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[tipsandtricksforlife28]

Maa Laxmi WhatsApp status video Friday special status Latest Mahalaxmi S...

[linesonscreens]

Let's Read Peanuts (Sponsored by “Snicker-Snacks”) – July 1957

There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.

July 2, 1957

Married? I legitimately can't remember a single interaction between them.

July 3, 1957

I really like this one because it's so rare that we get to see Charlie Brown and Lucy just doing friend stuff without one dunking on the other. It gives you a bit of insight into why they bother to spent time together.

July 9, 1957

Well they’re…

Um…

Hold on a moment...

~Googles~ 

They’re this part of a barrel, apparently.

Also while looking that up I also found this video on how barrels are made. 

Neat!

July 11, 1957

An interesting strip considering “getting called into the army” literally happened to Schulz.

July 16, 1957

The things Charlie Brown has seen will haunt him for decades.

July 26, 1957

I like Shermy’s shirt. It really gives you the impression that he has a personality of some kind.

July 28, 1957

New blog header image found!

Lookit how mad he is! :3

Thoughts

I don't ~want~ to dunk on Shermy. I actually feel kind of bad about doing it considering the way he gets unceremoniously sidelined into oblivion. But god damnit kid, get a hobby or something. Literally anything will do.

Here, I'll give you this stapler. You're the stapler kid now. You're welcome.

[aggressionbread]

these things were like the joy of ordering stuff online before ordering stuff online was really a thing

[ch33z3grits]

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (bondage, p in v, dacryphilia if you squint, DDLG, edging, breath play, female masturbation), graphic violence (description of murder), domestic violence (verbal abuse, physical abuse), possessiveness/obsessiveness, mentions of blood, HEAVY angst

word count: 10,723

a/n: hi!! so sorry for the late submission this week, I should be back on track to post on Fridays going forward. TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter will have scenes of graphic violence and domestic violence. I will put asterisks (*) at the beginning and end of scenes that some may find disturbing. Summaries of those scenes will be available at the end of the chapter for those who choose to skip.

a/n pt. 2: idk, I'm over writing summaries at the beginning of the chapters. but if y'all prefer them, please let me know! Enjoy :)

Camille's song: Baby Boy-Beyonce ft. Sean Paul | Terry's song: House of Balloons/Glass Table Girls-The Weeknd

Pt. Six

Camille

Camille’s breath hitched as she stood frozen in the doorway. She had walked into her office and found herself utterly speechless. Even though he was out of the office today, Terry had called her moments ago.

“I know it's not one of our rotation days,” Terry had said, a playful note in his tone, “but I want you to stop by your office when you get the chance today.”

Confused, she had furrowed her brow. “Is there something you need me to do?” she had asked, curiosity tinged with a hint of concern.

Terry had laughed softly on the other end, the sound making her lean into the phone even more with a soft smile. “No ma’am, just a little surprise I want you to see.”

He hadn’t given her the chance to question him further, quickly ending the call and leaving her with nothing but anticipation that pulled her toward her office.

And now, she stood there, admiring the unexpected surprise. Her private space had been transformed.

Baby blue and gold balloons floated lazily in the air, some of them bouncing gently against the walls while others hung from the ceiling like clouds. Streamers in similar shades cascaded from every corner. On her desk were four cupcakes, each one delicately frosted, their sugary beauty making them almost too perfect to touch. Next to them, a vibrant bouquet of lilies stood proudly, further adding to the thoughtfulness behind it all.

But what really stopped her was the gold banner draped behind her desk, its letters spelling out Happy Birthday in elegant, bold font. It wasn’t just the decorations or the carefully placed gifts that left her breathless, it was the fact that she felt so seen. It was the thought of someone so special to her, going out of their way to make her feel appreciated.

That morning had begun with an unwelcome jolt from sleep, courtesy of a relentlessly eager Aston. His excitement was palpable, as though he couldn’t wait to see the look on her face, and he made sure he was there to witness it firsthand. Gifts were carefully arranged at the foot of their bed. A dozen shopping bags, each one bearing the logos of high-end brands, lined up like trophies.

She had sat up, trying to mask her grogginess, her eyes scanning the luxury items. Aston had a certain smug satisfaction in his demeanor, as if he expected her to be overwhelmed with gratitude at the sight of the designer items he had chosen for her. Each bags’ contents were extravagant. A sleek black Chanel bag. A pair of pristine white Louboutin heels. Three carefully selected Ralph Lauren dresses. A collection of luxury perfumes and elegant sunglasses followed, each one a symbol of exclusivity. And a delicate lingerie set from a French brand she’d never heard of. It was exquisite, but in a way that felt more about display than desire.

All of it was beautiful. But as Camille lifted each item from its bag, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Each piece was a status symbol. Something to show the world that she was with a man who could lavish her with items meant to impress others. None of them reflected her own tastes. Aston looked down on her love for brands like Le Labo, Aesop, or Anthropologie, so they were never included in his gift-giving. The gifts he showered her with always had his preferences written all over them, as if to remind her, and everyone else, that she existed to be a trophy. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful or bratty. He had worked hard to buy her these things. But the nagging disappointment lingered. She just wished, for once, that he would see the real her when he picked out something for her.

Despite the early rise and the hollow feeling the gifts left behind, Camille’s day brightened from the messages that came through later in the morning. Sweet voice notes from her siblings and heartfelt texts from her mother warmed her heart. Their words were a comfort, a reminder that she was loved. She smiled as she read each message. The thought of the distance between them did feel bittersweet, however.

And although Kali promised to treat her to dinner, she couldn’t make time for that evening due to her late night shift at the NICU. And Aston, absorbed in a pro bono case that had consumed much of his time lately, would be working late as well. Thursday nights had ran over later than usual, and though he insisted it was important, Camille couldn’t help but feel like there was more behind it. But she refused to dwell on it too long. Instead, she accepted the loneliness she believed she would feel for the rest of her 30th birthday. But as she walked through her office at that moment, she felt comforted by the presence of someone who she loved. 

Ever since her fainting spell a few weeks ago, something inside Camille had shifted, and she allowed herself to face the truth. The feelings she tried to ignore, the emotions she brushed aside, had risen to the surface. She was in love with Terry.

There was an almost magnetic pull toward him, one that she couldn’t seem to escape. Every time he entered a room, her eyes followed him. When he spoke, his words seemed to drown out everything else and held her attention like no one else’s. And when his penetrating gaze met hers, her heart would stumble, then race, and then stumble again.

She had no intentions of pursuing these feelings. She knew better. On her end, there was too much at stake, too many layers of complication already woven into her life. Her loyalty to Aston and her commitment to her relationship was unshakeable. On Terry’s end, she understood he could have anyone he wanted. While her boss was sweet and humble beyond words, she could see that he was extremely influential in Houston, maybe in the country.

His accolades and clients demonstrated that the world was practically at his feet. Someone like that wouldn’t settle for her. He probably had dozens of high value women throwing themselves at him. She didn’t stand a chance. So, Camille had come to terms with the fact that her heart belonged to someone she could never have, and she accepted that with a strange mixture of pain and peace.

But there was something freeing about being honest with herself. A clarity that allowed her to focus on her professionalism with even more intention. She could acknowledge her feelings without acting on them, without letting them cloud her judgment. And for the first time, she understood how much she had been missing: the raw, aching beauty of love, the kind that made her feel giddy and alive in ways she hadn’t felt in years. In a way, her love for Terry had become a quiet treat, a secret pleasure that she could hold onto, one that gave her the space to feel without any expectations of reciprocity.

It also gave her the opportunity to savor the moment before her life became completely consumed by being Mrs. Aston McCoy. She couldn’t ignore the growing distance between her and Aston, a gap that seemed to widen with each passing year. The passion they once had was a distant memory, and Camille knew they would never find their way back to it. Because of that, she didn’t judge herself for the love she carried for Terry. And she could bear it because, deep down, she knew it wouldn’t last. Terry would be out of her life in less than a year, and after that, she would return to her world with Aston, for better or worse.

For now, though, she allowed herself this one thing, this secret love. It was a fleeting moment, a brief chapter in the book of her life, but it was enough to make her feel something real again. And that was something she would cherish.

She began to approach her desk, her fingers reaching for the gold envelope wedged between the cupcakes and flowers, her name scribbled across. But just as she picked it up, the clack of heels approaching caught her attention. 

“Wow,” a snarky voice rang out from behind her. Camille immediately closed her eyes, recognizing the voice with a sinking feeling in her chest. She let out a quiet sigh before turning on her heel, forcing herself to face Stephanie. The other woman leaned against the doorway of her office, her gaze sweeping over the room with open disdain. “How sweet of Terry to celebrate you so… impressively. Even in his absence.”

Camille’s jaw tightened, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek, unsure of how to respond. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, but she kept them still, willing herself not to react.

Stephanie’s eyes finally settled on her, a knowing gleam in them as she crossed her arms. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought he was your fiancé, not Aston.”

A sudden wave of dread washed over Camille.

“Excuse me,” Camille managed to say, her voice tight, anxiety curling in her chest. Stephanie simply narrowed her eyes and crossed the room, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps.

“I don’t know what kind of hold you have over him,” Stephanie said, her voice lowering, dripping with malice, “but you should probably stop being so friendly with Terry. You wouldn’t want your colleagues to start assuming you’re... fraternizing.”

Camille swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry and her pulse pounding in her ears. She held Stephanie’s gaze, forcing herself to stay calm. “And why would my colleagues ever come to that conclusion?”

Stephanie's lips curled into a wicked smile. “Who knows? Someone might start spreading rumors,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “Suggestions about exchanged looks, late nights in the office, or other behaviors that border inappropriate. And then that someone would let other people’s imaginations wander.”

Stephanie’s smile never wavered as she stepped even closer. “You wouldn’t want that, would you? I mean, Terry’s reputation would go unscathed, sure. But you? You would lose your job. Maybe even Aston too.”

Camille stiffened in response. Her mind raced, desperate to find a counter-threat that would shake Stephanie’s confidence, but nothing came to her. She forced a calmness into her voice, her gaze unwavering. “And what would I have to do to keep that someone satisfied?”

Stephanie’s smile stretched, turning into a triumphant smirk. “Simple,” Stephanie purred, leaning in just slightly. “Just keep Terry at arm's length. Make him feel that whatever this little budding friendship you two have is nothing to you. His investment in you takes away his attention from much more important people in his life.”

Camille snorted, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She can’t be serious right now, Camille thought, the disbelief simmering just beneath the surface.

“And who would those people be?” she asked coolly, her voice smooth, despite her inner turmoil.

Stephanie blinked at her. Then, in an almost mocking tone, she replied, “His girlfriend, silly. Who else would that someone be?”

Camille’s heart skipped a beat, her blood running cold. Stephanie was Terry’s girlfriend? Aston had been right all along? Stephanie’s smile widened, a cruel glint in her eyes. Without another word, she turned on her heel to leave, but then paused, glancing back over her shoulder with a look that sent a shiver down Camille’s spine.

“Remember,” she said, the sweet professionalism dropping away, replaced with something far more venomous, “someone is always watching.”

Then, with a smirk, she reached out, her sharp nail slicing through the air to puncture the nearest balloon. The sudden pop made Camille jump, the silence following suffocating.

As Stephanie walked out of the door, Camille stayed in place, her mind reeling from the encounter. She had to find a way to protect herself from Stephanie’s threats, because she knew that no matter how hard she tried, Stephanie would never be satisfied. 

So for the rest of the work day, she hid in Aston’s office, wondering how to keep her job and engagement safe from Stephanie’s claws.

Aston's Song: Money Trees-Kendrick Lamar

Aston

Aston sat at the lavish poker table in the center of Terry’s grand penthouse apartment, excitement and envy swelling in his chest. For the past three Thursdays, he'd been making his way to Terry Richmond’s apartment, hoping to try his luck at poker. And his attempts have been nothing but fruitful so far. Each time, he walked away with more money than he made in a year. Bigger winnings than he thought possible, big enough to keep him coming back for more. And God knows he needed to keep coming back.

Aston McCoy, one of the heirs to the McCoy oil fortune, was living on the edge of financial irrelevance. He wasn’t poor like the average middle-class American. But among the elite circles he moved in, he was a charity case. And it was all because his father, the great Texas oil giant, couldn’t let go of his conservative values for one minute. Or his need to expand his wealth through marital agreements. 

To access the full $10 million of his inheritance, Aston had a contractual agreement with his father. He had to marry the daughter of whichever business partner he deemed to be the most advantageous. For the first 19 years of Aston’s life, he moved through life unconcerned with an arranged marriage. He was wild, spent money without a care in the world, and felt that his status was secured. But that all changed when his father struck a deal with Colin DeWaterson Sr. The tacky businessman turned refinery owner was desperate to attach himself to an established oil family. So desperate, he had practically sold his soul, and his daughter’s soul, to guarantee such a union.

He had fallen deep into debt with the McCoy family. And the only thing that would satisfy that debt was a marriage that joined the families together. So, at the tender ages of 19 and 17, Aston and Camille were groomed to become husband and wife.

Aston didn't have any particular objections to Camille. She was attractive, intelligent, well-mannered, and came from a respectable family. Everything on paper suggested they’d be a good match. But she failed to elicit any real love from him. He was still young, wealthy, and determined to enjoy life on his own terms. Throughout the early months of their relationship, Aston continued to sleep with other women, assuming that Camille, being just as aware of the nature of their arrangement, would do the same.

However, about eight or nine months into their relationship, Camille discovered his infidelity. The blow was devastating for her, and Aston finally realized that, unlike him, she had been taking their engagement seriously all along. What followed was even more disastrous for Aston: Camille ended their relationship. His father, furious that Aston had jeopardized such a valuable business deal, reacted swiftly and harshly, cutting him off financially.

Gone were the carefree weekends spent partying with his frat brothers. He was evicted from his lavish off-campus housing and his prized sports car was repossessed. Aston was left to scrape by on his own, but he wasn’t ready to give up the lifestyle to which he’d grown accustomed. For months, he begged Camille to take him back, apologizing profusely, but she remained firm, refusing to forgive him.

It wasn’t until three months later, after his father had personally intervened and approached DeWaterson again to smooth things over, that Camille reluctantly agreed to reconcile with him. However, the terms had changed. Aston no longer had the limitless financial freedom he once enjoyed. His father, ashamed of his reckless behavior, set stricter boundaries on his access to his inheritance, and Aston found himself learning the hard way that his wealth was no longer a guarantee, but a privilege to be earned.

The McCoy estate was worth over $90 million, but Aston was left with a measly $300,000 in liquid cash. An amount that would seem like a fortune to most, but was barely enough to keep him afloat in the high-stakes world he dabbled in. To his peers, the money he had was insignificant. It wasn’t nearly enough to maintain the lavish lifestyle he needed to keep up appearances, to keep his friends interested in him. It wasn’t enough to avoid being seen as a loser.

And that was why the poker games, with their promise of quick cash, felt like a godsend. And he didn’t care if he had to swindle some random black guys out of their money. It probably came from selling drugs or fighting pitbulls anyway. It didn’t matter. The kind of money they had, Aston thought, deserved to be in the hands of someone more respectable. Someone who knew how to actually benefit society.

But even as Aston looked forward to those Thursday nights, the thrill of the game, the rush of winning, there was always a bitterness that lingered. A sharp sting in his chest that he couldn’t ignore.

Terry’s lifestyle reminded him of everything he didn’t have. Everything that was always just out of reach.

Terry lived in one of the most expensive and exclusive complexes in the city. The kind of place most people could only dream of. A sleek, modern building with underground parking, a 24-hour doorman, and a concierge who could cater to every whim. But it was Terry’s penthouse that really struck a chord with Aston. Aston could still picture the first time he stepped inside. The crisp, woody scent, the marble floors, the gleaming surfaces. A housekeeper had greeted him at the door, offering a glass of whiskey with a polite smile, taking his coat with practiced hands.

Aston had stepped further inside, the grandeur nearly knocking him off his feet. His eyes had been wide with awe as he took in the soaring ceilings, at least twenty feet high, the opulent space stretching out in all directions. Massive windows stretched the length of the walls, allowing the city’s skyline to pour into the room, like an endless sea of lights and steel. Every corner of the penthouse screamed wealth, sophistication, and power. It was the kind of place people worked their entire lives to get, and still, most would never achieve.

For a brief moment, standing there in that extravagant space, Aston had felt like an outsider. The kind of outsider who might never be able to belong in that world again. And that alienation made Aston’s blood boil, on top of other things.

Terry was a constant annoyance, one that he couldn’t escape, even when he wasn’t around. It wasn’t just the work he did or the cases he handled so flawlessly, it was the way everyone around him adored him. His fellow associates couldn’t praise him enough. Conversations about Terry seemed to seep into every corner of the office. In the break room, in the firm’s kitchen, even in the elevator, it was the same. His colleagues gushed about how incredible Terry was, how lucky the firm was to have him. Everywhere Aston turned, someone had their head up Terry’s ass. And Aston couldn’t shake the feeling that Camille was softening toward him, too.

Aston could sense it, the subtle shift in her demeanor when Terry was around. She was never the same since she found out about his infidelity, Aston knew that. He knew that she would never trust him like she once did, and she definitely wouldn’t love him again. He had come to terms with that, especially since he didn’t love her either. But seeing her respond to Terry with such warmth, with such a quiet affection... it made him jealous. It bruised his pride in ways he hadn’t expected. His ego, already a fragile thing, felt the sting of it every time she looked at Terry like that, her attention completely consumed by him.

But the real sting, the one that gnawed at Aston every day, was seeing how Stephanie fawned over Terry. Stephanie was the most beautiful woman Aston had ever laid eyes on. Her thick, crimson-red hair framed her face like a fiery halo, and her emerald-green eyes held a depth that always seemed to pull him in. Her skin was always kissed by the sun, like she spent every day at the beach. She wasn’t just attractive, she was gorgeous. And she knew it.

Every step she took exuded confidence, and it was as if she knew every pair of eyes in the room was following her. Even though she was just a secretary at Watkins and Grant, she commanded the room in a way that few others could. All the men, including Aston, were tripping over themselves to earn just a moment of her attention. But she didn’t care. She played with them like toys, tossing them aside when they didn’t meet her expectations, moving on to the next.

Aston had spent months trying to win her attention, just to end up frustrated and empty-handed. He tried to be what she wanted, but it was never enough. She had seemed intrigued at first, but when he failed to meet her material demands, her interest quickly disappeared. She moved on as if he were nothing more than another passing distraction. At the time, he’d been disappointed, but now, in retrospect, he couldn’t help but think that maybe it was for the best. Camille might have noticed if things had gone further. 

But what truly hurt was watching Stephanie latch onto Terry like a moth to a flame. The way she practically devoured him with her eyes every time he walked into the room, the way she was always the first to offer help, to show interest. And Terry? He didn’t even seem to notice. He was indifferent to her, completely unaware of the power he held over her. It was the ultimate insult, and Aston could do nothing but watch as Stephanie melted under Terry's indifference, while he couldn’t even keep her attention without buying her expensive bags and shoes. 

So, Austin approached the poker table with one goal: to take everything he could from Terry and his friends. Make them feel as small as he felt.

He glanced around the table, smirking to himself as he took note of the faces he’d become familiar with the past few games. There was Terry of course, glancing at his cards without a care in the world, as if he hadn’t lost over $200,000 in the last two games. Then there was his doctor friend, Elijah, who was always light and jovial despite also losing a substantial amount of money. The other four looked much more stressed, which made sense. They didn’t have affluent jobs like the others. Jabari and Tariq said they were club bouncers, Devon was a firefighter, and Ray worked at an Amazon warehouse. But, to have the funds to participate in the games, Aston was sure that they were involved in something illegal. 

But Aston couldn’t care about that right now. He was winning, he could feel it. The night’s been his, every hand, every bluff, every raise. He’d been untouchable. One more hand, one more victory, and he would walk away with enough money to scale back on his cases at the firm. So he bet everything on this last hand. Everything in his bank account and the $820,000 he got from the past two Thursdays and the previous hands. Once he won, he would be able to go home and do something nice for Camille. It was her birthday after all.

He stared at the cards, the flush staring back at him with promise. Everyone else was nervous and sweating or completely indifferent, but he could see it in their eyes. They knew it was over. And Aston felt invincible.

The cards turned. Aston didn’t even bother to look, immediately dragging all of the chips on the table toward him. Until Terry cleared his throat. Aston’s head snapped towards him, confused. Terry just gave him a light smile, nodding to his cards. Aston followed his glance. His heart dropped to his ass as he looked at the cards. A royal flush.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

No, this couldn’t be happening! 

Aston’s gaze snapped back to Terry, his mind racing in disbelief. His chest tightened as he tried to process what had just happened. Terry’s face was unreadable, but the grins that spread across the other players’ faces couldn’t have been more telling. It was as if they had all conspired in some quiet, shared joke that he was the last one to catch onto.

Aston’s lips twitched into a chuckle, but it came out more nervous than amused. He scanned the table, taking in the wide smiles and knowing glances. An anxious snort escaped his nose, his irritation bubbling up as he forced another laugh, trying to play it off. “Alright, guys. Nice try,” he said, his voice tight. “I’ve been winning every game, but now, all of a sudden, I lose when I bet everything?” He scooped up the chips as though he could brush away the growing tension.

But as his fingers closed around the chips, Jabari, who sat to his right, placed a firm hand over his. It was a subtle gesture, almost casual, but it was enough to send a jolt of annoyance through Aston. Jabari’s touch was a quiet warning, one that didn’t sit well with him.

Aston’s glare locked onto him, his brow furrowing. “Seriously, this is too much money to joke about,” he spat, his voice a mixture of frustration and confusion. “I know you cheated to get a cheap laugh, but it's not funny anymore.”

His words fell flat in the charged air. Aston leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking from face to face, searching for some sign that this was just a game, a joke he was missing. But all he saw were those same smug smiles.

“Aston,” Terry called out, bringing Aston’s attention back to him. His strangely colored eyes flickered with something Aston couldn’t comprehend. “You lost. That’s all there is to it.” Aston began to vigorously shake his head. There’s no way he lost. They had to have rigged it somehow, he thought to himself, growing more agitated by the second.

“No…there’s no way. I’ve been winning every hand since I joined. Every. Single. Fucking. One!,” Aston shot back. Terry’s eyebrow raised, but Aston continued to rant. “You sons of bitches might have done something to the deck, but I didn’t fucking lose!”

Jabari leaned a bit closer to him. “Aye man, there’s no need to get loud. Just accept the loss and move the fuck on–” 

Aston jumped from his seat, unable to contain his anger any longer. “This is bullshit!” He yelled as he looked at everyone around the table. But he didn’t like the reactions he saw. No one looked the least bit surprised by his outburst. Gone was the indifference in Terry and Elijah. Gone was the nervousness in the others. Instead, they just looked at him with a strange mix of amusement and irritation.

“Aston, this little tantrum is entertaining and all. But just go ahead and accept the loss so we can all go home,” Terry said softly. The others remained eerily quiet, but Aston couldn’t give a fuck. He was not about to give everything to his name to Terry and his friends of all fucking people.

“Fuck you, Terry!” He shouted, throwing on his jacket. “I didn’t fucking lose. You all are just fucking cheaters. And I’m not going to pay any of you shit. I’m not going to be fucking hustled!” He continued to yell. Terry’s relaxed demeanor disappeared as everyone else at the table stood, chuckling as they walked away from the table. Aston watched as they stood in different corners or the exit, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. He warily looked back to Terry.

“You really think I’m gonna let you walk out of here? And you owe me over $800,000?” Terry scoffed. Aston stared at him for a moment, sweat beginning to collect by his hairline. I need to get out of here, he thought as he resumed collecting his stuff. 

“If you think I’m afraid of you, think again Terry. At the end of the day, you’re probably nothing but some shady drug dealer. And I’ll gladly report this to the police,” Aston scoffed, pulling out his phone, ready to call 911. Terry’s loud laugh cut through the air, sending a chill down his spine.

Just as Aston’s fingers pressed ‘9,’  a cloth bag was thrown over his head from behind him. Blinded and disoriented, he dropped his phone as he clawed at the scratchy fabric blocking his sight. But he only struggled for a moment. A sharp, heavy blow to the back of his head sent a burst of pain through his head as he crumpled to the floor and everything went black.

Aston woke up, his head feeling as though it had been split open and his mouth tasted metallic. He blinked, wincing at the sharp pain at the back of his head, trying to process his surroundings. He realized he was in the trunk of a car, arms, hands, and legs bound and his mouth gagged. Panic consumed him as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness of the small space. He had no idea how long he had been in there and no sense of when the car would stop. He groaned, leaning his head against whatever surface he could. But he immediately regretted it after as the car rolled over something like a pothole, sending his head slamming into the rough of the trunk.

Stars moved behind his eyes, artificially lighting up the dark space. Before he could even blink them away, the car braked suddenly, making the car come to a stop. His panic spiked, waiting for any sign of movement. 

The trunk of the car popped open, bringing in a rush of light. The brightness magnified the splitting pain of his head, making him whimper and shut his eyes. A pair of hands grabbed him from the trunk with unnatural ease before dropping him on the pavement below. His pained “fuck” was muffled by the rag in his mouth. He was grabbed once more, the mysterious figure carrying him effortlessly, as if he was a piece of luggage. They walked into a warehouse of some sort, which seemed to be in a deserted area.

No one would hear me scream, he thought, his heart dropping. No one would even know I’m here.

He was dropped once again, but this time, he was at the feet of a large figure. He craned his neck to get a good look at them. 

It was Terry, an unamused look on his face, menacing beyond words. Aston shrank from his gaze, moving his eyes to the person who brought him inside. Jabari stood silently from a short distance, his arms crossed. The other poker players didn’t seem to be present. But as he laid at his feet, Aston understood that Terry was running the show. Jabari was just reinforcement.

His attention returned to Terry as he used his booted foot to push him onto his back. He crouched down, pulling the rag from his mouth, his expression never faltering. Aston gasped, the absence of the rage making him notice how dry his mouth was. He winced as he flexed his mouth, dried blood at the corners of his lips cracking the skin.

I need to find a way out of this, he thought, refusing to meet Terry’s eyes. I can get an emergency loan from dad, agree to pay it off within the year. Yeah, I can–

“Fucking look at me,” Terry breathed over him, his tone way too calm for his liking. Aston froze, his gaze snapping to Terry’s, but the moment he locked eyes with him, he instinctively recoiled, pulling his head back as his breath caught in his throat. Yes, it was Terry, but not the Terry he knew. This Terry was something else, something unrecognizable.

Terry’s eyes were now a deep, menacing red, dark and rich like fresh blood. Aston’s pulse quickened, his senses screaming that something was wrong, that this wasn’t just a shift in appearance, but something far darker. Terry’s lips pulled back in a cruel sneer, revealing canines that had lengthened beyond what was natural. The sharp tips of his teeth jutted out menacingly, almost piercing the skin of his bottom lip. This wasn't just Terry, it was a version of him that was far more monstrous and it gripped Aston’s very soul.

“Terry, what… what–” he stammered as the eyes watched him with a predatory glint. “Look, I’ll get you your money by tonight. No explanation needed. W-we can discuss this like gentlemen.” 

Terry just smiled, leaning back as he shook his head. Suddenly, subtle pleas and cries began to approach them from behind. Aston went to roll to face the direction where the sound was coming from. He was stopped by Terry placing a heavy foot on him, keeping him on his back.

The cries grew louder, amplifying Aston’s terror. He was sure that he would have a heart attack the way his chest thundered.

“Terrence, please. I didn’t mean to run them off! I know Crimson has a reputation to uphold, but those girls just got a bit spooked. I just got a little excited!” An unfamiliar voice filled the space next to Aston. His eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to make sense of the words the new voice was saying. 

Without lifting his foot from Aston’s chest, Terry grabbed a stammering man who must’ve been brought in by Jabari. He draped an arm around him as he made him stand in front of Aston. Tears and snot poured down the man’s face, his distress making Aston’s stomach twist even more.

*

“Aston, this is Cole. Cole is going to help me demonstrate what I do to people who fuck with my money,” Terry spoke calmly as he gripped the back of the man’s neck. 

Terry’s hand twitched unnaturally, and in an instant, his nails began to elongate, sharpening into jagged claws before Aston’s very eyes. They gleamed with a menacing sharpness that made Aston’s blood run cold. He tried to twist away, desperate to escape the horror unfolding before him, but Terry’s foot remained planted firmly in place, an immovable force keeping Aston exactly where he was. The pressure of it anchored him down, making it impossible to break free.

Terry’s gaze flickered back to Cole, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. Then, in a blur, his other clawed hand wrapped around the front of the man’s neck, squeezing it dangerously hard. Then, with a flourish, Terry yanked his hand, effectively tearing the man’s throat out. Aston let out a blood curdling scream as blood and tissue splattered onto his face and chest, the sounds of flesh ripping echoing in his mind. Terry remained unphased as he dropped the man’s flailing body next to Aston, pressing his boot further into his chest, forcing him to shut up. Disgust and horror made Aston turn his head, spitting up everything that was in his stomach. He trembled as he turned back to Terry, who brought himself closer to his face, his red eyes seeming to darken. He wiped the bloodied hand he used to kill Cole on the jacket Aston was wearing, making him flinch.

*

The warehouse was unnervingly silent, the only sound being Aston’s ragged sobs that echoed off the cold concrete walls. The sound of his anguish reverberated through the space, but Terry stood unfazed, a deep, resigned sigh escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes.

His once haunting, blood-red gaze slowly shifted to the unnatural blue-green they usually were. His nails began to retract and shrink back into their human form. And his fangs that protruded like daggers, shrank back into his gums. It was almost like watching an illusion dissolve.

Terry’s gaze lingered on Aston, his expression a mix of indifference and distaste. The fearsome being now looked… ordinary.

Aston’s sobs grew more frantic, his chest heaving with each shaky breath as he squeezed his eyes shut. There was no escaping this. He wasn’t getting out of this alive. His thoughts spiraled, each one more hopeless than the last.

Though he wasn’t particularly religious, Aston found himself murmuring a silent prayer, his voice barely more than a whisper. It wasn’t for salvation, it was a plea for mercy. He whispered to no one in particular, hoping that Terry would be merciful, that whatever came next would be quick and final. Aston swallowed hard, his body trembling, as he waited for the inevitable, hoping against hope that it would come swiftly.

Terry began to mockingly shush him, lifting his foot from his chest and moving to crouch down next to him, gripping Aston’s face in his cleaner hand, carefully avoiding the residual puke on his chin. 

“Now… I think you finally understand who you’re dealing with, right?” Terry's voice was a low, ominous murmur, his piercing gaze fixed on Aston with unnerving intensity.

Aston nodded frantically, desperate to avoid Terry’s gaze. Terry’s lips curled into a satisfied hum. He tilted his head slightly, his expression of pure, cold detachment being replaced by a small, unnerving smile.

“Good,” Terry purred, his voice dripping with malice. His next words seethed out with barely contained fury. “Because I want my fucking money.” Terry leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing as he spoke again, his voice dropping even lower, laced with venom.

“But before that, I need you to part ways with what I want the most,” Terry continued, his smile never faltering. “This whole scheme? It was about much more than money.” His words dripped with dark amusement as he watched Aston’s face falter, Terry’s words slowly sinking in. “I didn’t even want your money to begin with. I have plenty of that on my own. But you’ve been disrespecting me ever since I came to the firm, which I find unacceptable. So now, I have to have everything you have. The money is... nice, I suppose. But it’s not my priority.”

Terry leaned in, closing the space between them with deliberate slowness. His breath ghosted across Aston’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. The words he whispered were smooth and velvety.

“You have someone... much more valuable to me.”

Aston’s face scrunched in confusion, his mind racing to understand what was being said. His heart thudded in his chest as the cryptic words twisted in his mind. And then it hit him. The realization crashed into him, freezing him in place. His blood ran cold as the horror settled over him like ice water.

Camille.

The name ran through his head, making his pulse quicken even more. The room seemed to tilt, his world suddenly spinning. He didn’t love Camille in a romantic sense. But she was still his friend, someone he had shared the last thirteen years of his life with. They had been through too much together to be torn apart by some… money-hungry beast. They had been companions in their shared pursuit of belonging, trapped in a world where power and influence shaped everything.

But beyond all of that, she was good. Pure. Kind-hearted. He felt the need to protect her surge through him. She couldn’t fall into the hands of a monster like Terry. Not when he was capable of doing anything to get what he wanted. A wave of nausea swept over him. But instead of cowering, Aston looked Terry in the eyes, showing that this was where he drew the line. 

“You stay the fuck away from her,” Aston snarled, a burst of courage running through him. Terry just chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, Camille will be well taken care of, well-cherished, and well-fucked,” Terry laughed sinisterly. But his voice returned serious. “But, I need you out of the way. But it has to be subtle. So, if you follow my instructions, I’ll be merciful. But if you try to fuck me over,” he spoke, pulling him up slightly by his collar. “I will make you suffer in every way imaginable.”

Aston sniffled. He couldn’t let him get away with this, but he needed to be smart. He wouldn’t be able to help Camille from the other side of the grave. So he needed to remain in Terry’s good graces until he had a solid plan to navigate the situation. 

“What do you need me to do then?” He gulped as Terry hummed thoughtfully, watching him intensely. 

“We’ll see what works best as we go along. But, your first task will be breaking up with Camille. The little thing loves to stick to her morals, which I admire. But it makes her a bit inaccessible at the moment,” Terry began with a nonchalant shrug. 

Aston’s mind seemed to stutter as he processed everything that was said. No, no, he couldn’t let Camille deal with this predator alone. He needed to buy some time.

“I can break up with her, but her hands will still be tied by the contract,” Aston stated, hoping he was giving him new information. Terry’s jaw clenched but he looked intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“Camille and I have a contractual agreement. The marriage prevents her family from losing everything. Sure, she’ll be covered by you, I’m assuming, but if her family loses everything, their houses, their assets, she’ll be devastated. And her father has placed so much pressure on her to be their savior. If the marriage doesn’t go through, she has no way of preventing them from falling into poverty,” he stammered. 

Terry looked genuinely surprised by the revelation. He released his grip on Aston’s collar, making his head fall back into the hard floor. He groaned, white-hot pain throbbing from the site of impact.

Terry rubbed his chin, his eyes flickering to Jabari, who remained silent and unmoving during this entire exchange. He brought his eyes back to Aston, making him hold his breath.

“Huh, I knew that this engagement was arranged, but I had no idea there was a contract involved…” he whispered to himself, more so than Aston. But his eyes came back into focus.

“Alright,” Terry’s grin returned to his face. “You obviously have valuable knowledge of the situation.” Aston released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“But,” Terry growled, fangs once again appearing from the corner of his lips. “I still want you to end the relationship, sooner rather than later. So once I figure this contract shit out, it better be the first thing you do. For your sake at least.” Aston gave a curt nod. He had no intention of breaking up with Camille when the time came, but he just needed to do what he could to get back home.

Terry rose from his haunches, fully standing over him. 

“Jabari will make sure that any injuries you got from tonight will heal fully before you get home. It’s a drink we make, but it’ll be mixed with a lot of alcohol so you don’t have to remember anything but the most important details of the night. You’ll also need to wash up and freshen your clothes. Once all that’s settled, he’ll make sure to drop you by your apartment.” Again, Aston nodded furiously, just wanting to move on from this moment in time so he could figure out how to protect himself and Camille.

“And, just so we’re clear,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You tell anyone about any of this, especially Camille, I will kill every family member you have in front of you, slowly and brutally, until no one’s left. Then I’ll kill you too.”

With that, Terry stepped over his body to walk out of the warehouse as Jabari lifted him from the floor.

Camille

Camille couldn’t help but pull at the satin restraints expertly tied around her wrists as she writhed with agonizing pleasure. Through a haze of tears, Camille looked up at the hypnotic blue eyes of her captor as he gazed down at her, silently pleading for him to have some mercy on her. But Terry just smirked down at her, his strong thighs keeping her legs pried open as he slowly pulled in and out of her, his length brushing past a spot that made her vision blur with each stroke. 

“Baby…,” her voice barely above a whisper. He hummed, grabbing her leg to place a feathery soft kiss on her ankle. Her toes curled in response and her pussy quivered around him, pulling a satisfied groan from his throat.

“What is it, princess?” he teased before dragging his tongue across her Achilles. “Tell Daddy what you want so I can do it for you. Pussy too good to not let you have what you want.” Camille’s lips quivered as she tried to form words, the delicious pressure in her core too intense for her to think. Her lover placed a few more kisses on her calf, his strokes slowly coming to a stop. Camille’s body throbbed at the absence of his movement, stuck at just the edge of her climax. 

“No, no…no, Terry pleaseeee,” she whined, her hands pulling at the restraints that kept her tied to the bed. She could feel her orgasm retreating with every passing second.

“That’s not my name right now, baby girl,” He purred. He reached down between her legs, his calloused thumb, ever so slowly, circling her bundle of nerves. A chorus of pathetic moans escaped her lips at the friction. “Come on, princess. Just use your words. Tell me what you need.” 

Instead of answering, Camille furrowed her brows in frustration, moving her hips to meet his in an attempt to find some relief. Terry growled, gripping her thighs to hold her still. 

“Uh-uhn. Don’t be a greedy little brat. I already made you cum twice. But now I want you to beg,” his chest rumbled. Camille took a deep breath, finding the strength to voice her desires.

“P-please, Daddy. Please don’t stop,” she whispered. Terry chuckled, nearly pulling out of her completely, before slamming his full length back into her. Camille’s eyes rolled back as his girth stuffed her, nearly knocking the wind right out of her. Terry lowered his body down to hers until his lips were next to her ear, his weight locking her in place. “I can’t hear you, my love,” he mumbled, placing a teasing, sloppy kiss on her neck. 

“Please, Daddy I can’t take it! Just fucking fuck me!” she shouted, a sob shaking her body. Terry laughed, licking a tear from her cheek. “As you wish, baby girl.”

He leaned back, his large hand wrapping around her neck as he plunged in and out of her at the perfect pace. Camille’s back arched off the bed as he fucked the last bit of thoughts out of her head. The light squeeze on her neck. The way he hit her spot. The deep groans and moans tumbling past his lips. It was all too much for her. She couldn’t tell if the man was sending her straight to heaven or dragging her down to hell.

“You’re so pretty when I fuck you like this. All tied up. Begging with those tears rolling down your face. Pure fucking perfection. Of course I have to keep you all to myself,” he chuckled, the hand around her neck going to caress her tear-stained cheek. “Which is why, before I let you cum, we need to get an understanding.” Camille’s pussy clenched in response to his rough, almost animalistic tone. 

“Tell me you will leave McCoy,” he growled, staring down at her, his pace never faltering. Camille’s eyes widened. How could he demand that of her? 

He scoffed at her hesitation, bringing his hand back to her neck. “Camille,” his tone full of warning. “Stop fucking playing with me. He could never fuck you this good. Only I make you this damn delirious. Only me.” Camille bit her lip, feeling a familiar pressure in her stomach. She was almost there…so so clos–

“Camille!” Terry growled. 

“I’m yours, only yours Terry!” Camille screamed, her orgasm crashing over her. Stars and fireworks flashed in her vision as her legs shook uncontrollably. “I’ll always be yours!”

He chuckled darkly, licking his lips. “That’s right, Mrs. Richmond.”

Camille jolted awake, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. Her chest heaved as she scanned the room, the light from the nearby buildings and billboards bathing it in a faint red glow. 

It must be late, she thought, trying to distract from the wetness between her legs and the heat radiating off her body. She turned to Aston's side of the bed, searching for comfort. But his side of the mattress was as empty and cold as it was hours ago.

Confused, she reached for her phone on the nightstand, unlocking it. The screen lit up, and her eyes darted to the time. 11:49.

Where could he be at this hour? The thought spun in her mind urgently. Is he okay?

Aston's pro-bono work had always kept him late, but it was rare for him to be gone past 9:00 PM. She’d become accustomed to his late nights, but this felt different. A knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. She dialed his number, her pulse quickening with each ringing tone. One, two... then a click switched to a voicemail prompt. 

Where is he?

She didn’t hesitate to type out a text, her fingers moving almost automatically. Is everything ok? It’s pretty late.

She hit send, then waited, watching the “delivered” before it flipped to “read.” Her chest tightened as the seconds ticked by. No response came. 

A hollow feeling settled deep inside her as she locked her phone, placing it back on the nightstand with a resigned sigh. Her shoulders slumped forward, the emptiness of the room closing in on her. She couldn’t stop the feelings that flooded in, unloved... unimportant. Her mind spiraled. What else could he be doing right now? The question echoed in her mind, but no answer came. Tears threatened to spill, stinging the corners of her eyes. She closed them tightly, biting her lip as a soft sniffle escaped her. Maybe Kali had been right all along. Aston had never truly changed. But what was she supposed to do with that truth? What could she possibly do now?

She needed to distract herself. Do something to keep the hurt from boiling over. The throb in her pussy began to gnaw at her more and her eyes landed on the nightstand. She reached into the drawer, fishing her hand around until she brushed against the silicon of her rose toy. Rolling onto her back, she switched on the toy and stuck it between her legs. As she positioned it perfectly over her clit, she rolled her head back, letting her imagination run wild as her mind shifted from her sorrows and focused on the sensations.

She could see the scenes clearly, as if she were dreaming again. Strong arms wrapping around her. Thick lips parting to stick a dominating tongue into her mouth. Hands pulling on her hair. Loving kisses pressed against her collarbone. 

Just a bit more, she thought as her orgasm approached. Then, she’ll be able to lull herself back to sleep. It didn't take long for the wave to crash over her, a name unconsciously slipping past her lips. “Oh, Terr-”

Camille was cut off by the apartment front door slamming open. She screamed, tossing the toy away from her in surprise. 

“Fuck! Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!” Aston’s screaming reverberated off the wall. Camille quickly sat up, pulling her robe around her trembling body. She stumbled out of the room, gasping as she entered the living area. Aston was a storm, a whirlwind of fury. His movements were erratic as he thrashed at anything within reach. His fists pounded into the walls, leaving deep, jagged dents, while shards of glass crunched beneath his feet, scattered across the floor from glasses he was throwing. A barstool lay overturned, its legs splintered. He screamed again. Camille’s breath hitched in her throat, terror clawing at her chest. His eyes snapped to her, pausing his rampage. His chest heaved as he ran a hand through his hair as he looked around at the damage he caused. He started to stumble toward hers, his steps uncoordinated. She recoiled in fright, pressing herself against the wall. But then she caught a whiff of him. He smelled like he fell out of a whiskey bottle. 

She froze. He had been drinking. Aston never drank. 

“Millie… baby. I’m sorry, i-if I woke you–”

“Aston… What the hell is going on?” Camille’s voice cracked.

“Nothing, baby, nothing. We just need to talk,” Aston panted, struggling to catch his breath. His chest heaved and he collapsed onto one of the barstools, his hands shaking. “You have to quit working for Terry. Probably quit working for the firm altogether.”

“What?!” Camille’s voice shot up, disbelief flooding her. “Why? Why would I do that?!”

Aston sneered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Wow, you can’t even think about it? Can’t even consider it? As my future wife, I thought you’d have more respect for me.” His eyes were filled with frustration, but Camille only felt more lost.

“You’re seriously angry at me because I don’t want to quit my job?” Camille’s voice quivered, her heart pounding as the fear inside of her slowly became anger. “Do you hear yourself right now?” Her mind raced from the absurdity of it all.

Aston threw his hands up, eyes rolling in dramatic frustration. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Camille? Do you think I’m just saying this for fun?!” His voice cracked as he yelled, amplifying the chaos between them.

Camille blinked rapidly as hot, silent tears spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t even tell if they were from fear or from anger. All she could hear clearly was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Aston,” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “I’m not having this conversation with you unless you calm down.”

Aston’s expression faltered, his anger momentarily replaced by something softer. Exhaustion, maybe, or regret. But it didn’t last. He stumbled toward the sectional a few feet away, sinking into the couch, his hands buried in his hair as he sniffled, the tension still coiled in his body. “Baby, I can’t tell you what happened tonight, okay?” His voice cracked. “Just… just know that Terry is fucking dangerous. He’s fucking evil. And I can’t, I can’t let you be around him, alright?”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me what happened?!” Camille shot back, her voice cracking in frustration. She moved closer to him, careful not to step on the broken glass scattered on the floor. “You come in here, drunk as hell and wrecking our home. You scare me half to death. And now you’re telling me to stay away from my boss for some unknown reason? Or is it just your jealousy?!” The words exploded from her before she could stop them, her anger raw and untamed. But as soon as she said them, her eyes closed momentarily with regret, knowing that her words were unnecessary.

**

Aston’s head snapped up, his eyes filled with hurt and something much darker. The venom in his gaze sent a chill down her spine. He glared at her, his voice lowering to a dangerous edge. “You think you know everything, don’t you? You think Terry’s better than me? Of course you do. You look at him as if he hung the moon,” His words hung in the air, cold and accusing.

She gasped, feeling as though she was one in the wrong and not him. “Aston,” she whispered, her throat tight. “You’re talking crazy. Terry isn’t better than you. Is this still about him making partner—”

“No, you fucking bitch!” Aston shouted, cutting her off, making Camille flinch. “It’s not about that, Camille! Why can’t you just listen to me?!” His eyes burned with anger, and in a split second, he shot up from the couch, his body towering over hers as he advanced. Camille’s chest tightened with panic as she instinctively stepped back.

Aston followed her, relentless. “That guy is out to get me, Camille. And you have no idea how much danger you’re in. That’s all I can say. Tomorrow, you will put in your two weeks’ notice. And then I'm putting you on a plane to somewhere safe,” he demanded, his voice low and deadly.

Camille’s breath hitched in her throat. Despite the fear that gripped her, she would not let Aston take one of the last things that made her happy away from her. She shook her head defiantly. “I will do no such thing,” she whispered.

His anger felt thick and suffocating as it surrounded them. Aston's face twisted in frustration as he stared at her, his fists clenched at his sides. The room was silent except for the harsh sound of their breathing. But then, he walked closer to her, attempting to close the gap between them. Camille retreated until she felt her back hit the wall of their living room.

He slammed his hands on both sides of her head, leaning in close enough for her to smell the alcohol on his breath. “You ungrateful bitch!” Camille, terrified, tried to move away from him. But his hands moved to grip her forearms, with enough force that she was sure he left bruises. “You are fucking quitting tomorrow! Do you fucking hear me?!” He jerked her body harder than he intended, slamming her into the wall behind her, leaving a dent. She cried out in pain, falling to the floor as he dropped her. He looked down at her with horror.

“Millie… baby,” Aston's voice trembled as he reached out for her, his hand shaking in the air, desperate to touch her.

“Don’t. Touch me!” Camille sobbed, her voice cracking. Aston flinched as though she had slapped him, his face contorting with shock and hurt. He froze in place, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, as she stumbled back to a standing position, using the wall for support to keep her upright. The tears flowed freely, but she couldn’t stop moving. She had to get away. She had to get somewhere. Anywhere but here.

**

Her legs barely held her up as she wobbled toward their bedroom, but just as her hand reached the doorframe, Aston appeared in front of her, blocking her path. 

“Baby, please… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it! Please, I swear, I didn’t mean it,” his voice desperate. He reached for her again, but she shoved past him with all the strength she had left.

She headed straight for the closet, her hands moving frantically as she yanked clothes off the hangers, shoving them into an overnight bag. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t even think straight as she stuffed her shoes and jewelry in without care. 

Aston followed her, his voice pleading, but she couldn’t hear him anymore. His words were drowned out by the deafening roar of her own heartbeat. Tears blurred her vision as she moved through the motions, grabbing her toothbrush, her contact lenses, her makeup case. She refused to stop. 

When she finally turned to face him, Aston was on his knees, his face streaked with tears and snot, his chest heaving with sobs that shook him to his core. His gaze locked with hers, desperation and agony showing.

“Millie, please,” he begged, his voice hoarse, almost broken. “Please don’t go. I swear I didn’t mean it… I’ll do anything… just… please.”

She looked down at him, her heart aching, and for a moment, she wondered if she should stay. If he was really apologetic. He does seem sorry, she thought. But I can’t stay. The pain at the back of her head flared again, sharper this time, and she fought to keep herself steady. The thought of his hands on her, his rage, the way he just tore everything apart… it was too much.

She stepped past him, deciding not to take the risk. She pulled her robe tighter around herself. She didn’t look at him again, stepping into her house slippers and making her way toward the door.

“Millie… please, Millie!” Aston’s voice cracked behind her, but she wouldn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to.

She opened the front door, her hand shaking as she pulled her phone from her robe’s pocket. She needed to get away, go somewhere she could breathe and process how her world just fell apart.

She nearly fumbled her phone as she dialed Kali’s number, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. It rang twice before her friend’s voice came through.

“Cammieeee! Hey birthday girl!” Kali’s voice chirped cheerfully, but Camille could hear the shift in her friend’s tone as she sobbed into the phone, her voice cracking in a way she never allowed Kali to hear before. “Kali, I’m so sorry to call and ask so late. But can I please stay the night? Please.”

The moment Kali heard her desperation, her voice softened, concern bleeding through. “Oh my God, Camille… absolutely! I’ll get everything ready for you. Don’t worry, it's not a problem at all!”

“Thank you,” Camille sniffled, the words barely escaping her as she wiped away the last of her tears. She hung up the phone abruptly, barely even hearing the final words Kali had spoken as she stepped into the elevator.

Terry

Terry stood before the altar in his bedroom, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the walls. He stared as the flames danced, tall, vibrant tongues of orange, red, and pink that swirled and shifted with a powerful potency. His love spell was working. Every flicker of the flame seemed to confirm it, she was in love with him and ached to be his. 

His gaze lingered on the sacred space until a sudden vibration from his pocket broke his focus. His fingers twitched as he reached down, wondering who could possibly be texting him this late. He hoped it wasn’t Jabari telling him he ran into any problems.

He glanced at his phone screen, expecting a mundane message. But, the number was unfamiliar. A stranger. Curiosity mixed with unease as the message popped up:

Terry. I know what you want. And I want to help you get it.

His brow furrowed. The words were too cryptic for his comfort. He stared at the screen for a long moment, wanting to delete the message altogether. He wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit. But a voice in his head urged him to engage. Shaking his head, Terry quickly typed out a response:

Who the hell is this?

He waited, and soon enough, the chat bubble appeared, followed by a cryptic reply:

A friend. Someone on your side.

Terry’s patience was thinning. He didn’t have time for this. Impatiently, he typed:

Tell me what this is about or stop playing on my phone.

Just as he was about to toss his phone back in his pocket and re-focus on the altar, the response appeared startlingly quick:

Camille. You want her to be yours, right?

Terry’s heart skipped a beat, his blood turning to ice. His fingers froze over the screen as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. Before he could type another message, another response came:

We should meet up. Come here tomorrow night @7.

A location pin was sent before the chat went completely silent. Terry took a labored breath. This could be trouble. After a long pause, Terry shoved his phone back into his pocket. He would go to this meeting, see who this person was. If they were a threat, he would deal with them swiftly. But if they wanted to support him, he would gladly accept the help.

*: Terry murders a man in front of Aston

**: Aston hurts Camille, prompting her to leave their apartment

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

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @hello-therree @solunaseira @hotebonynearby @key05marie @moebuttta @winorlosetogether @nohatingpplbczhtingpplr @alexinmotion @queencb2462 @kismet83 @bruleecream

[romanreignsbae]

Forbidden Desires - Chapter 1

R.R

Y/n was always what everyone considered blessed. Now, being the assistant for the tribal chief had it’s perks. For starters, you rode around in his luxurious bus, that only few people were allowed on.

You also, were granted with being able to fly on private jets to get from place to place, as well as exquisite hotel rooms booked and paid for.

Especially your schedule. Roman Reigns wasn't showing up to every pay per view. Not even every Friday night SmackDown. He made appearances when he felt like it. So you were usually home, that didn't mean you were off work, you had other things to handle.

Many people wanted to be you, or at least wanted your job. While these people we’re wanting your job and status, you were wanting the man you worked for, your boss, none other then the Roman Reigns.

You’d been working for him for almost 4 years now. Ever since he pursued his heel character, you’d been hired as his personal assistant.

Being his assistant wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. You initially had thought he’d order you around to do his dirty work, but working for him was nicer then excepted.

All you really did was keep track of his hectic schedule, pack his luggage for him, and follow him around during meetings and travels...you were even ‘ordered’ to be taking care of something he claimed to be more important then work. And not to mention the money was a plus. He paid you better then you deserved, you swore it was favouritism, for some obvious reasons.

Over the years you worked for him, you two created a special bond. Yes, he was your boss. But, he was also your best friend. You two would often spend time together even during non work related moments.

You could find the both of you at a bar together. Or having movie nights in each other’s hotel rooms. You loved the time you spent together. And maybe loved him..

The only problem in your way was the age gap you two shared. You were in your early twenties whereas Roman was on the verge of 40. The age gap wasn’t even a big deal to you. But, if others found out you’d grown feelings for your boss. All hell would break loose. Roman, is extraordinarily popular with females.

Like seriously, he has some die hard female fans. Most around your age. If anyone found out about this little crush you’d developed..well..you’d for starters be fired, and your reputation would be completely destroyed.

So here you are, sitting in the tribal chief’s private jet, waiting to land in Las Vegas. “Alright, only about a hour to go” a familiar deep voice spoke. You looked up to see Roman sitting comfortably in his seat, staring intently at you. “Yeah..” you mumbled.

“Whats up with you? You been like this all flight, completely out of it. What’s wrong are you sick? Do you have a fever? The flu? Is you know- nevermind..” Roman spoke worried glancing around as if anyone was watching. “No no, im good” you spoke as reassuringly as you could. He looked at you skeptically before closing his Macbook and making his way to sit beside you.

He sat beside you and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking up. “What’s planned for today?” he asked you. You quickly opened your large Ipad before glancing over his schedule created perfectly by you. “Well..today you’re free as a bird, and tomorrow you have a meeting in the afternoon, it’s a long one..” you told him.

“Damn, I hate the long meetings” he spoke with a smile. “They are the worst” you agreed grinning. “Anyways, since i’m free today, why don’t you and I head out, go do something fun together, away from work..you know after we get settled in..” he spoke almost nervously.

You were surprised to say the least. You didn’t think he would wanna spend his free day with you. “Yeah sure. What do you wanna do?” you asked him while trying to hide your growing smile. “Anything you want. Actually you know what? Lemme take you shopping, Las Vegas is known for their malls” he requested with a wink. Your cheeks started heating up.

“Sure” you spoke softly. He smiled at you before striking up new conversation about some investors looking to partner with WWE. It kept yourself distracted from the mess in your mind. Before you knew it, you landed in Las Vegas, and your uber was here to take you and Roman to the hotel.

Once you arrived to your hotel, you and Roman headed to the front desk to get the keys to your rooms.

“I’m sorry sir but, only one room has been booked-” the hotel worker spoke.

“That cant be! You don’t understand, I called yesterday booking two rooms!” Roman spoke roughly at the worker. Your feelings were hurt to say the least. You didn’t think he’d be this avoidant at sharing a room with you, especially after the favor you did him. You instantly felt your heart swelling and tears coming to your eyes. This man always made you so sensitive over the smallest things.

You refused to cry over this so you grabbed Roman’s arm. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom, i’ll be right back” you spoke softly. Roman slightly nodded his head before going back to barking at the hotel employee.

You took as long as you could trying to get yourself together in the bathroom. You had just arrived is Las Vegas and he was already making you feel like shit. You didn’t even understand what the problem was. Well, deep down you did...you knew he didn't wanna make the same mistake.

You made your way back to the lobby to see a more calm and quiet Roman standing by the elevators.

“So Y/n..they are all booked and it looks like me and you are roommates for the next few nights” he told me. “I’m really sorry..” he added ashamed.

Your eyes widened. Why was he sorry? He didn’t even do anything. Well apart side from almost making you cry, but thats besides the point.

“Roman..why are you sorry? It’s just a room..no biggie” you spoke, plus it's not like you haven't shared one before.

“Because well, I don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage of you..and I don’t wanna make things awkward and weird between us..” he went on nervously.

You both knew he was lying straight through his teeth. That wasn't the real reason.

You took his words in before responding. You reached out and touched his arm reassuringly. “Ro, that’s okay, seriously I don’t mind.” you let him know. You'd be careful this time. He smiled at you almost gratefully knowing you understood.

The hotel room the two of you would be sharing was nothing less then absolutely luxurious. But you weren't surprised, the tribal chief always needed the best.

After the two of you settled into your hotel room, Roman called for an Uber to take you two to the mall. Inside the uber Roman and you made small talk back and forth but no one could deny the elephant in the room.

A little secret the two of you shared was up in the air. Something no one could know about...otherwise everything would be ruined. He warned you, if anyone found out what the two of you shared, it was over.

Everything was.

That was the first chapter of forbidden desires that I've been putting off. I have a lot more sitting in my drafts for you guys that'll be out soon. Also what do you think the little secret is? Let me know what you think of this chapter.

[k-hotchoisan]

🌶️spicy boys🌶️

Please do note before you proceed:

Majority of my fics are smuts. But I will preface it in my warnings. Please MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There will be instances where I will write about other fandoms. Tags will be placed for identification.

These fics are NOT actual representation of the idols’ personalities in real life. These are works of fiction and are HEADCANNONS.

I do take requests. No gore, violence, dub con, and anything I’m uncomfortable with will NOT BE entertained.

Please DO NOT reproduce my fics (straight up copy/paste and posting it on other sites) without my permission. That is plagiarism + I literally am writing for free for my readers. Do not disrespect my work.

Please do enjoy your stay here. 🌶️❤️

🌱 Requests: open! It's hard hours! 🌶️👹

🌱 status: semi inactive 🐻 (please be patient with me!)

<3 I write for free so please be patient with me while I churn out your requests 🩷

❤️ love & deep space blog

🌱Networks:

🥀 Cult of Dionysus

🥀 Cromer Net

🥀 San Network

🥀 atz house

🌱 I do requests and write for free, but I would love it if you ☕️ bought me coffee🩷

🌱 apply for taglist here!

🌱 dividers from @cafekitsune 🦊🧡

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

LIST

🌶️ - smut

🩷 - requests

🌸 - fluff

🥀 - angst

Ateez

Special Masterlists

🌶️ ♡ How to be a heartbreaker ♡ (various x reader)

🌶️ 🌶️K’s 500: This or that?🌶️

🌶️ stay perverted: the masterlist (1.5K followers celebration)

🌶️ K’s Twisted Wonderland 🍄 (2K followers celebration

Hongjoong

🌶️🩷🌸 first time’s the charm

🌶️🩷 all hands on me

🌶️ wetting your lips - stay perverted series

Seonghwa

🌶️🌸 toothbrush

🌶️🩷 agora hills

🌶️🩷 seonghwa licking chocolate off your tits pt.2

🌶️ Seonghwa’s bite kink

🌶️ heavy and sticky — stay perverted series

🌶️ missing piece — bro x aubs collab

Yunho

🌶️🩷 under the influence

🌶️🩷 Yunho & his hands

🌶️🩷 golden retriever

🌶️ Yuyu’s hands pt2

🌶️ body language - stay perverted series

Yeosang

🌶️ active recovery

🌶️ sticky web

🌶️ vanilla and cream - stay perverted series

🌶️🩷 alrighty aphrodite

San

🌶️ Soaking Wet

🌶️ in my head

🌶️ Divination with the Demon

🌶️ the last of the real ones

🌶️ Seven minutes in heaven, but make it San

🌶️ good girl’s guide to summoning a demon 👻✨FRIDAY 13TH SPECIAL✨👻

🌶️ word vomit about being choked by San

🌶️ what’s so great about hoodie season? (San)

🌶️ “just the tip” (san)

🌶️🩷 when San’s a little too jealous

🌶️🩷 snap

🌶️🩷 angelholic

🌶️🩷 San choking you while he fucks you

🌶️🩷 san overstimulating you

🌶️ the scentist - stay perverted series

🌶️🩷 pretty kitty

🌶️ save a horse, ride a cowboy

🌶️ his favourite (Choi San’s birthday special)

🌶️ coming home with me

Mingi

🌶️ seven minutes in heaven

🌶️ when mingi cums on your face

🌶️🩷 I want you

🌶️ under the sheets - stay perverted series

🌶️ backseat serenade

Wooyoung

🌶️🩷 slow down

🌶️ and you never invited me?

🌶️ to the side(p1) /from the back(p2) - stay perverted series

🌶️ how to tame a brat tamer

Jongho

🌶️🌸 almost natural

🌶️ touch and sketch - stay perverted series

Two's a crowd, why not have more?

🌶️🩷 good cop, bad cop (Seonghwa x fem!reader x Yunho)

🌶️🩷 when the gang is banging (OT8)

🌶️🩷 when your daddies come home from work (sanhwa x fem!reader)

🌶️🩷 7 minutes of compensation (yunhwa x fem!reader)

🌶️🩷 play rough (sanhwa x fem!reader)

© All rights reserved to k-hotchoisan

[elizais]

dazai who doesn't explicitly tell the agency about his lover

how dazai acts when he has a crush/partner outside of the agency reader doesn't work at the agency nor is given a part if that makes sense?? this is dazai not explicitly telling anyone about her but when the agency picks up on it fluff fluff fluff, dazai in love

dazai who walks into the agency day after day, sometimes much later than others but still there nonetheless. walking in and smiling to himself more, his silly little crush on his mind. his silly little crush who he would not let be a quick hookup. he genuinely couldn't shake her out of his mind.

dazai who leaves work giddy one day, excited to go on another date. after completing all his work on his own so he could talk about the case to you. he actually read all the paperwork so he could tell you everything in it! kunikida is a fool to think he actually just started being responsible.

dazai who is seen checking his phone whenever he gets a notification and smiling as he types out something. smiling to himself when he sees your simple or complex messages. despite knowing how much you value someone who cares about work, he is willing to message you all day instead.

dazai who doesn't tell the agency immediately because he doesn't want them to think you are just a fling. he definitely had a bad reputation but he was willing to change everything for you.

dazai who doesn't notice that ranpo notices all of his new mannerisms. fridays must be a date night as he chooses to dress a bit nicer, adjusts his bolo tie before leaving and doesn't just throw his coat around like he usually does. choosing that carefully hanging his coat up would be better to prevent wrinkles.

dazai who only starts telling everyone about his special lady when he is on his phone (messaging you) and is teased by ranpo across the room.

"sooo what is her name, dazai?" the master detective asked as he sat on his desk, kicking his feet. upon hearing his name, osamu was instantly snapped out of his trance. "have i not told any of you?" he smiled. the rest of the agency looked up from their work, confused.

"i thought you gave up on the waitress ages ago?" yosano asked. "i did, months ago!" dazai responded as he walked towards the coat rack that he hung his coat up on. pulling out his wallet, he took out the polaroid of the both of you.

"that's [name]!" he shown the room, kunikida didn't seem to believe him until he took the photo out of dazai's hands. "do you not believe me?" dazai asked, fake offense in his voice.

the rest of the agency began to gather around the photo, in awe of the adorable picture. they had to admit, the moment in time of the two of your heads squished together with grins plastered on both faces.

"my belladonna.." he whispered to himself. "now that i think of it, there have been less suicide attempts.." atsushi pondered. "why would i do such a thing when i have her? at first when she declined a double suicide i was disappointed as she is the most beautiful woman ever but her personality is even prettier.."

this whole new attitude was incredibly different from everything they knew about dazai but if anyone deserved happiness, he did. and if he talks about you like this, then they had to be happy for the both of you.

dazai who after that day, brings a framed photo of the both of you and places it next to his laptop. a messy collage of small photos smashed into a frame. another polaroid with you dressed up with him on halloween. (the statue of liberty and a tourist). another photo of you dressed up at a fancy restaurant. there is even one where you both have messy hair and you have pressed countless kisses to his face with red lipstick on.

dazai who will never let you be in harm's way. he made a promise to protect people and if he could let you meet the man who made him a better person, he would in a heartbeat.

dazai who goes to yosano when you get sick for advice because he will NOT take any risks even if it is just a cold.

dazai who does not wipe off lipstick stains before work, and takes pride in having faint marks on his face from you.

dazai who can't wait to let the people who take care of him meet you, the reason he carries on.

dazai who is so happy when you get along with the rest of the agency. although when you and the agency girls are hanging out he becomes the third wheel.

dazai who talks about you all the time to kunikida, claiming he was an "expert boyfriend" and is more than happy to give kunikida relationship advice.

a/n! so this won the poll!! as always, weekends are writing time for me so please excuse my lack of presence on here from time to time!

[mochimagiareport]

Magia☆Report Smart Slots Special Edition Episode 1 Translated by Mochi A total of 4 comics by PAPA will be revealed every Friday! The slots will be introduced nationwide on April 7! Look forward to it Source: https://x.com/univerfreaks/status/1902918092310843513

[imtryingandtired]

Episode ideas for a NATM series that should exist

- McPhee ending up getting fired as museum curator because of complaints from museum guests not liking him all that much and getting replaced with a much worse person, so Larry tries to get him back

- War breaks out between the Wild West and Rome exhibit despite Jed and Octavius being friends now and them having to try getting to the bottom of this sudden aggression

- A buzzfeed unsolved type group starts to believe the natural history museum is haunted and decide to have a lockdown type stream in it to catch ghostly activity

- Larry has some time off as night guard and his temporary replacement ends up being the worst, leading to them trying to get Larry to come back

- Obligatory body swap or Freaky Friday episode for the fun of it

- Larry gets to go back to the Smithsonian after they borrow ahk and the tablet for a exhibit featuring the gate of kahmunrah (new wax statue or his actual corpse), him and Ahk reuniting

- The anniversary of Wea and Teddy getting together comes up and the exhibits try planning the perfect date for them, going the slightest bit overboard

- Halloween special where Ahk discovers a lone statue in the basement while exploring and befriends them, only to find out no statues are actually down there and revealed to be a spirit

- Christmas carol type episode with McPhee as Scrooge

- Flashback episode to Ahks childhood and eventual death (also this episode focusing on his time at Cambridge)

- One of Larry’s invention prototypes get discovered by some big tech boss who wants to help him make it big in the industry, making the exhibits worry that he’ll leave

- Teddy ends up having to be taken away for repairs after fetch with rexy gets too hectic, but when he comes back he’s acting completely different and the gang try to get to the bottom of it

- Ahk decides to sneak out of the museum one night to see how much the world has changed since he’s been let out of his sarcophagus and shenanigans ensue as Larry runs around New York trying to find him

Leave suggestions for other episode ideas

[filmofhybe]

new written series ! — by filmofhybe.

IN EVERY MULTIVERSE

in which

> y/n was a young girl who believed in the multiverse. Believed that in each multiverse your in, something special or memorable would happen. What if she figures out a way to travel through each and every multiverse she would be in, and meet seven different boys that captures her eyes. Which she sadly can’t seem to get them off her mind at the end of every Adventure.Will she ever meet them again in her every multiverse?

PAIRING : ot7! x reader

🥥 GENRE : friends to lovers , academic rivals , streamer x streamer , stranger to lover , patient x doctor , singer x dancer , café owner x regular customer , coming of age

WARNINGS : angst , swearing , kissing , romance , kys jokes , dad jokes lmao

🗯️ FEATURING: enhypen obvi , rei - ive , K & Jo - &team , Yunjin - Le Sserafim , Sana - twice , Hanbin - ZB1

TAGLIST : feel free to comment to be added :)

STATUS : every Friday :) (hopefully…)

The perfect blend - YJW

synopsis : can you ever imagine in this multiverse, you having the biggest fattest crush on your best friend - Yang jungwon, however knowing he already has a “girlfriend” hurts more than just a sting from a bee.

warnings : angst (100%) , fluff , crying , kissing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

video our love - LHS

synopsis : you were extremely camera shy in the actual world, so what makes you be so confident in front of millions across the world while facing towards the camera with your lover - Lee heeseung.

warnings: kissing , slight angst towards end (not much tho) , tooth rooting fluff

Healing hearts - PJS

synopsis : doctors and patients aren’t suppose to have romantics love towards each other. However, in this multiverse, your very much in love with you hot doctor - Park Jeongseong. Whose secretly trying to heal your broken heart..

warnings : kissing , tooth rotting fluff (cheer cuz there isn’t any angst on this one WOOHOO!!)

Academic Enmity Rivalry - JS

synopsis : all the studying just to make your parents proud until your biggest academic rival - Sim Jaehyun decides to have the biggest academic comeback. And offering you free legit tutoring lessons so you can beat him

Warnings : tooth rotting fluff , kissing , begging

Amidst Crowns - PSH

synopsis : crazy to think about how your a Royal in this multiverse, only for the crazy self-obsessed prince himself - Park Sunghoon to hit on you 24/7. Finding it annoying you decided to throw insults at him, not knowing the consequence.

warning : insult comments , fluff , slight angst , crying

Brewing Love - KSN

synopsis : now your a café owner?? Serving your favorite regular customer- Kim Sunoo everyday was the highlight of your day. Realizing you were falling for him before he starts bringing in girls, crushing your heart as you can’t handle it.

Warning : ANGST (I mean heavy) , kinda fluff , kiss on hand

Melodies of music & love - NR

synopsis : the last and final multiverse , your a singer to your lover dancer - Nishimura Riki. Promised to Perform together until realizing it isn’t your passion anymore. Maybe you want to continue in this universe and never go back… but how when you miss every boy you met in the other 6 multiverse..?

warning : sweet fluff , comfort , angsty (at the end.)

TBA….

SERIES TAGLIST : @enhaz1 @dubuii @in-somnias-world @ultimatestayandminoronce @yenqa @euncsace @hoondiors @yannew @mrchweeee @ariadores @oldjws @frukkoneeeeg @dimplewonie @seobstarr @asteria-wood (white = i cant tag)

; AUTHORS NOTES : since is December 1st on Friday , I would be updating this series every Friday leading up to January-February (or even earlier than that) . I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as I do. Don’t hesitate to ask to be on the taglist by commenting!! I love you all and hope you enjoy this series that’s going to be delivered to you soon :)

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

Tag yourself!

{made with the Ancestors and Great Spirits of the African Diaspora in mind, here's what I associate with each day of the week and the children of the diaspora born therein:

Monday's child is fair of face

Tuesday's child is full of grace

Wednesday's child is full of woe

Thursday's child has far to go

Friday's child is loving and giving

Saturday's child works hard for a living

And the child born on the Sabbath day

Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.

Monday: masters of finding new roads and moving forwards, tearing down blockages, trailblazers and warriors. Artists of all kinds, writers, poets, singers.

Tuesday: embodiment of thunderstorms, winds, omens, they're powerful conjurers with hot hands, always busy, always moving. Often times scholars, historians.

Wednesday: defenders, protectors, of humanity and nature as a whole. Warrior spirits at their core, but also great diviners and mediums.

Thursday: eloquent muses of the arts of love and war alike, great beauties who lead armies with equal charm and force. Sweetening, love and luck workings come easy to them.

Friday: personification of abundance and status. A commanding presence. Building legacy, great manifestors and conjurers, specially for work and finances.

Saturday: guardians of waters and the beyond. Community leaders, gifted healers, divine messengers. Carrying all the wisdom of the Elders and Ancestors.

Sunday: priests and priestesses that defy status quo, very old Ancestors coming back to reshape and rebirth reality. They will enter your life and purge every aspect of it.}

[ofmdrecaps]

07/18-19/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rhys & Rosie; Samba Schutte; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; #FirstMateFriday: Con O'Neill; Vico Ortiz; Linds Cantrell; Alex Sherman & Alyssa Lane; Kristian Nairn; Rachel House; Erroll Shand; Jes Tom; WBD Status; ; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Stede & Ed; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Love Notes ; Daily Darby / Today's Taika;

Hey crew, sorry for the delay. I was going to finish yesterday's recap this morning, and then my draft got nuked again due to my computer crashing, so yeah two day it is!

== Rhys & Rosie ==

Rhys and Rosie are out at the AllBlacks Rubgy game! They're super excited for AoNZ vs Fiji!

Source: Rhys & Rosie's Instagram Stories

== Samba Schutte ==

So some of the news that came out of Florida Supercon last weekend was Samba revealed in a panel that there was supposed to be an official OFMD Podcast and it was in the works until WBD said they "ran out of money". You can read the Full Article here

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos dad came out and had some commentary as well regarding it-- and Samba had more to add.

Source: David Jenkins' Twitter

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika out and about!

Source: Rosie Matheson's Instagram

Annnd Taika just being goofy!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by i Licaoni Digital Studio (@i_licaoni)

Source: i_licaoni's Instagram

The associated Press released another interview with Taika and Jemaine!

and yet ANOTHER interview with Taika and Jemaine, this time with Brad Gilmore!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Brad Gilmore (@bradgilmore)

Source: Brad Gilmore's Instagram

== First Mate Friday: Con O'Neill ==

There's a new trend this week! Folks on twitter have started up #FirstMateFriday in honor of Con O'Neill! There are so very many lovely tributes to him! I was only able to fit a few in, but they're all beautiful, and full of so much heartfelt love, and I'm sure he is out there basking in it all right now! Thank you to everyone who sent him some love today (and thank you to the lovely folks below for letting me share them!) Also, special thanks to RudestFish on twitter for coming up with this love fest for Con!

Source: RudestFish's Twitter

Source: lividturkeys Twitter

Source: wndrngnomad's Twitter

Source: 1chloreen1's Twitter

Source: Tayleafy's Twitter

== Alex Sherman and Alyssa Lane ==

Our beloved writers/co-producers Alex and Alyssa were out in Mexico City! So nice to see them out and having fun again!

Source: Alex Sherman's Instagram

Alex also popped in to appreciate our darling @fidisart on twitter!

Source: Fidisart's Twitter

== Long Post is Long, Lots under the Cut ==

== Vico Ortiz ==

Vico wants to wish everyone a Happy #NonMonogamyVisibility Week! They shared a lot about their history with polyamory and lots of Garlic Soup on their Instagram Stories as well!

Source: Vico's Instagram

== Linds Cantrell ==

Lindsey Cantrell is the biggest sweetheart by the way and she's been so happy to be interacting with everyone in the OFMD community-- it was just nice to see her feeling included and loved (she shared this on her IG Story). If you don't already follow her on IG, please do, she always has super cool stuff to share, even if it's not OFMD related. <3

Source: Linds Cantrell's Instagram

== Rachel House ==

Rachel was out seeing Bob Tidicue!

Source: Rachel House's Instagram Stories

== Erroll Shand ==

New Episode yesterday of The Twelve on Binge!

Source: Binge's Instagram

== Jes Tom ==

Jes was featured on the "GOOD BOYS" Podcast: Episode 2: Model Behavior! Wanna listen in? You can check out their linktree.

Source: For Them's Instagram

Some photos from Jes' recent comedy show with Tessa Skara: Corporate Pride.

Source: TessaFuckinSkara's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

Kristian is the special guest at Van Love Fest in Elvington Airfield, York!

Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== WBD News ==

So many of our crewmates on twitter have been highlighting some big news with WBD. It sounds like they may actually be doing a split in the upcoming future. Lot of articles below with more info.

Warner Bros Discovery drafts break-up plan

Warner Bros. Discovery might split itself into two pieces

Cord Cutting Today Warner Bros. Discovery Selling Max? Here is What We Know

Why Warner Bros. Discovery Stock Jumped 15% This Week

David Zaslav's Come To Jesus Moment

Sources: Meowzawowza, Never Left Podcast, Ashley (seven_sugars), MrButtons294 on Twitter

== Trends ==

Always nice to see!

Source: Never Left Podcast's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

Naureemum S. was another one of the stand-ins in OFMD according to https://ofmd-crew.com/ - Thank you to @melvisik for giving her a spotlight!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

== Our Flag Means Fanfiction ==

Are you going to be at San Diego Comic Con on July 25-28? Well keep an eye out for these free bookmarks from Our Flag Means Fanfiction!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies! I hope the end to your week was good to you! A lots happened in the last 48 hrs, and I apologize I'm so late sharing some of it. Please let me know if I missed anything! I love how much people are really stepping up the love for cast members after all the Emmy stuff that went down. I see everyone just aggressively (I say affectionatly) loving so many of them and it's so heart-warming and uplifting. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, but your love and kindness is so incredibly impactful. You may never get to see the fruits of your love (although the cast and crew does tend to show us they hear us) but know that every little bit builds up. Maybe someone was having a bad day, and seeing how much we love them gave them that extra boost to get through it-- you never know! There is an old greek proverb: "A society grows great when [folks] plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in."

That is really true about kindness and support and love too. You are sowing the seeds and roots of a better tomorrow, even if you yourself never get to see the branches and fruit that love produces.

Never let the harshness of the world dim your light lovelies. Your kindness and love moves mountains tiny bits at a time.

I hope you all have a wonderful, fairly uneventful weekend (unless you want it to be eventful!) and get some good rest <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

There is no theme tonight! Just Rhys being ridiculously hot, and Meow blessing us with this adorable Taika smile. Happy belated Meow Day! Rhys Gif by @ofmd-ann and Taika Gif by @blakbonnet!

[walkergirlsposts]

https://x.com/nonnie_rose/status/1884749589414338690

So it was the drop in the 18-49 demo that caused the network to panic and hire Misha back. Forget about the fact that S7 was airing in the Friday night death slot and the overall storyline/special effects were so criticized that it’s STILL considered one of the worst season’s of the show. No, the drop was all cause of Castiel getting killed off.

LMAO They rehired him because Misha cried to Singer after he couldn't find any work. Right. The demo. 🤣🤣

[superslavemannn]

The Nuclear Apocalypse of Superman: Book 1 (Chap. 1)

Hi guys. This is my first time updating a novel on Tumblr, a long fan fiction about Superman and his tragic but arousing experiences. It’s a very long story, and I plan to tell it in at least three books. The first book (which has 12 chapters) is already complete, and the second book is currently in the works. Starting this week, I will be updating a version with images every Friday on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: This is a reimagined fan fiction of the movie Superman IV: The Quest for Peace. While most main characters from the film are retained, the entire plot has been reimagined to suit the nature of this work. It is an erotic fan fiction intended for mature readers, featuring male/male relationships and explicit content. This work is non-commercial. In this story, most of the images are derived from movie. I have tried to use photos from the Reeve Superman movies to maintain authenticity, but there are also some high-quality AI-generated images. I do not own these images.

*You can share or repost but please credit @superslaveman on Tumblr or X :)

Acknowledgments: I’d like to express my gratitude to Rick Henry, author of The Extermination of Superman, and @vincentzeal, author of Superman vs. the Vice Lord. Their writing and body of work have been a significant source of inspiration. Special thanks to Drake Grant for his ideas and help in revising the story.

Chapter 1: An Ominous Dream

Thousands of miles from any place humans could reach, a massive crystalline, pyramid-shaped structure stands in solitude on a vast ice sheet. Surrounded by towering snow-covered mountains that shield it from the blizzards raging in every direction, this immense crystal formation has remained untouched and unknown for years, at least as far as we're aware. Its flawless triangular shape makes it clear that it was not built by human hands. Hundreds of conical crystals, each about 5 meters wide and 40 meters tall, rise from the ground, forming a shell-like wall around the structure. They reflect sunlight and the icy glow of snow and icicles, gleaming like diamonds on a frozen crown.

It's a shame that no man on earth had the chance to appreciate the beauty of it except…

''Agggggh… Hmmm…''

A wet, echoing moan filled the empty crystal palace. The crystal walls reflected a distorted, writhing figure in blurry red and blue, shifting like a kaleidoscope, moving up and down in sync with the rhythm of the moans.

Oh, there he was. A towering 6'4'' man, built like a statue of pure muscle, lay sprawled on a massive crystal bed draped in silver silk sheets. Every inch of his overly manly physique was wrapped in a skintight royal blue spandex suit that stretched from his neck to his toes, emblazoned with the iconic ''S'' symbol on his broad chest. His body radiated power—the fabric clings to him so tightly it outlines every ripple of his chiseled muscles. His chest rises like two sculpted slabs of marble. But not like those steroid-addicted bodybuilders, they are pumped and firm, but still somehow gave you a cuddly and warm feeling. With the spandex clinging so tightly on his chest, even the subtle outline of his firm, two cute nipples were visible beneath the fabric. They sat perfectly cantered on his broad pecs, adding a surprising softness to his otherwise overwhelmingly powerful physique.

His arms were nothing short of awe-inspiring, thick, vascular biceps bulge with raw strength. His thighs were strong, solid, and brimming with power, the spandex stretching over them like a second skin, tracing every contour of his sculpted quads and hamstrings. A pair of glossy, bright red leather boots gripped his calves, ankles, and feet with such precision that even the arch of his soles was visible through the smooth, form-fitting material.

And his red cape. It bunched beneath him, highlighting the sheen of his blue suit and the bulging muscles beneath, a perfect contrast to the crystalline surroundings.

As the crystal walls let the refraction of daylights go inside, a trace of nearly white reflection of polar sunlight converged on his spandex skin stretching from his chest to his instep but being cut off in the middle by a bright yellow belt and a pair of dazzling red briefs. His red briefs, the symbol of hope, the avatar of the greatest manhood. It looked even more luxurious than the fabric of his blue spandex, so silky that can make people mistaken it was coated with a light layer of lubricating oil, so tight that covered every inch of his majestic crotch and cup his splendid scrotum. However, no matter how hard this piece of fabric tried to hide his assets, all it could do was to outline the contours of a 6-inch-long, 3.5-inch-thick, half soft, half hard, alien shaft and two testicles.

As his strong right hand casually rubbed over the glans of this wondrous pillar-like thing through silky spandex, a smile started to appear on his handsome face. His eyes were closed, sleeping, with his eyelashes gently touching the lower eyelid. Even he had a look of soft angel, no less than a boy Venus, it didn't mean that he doesn't have a tall nose, an angular jaw, and a cleft chin like the Greek demigod Hercules or a golden age Hollywood movie star. When his left hand unconsciously moved above his stunning pecs and brushes over the nipples, the hair curl atop his forehead began to tremble with his body quivering. In the crystal mirror directly above him, the image reflected the greatest and most beautiful creature in the world unapologetically wearing a suit of revealing blue tights and bright briefs, sleeping.

In his dream, the demigod muttered ''I am…Superman ''.

Yes, meet Superman, Kal-El. The man of steel. The big blue boy scout. The last son of Krypton.

What was Superman dreaming of right now? No, let's not disturb his sweet time. We can talk about his dream later.

To be frank, it's not every day you get to see Superman shamelessly pleasuring himself while asleep. For many people, it's easier to imagine Clark Kent as Superman than to imagine Superman doing something so animalistic. But even with the former, it's almost impossible to make any connection with the greatest hero on earth with Clark Kent, a kind, righteous, sometimes bumbling even cringey reporter from Daily Planet in Metropolis. Yes, he wears the tights and boots underneath his daily business suit. Unknown to anyone else, Clark had a peculiar thrill when he slipped on his business suit, knowing the bright, tight spandex of his costume lay hidden beneath. There was something oddly arousal about the contrast—how he, the world's most powerful hero, could walk unnoticed through a crowd as just a clumsy, bumbling reporter. He didn't admit it or he probably never would, but cosplaying that clown-like inept wimp did give him a tingle in his pants. Every time he became a laughingstock in public, that boner hidden under layers of fabric told it all. Besides, the thought that no one had any clue that underneath his dress shirt and tie, he was wearing his iconic red briefs and skin-tight suit gave him a secret rush. The Kryptonian suit is so tight that can press his large genital and cause slight discomfort when he must sit through the whole day typing. But somehow, he didn't mind it at all and loved his daily practice, wearing that overly tight spandex 24/7.

You see, it's the only thing he can have for himself. The sensation from the pressure on his crotch.

Superman rarely gave himself a moment to relax, but that didn't mean he wasn't still Clark Kent at heart. He kept that pure, honest soul of a country boy, always kind and true. Still, even with all his heroics, he couldn't ignore the growing stir of desires and needs inside him. They were there, lurking, waiting for a chance to be acknowledged.

Yes, everyone has their own needs for Superman, but when it comes to the needs of Superman, only he knew how hard he had to fight back. Mind-boggling to the human on earth but common sense to Kryptonians, Superman, same as every male on Krypton, has prolific testicles and a reproduction system that could drive any human insane.

Growing up, Clark Kent often felt like the universe had a cruel sense of humor. On the one hand, his Kryptonian father, Jor-El, had left behind a legacy of impossibly rigid lessons about purity of heart and body—no shortcuts, no indulgences, no exceptions. Clark learned, through countless holographic lectures in the Fortress of Solitude, that his so-called ''Supercum'' (a term he'd begrudgingly coined for himself) was the source of his immense power. Enhanced by the Sun's yellow radiation, it was what made him extraordinary. But there was a terrifying catch: if he ever released it recklessly, he risked losing his abilities—or worse, his life. Self-control wasn't just a virtue; it was survival.

On the other hand, Jonathan Kent, his adoptive dad, was just as strict, always going on about self-control and how heroes had to set the ultimate example, even in private. Back to the time when Clark first discovered his true identity and put on the Superman suit, Jonathan caught him standing in front of the mirror in the middle of night, dressed in his boy scout costume, playing with his young bulge, feeling the touch from his own hands rubbing again his own peephole covered under red fabric. That night, Jonathan froze in the doorway, stunned by what he saw. Clark, overwhelmed by shame and tears, crumpled under the weight of his father's disapproval. Clark's shame was instant and so overwhelming. But it wasn't his father's anger or stern lecture on responsibility that left a scar—it was the look of sheer disappointment and disgust in Jonathan's eyes. That moment, more than anything, etched itself into Clark's memory, shaping his relentless quest to suppress his own humanity for the sake of an impossible ideal.

Since then, he was a deeply broken-hearted man. At nearly 30, Superman had never been in love, never had a romantic partner, and was pretty sure he never would. Over time, Superman's constant effort to suppress his desires slowly turned into something else—narcissism. When he had a moment alone, he'd catch himself admiring his own reflection, spending longer than he'd care to admit running his hands over his sculpted muscles. His physique was a work of art, and in a way, it felt like the only thing he could truly connect with. He flexed his arm, he kissed his ''S'' shield, he licked his red shinning boots, and he played his erected alien stick with his firm hands.

This self-admiration gradually grew into something more. He started noticing how drawn he was to other strong, muscular figures same as him—especially the well-built athletes he'd seen in passing. What began as harmless admiration turned into a bit of a lustful crush on strength, muscle, and the young throbbing dicks containing the white creamy substance, which almost took his soul away even he just thought about it. Sure, he'd had his moments of secret voyeurism, flying unseen around the globe, lurking around countless locker rooms and being fascinated by the bodies of college wrestlers, gym enthusiasts, and water polo players. With his X-ray vision, he had a front-row seat to their toned physiques. He'd often linger, curious, watching them without anyone knowing.

Yet, despite his search—across continents and through countless encounters—he never found anyone who could match his own power. No one came close. The yearning for connection, for someone who could understand the weight of his existence, grew more intense with every passing day. But the fear of revealing his desires, of exposing his vulnerability, kept him locked in isolation, trapped between his overwhelming need for companionship and the overwhelming responsibility of defending justice and hope as he carried as Superman.

Over time, Superman's deep ache of desire slowly transformed into something darker, more twisted, and increasingly dangerous.

It was almost like the vision haunting him now in his dream: a thick steel necklace that caught the light in an unsettling, cold way, with a green alien stone attached to it, glowing with an eerie, ominous fluorescence.

Kryptonite.

It was a gift he would never forget. Nearly three years ago, Superman encountered his most diabolical enemy yet: Lex Luthor, the powerful businessman who ran Metropolis's most influential corporation, LexCorp. It was the first time Superman had realized that a simple human, armed with nothing but a small piece of green rock, could actually threaten his life.

Secretly, Lex Luthor had acquired a piece of green meteorite from NASA, claiming it was a terrestrial material from Superman's home planet, which he later identified as Kryptonite. Over the course of six months, Lex brought together the brightest minds on Earth—scientists and engineers who worked tirelessly around the clock to understand the true nature of this mysterious substance. After much trial and error, Lex was able to purify the Kryptonite and, through extensive testing, discovered its true power.

The radiation from Kryptonite didn't just weaken Superman—it altered the very mechanisms of his sperms. Instead of enhancing his strength, the Kryptonite's radiation caused Superman's sperms to turn on him, attacking his organs, draining his energy, and inflicting excruciating pain. If he were exposed for too long, the result would be catastrophic—his cells would begin to break down, leading to the collapse of his body. The potential consequences were more severe and shocking than even Lex had anticipated.

''Your very own necklace, Superman. I bet it's the perfect gift—something that almost makes you feel at home.'' The words echoed, a haunting fragment of memory, as the scene solidified in Superman's dream. It was Lex Luthor's voice, sharp and mocking, slicing through the haze.

In the dream, memories hit him with vivid, unbearable clarity. It was Luthor's dungeon, and there was the Kryptonite necklace placed inside a lead box. He could feel it all again—the sickening nausea spreading through his body, the overwhelming pain that surged with every pulse of his being. He remembered staggering back, his instincts screaming at him to flee, to get as far away as possible from Luthor's trap. But his legs refused to obey, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Fear took hold, paralyzing him as his limbs quaked uncontrollably.

The humiliation was crushing. Desperation replaced his once-unshakable resolve, and a single, shameful thought consumed him: to beg. To plead for mercy. To kneel. Anything to make it stop—to put an end to Luthor's cruel game. His knees buckled, knocking together awkwardly beneath his trembling tights, each step faltering.

''Mind over muscles'', Lex had said, waving the glowing green stone in his hands, grinning as he placed the chain around Superman's neck. Now, he even couldn't tell if it was dream or reality. Although sleeping sound, he literally felt like a bullet piercing through his chest as the Kryptonite necklace touched on his skintight spandex costumes, making him cry out like a salty dog just got run over by a truck. Powerless then, he had felt Luthor's hands all over his body, touching him over his spandex, teasing him, toying with him, like jiggling human-size jello. As the criminal master dragged him along, Superman had sensed that his little Supes in his briefs was howling, growing, and creaming. With no warning, Lex took hold of Superman's nipples, tweaking them through the smooth spandex. A strong pinch made the big boy scout cry out a disgraceful scream. Then, a strong cupping hands wrapped around superman's balls. Almost like a sponge, as Lex Luthor squeezed with his nails sunk into that freaky alien's ballsack, Superman's peehole started leaking precum like a spread of pearls forming on top of the red spandex.

The echo of humiliating moans and agonized screams reverberated through Superman's dream. As the dream unfolded, the scene shifted, growing darker and more vivid. Lex, ever the master of manipulation, gripped Superman's red cape with a sinister smile curling at the edges of his lips. But what fills Kal-El's mind was something else: the overwhelming sensation, the long-awaited gratification he was feeling when Lex played him, belittled him, and toyed him.

Without warning, Lex yanked the Man of Steel toward the edge of a massive, ominous pool. The surface shimmered in the dim light; its contents unknown but exuding an unsettling stench. Superman's pulse quickened, his breath shallow and ragged. Every fiber of his being screamed to fight back, to resist, but his strength was sapped, drained by the relentless presence of Kryptonite.

Suddenly, Lex strangled Superman with his iconic red cape around his neck. As Superman opened his mouth to the fullest, trying to grasp some air, Lex pulled out a 7-inch rob-shaped Kryptonite stone from his back and stuffed it into Superman's throat directly with no hesitation. White foam started to overflow from Superman's mouth as tears running down his face. His fully erect penis was throbbing, pushing against his blue tights and ref brief, the wet patch of precum now bigger and more obvious than ever with white foam bubbling on the shining fabrics.

The faint murmurs filled the dungeon, each sound a grim mix of agony and climax. His body had grown heavy with exhaustion. The struggle to stay conscious became unbearable as the seconds dragged on. His pupils dilated, his vision blurring, and with each passing moment, his strength faded until there was nothing left to fight with.

Then, with a final, relentless shove, his nemesis pushed him forward, a move that sent Superman reeling. He tried to look back, eyes wide with fear, as his heart raced in desperation. But it was too late. Lex's boot connected with his hip, forcing him further toward the edge. With nothing to hold onto, Superman tumbled into the depths of the pool of waste, his body plunging like a stone, sinking into the dark, cold waters below.

… Why would Superman have such a dream? How will his fate change because of it?

Stay tuned for the second chapter, updated at the same time next week...

[else-creates]

Nobody Can Help You. Prologue C: A History of Port Xavier

Superhumans have existed for decades. Superheroes are a simply a specialized division of law enforcement answering to the Department of Superhuman Integration. As a result Superheroes exist to protect the status quo, serving a government and the politicians' wealthy donors through a legal monopoly on force. To the average Superhero, it's not about saving people... It's just a job.

Who protects the people in a world where the heroes have been bought?

Who do you call for help when the heroes don't work overtime?

Who stands up for the rights of the people when the heroes side with riot police to squash dissent?

In Port Xavier that job falls to Cassie 'Culverin' Queensbury and the rest of her team 'The Nobodies' because when the heroes aren't Super then... NOBODY CAN HELP YOU

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61868650/chapters/158517328

(I don't know why the link isn't posting properly)

This is the final part of the prologues. It is admittedly shorter than the other two by far but it does set things up nicely for Chapter 01, which will be posted on Friday 10th of January.

[daily-table21]

Video/Short: Florida Man Friday w/ Special Guest Ben Brainard

Status: Public

Link: Florida Man Friday w/ Special Guest Ben Brainard #shorts - YouTube

Date Posted: September 18th 2020