Maxim

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About Maxim

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  • Birthday 03/01/1922

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  1. Wednesday Night War | Official Chat Thread

    Dream not wearing anything underneath is making me anxious.
  2. Wednesday Night War | Official Chat Thread

    Her going back to the platinum blonde was the right move.
  3. HBW '19 | Online

    hbw summerslam fallout.   Holly West makes triumphant return at HBW's Summerslam event ...but at whose expense?   Already heralded as one of HBW's best events for the year, Summerslam was not without its shocks, twists, turns (and-returns!), and in the spirit of big returns was none other than HBW's resident vessel of cheer and bubbliness, Holly West, who made a surprising return after a debilitating shoulder injury.   Holly wasted no time in taking to the mic and addressing the enthused HBW universe, who gave her the warmest welcome and blew the ceiling off with cheers, proclaiming her goals of picking up where she'd left off and making her strides towards the top gold. All of that momentum quickly came crashing, however, when Holly was ambushed by on-again, off-again frenemy, Jasmine. In what was an uncomfortable, gruesome attack, both for the HBW universe to have witnessed and Holly to have endured, Jasmine unleashed a fury of irrepressible rage onto the unsuspecting superstar. She then swiped the same microphone that Holly had claimed only seconds before, to vengefully proclaim her feelings of being overshadowed and undervalued, and having felt that Holly's intention of returning at Summerslam was purely out of spite and to try to eclipse her own, as she, too, had made her return to form following an unspecified period of absence, just a week prior. --- HBW's resident backstage interviewer, Ireti O'Loron was able to catch up with Holly, who was spotted heading to the trainer's office, with plans of nursing her very recently-repaired shoulder. Ireti: Hey, Holly. It's a shame how things played out out there tonight. Were you surprised at all to see Jasmine, of all people, devise an attack against you like that? Holly: *humorless chuckle* Honestly, I probably should've been. And you know what, maybe for those first few seconds, I was. Until I realized that this was all just typical Jasmine; always clawing to be at the center of the attention, always seeking some sort of validation. She had a choke-hold on the Heartcore division for years on end, but the very second she lost that glory, she stuck herself into some self-imposed exile out of embarrassment. I don't know what gripe she thinks she has with me. *laughs* It's so funny to me. I could've sworn we'd moved on from that all childish pettiness of the past year --- that she'd forgiven me for my indiscretions and we would've been able to move forward. But this here has made me realize that I've grown sick of this hot-and-cold 'friendship' --- having to walk on eggshells because you don't want to pull a trigger that might ~offend someone. It's toxic and crippling. Ireti: Not to play off of your choice of words so crudely, but speaking of crippling, I'm sure the HBW Universe is well-aware of the hideous injury you suffered some months ago. What's the status of your condition now and when can fans expect to see you back in action, especially given this recent impeding circumstance? Holly: Well, I've actually been dealing with a gnarly shoulder injury that, at first, I had identified amateurishly as a separation. That was until I'd been informed that it was actually dislocation that I was dealing with, and that took me out for 12 weeks. But after all of my rest and rehab, I can say that I'm fully healed and can get back to kicking ass as soon as possible. Obviously, it's a bit banged up now and physicians are telling me that what happened out there tonight can't happen again, otherwise I could be put at serious risk. But for the most part, I think I'm okay. But that's what bothers me so much. Jasmine KNOWS how important it was for me to power through and fully recover from my injury; witnessed my pain and tears during those last nights after rehab. Heck, we just had a long conversation on the phone not 3 weeks ago -- a short while before she was scheduled to make her return -- and it was all just good times. That's what hurts me the most. Ireti: Switching gears a bit, what were your thoughts on the recent development with another girl you considered a close friend, one Blake Storm? It's safe to say that we're still sort of shaken by how that played out. Holly: I don't know what exactly is spreading in the water around here, Ireti, and I'm not wasting my time trying to figure it out. I have such fond memories of the three of us travelling together, moving between city to city with nothing but laughs and good vibes; memories of us kicking ass at Survivor Series last year and strengthening our sisterly bond. And while I laid there in that ring getting my ass handled in that ring earlier on tonight, I could only ponder why none of my 'friends' could be bothered to come to my rescue. But what I've realized in this industry is that fickle concepts of 'friendship' and 'sisterhood' mean jack when someone is dangling a golden ticket in front of your eyes. There are no allies in this game. It's about looking out for #1. And I promise you, miss Hasbine is going to find out exactly what that means.
  4. Sebastian Kane | Mortal | Matt Damon

    #allofmypride { height: 520px; width: 420px; background: white; outline: 1px solid #e59277; position: relative; margin: 20px auto 3px; box-shadow: 1px 2px 3px #e59277; overflow: hidden; } .aomp-image { width: 170px; height: 400px; position: absolute; background-size: cover; top: 85px; left: 0px; filter: grayscale(0.7); } .aomp-text { font-family: libre franklin; color: #000; position: absolute; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; padding-right: 5px; width: 195px; height: 400px; font-size: 11px; right: 25px; top: 85px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 1px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background: none!important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background: #000 !important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text b { background: #e2cccf; font-weight: 400;} .aomp-title { font-family: raleway; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; position: absolute; color: #e59277; letter-spacing: 2px; width: 380px; top: 38px; left: 20px; }   BOBBY & sebastian | goodfellas To be very brief, I thought to reach out to you regarding a potential allyship. It would appear that as of this post, Bobby's right-hand man is missing in action, so to speak. And I feel as though that dynamic is necessary in order to ground him (and flesh him out beyond his romance with Emma), given that he could be quite chaotic. While Sebastian is very similar in that regard, it would seem (the words hotheaded, passionate and impulsive are synonymous with Bobby as well), having someone who understands him -- someone he could turn to, without judgement -- would do much to keep him sane. Most notably, both seem to work (or in Bobby's case, used to work) under Dawson Clarke, within the criminal underworld. I'd say perhaps they haven't met as of yet, what with Bobby spending a chunk of time (five years to be exact) in prison and abandoning the life of crime upon release. But now that he's being pulled back into the world due to the debts he owes, he's partnered with Sebastian and the two form a bond in spite of their different standings within their profession. Anyway, I'll stop there for now. Come find me if any of this is of interest. Take it easy! LINK TO SHIPPER MONTY
  5. #liwmitracker { width: 500px; background: #fff; height: 400px; position: relative; margin: 20px auto; border: 1px solid #ccc; outline: 1px solid #e59277; outline-offset: 10px; font-family: roboto; color: #191919; line-height: 170%; font-size: 11px; } #liwmitracker picture { height: 400px; width: 200px; position: absolute; left: 0px; top: 0px; background-size: cover; display: block; border-right: 1px solid #e59277; } #liwmitracker name { font-family: roboto; font-weight: 900; width: 400px; height: 20px; font-size: 25px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #bababa; position: absolute; text-align: left; transform: rotate(-90deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(-90deg); top: 190px; left: 9px; display: block; letter-spacing: 10px; } #liwmitracker infobox { width: 245px; height: 360px; position: absolute; top: 20px; right: 20px; overflow: auto; font-family: roboto; font-size: 9px; line-height: 170%; text-align: justify; padding-right: 5px; color: #191919; display: block; } #liwmitracker h1 { color: #e59277; position: relative; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: roboto; display: block; width: auto; text-align: right; font-weight: 900; margin:10px 0px; letter-spacing:10px; border-bottom: 1px solid #bababa; } #liwmitracker a { color: #e59277; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: roboto; font-weight: 700; display: block; } #liwmitracker a:before { background: #e59277; height: 5px; width: 5px; border-radius: 100%; content: ""; display: inline-block; margin: 0px 5px; } #liwmitracker infobox::-webkit-scrollbar{width:1px} #liwmitracker infobox::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb{border:none!important;background:#bababa!important} #liwmitracker infobox::-webkit-scrollbar-track{background:none!important;border:none!important} Robert Carter II Active Thread Title, Canon Month, Year n/a Thread Title, Canon Month, Year n/a Thread Title, Canon Month, Year n/a Complete Crash Into Me, January 2000 While out for New Year festivities with his best friend Andrew, Bobby becomes entangled with a sexy, angelic young dancer, leading way to a wild night he was not anticipating, and won't ever forget.Thread Title, Canon Month, Year n/a Thread Title, Canon Month, Year n/a Relationships Emma De Angelo (Romantic) The young exotic dancer who he met while out for his New Year festivities. Upon meeting her, he found him suddenly and unexpectedly enamored, but remained too stubborn to break through his bad boy Casanova character and pursue her beyond a steamy sexual encounter. Still, he can't quite get her off his mind.Andrew Avila (Platonic) The closest thing to a family member Bobby has left in his life, their impenetrable bond spanning years now. They say opposites attract, and this perhaps couldn't be better applied than it is here. (pre-canon)Robert Carter (Familial, deceased) The late father of Bobby Carter. An army veteran, Robert Sr. was Bobby's greatest hero, up until the moment he lost his life amidst a gang attack, right as a young Bobby watched on. It was this event that drastically changed Bobby's life forever, leading him to join the army himself; the traumatizing events ironically forcing him into a criminal lifestyle, then down a path of self-destruction and later placing him on the current path of redemption. (pre-canon)Katherine Carter (Familial) The matriarch of the Carter clan, who Bobby lost contact with during his tumultuous years within the criminal underworld, but would make a small effort to reconnect with upon his release from prison. These days, their relationship is rocky due to the resentment he'd harbor following his father's passing. (pre-canon)Name Description here MONTY
  6. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL At that moment, Bobby had become embroiled in a mental war as to whether he should actively set out to pursue the dangerously enigmatic, yet shockingly transparent, charmer with the tight body and an even firmer mind. At this point, Bobby had no idea as to whether it was his fortune, or misfortune, to have become so wrapped with the vaguely mysterious woman tonight. He had already rationalized that all of the mayhem and catastrophe that had plagued the night were of an indirect consequence of his decision to have become so comfortably wrapped up with the woman. Yet, he knew he would forever regret if he allowed this stripper (a fucking stripper!) to just up and dance out of his life completely, but that was exactly what he’d settled on doing. He’d let her go. At this particular moment, it was the status of his incapacitated friend that was the highest priority. On that note, he’d set out to keep in close proximity with the ambulance transporting one of the closest things to a brother he had ever known in his lifetime. FIN. MONTY  
  7. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL Bobby and Emma both made their way towards the exit—opening the door that temporary ensconced their own covert reverie once more, thrusting them back into reality. As Bobby trailed in tow of Emma, who’d begun guiding them back to the forum that they initially met, he caught sight of the enforcer by the door that was likely the one to have alerted them on the elapse of their private time together, weighing him down with what was possibly the least intimidating sneer, to which he returned with a toothy, asinine smirk of his own, fingers to the forehead in a mock salute as he made a swivel to continue towards his intended path. Emma, meanwhile, seemed to stiffen up like his own aching, bundled shaft, though she remained indifferent toward the fabled doorman. It was unclear what state her mind was left in, but it was instinctive for Bobby to wash away any feeling of worry, doubt or shame. He sped up behind her and would hook his hand with hers, interlocking their fingers as she’d tremble at his touch. Turning her attention toward the earnest smile he offered, their eyes reflect off one another, Emma’s own glowing in a way he hadn't noticed prior. After the revelations made and the intimacy shared between them, her pulchritude was far more astonishing than before. And he couldn’t quite explain his own state of mind, the destination it traveled being completely foreign to him. The sudden patter of his heartbeat syncopates with the encroaching footsteps of a sketchy figure, who Bobby couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity for. His brows would trench while the man throws himself onto Emma, the sleazebag causing immediate discomfort in the body of Bobby’s lover, in turn igniting the flame of fury in Bobby himself. “Ayo, ease the fuck off her,” Bobby growls with a stern, clenched jaw, flexing it repeatedly whilst he looks on coldly. “Who the fuck are you? Her bodyguard? No wait, you must be her boyfriend? Hey, maybe you shouldn’t let your chick be a stripper if you don’t want men all over her. Now run off while I take her to the back. ‘Cause see, I love me some fresh meat; I bet she does too,” the impudent man crudely provokes, grasping at his crotch and shaking it before Bobby with a smirk. The scenery before Bobby transitions into a wash of red as he continued to look on, watching the asshole write his death wish the moment he leans into the nape of Emma’s neck to plant his greasy lips on her, despite her resistance. “Oh, so you’re a cock tease, huh? Think you’re too good for me? As if I can’t get any slut like you in this place,” the heckling continues. As Emma attempts to force herself from the assertions, Bobby steps back in, this time physically. “Lookit, you piece of shit, I already told you once to get the fuck off her!” Bobby would roar out with booming bass, gripping the asshole’s neck with both firm hands and slamming him against a table top with bone crushing force. Bobby’s hands tighten around the man, cutting off any circulation of oxygen, then he’d release one palm and hammer down a flurry of disfiguring blows into his opponent’s jaw, as a pool of blood fills the mouth. It appeared the beast was uncaged. Bobby’s chest expands and collapses with his heightened emotion, but from the corner of his eye he notices another shady figure approaching. Suddenly, cold, titanium steel dances across the expand of the back of his head. Luckily, thanks to instinct and his penchant for always being on the qui vive, Bobby managed to catch an inkling of the hostile presence at the very last moment, thus avoiding the full brunt of the butt of the gun. In spite of that, he’d still been struck and, as such, had dealt considerable enough damage to debilitate him momentarily. His ears would ring while he regained consciousness, to a rattled crowd and intervening club bouncers. Each second from this point forward whisks together as one, the hothead overcome with rage upon slow recognition of the aggressors at play. Bobby couldn’t conclude whether he actually recognized those features from a time before, or if this was just another unsubstantiated occurrence of déjà vu. It couldn’t be, he thought, until interrupted by a left hook to the side of his brow, setting him off balance and back to his knees. Brazen still, Bobby would return with a jab of his own, puncturing both the second aggressor’s cheek and his own knuckles. With his wiles, he’d then dodge a charging rhinoceros of a bouncer and allow them to take control of his enemies on his behalf. The blood runs from both his brow and his hand as he’d frantically look around through the commotion to find the light of Emma’s eyes, but he flinches at the loud sound of gunfire, at least seven times if he were stable enough to count. The patrons surrounding the brawl all panic and duck beneath any form of furniture they could find, including Emma, who Bobby would lock sight onto and tackle out of harm’s way as the club bouncers continue to battle the growing crowd of raucous men. Giving Emma a once-over to ensure that she was unscathed and unharmed, he ensures that she was at least tucked away and well-hidden from the chaotic episode playing out in the normally unflappable establishment. Bobby still hadn’t quite discerned whether he just happened to stumble into the joint on the worst possible night imaginable or what, but he was a bit pissed knowing that he hadn’t prepared to spend his weekend being shaken down at a typically mediocre strip joint—by the strippers themselves, perhaps, but anything otherwise would pose an issue. Reassuring that Emma was secured and out of the direct path of anything volatile, Bobby grabs her hand and peeks out just in time to find an opening for escape. “Run. Don’t look back. I’ll be right behind you,” he orders to an immediately obedient Emma, hoping he could at least first gain some insight or clarity on what was morphing into suspicion regarding the situation. He’d then sneak back into the scene, taking hold of a distracted rogue, brandishing what Bobby would later be able to identify as a 9mm Colt Defender. It wasn’t long before he had the guy’s arm twisted and wrenched behind his back, effectively disarming the bastard, and it’s then he impulsively presses the gun right onto the man’s forehead the moment the man turns to him. “I see you still got it,” croaks the once stranger, who Bobby would realize was an old cohort, the figure unflinching, with a wide painted grin. “But take this as your warning. Old boy has been looking for you, and he's got eyes on the street. No more hiding.” The man reveals another gun and pointed it back to Bobby, before chuckling and backing away from the scene with the rest of the extinguished goons. Shocked beyond measure and jaw clenching once more, Bobby’s hand goes limp and he drops the gun to the floor. He was caught in a daze, the reveal of the life he was trying to escape having fallen back into his lap, rattling him inside out. Cries for help snap him back into reality, though, when he’d turn toward a club exit and spot his best friend Andrew clutching at his arm, barely able to stand. He rushes over without hesitation, and props Andrew up, surrounded by upturned tables, broken glass, and quivering bodies. “What the fuck?!” he pants, holding his hand over the crimson spilling from the bullet wound. “Just stay still and breathe. You’ll be alright, buddy.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Time now having sailed forward, Bobby stood between a quiet Emma, a still spirited Andrew, and the paramedic tending to the latter, Bobby looking over his mates—old and new—like a guard dog. His stoic expression is broken, though, him incapable of holding his smile in reaction to both his Andrew's well-being and the maintained jovial, goofy nature throughout it all. God, what would he do if he lost him? Subsequently, he turns toward the end of the line and offers a word to Emma to clear his mind in that regard. “You good? I’m sorry for how fucking crazy it got in there, which was one hundred percent my fault,” he expresses, voice tranquil and soothing. MONTY @Mariah.  
  8. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL Her scent is heady and sweet—a soft mix of lavender and vanilla—drawing Bobby’s nose and mouth deeper into the nape of her neck, down to her collar bone. With a watering mouth, he breaths onto her dewy skin, then would stamp a trail of urgent kisses along his path to the swell of her breasts, a pleased smirk wiping against her as he’d suck at the skin to leave his marking. His fingertips swipe between her thighs and over her crevice, collecting the moisture that’s begun to pool for him, and to the sensation she hisses out in sheer ecstasy. Fuck, Emma “the angel” was impossible to resist. And Bobby was tantalized beyond compare, feeling like a teenage boy exploring the endless beauty of a woman for the first time, though his actions continue to prove that of an expert. His cock stirs and strains painfully beneath the elastic of his briefs—half its length and its glazed head peaking out, over his flexed abs—as he’d arrive at her fruitful bust, her nipple pointed and rimming the seam of his lips. He begins to cast circles over it with his tongue to tease both himself and his lover, then feasts upon it, molding his mouth with her perfect shape. Then, with his careful hands, he unhooks her garter, sweeps underneath her to pull down her lace white panties, and clamps onto her generous backside to tilt her hips so she’s at the perfect angle for him to continue to cater to her fantasies. It feels like an eternity before his mouth finds her silken skin again, first teeth with a nip at the inside of her thigh, then making his way with suctioning kisses toward the pearly pink apex. With a high pitched breath from Emma, he’d burrow himself deeper and deeper, flitting his tongue between her succulent lips and against her clit. Guided by the motion of her hips and her sounds of ecstasy, he offers more pressure to her warm anatomy and is rewarded with more wetness, moaning into her center as he drinks her in, sweet as sin. His hands still firm on her ass, he groans as her juices coat his tongue, her taste making him dizzy with desire. Then, he’d toss her legs over his broad, muscular shoulders as his passion and vigor increases, it now having become clear with his salted drink that the peak of his lover was nearing. Suddenly, a loud, pounding knock provides percussion to the notes Emma sang out, interrupting the dalliance. Bobby would try to continue on, but his paramour had already escaped the dreamscape before he did, her now frantically trying to piece herself back together after Bobby had completely unraveled her. “Lemme guess: the fucking doorman? I guess my time is up,” he’d snigger, then make his way back for another kiss as the knocking continues, this time with a deep, blustery voice calling to the pair of them beyond the wooden barrier. MONTY @Mariah.  
  9. I mean, seeing her huff and puff her way through that throwaway tag match last year started to get a bit uncomfortable after a bit, but if she feels up to task physically, then go for gold. Of course, the only viable result I can see here is Charlotte going over and this lending credit to the assertation of her being GOAT.  
  10. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL Returning before Emma, Bobby leans in slightly and murmurs into her ear with an overwhelming swagger and bravado. “Just lemme know if you’re not comfortable or when you want me to stop.” His left eye winks slowly, just above the appearance of a sexy, puckish smirk, and he glides away again as the tantalizing song picks up in volume, seasoning the sultry, saucy air. He puts about a step and a half between himself and where Emma is sitting, and waits a beat before he makes any movement. It was equal parts a notion for intense dramatic effect, but also (perhaps most essentially) a ruse to conceal his own slight reservation of what he was about to pull. Bobby wasn’t exactly the kind of guy that someone could consider hard-nosed or accuse him of taking himself too seriously. If anything, he feels as if he’s the one people tend to ring up when seeking ‘wild times’. Half a pint of Henny in the system, and it’s game over. That brings him to the root of his current issue, as, for whatever reason, being acutely aware of his actions gives him more anxiety than ever. But none of it stems from any genuine fear of emulating the beauty at her own craft and potentially embarrassing himself—rather a fear of coming on far too strong for the amount of time they’ve known each other and likely scaring her away, thus… embarrassing himself in the process. He'd brave on, though, wetting his lips and bowing his head slightly as he reaches down to undo his belt, swaying his stiff hips to loosen them. Finding his rhythm and growing in confidence, he pulls his shirt from beneath his pants and slowly teases rolling it off, endowing a peak at his full set of eight immaculately carved abs to the angel across the way. His sight locks to her and her expression of arousal fuels his own; fuck, she was driving him crazy. The fabric of his top stretches with each tug of his firm hands, then he'd manage to pull it over his head, bearing his fit, muscular torso. He grinds and rolls his abdomen forward—confounded by his natural talent (he did think himself to be of many)—thereafter dragging out his belt and working on the seal of his pants. Glancing back toward Emma, he playfully pops his pectorals in repetition with another smirk, adding his patent humor to the libido. Slow steps lead him closer to the object of his desire, his pants falling lower and lower with each foot forward, exposing his white Calvins underneath, hugging against his thick, stern glutes. He'd then take the belt and place it over Emma's neck, pulling her into his body heat to face the continued winding of his hips. His muscles cavernous, he takes Emma's hand to guide her along it for exploration, running from his prominent pecs, down his trenched abs, and arriving to massage his large package, begging to be unwrapped. It's then he succumbs to his drive and forwards himself, grazing his lips on hers. Each maneuver serves to carefully widen the gap and introduce his warm tongue, the filiform atop the pink body part massaging Emma's. He climbs on her, still rolling his hips, creating friction against her lap with his hardening length. He'd next move his mouth down the edge of her jaw, to the nape of her neck where he'd suction continuously until the sound of her moans flush out the music ringing through his ear drums. Shifting focus to her ear, back across her chin and down to her collar bone, he'd look to her for permission to undo her robe, which she grants with nod yes and an anticipatory trembling body. "Wow," he whispers upon getting sight of her ample breasts up close, then he'd back away from his meal despite his ravenous hunger, and continues to cater to his woman's sense of sight. His loosely fit leather pants now below his knees, he turns to show off his back—flexing it for Emma—then draws on the elastic of his boxer briefs to give view of his round, plump ass. He chuckles against his shortened breath, then he'd turn back with a smile, the front of his briefs he pulled against to preview his long, thick shaft. His cock stands firm, fighting for escape against the cotton as the blood continues to suffuse it, showing how badly he wanted to bury himself in her. "You can grab it if you want," he mutters lowly, his chest expanding and collapsing noticeably, and his eyes projecting focus and determination. MONTY @Mariah.  
  11. August Keller | Apollo | Leonardo DiCaprio

    #allofmypride { height: 520px; width: 420px; background: white; outline: 1px solid #e59277; position: relative; margin: 20px auto 3px; box-shadow: 1px 2px 3px #e59277; overflow: hidden; } .aomp-image { width: 170px; height: 400px; position: absolute; background-size: cover; top: 85px; left: 0px; filter: grayscale(0.7); } .aomp-text { font-family: libre franklin; color: #000; position: absolute; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; padding-right: 5px; width: 195px; height: 400px; font-size: 11px; right: 25px; top: 85px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 1px; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-track { background: none!important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background: #000 !important; border: none !important; } .aomp-text b { background: #e2cccf; font-weight: 400;} .aomp-title { font-family: raleway; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; position: absolute; color: #e59277; letter-spacing: 2px; width: 380px; top: 38px; left: 20px; }   Two Princes | August & Bobby Playing off the above friendship between August and Andrew, as well as August's tryst with Emma, I thought to throw Bobby in the mix somehow? To start, Andrew is Bobby's best friend—his brother, better yet. Bobby would take a bullet for that kid, any day, any time. So when problems arise between August and Andrew, naturally Bobby would insert himself into the scenario. But it's not as simple as Bobby playing henchman. I wanna suggest that Bobby and August are well-acquainted or even have a weird, casual friendship? Perhaps they'd hit it off a couple times at a bar, exchanged some good laughs and grown a certain respect for one another; Bobby positioning himself as sort of the archetypal, rough-edged, high school jock befriending the quiet, scrawny kid, and looking out for him on occasion. Basically, Bobby thinks this pretty boy is kinda a loser, a dork and a wet blanket, but enjoys his company and enjoys teasing him even more. He also thinks it's cool as fuck that August has slept around with as many hot chicks as himself. Throw in a noogie from Bobby here and there. But their friendly relationship eventually becomes damaged by the whole Andrew situation, this after already being strained/made tense when August finds out that Emma⁠—who expressed not wanting to get romantically involved with August⁠—has fallen for and is pursuing a relationship with Bobby. From that revelation, a natural, quiet jealousy for his casual friend bubbles to the surface, leading way to drama between the hot-headed Bobby and the more sensitive, conflict-averse August. I'm already picturing August dodging Bobby like a bullet until he's backed into a corner, as Bobby has no clue why August is acting weird, having not known of his feelings for Emma. Anyhow, hit me up if you're down for this and we can work it out. I'm not looking for anything too heavy if that might worry you; just some classic melodrama. Take it easy! LINK TO SHIPPER MONTY
  12. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL Absolutely gobsmacked at the unforeseen, and quite loaded, revelation, it was actually Bobby that pitched up with a start, administering a light shove (not forceful enough to seem rude or cause harm, and Emma was able to catch the signal all the same) to Emma in an attempt at distancing himself—from her side and from the situation he caused altogether. Through her affecting story, his infatuation quietly morphed into a mild affinity and admiration, then finding himself just as attracted to her bravery as he was her beauty. She was a powerhouse, beyond his usual level of understanding. “Nah, nah. Lookit, I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, and am probably daft where it concerns a lotta things,” Bobby started, hands up defensively, looking Emma in the face, “but I’m wise enough to know when I’ve strayed into dangerous territory. Maybe it wasn’t my place to have heckled you like I did. I apologize for that.” He rose from the plush seat at that moment, and towered over her withdrawn form. “Yo, look... take it from me when I say I know a thing or two about trauma. I’m not, like, a preacher or anything, but those things can’t define you, man. But far as I see, you’ve already got that figured out, tenfold,” he’d snicker, aware of how meaningless his speech would be to someone as robust and bold as her, notably after expressing as much. “What makes you bigger is the fact that you had big enough balls to not let it dictate you. I respect that a lot. Admire it, actually, which is not something I'd usually admit out loud. ‘Specially not to some broad I just met—no offense, of course. I just think you’re a fucking superhero though, and I hope you know that.” “But, uh, with that said…” Bobby scratched the back of his head, then continued on as he reverses into the wall opposite Emma, comfortably leaning against it with his hands rested in the pockets of his black, baggy leather pants, “maybe I really should just get out of here. Unless you wanted to let me make it up to you and lighten the mood?” He’d shrug his broad shoulders and bite down on his bottom lip, hoping to best the pull of the temptress with his proposal. “You gotta. See, shit, I even got these dumb puppy dog eyes on for you.” MONTY @Mariah.  
  13. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL The entire panoramic looked almost picturesque from Bobby’s point of view. The portrait Emma was painting against the sombre backdrop, bathed in the gleaming glow of smoldering ecstasy, threatened to ignite its own flame in Bobby himself. He wouldn’t consider himself a man sexually repressed—far from it; perhaps not as indulgent as he was in his late teens (Drew swears he’s full of shit), but he’s active enough to the point where he can keep his libido strong. Never once has he ever been at risk of blowing his load too early, however, so he’s very cognizant of the precarious position he’s found himself in. Nonetheless, he’d assured himself that that would hardly be an issue for him. Rather, the relevant dilemma he was facing was what to do with this hands in this current scenario. He wholly understood the implications of what he was faced with—the plush room, the hefty fee, the fucking stripper. Yes, he was ready to completely immerse himself with whatever came, but he also chose to be mindful of the fact that she was a thinking, functioning person outside of her work first off; one that was seemingly adverse to fellowship, but wasn’t so uncommunicative when it came to expressing her interests and establishing whatever it was she wanted to be made known, and it had only took the very brief time that he'd known her to deduce this. “Ain’t really much to me, to be honest,” Bobby started, at some point having had settled on linking his hands behind his head and resting it on his arms. “Just a guy hustling, doing what I can.” He had all intent of just leaving it there, willing to devote this full attention on the current thread of entertainment near his lap, but he figured the woman might’ve been largely unimpressed by the ‘brushed-off’ answer, and judging by the interpreted petulant shift of her eyebrow, he’d deduced that she was largely unimpressed by the brushed-off answer. “Uh, Bobby Carter,” he started again. “Boston boy. Short form: single," he lifted his eyebrows. "Got my own trade set up in business as a handyman, doing a lil’ touch of pretty much everything, essentially. So it takes care of me. Long form: Only child, C student, drank my first beer at 13, took my first hit at 15, bust my first nut at 16, left home and went out on my own at 18, and it’s been all me ever since,” he said. Of course there was much more dimension to Bobby’s arc than he was willing to share—partly out of mental repression, partly out of skepticism over who he’s sharing with. Above all, digging through those kinds of buried bones essentially undoes everything Bobby sought to gain when he landed in California, seeking a relatively new existence free of pity, trauma and preconceived judgement. None of it had any relevance to his life in its current form and to unearth it would be having to approach things Bobby’s not sure he’s ever really confronted fully. Bobby abruptly takes note of how consumed he was becoming in his thoughts, and hoped that it wasn’t conspicuous enough for Emma to start asking more questions. Creating a necessary out, he posed to her, “What about you, Miss America? When did life start gripping you by the nutsack? Not tryin’ to cast aspersions or anything, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard any yell out ‘erotic dancer!’ back when the teacher was probing us on what we wanted to do in life.” MONTY @Mariah.  
  14. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL “Give the doorman his thirty? What, we planning bank heists in there?” Bobby jeers, but he was half serious about the hefty fee. “Ha, privacy is some serious shit to you guys now, huh?” Keeping tight on her heels as she guides them beyond the curtain, through the surprisingly labyrinthine establishment, he uses the time to appreciate the fine form of nebulous stunner, now known to him as Emma, but as conservatively as he can, being mindful of a few of the watchful gazes and wary of being characterized as some kind of predatory pig, before it dawned on him that he wouldn’t really give a shit, anyway. They rounded a corner into a short, narrow hallway, of about three doors on each side, that lead to the very daunting silhouette of what Bobby can only imagine to be a man and not a house. So, the ‘doorman’ then. He can’t quite measure the expression in the man’s eyes, guarded by thick, dark sunglasses that can’t at all be practical in his secluded, poorly-lit position, but he registers the glaring sneer that the walking ham pointedly directs at him, and can’t help but chuckle. Intimidation technique, but Bobby isn’t at all fazed. He’s still, in fact, more peeved at the thirty bucks he shoves begrudgingly into the hands of the fully-loaded SUV. Walking into the compact room, he immediately notes the deep purple, comfortable, plush, velvet-y fixtures, and low lighting set to a one, all having been renovated since his last visit. Realistically, it does call to practically every ‘champagne room’ in a strip club that you’ve likely seen on film. But it’s elevated far beyond that of the silver screen, due to the awe-inspiring leading lady gracing his presence. MONTY @Mariah.  
  15. Crash Into Me [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } SWEET LIKE CANDY TO MY SOUL It almost seemed as if she was breathing into him rather than speaking; every word permeating through his skin, punctuated by a bout of desire and seduction, but also a cleverly suppressed, but detectable bit of resistance, as well—which was slightly disconcerting for Bobby. He would’ve loved to probe a bit more to extirpate the root of all of the apprehension, but his own trustworthy instinct told him that it was likely nothing personal, and had more to do with exercising general caution, rather than a perceived lack of interest. At some point, he'd turned around completely to face her head-on and look her dead in the eye. "Well, you'd have had to have been watchin' me just as long to know that, huh?” If Bobby hadn’t spent the last ten minutes taking note of intricate attention to every inconsequential detail on the blonde babe’s face, it’s likely that he wouldn’t have caught the slight tint of carmine colored across the expanse of her face, coupled with the ghost of a smirk that threatened to bloom into something he’s not sure the beauty was ready to confront right now. Not sparing her room for a proper verbal response, he stood up with a start, still looking her dead in the eye. “Tell you what. For whatever reason, the guilt of keeping you away from your bread and butter is practically eating me alive,” he started with a snort, “least I can do is fork over some change for being the biggest pain in the ass right now. How's say two hundred? Three? We don’t even have to do nothin’—I’m not some desperate dickweed asking you to bust out the knee pads or anything. But right now, a bit of your time seems to be worth every penny. Plus, it looks like it’d clear the conscience of ol’ baby blue eyes over there,” he pointed in the direction of the ever-present bartender with a thumb, who cast his eyes downward to the wine glass that he’d been shining, in a fruitless attempt at making it seem as if he hadn’t been completely engrossed in their exchange, albeit with eyes of scrutiny. “I dunno; maybe it’s kind of presumptuous of me, but it looks like you could use some company tonight—even if it’s just to talk. It’d keep you from having to suck off any shitheads tonight, too. Bonus! I mean, unless that’s your groove…” he'd jest. MONTY @Mariah.