent again. 

Jasmine's ordeal had taken a toll on her psyche. The first night, she'd woken up in a cold sweat, the feel of Baron's grimy hands on her still as suffocating now as it was then, the smell of her burning flesh entrapped in her nostrils. The second night, she had almost broken Roman's nose as he tried to shake her awake from her nightmare. Shaken and embarrassed, it took some convincing to the Samoan that she would be okay. As traumatic as it was for her and as harsh as it sounded, Jasmine knew she had to brush it off and concentrate on putting their plan to action. All of F.L.O.R.A. and the Authority were looking for them now, and they had missed the deadline for their Jamaica rendezvous with Rollins and Ambrose thanks to Corbin. The two men were now off the grid, most likely for their own safety. Roman did not blame them. The couple kept on the move, not staying at one particular place for too long, and they continued to strategize and stay in shape as best as they could, given the circumstances.

As the days got closer and closer to executing their final plan, Roman decided to treat his girlfriend to something nice. Since they couldn’t travel to any exotic destination at the moment, he brandished his considerable skills and was able to scam his way into obtaining a nice swanky suite for two days at the W Hotel, the very same hotel chain where they first spent an incredible night together all those months ago. It was a pleasant contrast to the dingy accommodation they had been inhabiting for the past week, and the huge smile on Jasmine’s face as she plopped down onto the soft, clean white sheets of the king bed like a little girl was the perfect reward for him. 

Biting into a croissant from the vast breakfast tray from room service, Jasmine perused the contents of the carry-on Rose had given her. It contained two brand new passports; one for herself, named "Ameera Candice Johnson", and the other for her "husband" Roman, under the name "Afa Jonathan Johnson". She calculated a hundred thousand dollars in cash in four different currencies. Rose would have provided more, but F.L.O.R.A. had monitored each of their operatives' accounts ever since Jasmine turned rogue, to ensure that none of them were financing her. Jasmine's own accounts and credit cards had long since been frozen. The money was adequate for now, but she and Roman were going to need much more than this if they planned on disappearing forever.

And she knew just where they were going to get it.

She heard the bathroom door open, and then a whooshing sound from behind her. Instinctively, she twisted her upper body around, catching the incoming missile expertly with her right hand. She glanced down at the tube of toothpaste and rolled her eyes. "Really, Reigns?"

Her boyfriend stood by the bathroom door, a white towel hanging low on his hips. "Just testing your reflexes, my beautiful Nubian rose," he informed her.

"My reflexes are just fine, my handsome Samoan stallion."

Roman smirked. "Stallion, huh? Cuz you love ridin’ me?"

"Oh my god, don't start." She shook her head with a smile, getting up and approaching him. Giving his chest an affectionate pat, she took off her clothes, stepped into the walk-in shower and turned on the hot water.

The Plexiglas quickly grew foggy from the hot water, but Roman could still see the curvaceous outline of her silhouette. His breathing grew heavier as he watched her spread the lather over her naked body with her hands. He was aroused in seconds. He'd just showered but he didn't mind going back in for another. Quickly discarding his towel, he walked into the shower and shut the glass door behind him.

Standing behind her, his hands roamed her jagged skin, carefully tracing the scars Corbin had left all over her beautiful body. "Fuckin' piece of shit," he growled, "I should find him, wake his dead ass up and put another bullet in his head."

Jasmine found herself chuckling at that. "Down, boy. It's getting better, thanks to Rose’s lotion."

"You're still not sleeping well, though." Roman's tone was quiet but pointed, feeling her bristle at his words. "Baby girl, I know Corbin did a number on you..."

"Don't worry about me, my love. I'll be fine," Jasmine promised, turning her head to meet his eyes. "Let's just focus on tomorrow, and hope we live through it."

"We will. We have a good plan. A brilliant one, even."

"You're very confident," she smirked.

"I am. Because we're good. Very good. We make a great team, Jasmine."

Jasmine smiled. "We do. It’s like we’ve known each other forever." 

“Like soulmates?” asked Roman.

There was something about that word, just the mere utterance of it, that seemed to unlock something, opening another chapter in their romance. Jasmine looked deep into Roman’s eyes and saw everything she needed to know. 

“Just like soulmates,” she agreed with a soft smile. She felt his thumbs gently massage the base of her neck, and gradually relaxed as he methodically worked the tension out of her neck, shoulders and upper back. She closed her eyes, a soft contented sigh escaping her when Roman kissed the scar on her shoulder blade. He inched closer, his chest flush against her back, his hands slipping around to rest against the flat plane of her abdomen.

Jasmine trailed her hands along the contours of his muscular forearms, her fingers intertwining with his. With a soft moan, Roman dipped his head, his lips meeting the curve of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. His caresses soon found her breasts, and as he massaged them and rolled her nipples between his fingers, that familiar erotic feeling surged up inside them; the one that pushed out all other thoughts and focused on no one else but each other.

“I love you,” whispered Jasmine.

“I love you too, baby,” Roman replied, capturing her mouth with his when she lifted her head, his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers. She rotated her body around until she was facing him, her knees weakening as she took in his naked form and the hunger in his eyes. He gave her no breathing room as he backed her up against the shower wall with his mouth back over hers. She moaned in encouragement at his eagerness, feeling his desire, the tender urgency in every kiss and touch and caress – it had been a while since they last made love, and she would be lying if she said she didn't want him inside of her.

Their tongues clashed fervently, craving the taste of each other, the heat of their desire radiating through the small enclosure. Roman's long fingers threaded through Jasmine's wet hair and angled her head back to attack her neck with his lips, his hard body pressing against hers. She dragged her fingers down his muscled back, pulling him even closer, if that was possible. His low growl vibrated in his chest as he rolled his hips, making her moan as his erection rubbed against her lower belly. His hands gripped her ass cheeks, kneading and squeezing them between his rough palms as they grinded against each other.

“I love the way you feel beneath my hands, baby girl,” he whispered in that deep timbre of his that always made her melt inside. “I love the way your body reacts when I touch you and love on you. Like it knows it’s mine.”

“It’s yours. Baby I’m all yours,” she answered without hesitation.

Roman growled in appreciation and pressed open-mouthed kisses against her warm skin, his tongue rolling over as many goosebumps as possible. He licked his way down her body until he was on his knees. His hand then slipped down to palm her leg before hitching it over his shoulder, gripping her thigh to hold her steady as she found her balance.

“I got you. Relax for Daddy, baby,” he assured her, watching her stare down at him, licking her lips as she nodded. Nuzzling his face against her soft folds, he breathed her in, his brain filling up with the heady mix of shower gel and her natural scent that called out to him to be devoured. He was all too happy to oblige. 

With the tip of his tongue, he flicked her clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, gripping her hips as she bucked against his face and tugged his hair hard. He hummed softly at the slight pain, swiping the flat of his tongue along her slit and groaning at the taste. So good, so rich. He licked her thoroughly, repeatedly, his thumb sliding in to play with her clit at the same time. Her voice went up several decibels in reaction, her fingers digging into his hair as he slurped her juices.

"Baby…shit," Jasmine groaned above him, "Fuck, Roman..."

Groaning back to her, he widened his mouth over her pussy for a slew of French kisses before letting his fingers take over, sliding his mouth back over her clit. Keeping her pinned against the wall, he proceeded to destroy her by suckling and tonguing the sensitive nub while pumping three fingers inside her. His already hard dick twitched at the sweet sounds of her pussy and her cries for him, echoing around the enclosure as he milked her nectar, drowning out the running water. Jasmine arched against the wall as she detonated, her inner muscles keeping his long, thick fingers in a death grip. That grip was broken as she broke, her body falling to pieces from the intense pleasure.

Roman gently set her leg back down and got to his feet. Jasmine collapsed in his huge arms, burying her face in his neck with a soft, satisfied moan as he pressed her back against the wall. “Jesus, Ro,” she gasped.

“I got you,” he whispered. He lifted her head up to kiss her, his tongue sliding indulgently against her own as soon as she opened her mouth for him.

"Mmmm, I taste good," she panted, licking her lips with a grin. 

“You always do,” he responded, placing his mouth back over hers to taste her some more. Her wet body stuck to his, and his dick stirred again. Feeling him throb between them, she wasted no time reaching down and curling her fingers around the turgid length, rubbing and tugging it, biting her lip as she met his heated stare.

"I want it deep in me, Daddy, give it to me." She spoke in that pleading, breathy tone he could never resist. Throwing the shower door open, he pulled her behind him, both still dripping wet as they stumbled out of the bathroom. Upon reaching the bed, Jasmine sat Roman down and stood between his spread thighs. Her hungry stare locked with his as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and slowly massaged it. 

“Be a good girl and come suck Daddy dick,” he drawled, his hand sliding up and down the thick, delectable length. Fuck, he looked so enticing laying down like that. Like the good girl that she was, she sank down to her knees, her hand closing around his dick, and she slashed her tongue over the swollen head. Roman watched her intently as she sucked him, feeling his knees weaken as she sank him further into the inviting warmth of her mouth. Her soft moans were everything, even as she took him all in, making gulping sounds around his cock that never failed to send shivers down his spine. His hand cupped the back of her head, letting out a moan of his own as she grabbed his balls, tugging them in tandem with her sucking. 

His groans of pleasure and his dark intense eyes caused a flood in her loins. Completely turned on, she gobbled up his dick, making him moan louder as she swallowed him all up. He caressed her head, lifting his hips up, needing to be deeper somehow. She leaned forwards, her arms stretched over the length of his muscled thighs to keep him still. With her palms splayed over his crunching abs, she proceeded to deep-throat him, her mouth meeting his pelvis, holding it there to suckle the base of his dick before dragging the tightness of her lips back up to the tip. Rinse and repeat.

“Baby girl, you gon' make me come,” Roman soon grunted, his deep voice shaken as he gripped her hair. She hummed her permission, the vibrations around his dick rippling through his big frame and tightening his balls. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. “Shit, I’m ‘bout to come for you, baby. Open your mouth.”

Jasmine obeyed, wincing a little from his steely grip holding her in place. She didn’t mind too much; the best reward was watching him jerk himself frantically in her face, his own twisting with painful pleasure as he burst all over her tongue and partly on her chin. He groaned again when she wrapped her lips back around him and sucked hard, drinking down his cum like it was her favorite beverage. When she released him, he prayed he had some left in him as he was far from done with her. He used his thumb to clean his mess off her face and stuck the digit inside her mouth, gasping as she licked it clean, her eyes on him the entire time. 

“God you’re so sexy, my little fuckin’ slut. C'mere,” he praised her, pulling her into the bed and on top of him for a deep kiss full of tongue. Jasmine rocked against him, her wetness brushing ominously against the tip of his dick. Thanks to Corbin's act of savagery, she was no longer protected and he himself didn’t have any condoms. But just as quickly as the reminder appeared, he shooed it away. They could most likely be dead before tomorrow ended. Protection was the least of their worries. He wanted to fill her up with everything he had. Tonight had to be memorable.

“Assume position, baby,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees and maneuvering behind her. 

“Yes Daddy.” She wasted little time, turning around, spreading her legs apart, teasing him with a quick twerk of her ass cheeks and earning a smack on her butt. He wasted no time either, sliding right into her, both of them moaning as he met little resistance. His hands massaged her ass as he pulled out then pushed back in, working his way into her with slow, gentle thrusts all the way to her hilt. He was so conversant with her pussy; knowing exactly where to position that dick, how to stroke the most sensitive spot inside her that maximized her pleasure; her wetness was already seeping down her thighs and onto the bed.

“Mmm, look how wet you are. You drippin’ for me, babe,” Roman smirked, watching with fascination as his dick disappeared inside her warm wetness. “That’s how you take Daddy’s dick, lemme bust that phat pussy open, baby.” 

“Oooh fuck, Roman, that feels…” 

“Shit feel good, yeah babe?” 

Temporarily robbed of all ability to speak, Jasmine could only moan out the rest of her thoughts, delirious from the feel of his heavy balls slapping her clit, his thighs bumping against hers from behind, and best of all, his big ass dick stretching her open. “Yes, Daddy, oh my god,” she whined, tears filling her eyes. He felt incredible, so sinfully good. How had she ever lived without him?

His fist was in her hair now, bringing her head up off the bed as he thrust harder. His other hand played with her breast from behind and tweaked the bud of her nipple, making him moan as her pussy contracted around him. He leaned down to nuzzle her throat, his lips ghosting over her jawline until she turned her face to him and let him claim her mouth with his. 

After a few minutes of taking her in this position, he pulled out and flipped her onto her back. Climbing on top of her, he patted his girthy dick against her softened folds before pushing back inside. His long, damp locks cascaded down his strong shoulders, framing his gorgeous features. Her hands reached up to caress his face, then gripped the back of his neck to pull his mouth to hers. He hitched her left leg under the crook of his arm and then the right, opening her up for him to pound her out. Her back arched with a moan, her pussy tightening around his thick length as he plunged deep into her over and over. Moving her legs up onto his shoulders, he went to town, feeding her with long, lavish strokes that found every sweet spot she owned. He was on a mission, almost obsessed with his need to pleasure her, to make her feel things she’d never felt before, things he'd been feeling for her since the very beginning of their relationship.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing, Jasmine.” His voice was so deep and rough in her ear and dripped with pure lust. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps sprout all over her heated skin. She didn’t know where to put her hands, switching from gripping the bed sheets to grabbing his shoulders before settling on his broad back. Her moans devolved into soft sobs as he kept up the dizzying onslaught. He brought his face closer to hers and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the warmth of her mouth. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she said, her jaw dropping as her eyes flickered to the spot where their bodies connected, watching his dick drill and grind into her like he was searching for oil. “Oh my god, Daddy, you’re fuckin' the shit outta me…”

“I keep telling you this pussy good, babe,” Roman said, licking the seam of her lips. “Wet and tight as fuck…you make me wanna come all up in it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond, not with the way he was holding her down to the bed and winding his hips, making his dick massage her spot. Her pussy rippled around him yet again and she panted heavily, her toes curling behind his head as she whined his name. Hearing his name pour from her lips and the way she moaned and cried and begged snapped something deep within Roman. He pounded her pussy harder, gazing at her with bright, lust-filled eyes, “I can tell you’re close, baby. Let it go. Come again for me,” he cajoled her.

On command, her orgasm washed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she screamed, her body convulsing beneath him from the barrage of pleasure. Ecstatic. Overwhelming. All of that and more.

Roman pulled out of her and looked on, proud of his handiwork as he watched his lover squirm and gasp beneath him, squeezing her thighs together as pleasure ravaged her entire being. Opening her legs wide again, he loomed over her, guiding his dick back inside her and pushing home. He had all the pleasure she could ever want, and he was going to give it all to her. As her back arched off the bed, he seized the chance to wrap his arms around her and hoist her upright so she was on top of him. 

“Come on, ride your Samoan stallion,” he instructed, smacking her backside in encouragement.

Recovering from her shudders, Jasmine steadied herself on top of him. With her knees up, she rested her hands on his abs and began to fuck him, dragging that pussy back and forth on his dick. She leaned down and brushed their mouths together, then sat back up to ride him a little harder. It was her turn to hold him down to the bed as her wet pussy slid up and down his cock, engulfing his length with the tightness of her walls. Looking up at her, eyes dilated, deep caramel skin glistening with sweat, full breasts bouncing and her lips parted in exertion, Roman nearly lost it right then. She had him growling and panting as she dropped down on his cock again and again and again, taking him deep. He ran his hand up her stomach and between her breasts until they closed around her throat, squeezing just enough to make her audibly bite back a moan. With his other hand, he held onto her waist, planted his feet on the bed, and raised his hips to push his dick up against her g-spot at the perfect angle to make her shiver against him.

"Unnnnhhhh..." she groaned, her thighs shaking and quaking at his sides.

"Mm-hmm, I know that's the spot right there, sweetheart. You gon' come for me. Nut on Daddy's cock, baby girl, give it to me," he whispered, grinding up into her, tightening his grasp around her throat. He was slipping inside her far too easily, yet she was still so tight. He moaned as on cue, she clenched around him, her strangled cry vibrating through them both as she gushed like a fountain all over his groin.

"Fuuuck..." Jasmine's head rocked backwards as her body shook, whimpering, her breathing raspy. The climax was so powerful that she couldn't think straight. Roman moaned and thrust upwards into her, faster, harder, drowning in the wet squelching of her tight pussy, increasing his pleasure and hers. His breaths came in ragged bursts and his muscles tensed, his toes curling as he tumbled into his own release. He emptied himself inside her, his own body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending of his.

He barely felt her soft kiss on his cheek afterwards, barely felt her hand steer his face to meet her mouth, their lips and tongues sweeping together in the tastiest, most sensual of kisses. As they moaned into each other’s mouths, his senses came alive again, luxuriating in their post-coital embrace. He was almost disappointed when she finally dismounted him, and he shuddered as her skin smoothed lazily over his, the memory of being inside her setting his skin afire. Her beautiful face was flushed with satisfaction as she stared down at her lover. 

"Damn, baby, fuck,” she moaned, smoothing out her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Roman watched her with mischief in his eyes.

“You good, baby girl?" he teased. "Didn't wear you out, did I?"

"Pfft. You know I handled that good dick, Daddy," she replied, her brown eyes still cloudy in the afterglow. She snuggled closer to him, her arm slung over his waist. "This is the real reason I ain’t never letting you go. You put it down on me so good, babe. Imma glue my pussy to your cock at this point.”

They both burst out laughing at the weird imagery before falling into a comfortable silence. When Roman spoke again, his tone was more serious. "Honestly, I can’t wait for all this running and hiding to be over," he said.

"It will be. Soon,” Jasmine promised.

Roman reached up to caress her face, gazing intently at her. "You sound so sure."

The former F.L.O.R.A agent bit her lip and nodded slowly. "We will. We’ll make it out of this. I trust you and I trust our abilities together. But for now...we need to get some sleep.”

“Do we?” 

Raising her eyebrows, she watched his hand close over her breast, kneading the round soft flesh. The lazy flicks of his fingers over her peaked, sensitive nipple made her gasp. “Ro…”

"Baby, we could be dead by tomorrow," he said, his voice deep and serious as he looked into her eyes. "Until then, I wanna spend every waking second in your arms, to be buried inside you for as long as I can until we get there. I hope you don't mind."

Jasmine felt an overwhelming surge of love and heartache at his words as she realized that indeed, this could be the last time they would be together like this. "I guess not," she finally succumbed, looking on as he rolled back on top of her, his mouth tugging her nipples in a string of wet, sloppy kisses that had her pussy aching again. At his hungry expression, she swallowed hard, growing weak for him as she felt his hardness rub against the mound of her pussy.

Pulling her thigh over his waist, he kissed her lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth as he massaged his cock between their bodies. "I love you, Jasmine. I’ll still love you long after I’m gone," he declared, his voice heavy with emotion.

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. "I love you, Roman. I love you until my last breath. I will love you even more after that," she whispered. She returned his tender kiss, feeling him grip the back of her thigh, lifting her body against him as he sank back into her warm, inviting depths…

-----------------

She sat up in bed as she watched him sleep. With tears in her eyes, she watched the way his chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and even. The sheets were draped over his hip, right below the V-shaped contour on his hip bone. His tousled hair swept over his face, and she gently raked it back, letting her fingers graze his chiseled cheek. Staring at him for one moment longer, she then shut her eyes, inhaled deeply, and chased all her emotions back into the recesses of her mind, allowing the calm ruthlessness she used to be known for to take over her entire being once again. Her features were hardened, passive, as she got up from the bed, limped over to the ceiling to floor window and made the call she'd been waiting to make since leaving Rose behind.

A female voice answered the other end of the line. "Identify."

"Four, one, three, six, eight, five, six," Jasmine answered, walking over to stand next to the glass door leading to the balcony.

A tense pause followed, then, "Your identification has been expunged from our records."

They'd erased her already. She expected that. "I have a package for the boss. For both of them. It's something they want. Urgently."

The female voice went quiet again. Several seconds passed before she spoke again. "Where would you like to make your delivery?"

"Somewhere public, covered. No clean shots."

"There may be no guarantee to that."

"I don't give a fuck, Petunia. Yeah, I know it's you. You better guarantee it, or I'll hang up and this conversation never happened." The tone of Jasmine's voice was hard, menacing. "Then you'll never see me or him again, and you know I can make that happen."

Once more, the other end of the line was silent, contemplative. "Where do you have in mind?"

She gave the coordinates and ended the call. She cast a glance towards the bed again. Roman was still asleep. She looked back out into the horizon, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in thought. The sun was rising, bleeding red. The significance was not lost on her.

------------------

We're getting closer to the end.

Credit to the owners of the gifs.

[twopoppies]

Few days ago you wrote something like you rather see H stunting with one woman and being in wannabe long term relationship than when he’s officially “single” and being connected with different woman every single week. I just want to say that evetho just like others I don’t like him stunting and don’t get why they didn’t let him be “single” for at least a year after holivia bua (just like he was after hamille) but also I remember all those wannabe groupies like that Period girl from Aus 💀 or DM spreading news how he’s “getting closer” with Candice Sweaponel or when he’s been seen with some total uknown woman and everyone was like “ARE THEY DATING?!”.

The only thing that makes me worked up are all those heteronormative articles saying how he should get married and have a babies which will be now a norm since he’s in this age when people start settle down and start families. And because the stunt is now TR, it’s her who gf harries now see as his endgame 🙄.

Yep. And when they replace her with someone else, they’ll love the next one and say she’s endgame. 🙄 It’s really best to try and ignore the stuff about his social life as much as you can. Any of us who lived through Holivia know it could be much much worse. But even low key gets annoying.

[totallynotm4e]

I just want to be back when I would Join a gc and there would be fun group themed diets and workouts like bro we did V.S,coraline,anime,and holiday themes like thanksgiving and depending on the res like Adriana Lima high res and Candice Swanepoel low res and etc I just miss it

PLEASE SOMEONE ADD ME TO A GC LIKE THAT AGAIN

[sashmarie1111]

undefined

Chad Lowe instagram Story 

https://www.instagram.com/ichadlowe/

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

The Highest Cost [Chapter Five] Glutton [David]

Warning(s): hunger, blood, desire, attraction, knives, realization, dread, mild comfort, OC.

No Minors Allowed!!

The more David thought about it, the more he realized that it could not have been the sun he saw that night on the beach. For obvious reasons, he would have immediately burned to death - the high cost of being a bloodsucker, as the ‘Vampires Everywhere’ comic book at Atlantis Fantasyworld foolishly called his kind. 

The wisps of yellow light twisting like thick smoke around Maria were not thin rays of sunlight, but some sort of aura. He could not make heads or tails of it, but in his defense, a night or two ago, he did not know legit psychics were even real. This phenomenon was new to him, as new as letting a human get close enough to him and walk away with her life.

David had his reasons, or so he told himself. Maria was…alluring. Her blood tasted like mango, the sweetest fruit he could think of, and her visions were accurate, dangerously so. If she knew about him or learned about the one who sired him, then their existence would be in jeopardy. He should have killed her, and left her body to the crabs the moment Paul brought her to his attention. But then there was that damn aura; bright and radiant. Why did he see it and no one else?

I tasted her blood.

The wicker wheelchair David declared his own gave a low squeak as he shifted, placing his leg over the armrest. Years of rust had claimed the wheels, they sometimes locked up, but he liked it a hell of a lot better than sitting on the mildew-scented floor. Raising his hand, which at the moment was gloveless - the one Maria held, the one he scratched her with - David picked beneath his nails like a starved dog searching for a scrap of food. One taste. But there was none left. He licked his fingers clean the moment her blood touched his tongue. He always had a voracious appetite, but this was too much. 

David tightened his jaw. He slid back on his glove to prevent himself from picking his nails bloody. What was the deal with Maria? If the other sired drank from her, would they–

No. 

The moment he imagined them - Marko, Paul, and Dewayne - sinking their fangs into her soft fair flesh, bleeding her dry like a stuck pig, something in him protested. It was not like him to be possessive. David often shared his toys, but Maria was not like those dull flat surfaced marbles he did not mind his ‘brothers’ borrowing and using. No. She shined. Maria was like a galaxy marble with a vortex in her center akin to the sun; he yearned to stare into it, even if it burned him to ashes. 

So he made a choice. As soon as the moon was at its highest, David left the sunken hotel and zoomed off on his chopped XT500 toward the boardwalk. If he could not find Maria there, he knew the name of the motel where she and Candice or Candy were staying - he did not bother to remember her sister’s name. It was a cheap establishment, not like the Atlantis Hotel in its glory days. A haven for zombies and broke tourists. When he took her back to the boardwalk after the incident, she let slip where she was staying and then deflected as though it were meant to be a secret. From whom he was not sure.

In the end, it didn't matter, he was not going to follow her there. An invitation wasn't needed, but even so, David had no reason to go in. If he wanted to kill her, he would do it outside. Motels were much too public, some even used cameras now. Times were not like they used to be.

The lights from the boardwalk soon came into view. David put aside his thoughts and parked his bike on the sand in the shadow of a wooden support post, then hiked up the stairs. It occurred to him late that he was flying solo tonight. His ‘brothers’ were out doing their own things as they sometimes did. He never pried and in return, neither did they. But as it always did, it felt strange to be alone. He felt like he did before he was sired, moving through life at a snail's pace. A sad man's parade. 

Even the universe gave him a wide berth as he wandered through, searching. Hunting. And then he found her. At first, David thought he saw it again, the aura twisting like thick smoke around Maria, but it was merely a trick of the light; a teasing fantasy that for a moment had him chasing ghosts. 

She stood in front of a flashing bulb, at the base of the coaster, staring up as though she was frantically searching the night sky for something. It took David a moment to realize that Maria was watching the car as it traveled around the track. Each time the bulb flashed, a halo of light surrounded her, teasing him over and over as if to say ‘A crumb, not the whole meal’. He scoffed and approached her. 

“If you want it so bad, why not ride it?”

Mia jerked in fright and diverted her eyes to David. She was not expecting to see him. His sudden appearance made her heart race and her face flush. 

“W-what?” She stuttered. 

David pointed up with a gloved finger. 

“The coaster. Do you want to ride it?”

It took her a moment to calm herself down, but once she did, Mia shook her head in protest.

“Hard no.”

Amused by her answer, David snorted. So then, why did she look so desperate as she watched the car tear down the track? 

“You sure about that?”

“I'm terrified of heights,” Mia admitted. “But my sister, she loves thrill rides; coasters, Farris wheels, the ones that send you plummeting to the ground. No thanks.”

It made sense to David why she was so hesitant to get on his bike, why she held him so tightly. Humans were, all the same, consumed by fear. His curiosity was piqued at least. She was waiting for her sister. 

“Carousels more your style, Maria?” He asked.

She frowned. The dream was still fresh in her mind; the body and the grumble of maggots. Mia curled her toes.

Not anymore. 

“Where are your friends?” She deflected. 

David grinned. She was an open book, and yet he was still intrigued. The most secret aspect of her life was her visions and she seemed intent on keeping them hidden. Others, sure, but his…there was something she did not want him to know. 

Her curiosity was ignored as Cadence walked from the exit gate with a wide grin. 

“That was bitchin’. You should have rode with me.”

“I was content watching,” Mia retorted. 

Cadence side-eyed David, then raised a curious brow. The look on her face read: ‘Are you gonna introduce me to your friend’? 

“This is uh…David,” Mia spilled. Her face heated up in embarrassment. 

She had no intention of Cadence ever meeting him, or seeing him again herself for that matter. 

“So, you're David,” Cadence stated teasingly. She ignored the glare that Mia shot.  

David merely grinned. It was entertaining that she spoke of him to her sister like a high school teenager. 

“I did not interrupt anything, did I?” Cadence asked. 

David considered telling her yes, but honestly, she didn't. Aside from Mia's fear of heights. 

“The carousel. I asked Maria if she wanted to ride it.”

Did he? Regardless, the answer was–

“That sounds like fun,” Cadence interjected. “You two should.” 

Mia shot her a look that read, ‘Are you serious’? Did she not remember the dream? The rotting, maggot-infested body? If she did, she did not seem to care. 

“Yeah. I think that would be good for you. After all, you've just let me drag you around all night. It's been your dream to ride the world-famous Santa Carla carousel.”

It hit Mia like a bucket of ice water. She knew what Cadence was trying to say. But why? Perhaps she wanted to test a theory.

“Sure…I'll go,” Mia faltered.

“I'll be in Atlantis Fantasyworld when you two are done,” Cadence mentioned. 

With a reassuring smile, she turned and walked into the crowd before Mia could interject. David found it odd, but it was not his business, whatever inner conflict the two were having. To all he knew, Mia was just a bit shy. 

Guiding her to the carousel, David did not wait for the rotation to stop. He leaped on, then turned and drew his heels together like a soldier standing in attention. 

“Are you comin’?”

Mia paled, feeling like she was about to leap into the maw of a hungry lion. It was not the action that frightened her, but the dream she had regarding the carousel. What if she got on and saw it again, slumped against the bench, amongst the riders? 

As David disappeared within, Mia had a choice to make; on or off. Into the maw of the mechanical giant, or not. She took an uneasy breath and with a short burst of courage, she leaped on. Her hip smacked the wooden tail of a black horse with a white mane, which would later no doubt leave a bruise, but she was otherwise unharmed. 

There were no visions or no bodies. She was fine. 

With a sigh of relief, Mia walked through the rows, searching for David. It should not have been hard to find him; he was of average size, nearly a head taller than her, with platinum hair. He stood out like a sore thumb. Yet, she couldn't see him. 

A hand suddenly reached out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed her by the arm. Its icy grip like the hands of death bit into her skin, then yanked her back until her calves pressed against the wooden frame of a decorative bench. Force took care of the rest. Mia toppled back and fell onto the seat with a low thud. The shock lasted but a second, and then she realized what had happened. 

He has got to stop doing that. 

David, resting with one leg crossed over the other, watched a slew of emotions cross her face. Shock, pain, realization, then fear. The latter baffled him. 

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Maria.”

He had no idea. At that moment, she saw a faceless corpse. Even the bench had the same damn black and white painted wood as in her dream. Mia felt faint. 

“I'm sorry. I want off.” 

David went against his nature and uncrossed his legs, leading her head to his thigh so she could rest. She was silent as the grave, but her body was tense.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. 

After a long spiraling moment, Mia felt a little better. She did not want to, but she figured that she had better explain herself. 

“Have you ever…dreamed about places you've never been before.”

David shifted and leaned forward.

“I can't say I have.”

“It's terrifying…like being connected to a place and yet you can't figure out why.”

She opted not to mention the recent dream.

“I've seen this town before, but until I got here I didn't know it.”

David understood a little more why Mia was so hesitant to ride the carousel. She must have dreamed about it, and whatever she saw terrified her. 

“Are they about you?” He asked. Taking a strand of her blonde hair, he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “Your dreams.” 

No. How could they be? She was not in a single one of them until recently. Mia turned a bit and peered up at David. 

“What would make you think that?”

“Because when I first met you, to see a vision, you asked me to take off my gloves. Isn't that how it works?” David explained. 

Mia hummed. As far as she knew. 

“You can't see into someone's life without a direct touch,” he furthered.

It was as if in that moment her mind became clear, as though she had come off a lifetime bender, but with it came an intense feeling of dread. Mia sat up in disbelief. 

“I'm seeing my future.” 

And in it there was death. 

The carousel jerked roughly, then came to a complete stop. David stood and waited for Mia to join him, but she was in a daze. Then like a light, the moment passed and she stood up.

“I should find Cadence.” 

She was shaken up by the realization. David wondered why. He considered walking away, returning to the cave before her human drama lured him in, but as much as he did not want to admit it, he was hooked. He felt like a stray that had found its meal ticket, a stray that followed when its human leaped from the carousel and sprinted toward the only comic book shop on the boardwalk.

A familiar scent wafting in the breeze caught his attention; the scent of cheap booze and body odor mixed with the salt of the ocean. David curled his nose in disgust. He was the first to see them, a pair of wannabe beach boys wearing grungy denim at the entrance to the shop. The brunt of their teasing was directed to none other than the eldest Ross sister. 

“What are you gonna do, Maria?”

It took her a moment to realize what David meant, and then she saw them herself. By the time she reacted, one of them had Cadence pinned against the window of the shop.

“Hey! Assholes!” Exploded Mia. 

She took off with the speed of a record-breaking sprinter and recklessly, in David's opinion, tackled the beach bum who had a hold of her sister into a rack of 10-cent comic books. Detective Comics #31 went flying and landed on the boardwalk with a sad plop. 

The second wannabe, who until now, was caught off guard by Mia’s sudden attack, pulled a stiletto switch knife with a black handle from his boot. He pressed the slide trigger forward and a 9-inch blade sprang free. The kid was wet behind the ears, most likely stole the knife from his daddy, because the moment he took it out, he was pissing himself in fear. David did not need enhanced senses to smell the pungent odor of ammonia wafting in the air.

But worse than an experienced Surf Nazi with a knife was one that did not know his ass from a hole in the ground. The kid stepped forward and let out a great roar as he swung the blade through the air like a knight swinging a greatsword. But he missed. Mia turned her eyes to him in shock and before David could grab him, the kid swung again. The second time, Mia lifted her arm and the blade slashed deep into her forearm. Rivulets of blood splattered across the protective sleeve of Superman #146.

With strength he did not mean to display, David yanked the kid's arm back so hard, that his shoulder dislocated with a loud pop. He wailed in pain like an old street cat, then released the switch knife. David caught it before it hit the ground; the edge of the blade was stained red. 

These are illegal.

Had been since 1958.

Based on the crowd of people gathering, David retracted the blade into the handle and shoved it into his coat pocket. If Big Ed, the security guard caught him with it, he'd call the police. He had no love for David, or his ‘brothers’; not after all the trouble they caused him over the years. Hell, if he caught David at all on the boardwalk, he'd smack him with that wooden nightstick he wore attached to his side. He already warned him once that he was banned. 

The beach boys had the right idea. They tucked tail and ran like dogs the moment Edgar Frog, one of two eccentric brothers who ran the Atlantis Fantasyworld comic book shop came out to assess the damage done. It was odd not to see his lanky brother, Alan trailing behind him, most likely dragging Big Ed from his booth.

David tightened his jaw and squatted beside Mia. Her sister gave him a brief look of relief, then stood to explain the situation to Edgar. She oddly kept a wide berth from her sister, which intrigued him.

“That's gonna need stitches.”

“Hurts like hell,” Mia disclosed. 

Blood oozed from the cut and down her arm as if it were teasing him. ‘Look, but don't you dare touch’. His stomach twisted in pain. He needed to feed. 

“I need to split,” David mentioned. “The security guard and I have a past.”

“Take me with you,” Mia pouted. 

She disliked hospitals. Not to mention, David was right, she needed stitches. 

“You can't go where I'm going,” he drawled.

Mia snorted. “Maybe next time.”

Next time. Did she want to see him again? There was no denying the magnetism. She sort of liked talking with David. He cleared her head, though perhaps it was the blood loss. 

David grinned. He did not want to humor her, but even he was sure there would be a next time. Standing, he disappeared into the crowd just as Big Ed's fetid smell flooded his nostrils. 

At a distance from the attention-seeking onlookers, he grabbed onto the steel post of a street lamp and leaped onto the boardwalk railing that overlooked the ocean. David fished out the switch knife and pressed the slide trigger to release the stained blade. Her blood was dry, but regardless, he ran his tongue over the cold steel to taste it. 

An intense euphoric sensation overcame him and his eyes fluttered closed. What made her blood so unique? He almost wanted to starve himself until he was able to take his fill; a glutton for punishment. 

When at last he looked, searching with predatory eyes, David was pleased to see the aura of his meal ticket within the crowd. He was content with being a poor lost stray, just for a chance to gorge himself. What he didn't know though, was the next time he tasted her blood, it would be because she offered herself to him.

[kafus]

okay so about that funny candice gym battle

i was looking at my team and considering my game plan into candice and i realized that i could solo her entire team with my clefable. Waffle, my clefable, is running fire blast/focus blast/moonlight/cosmic power, with zoom lens. i didn't INTEND for this to be a candice counter in particular, fire/fighting just patched up some big coverage holes in my team and i thought using zoom lens in a casual playthrough was objectively funny.

but candice leads with her relatively underpowered sneasel, which means i could just… stack 6 cosmic powers to max out my defense and special defense, moonlight off the damage, and then start launching super effective fire blasts and focus blasts at her pokemon until they were burned into the ground LOL. waffle is even male, so the sneasel got easily infatuated with cute charm, causing it to do even less damage to him as i set up. and it worked, i was able to solo with waffle even though he was level 42 at the start of the battle, not overleveled at all (candice has pokemon in the low 40s, her ace froslass is level 44)

of course since fire blast and focus blast are not STAB moves on clefable, and its special attack is good but not AMAZING or anything, a couple of her pokemon took two hits to defeat (though it was close to a 1 hit on both!). sneasel was a 1 hit with focus blast and the following abomasnow was a 1 hit with fire blast, but after that her froslass (which she sent out before the piloswine for some reason) was a 2 hit with fire blast and her piloswine was a 2 hit with either move.

the zoom lens enabled me to hit fire blast twice despite snow cloak in the hail + a single use of double team making froslass' evasion Really High, i actually only missed it once - and piloswine wasn't an issue at all, though the last turn of the battle was incredibly funny since piloswine landed an earthquake crit which KO'd my clefable that was already low from hail and blizzard chip, but the last remaining fire blast i had used that turn got the burn on piloswine, which happened to knock it out at the end of the same turn. i wasn't expecting this to happen and i scrambled to get my phone to take a pic of the defeat dialogue as usual but i was late and only got the money screen. however it's funny because uh

well there's no pokemon on my side of the field LMAO BC WAFFLE FAINTED

anyway everyone be really proud of Waffle for succeeding at one of the funniest candice battles of all time

[eelhound]

"Part of the job of the left is to raise people’s expectations for what they deserve, to make it clear to them that as a person with dignity and worth, in a world of abundance, they are entitled to have a good life and have their basic needs met. We can end low wages, medical debt, student debt, and so much more — and we must. Those who stand in the way of making our lives better need to be called out for imposing intolerable conditions. The climate crisis is a policy choice. Poverty is a policy choice. Homelessness is a policy choice. The question is not whether these problems can be fixed, but what our values are: which do we care more about, corporate profits or the lives of people like Candice Davis [a teacher who works at Starbucks for no salary just to cover her medical expenses]? We can structure an economic system in a way that prioritizes the former over the latter, or vice versa, and it has nothing to do with the limits of the 'possible.' It is simply about what those with the power to alter these conditions decide they care about.

It is vital to keep reminding people that we are not hopeless, and our conditions can be changed (and changed quickly, as the rapid spread of the Fight for 15 movement shows). Things don’t have to be this way. A better world is possible."

- Nathan J. Robinson, from "Say It With Me: Things Don’t Have To Be This Way." Current Affairs, 25 January 2023.