Floki Novels & Stories

Liz couldn’t make a sound although her mouth seemed to be trying to ask, “What kind of party is this?!?” Barl, seeing her reaction soothed, “Liz, this is a meeting of the “Walking Stick Club”, the only requirement for membership is that you have at least an eight inch cock when erect, we meet once a month here because it’s so secluded, and also because it has enough room for the thirty people who usually show up.” Finally able to speak, Liz asked, “Do you have to, you know….,”

Before Jessica could utter another desperate plea, the heavy bass of the ambient music cut out with a sharp, jarring screech. The candles flickered as a hidden ventilation system kicked into overdrive, pumping a sudden, freezing draft into the Conservatory. The hairs on Lolita’s arms stood on end. Franco stepped to the centre of the room, his glass empty, his expression shifting from a man entranced by a beautiful display of dominance back to the cold, calculating architect of the Apex Bloom.

Poppie The party started jumping and I knew I should have left before everyone started showing up. The room was packed with guys and chicks wall to wall. Smoke filled the air so thick a person would swear that something was on fire somewhere. I hung out with Marcus for a bit, sitting on his lap while he played Spades, I was just there to smoke the blunts that were going around. I was feeling lifted as I kept refilling my drink to the point I wasn’t adding any mixer, it was just alcohol. Straight vodka.

Tears slid down her face as she finally picked up the phone. “No matter the cost or the method—find Jonathan. You must.” On the beach, beneath brilliant sunlight, I felt a smile on my face, something I had not worn in a long time. Beside me, Margo Fallstar handed me a glass of juice and laughed softly as she cupped her face. “What do you think? Isn’t this place great? My best friend recommended it just for me!” Margo rummaged through her handbag and pulled out several pairs of sunglasses, each in a different style, and held them up against my face one by one.

“Ek gefþúr minn megin, minn kunnusta, minn fróðleikr.” The flames danced in the palms of my hands and I closed my eyes when I felt it swirl inside me. Karani placed her hands on mine and the flames mingled. It was an incredibly heady feeling, the power rushing through me. The flames burned brighter as Karani grabbed my head with both hands. “Mega Óðinnr gefa þú hans speki, Baldur hans nathæ. Mega Eirr’s heill vefja þú. Mega Hlínr hlifa þú ok þórr leið þú inn striith. Ek heita Forseti’s jafnaðr til rule þú ok Váli mit þér er þú leita hefndir. Ek heita fyrir Viðarr’s Þǫgn er striith ódr of þú. Með Magni’s megin ok Týr’s geisa fyrir striith, ek heita fyrir Heimdallur til munu þinn vorðr.

Alex asked, poking a metal fork at one. "A- yes ma'am." Alex scrunched her nose in disgust. She knew it. "What's this then?" She tipped the glass of pink stuff towards him. "That's rooart. It's made from fermented moss." "It's not too bad," she said, taking a generous sip. Weylin looked away. "How old are you?" she asked in between roars of excitement from the crowd. "Seventeen cycles, ma'am." "Call me Alex, not ma'am. It makes me feel old."

This looks wierd shouldn't it have a zip or clip to hold the content inside firm, I tried to open it but it won't budge. "hmm what do you think child maybe I should use a knife to pry it open" I said as i touch the outside of it ,feels like fur of a kind, I'm not sure yet" but it looks so expensive and its the only thing connecting you and the person who bought you here. Maybe I should try it later when I rest."come on, I pat her butt let's go take a nap", as I turned to leave, florest body touched the bag and immediately it opened

Britney managed to squeeze in before I cut the call. “I hope he’s not coming with us,” she glared, folding her arms. “No worries there muffin,” I cooed lifting up my camera bag, “I got it covered.” She nodded, trailing down my figure, eyes widening, “That’s what you’re wearing!” I glanced down at the large fuzzy shirt I was wearing matched with dark leggings and ankle boots, “what’s wrong with this?” “Really Makayla?!” “What?!” “You look like a Hobo!” she huffed staring at me in horror.

I forgot about them, they were silent, hearing our interaction. "Yeah." He said, he walked toward me and helped me stand up. "I'm excited to see you tomorrow, mein blume." He said, adding the foreign nickname for me. (My flower.) I hate that stupid nickname too. R H Y K E R My eyes are drawn to the sunset laying down in the sky as I smoke my electronic cigarette, I fell on the couch with my arm supporting my head while closing my eyes shut in order to breathe in peace and silence outside of the hospital garden, with colourful flowers and fountain.

Freya’s nails, which were cut like daggers, sliced against Cassiopeia's cheek, leaving a visible claw mark. Cassiopeia was bewildered by what Freya was saying. "I don't know what you are talking about. Let me go." "You’re still lying!" Freya gestured at the pale-looking Liam, who was lying on the bed, and teared up. "Liam is only four years old and just had a kidney transplant. How can you be so cruel to him? Aren’t you a mother too?"