#at all costs. your job yeah you want that and all but the Real reason you want it all is to keep greg with you just SAY that

[gregoftom]

alright nero damn

[clockwayswrites]

Cozytober Day 3: Hot Chocolate

masterpost

“You just had to make a mess on your way, didn’t you?” Jason asked as he stepped over Danny’s shed clothing.

“Yes,” Danny said, just to be cheeky.

He could be cheeky with Jason. Jason might huff and puff or snark back, but it was always in good fun with each other. Somethings were off limits, but they’d both made a deal to be honest about what those were. So far it had worked out.

Jason sighed. “Leave me to clean up your mess after you, carry you around, make you hot chocolate…”

“Hot chocolate?” Danny asked, sitting up in Jason’s arms. Jason’s hot chocolate was a thing of the divine.

“Mhum,” Jason agreed with a hum as he dropped Danny carefully onto the couch.

Danny let himself lay there like a dead fish as he tried to give Jason his best puppy dog eyes.

“Put those eyes away,” Jason said with a chuckle. He leaned down and pressed a kiss right between Danny’s eyes. “I already said I’d make it. Do you want the works?”

“Yes,” Danny said. He shifted a little on the couch so that he could still watch Jason as he moved over to the kitchen area of the open plan space. “Your day?”

“Oh. It was okay,” Jason said as he gathered what he needed and put a pot on the stove. “I think that we’re finally making some real progress on the plans for the affordable housing. There’s a place in German that does a lot of what we want and need in their prefab walls. Obviously shipping that far would make it cost prohibitive, but they seem interested in maybe setting up a workshop here as long as Gotham helps with the initial costs. It might be a good deal in the end for both them and the city.”

“That’s great!” Danny knew how hard Jason had been working at this project, and how many times there had been insurmountable seeming roadblocks.

“It really is. And a new industry means new jobs. We might be able to tie it in with the workforce alternative we’ve got started with the court system too. I might also be counting my chickens before they hatch but…”

“Hope.”

“Yeah, but hope,” Jason agreed softly.

“Proud of you,” Danny said.

He could see Jason’s ears flush all he way from the couch. Danny tried to tell Jason he was as proud of him as often a he could, both because of the cute response but because Danny didn’t think Jason knew how good he was.

“Nothings don’t yet,” Jason said.

“Proud. Of. You,” Danny said with pointed enunciation.

Jason muttered an adorable grumble as he fussed with breaking up the real chocolate bar that he used in the hot chocolate. Danny closed his eyes and just listened to Jason moving around, out of words the moment. One of the reasons he liked being at Jason’s more than his tiny shoe box was the noise of someone else moving around him.

“Up we go, boo,” Jason urged softly some time later.

Danny cracked a wide yawn and used the moment of swinging his legs off the couch to get himself somewhat sitting up. Jason slotted into place beside Danny and helped prop him up before he tipped back over again. Danny happily burrowed in against Jason’s broad shoulder.

“Eyes open,” Jason said.

Resisting a grumble, Danny opened his eyes and took the large mug in front of his face. He cradled it for a moment, just enjoying the warmth, before he took a long, slow sip. The richness of chocolate and warmth of spice bloomed over his tongue. Danny let out a happy sigh.

“The best.”

Jason chuckled. “You just like me for my hot chocolate.”

“Lies. Also have a very nice co—”

“Danny!” Jason admonished between a bout of startled laughter.

Danny grinned to himself, proud as always to make Jason laugh like that, free and bright. He rewarded himself with another sip of his drink.

[valeelavvale]

Devil

featuring : Lando Norris/reader

summary : (requested by @madelyn2000)

Lando is a big Manchester United Fan, y/n a Liverpool one and the meet each other at the match between your teams

genre : romance

word count : 1207

Work sucks. 

She couldn't think of anything else as she put on the uniform in the colors of the wrong team—the one she hated and rooted against every single time. 

Yet once again, she had to give in and accept that job in the VIP lounge of Manchester United, right during the match against Liverpool. 

Her team. 

She would be in enemy territory for the whole match, serving champagne to rich people who surely knew less about football than she did and who, in any case, supported the wrong team. 

She slipped on her shoes and looked at herself in the mirror. 

"Congrats, y/n, another great evening ahead," she muttered to herself, tying her hair back and leaving the locker room alongside the other waiters who would be working with her that night. 

The match hadn’t started yet, but there were already quite a few people there—former football legends, athletes of all kinds, wealthy people, entrepreneurs, lots of people with watches that probably cost as much as her house. 

About twenty minutes had passed since kickoff, and she was filling empty glasses with champagne right in front of the glass window overlooking the field when suddenly a roar erupted from the stands. 

**1-0** 

Liverpool had scored. 

"Hell yeah!" she said without even thinking. 

"Excuse me?" a voice sounded beside her. A guy was looking at her, amused, and she recognized him—she had seen him on TV dozens of times: Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver for McLaren. 

"Oops…" y/n said, unable to hide a face that was just a little too comical. 

"I can’t believe it—you’re a snitch!" he laughed, pointing at her. 

"Cut it out," she muttered, lowering her gaze; she didn’t want everyone in there to know. 

Lando chuckled, shaking his head. 

"A red in enemy territory. Well, anyway, that was a terrible goal—don't get used to celebrating. We’ll come back right away." 

"You’d like that…" she said, staring at him. "You guys suck with half your defense injured—unless, as usual, the referee forgets to call all your offsides…" she commented. 

"Says the one who gets penalties gifted for no reason," he shot back, taking a sip of champagne. 

"Let me remind you what happened in the first match—you guys butchered half of our midfield," she retorted stubbornly. 

Lando smiled—what a feisty one. 

"You weren’t here for the first match, though, or I’d remember you—I’d definitely remember you…" he said, looking at her. 

"No, I was there, where the real fun is," she said, pointing at the stands. 

"I know—it’s much more fun over there. But today, the sponsors trapped me here. I’d rather have beer than champagne, if I’m being honest."

"You don’t seem like someone who spends much time in the stands," she said. 

That guy definitely had a watch that cost as much as her house. 

"And how would you know?" he grinned. 

He was about to say something else when a man behind him called for him. He gave her a smile before turning around and shaking hands with very important people. 

-

Later that night, y/n had finished her shift and changed into jeans and her team’s t-shirt. She wanted to sit somewhere and eat something, but there weren’t many places she liked near the stadium. 

"Hey, Liverpool Girl."

A voice made her turn around. Next to a ridiculously expensive car stood Lando—the superstar driver she had exchanged a few words with earlier. 

He smiled and quickly crossed the street to reach her.

"What do you say we ditch the champagne and grab a beer?" he asked, smiling. 

She looked at him, surprised. He was Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver. She was y/n, dressed in jeans and faded Converse. 

She smiled. 

"Sounds great. And, by the way, my name’s y/n," she replied, amused. 

Who was she to turn down such an unexpected invitation? 

I mean, she didn’t know him, but he was famous—the chances of him being a serial killer who would hide her body were pretty low. 

She got in the car, and he started the engine. 

"There aren’t any good places near the stadium. Do you mind if I take you to my favorite pub?" he asked, turning right. 

"Sure, there's really nothing around here I like either," she admitted. 

"Did you enjoy the match?" she asked then, just to say something. 

"Are you asking if I’m mad at you for that foul that didn’t get called?" he grinned. "No, not really."*

Y/n laughed. 

"Keep believing it was a foul," she teased. "You’d better stick to driving because when it comes to football… You don’t seem to know much about it."

They kept exchanging witty remarks until Lando parked in front of a well-known pub. 

He got out and, like a true gentleman, opened the door for her. 

"I’m starving, by the way… Oysters, sushi, caviar… What a disgusting selection of food they had earlier," he commented as he walked in, signaling her to follow him to a table by the window. 

"That stuff creeps me out," y/n agreed. "And on top of that, a job where I can’t even take home the leftovers—working for the worst team in the world!" she laughed. 

"You know, the problem is that you’re ridiculously hot. Otherwise, with everything you say about the Devils, really…" he smiled, looking at her, and y/n couldn’t help but blush. Thankfully, pubs are dark. 

-

It was past three in the morning when they realized the pub had nearly emptied. 

"They’re going to kick us out soon," Lando grinned. 

The thing was, he didn’t want to go home. He had enjoyed talking to her—laughing, teasing each other—too much. It had been amazing. 

"There’s the race at Silverstone next week. Would you like to come?" he asked. 

If they left now and he drove her home, it wouldn’t be so easy to see her again—and he wanted to. 

"To watch the Grand Prix? At Silverstone?" she asked, surprised. 

"Yeah… Of course, you’ll have to give me your number so I can get you the paddock passes," he said with a smirk. 

Y/n tilted her head. 

"Giving you my number just to get a pass for an F1 race… It’s worth it—but only for that, not because I actually want to see a Devil like you again…" she joked, taking his phone and typing in her number. 

"I don’t know if I’ll root for you, though…" she teased. "I have too much fun disagreeing with you."

Lando burst out laughing. 

"Whatever, just come… And don’t get too friendly with the other drivers."

"Oh, no? And why’s that?" y/n laughed. 

He leaned in across the table. 

"Because, trust me, there’s no one more devilish than me," he whispered. 

"We’ll see…" she smiled, holding his gaze. 

Maybe she’d overlook the fact that he supported Manchester United, after all. 

[degloved]

so one thing that i noticed immediately reading sotr is that yes, they're poor, but they're not katniss-poor (and the everdeens were one of the better off families in the seam at that.) in only 25 years, they all collectively went from "getting by" to "starving in the streets like dogs." that's not a natural progression of things.

clearly, obviously, even before katniss, snow has had d12 in his sights in a very real but subtle way. you look at the state of d12 and see a dirty starved depressed population fenced in like cattle, and you think "this is a place forgotten by its master." but it's not. it's never been. he is systematically, one lost penny by another, breaking them down. taking their resources and killing them off slowly, torturously.

but you can't do that to your workers if you want to reap the fruits of their labor, especially not those who work intense physical jobs like coal mining—where their life expectancy is reduced even more so due to chemical exposure and explosive accidents. unless... you don't really need those workers, right? unless their output isn't that valuable. unless you can get coal from, say, district 2. or elsewhere. the living conditions of d12 are unparalleled in their misery—nowhere is as bad as there, because nowhere else is being punished. people are poor, but they get by. even 12 used to get by once.

my next point—snow could've bombed d12 at any point. he did not need them, he needed them even less than he needed d13 & yet 13 is gone but 12 stands. and, well, turns out one can come by "graphite" (nuclear energy) some other way. i'm sure that ever since then and maybe before that, they've known they can't put their eggs all in one basket. further proving 12's meager coal output doesn't exactly make the whole panem go round.

we can reasonably conclude that the districts 11, 12 and 13 have historically been the most troublesome. in sotr, d11 tributes refuse to join the careers—they walk around with an air of indifference about the games. loulou, the hijacked 12 year old—also from 11. so, her parents were... rebels? traitors? someone that "warranted" this (nevermind that none of those horrors can be called warranted in the first place.) in cf, d11 openly show a smidgen of rebellious energy during katniss' victory tour, being sort of the embers of a possible uprising. clearly, this is a district that is & has been less likely to cooperate than the others. d12—same thing. haymitch, katniss, lucy grey, and probably dozens of people before them and between them—especially of the covey.

they're... scheme-y. and snow knows this. and so it follows that it's not shocking, can't be, that those so-called "outer districts" are said to be the poorest. they're kept down, systematically, with hunger and poverty, because when they're not hungry and impoverished, they Do Some Shit. hell, they do some shit even when they are. but snow, equally, cannot resist sadism. he could bomb them immediately, yeah, wipe them clean off the face of the planet like he did d13. he doesn't need them, their output, their workers. really, having peacekeepers there and such is just a waste of money. but he loves taking his resentment out on them, he loves to see them suffer, he loves to reap their children. and that eventually costs him everything. because he didn't—couldn't, for his own twisted reasons—destroy them when he still had the chance.

edit to add: i can't believe i forgot this (i was tired) but let's not forget reaper in the 10th games, the district 11 tribute, who (1) killed a peaceekeeper back home and (2) tore a panem flag off the wall to make a morgue for the fallen tributes within the arena. i fear d11 has BEEN that girl !!!!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

got any more empath reader?

Only because there's rampant plot bunnies for it in my brain. I have an abundance of much more polite asks.

"You okay?" Dick asked, careful not to touch you as he got close enough to speak in your ear- to be heard above the din. You were drowning in an oversized hoodie and that usually meant "Do not. I am not real today."

You half shrug and give him a wan smile, "About as okay as it gets after a blow out."

"It was a good one, huh." He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall. You exuded calm he knew you didn't feel. And it was nice. He felt better, and he appreciated it. That benefit of your odd little empathic quirk.

Bruce had banned you from doing it to the WHOLE manor all at once, but, it was a little difficult for him to stop you from doing it in your immediate vicinity.

"What was Jason like before?" you ask, tucking your knees up under your hoodie and wrapping your arms around yourself. There's no judgement in the question, just curiosity. From someone else that had felt a part of themself die on a filthy floor.

"Annoyingly cheerful," Dick snorted. "Tough though. Street smart. Idealistic and brave to a fault. It's like he was made in a lab to be Robin. I got the job by Tragedy. Jason got the job because Bruce- well frankly I think Bruce was lonely and saw a scrappy kid who stole his tires and just went 'welp guess I'm a dad again'. And we all know Tim just bullied his way in." He broke off and shook his head. "He didn't really mean what he said about-"

"You and Steph call me a Science experiment all the time," you point out.

"Yeah," Dick admitted, wincing. "But it didn't go wrong. What they did to you was wrong. They way they did it was wrong. What you can do is cool as shit... You're not a walking Xanax. That's not what we keep you around for."

When you don't look at him, nodding silently, he wonders what you're picking up. How deep you can dig through a person for their buried feelings. And exactly what it COSTS to know that information all the time. "I think I'm gonna go on a walk for a while."

" 'Kay," Dick said easily, "Planning on comin' back for dinner?" Rambles were good. And not uncommon. They gave you time to clear your head.

"I'm not sure," you admit, "but I should be back before dark."

Dick nodded, "I'll tell Bruce. I don't think he wants you on Patrol for any particular reason. You're probably just on stand by." With any luck, Dick thought, they'd never put you with Jason. That would be catastrophic.

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.3K 

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome, mention of depression

A/N: Alright, I struggled to write this chapter. I wanted to get the interactions between Dean and Reader right but also, wanted to give you more info on Reader. So, I really hope you’ll like this chapter.

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Tag list: @lyarr24, @deans-baby-momma, @hell0-ki11y111, @kr804573, @zepskies, @impalari, @urinternetmom, @sushiumex

Dividers by @cafekitsune

You poured the salt on the corpse. You cracked a match and threw it on the body. Flames engulfed the bones. You stood there for a little while longer. The poor girl had not stood a chance. Her family had been horrible to her. Put her through torture. And that was decades ago. She had no reasons to remain amongst the living, no reasons to haunt them. They weren’t the one who had hurt her and yet, she still wanted revenge. Blinded by her rage, the spirit had killed the people that had lived in her mansion over the years. Some were classified as natural deaths, and others as freak accidents. With so many deaths in one mansion over the years. All happening at a specific time of the years, you had to check it out.

It was a run of the mill hunt. Quite easy. You threw your bags in the trunk of your car, and climbed in the driver’s seat. Your goal was to get out of town as quick as possible, to disappear. You drove through the night. You wanted to get to your small flat as quick as possible.

Your two bedrooms apartment was your refuge. You could go there and recuperate for a few days. You loved hunting, you really did but you sometimes needed a break from it. Adding to the dangerous nature of the job, and the constant near death experiences, it was also draining. And rarely, was it ever rewarding. But that was not why you were doing it. You truly believed that everyone in this life was born with a purpose. There were people born to be doctors, or cops, or even firemen. And some were born to be hunters. That was you.

One fateful night, you found out that monsters were real. Everything that went bumping into the night, the monsters under the bed, the witches, vampires, werewolves, they were all real. That fateful night was also the start of your aversion for woods, camping and wendigos. You hated all three of those things, and you avoided them at all cost. But it had not deterred you from getting into the life. After finding out about them being real, you could not just ignore it. You could not keep living your life as though nothing had happened. As though you knew nothing of monsters and of the people that hunted them.

So, you became one yourself.

The sounds of gunfire welcomed you as you pushed your door open. And the voice of your youngest brother swearing at the television followed. You pushed your door closed behind you with a tired sigh. Sure, you had texted him to let him know that you would soon be back. But you had not expected him to be there still.

“That’s not why I left you a key, you know?” You said dropping your bags by the door, after you locked it.

He put down the controller on the coffee table. “Your plant is taken care of.” He shrugged turning to you. “You look awful.”

“Thanks.” You answered dryly. You dropped your keys on your dinner table, and moved to your kitchen. “Want a beer?”

“Yeah,” He got up and followed you into your kitchen. “So, how was it?”

“Matt—”

“Come on, you can tell me.” He leaned on the counter behind him.

“I don’t want to tell you.” You shook your head. “I’m not talking about it with you or anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“Because—we are talking about hunting monsters. And I don’t want any of you into the life.” You moved back into your living room. “And what the hell are you still doing here anyway? Don’t you have a girlfriend to go back to?”

“Just wanted to make sure, you were alright before I left.” He shrugged.

You smiled fondly at him. “That’s so sweet.” You cooed at him, pinching his cheek. He swatted it away.

“Stop.”

You snorted. “I’m alright, not injured. So, you can go back to your girlfriend.” You slapped his shoulder.

“you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.” You nodded. “Go.”

“Alright, call if you need anything.”

“I won’t.” You called after him. “And don’t call me for the next few days, please.”

“I will.” He walked and locked behind him.

You spent the next few days locked up in your apartment. True to his words, your brother called you. But you really did not mind. Your youngest brother only wanted to make sure that you were taken care off. After all, you were living alone while he and your two other siblings had people to come home to.

Building relationships with anyone had never been easy for you. Especially romantic ones. Something always went wrong. You felt as though you were giving more than you were receiving. You always thought that you were not understood as you did them. And instead of expressing those things, you kept quiet. You let things go, hoping they would solve themselves. And ultimately, it would lead to break-up.

You never stayed home too long. You gave yourself a few days off, away from hunting and monsters, before going back into the fray. It wasn’t surprising to find you back on the road within days. And you always let your brother know when you did.

Out of all your siblings, he was the closest to you. The one that truly worried about you and made sure you were alright and taken care of, when you were home. And to think both of you hated each other growing up, was just laughable now. You knew you had failed him when you were younger. Always siding with your parents, trying your best to keep peace within your family. It had put a strain on your relationship with your siblings over the years.

“Agent Prentiss, FBI.” You flashed your fake FBI badge to the officer on the scene.

“Officer Davis.” He introduced himself. His eyes inevitably landed on your cleavage area.

Your white buttoned-down shirt was a little tight around your breast, you had left a couples of buttons undone. Which was giving him a glimpse of it  

“What brings the FBI into this neck of the wood?” Davis said, clearing his throat.

You smirked as you caught him ogling at your cleavage. “The bureau has taken an interest into the recent strings of death that has been happening lately.”

“There’s nothing interesting in a couple of animal attacks.” Davis scoffed.

“True but these are quite unusual.” You pointed out. "Hearts missing. And nothing else. Doesn't really sound like an animal to me."

“Look, it’s better if people think it’s an animal.” Davis said quietly to you. “We don’t want them to panic while there’s a killer on the loose.”

“I completely understand your situation, trust me.” You told him. “I’m only here to help you. Maybe, a set of fresh eyes may help you see things a little clearer.” He seemed to hesitate. “I don’t want to step on your toes, here. I really do want to stop the killings. So, let me help you.”  

You looked up at him. He ran a hand on the back of his neck. Hesitating on letting you in the investigation.  He looked around you, the crowd at the edge of the crime scenes, the journalist looking for sensational news. Clearly, he was at a loss. He needed to provide answers to the victims’ family.  

The killing spree had started a few days ago. It was pretty gruesome. Dead bodies had been found recently; their hearts had been ripped out. For you, it was quite an easy hunt. It was clearly werewolves. The deaths started with the full moon, and their hearts were missing.

“What can you tell me about the victim?”

“Young woman, early twenties,” He cleared his throat. He started to lead you toward the victim, where the Medical Examiner was getting a look at the victim. “She was found by a couple of joggers.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow to him. “People jog in this area?”

“Yeah, there’s a short trail that go into the woods for a few miles, before it cuts back into the park over there.” He gestured over your shoulder.

You looked over your shoulders briefly, and did a double take when you recognized a couple of familiar faces. “You have got to be kidding me.” You said under your breath.

“What was that?” Officer Davis asked you.

“It seems there was a mix up at the bureau.” You smiled tightly at Davis. “Anyway—” You turned to the M.E. “Anything you can tell me on the cause of death?”

The M.E. looked to the leading officer for approval. The latter nodded at her. “Same as the others.” She said, moving the head of the young woman to the side. “No apparent defensive wounds, she was hit over the head. Same spot as the others,” her hands left her head and went to victim’s wrists. “Ligature marks, and of course her heart’s missing.”

It looked like a werewolf kill alright. Although, the ligatures marks did not make much sense to you. Neither did the head trauma. Werewolves were pretty strong creatures and this seemed to indicate that they needed to restrain the victim before the kill, but why?

You turned around to see Dean and Sam Winchester were walking up to you. You excused yourself and met the brothers halfway. Dean looked a little peeved by your presence there. You approached them under his glare. You really did not get why he was mad about you being there. And you didn’t care.

“Winchesters, we meet again.” You said as a form of greeting.

Sam smiled down at you. “It’s good to see you.” Dean scoffed at that.

“Not everybody agrees.” Your eyes drifted to Dean briefly before you returned your attention on Sam.

“You’re not working the case.” Dean said and you glanced up at him confused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re not working the case.” Dean then gestured between him and Sam. “We are.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “I already have an in with the officers. I got this under control. You can sit this one out. You do look like you need some rest, you look tired.” You patted his shoulder; and he recoiled from your touch.

“I don’t need rest.” He pointed an angry finger under your nose. “And really?!” Dean’s eyebrows went up into his hairline. “You got this under control?”

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded.

“So, you have it all figured out already?” Dean questioned, clearly hostile.

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged. “Dead bodies, heart’s missing. I’d say—werewolves.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“And you do?”

“How can you be so sure it’s werewolves?” He questioned.

“Because it makes sense.” You argued back. “What else could it be?”

“Skinwalker.” He shrugged smugly.

“Please.” You scoffed. “You’re just pulling something out of your ass.”

“Dean’s right.” Sam sighed. “It could be a skinwalker. We don’t know that for sure.”

“We do.” You retorted. “It’s a full moon.”

“It won’t matter if it’s a skinwalker.” Dean shook his head.

“Alright.” You snapped at him. “I’ll take that in consideration. Thank you for your help. Go home.”

You turned away from Dean and stomped to your car. You were angry with him, now. He was talking to you as though you didn’t know how to do your job.

Dean grabbed your arm, stopping you on your way to your car. “Listen, kid—“ You looked between him and the grip he had on your arm. “You could barely handle a vampire hunt on your own and now you want to take on werewolves?” You ripped your arm out of his grip. “You should really leave this one to us.”

“First, not a kid. Never was.” You replied. “Second, I called for help because I had never hunted vampires before.” You walked closer to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “I know how to handle myself on a hunt. Not that’s any of your business, Winchester. I don’t need you or your brother, I can take care of this.”

You turned around and ripped the door to the driver’s seat open, before slamming it shut. And peeled out of there. How dared he? He treated you as though you were an amateur. This wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew how to hunt. You weren't new to this job. You should have reminded him that you saved his life on this vampire hunt. Had he forgotten?

You couldn’t care less if he stayed in town or if he left. You would just proceed with the hunt. Whether it was a werewolf or Skinwalker; as they suggested; you’d kill it and be out of town. After all, it was an easy enough hunt.

As you’d soon find out, they, in fact, did not leave town. You crossed path with them at the diner. You sent a glare Dean’s way as you walked up to one of the empty booths. You were determined to ignore Dean Winchester and his brother. You were determined to show them that you could handle yourself, and take care of it all on your own.

You didn’t need them. You had never needed anyone.

You sat alone in your booth and ate your lunch while reviewing the victims’ files. They all had been found by the trail near the small wooded area. Heart’s missing, ligatures marks, slight head trauma. The heart being ripped out, indicated a werewolf kill but the ligatures marks and the head trauma suggested something different. You didn’t understand why they were there. Why did they tie up the victims?

There was only one way to find out but you did not like it. You had an aversion for the wooded areas by night. More than anything. However you were a hunter and sometimes, you had to do what you had to do. So, you traded your FBI pantsuit for dark jeans that hugged your large hips and thick thighs perfectly. You traded your dress shirt for a tie-dye crop top that showed a sliver of your skin, and the stretchmarks that peeked out of your waistband. Scars that you had gained over the years as your body changed. It had grown and suffered. It wasn’t slim or thin, it was curvy and big. You had large hips, thick and plushy thighs, a large breast. You loved your body and you had learned to flaunt it.

Flaunting your assets was not what you were going to do tonight. Anyone who knew you, would tell you it was the worst idea you’d ever had. Especially knowing your aversion for the woods at night time. Garth would advise you to ask the Winchesters, since they were in town, to accompany you. And in retrospect, you probably should have. But he didn’t need to know about that.

“Son of a gun!” You breathed out shakily. You tightened your dark green flannel and your thick jacket around your torso.

You were too stubborn to ask for help when you should. But asking for help was like admitting weakness. And you refused to appear weak in front of Dean Winchester. He already thought you were incapable. You didn’t want him to think of you as weak. You were not going to give him the satisfaction.

Your fingers were tight around your lamp torch. Your heart beating wildly beneath your ribcage. Every breath you took was shaky. Everything in you was screaming at you to run. To go to safety. But you were a hunter. You needed to put an end to the killings. You needed to take care of the werewolf. Or the skinwalker.

Crunch. You froze. Crunch. You pulled out your gun. Crunch. A snort. You knew it wasn’t human. You took another shaky breath. A failed attempt to steady yourself. Your feet remained rooted to the ground. As the sounds were coming closer to your position. You needed to move. And fast.

When your body finally obeyed your brain, it was already too late. You had barely moved when the beast pounced on you. You let out a scream as you landed on your back. The wind got knocked out of you. Your gun flew away from you.

There you were, defenseless. And alone.

Yellow eyes staring into yours. Bared fangs as it snarled at you. Its breath was hot on your face. You did not wish to die here. Alone. Away from your family. This seemed much too familiar to you. A feeling of déjà-vu. You hated it. You hated the woods. You hated that monster breathing down on your face.

A shot rang. Its head snapped up to the sound. Two tall figures were rushing to your aid. You could have sobbed with relief at seeing them. But you weren’t out of the woods yet. No pun intended.  

Its snarled at them. They fired their guns again.  The creature fled as fast as they could. Sam rushed to your aid while Dean pursued the monster.

“Hey,” He helped you up. “You okay?”

You nodded quickly. You were still shaken up. This was too close. You could have died tonight. All of that because you weren’t prepared. Because you wanted to prove something. You screwed up. You clenched your fists repeatedly. You just wanted for your hands to stop shaking. If they could only stop shaking.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Dean snapped at you, once he came back.

“What?”

“We were tracking it down and now it’s gone.” He continued. “You screwed it all up.”

“Dean.” Sam put a hand on his brother’s chest.

“Excuse you!” You snapped back at him. “I screwed up? I was being attacked.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you don’t know what you’re doing, princess.” Dean stepped closer to you, glaring down at you. “I don’t know how you survived this long on your own, but it won’t last much longer if you keep pulling stupid stunts like that. Leave this to us before you get yourself killed.”

What he said wasn’t untrue. You could have gotten yourself killed tonight. It was reckless to go in before truly knowing what was behind the attacks. Although, that was unfair of him to say. You didn’t set out to be attacked or get yourself killed. You were only trying to do your job. You were a hunter and this was what hunters do. This was what they were doing. So, why was it okay for them to do but not for you?

No one believed in you. No matter how hard you tried they still thought you were uncapable. You had met hunters like him before. Doubting you and your skills. You were too soft, they said. You scared too easy, they said. However, you had proven to them that you knew what you were doing. You had proven to them that you got the job done.

You glared back at him. “Like you care.” You wanted to sound harsh, angry. You wanted him to know that you won’t let him get to you. But that wasn’t how it sounded coming out of your mouth.

You sounded tired and defeated. No one would care if you did die. Not the Winchesters. Not even your own family. Those words had always been floating in your brain for years. After all, you had done so many things for so many people. So many things that went unnoticed. Of course, if you were to disappear. No one would notice the difference. They didn’t need you. Not as much as you needed them. You felt the tears pressed against your eyes.

You would not give him the satisfaction to see you cry, on top of everything else. So, you turned around and walked away from the Winchesters. You heard Sam called you but you ignored him.

You needed to get away from the woods. You needed to get away from Dean.

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[mythmash]

Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 10 - Furniture Shopping

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, long, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, sukuna's very tired accountant, sukuna being inappropriate in furniture stores, sex toy mention A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

Going back to this post, and the part about riding Sukuna on the dining room table

Your first thought is wow that must be a really strong table

But then you think about how hot it is that that’s almost certainly why he picked it

He doesn’t care about how many people it can seat he just wants to know how much weight it can handle for…reasons

You go furniture shopping with him and learn that’s actually how he picks all of his furniture

Sukuna doesn’t give a fuck about interior decorating, it’s all about maximum fucking potential

The employee at the fancy furniture store is yapping about the wood grain and how old the trees the legs were cut from are

Sukuna's not even pretending to be interested

He’s just spaced out thinking of will it wobble when he bends you over it

Before they can even finish talking he just thinks “Yeah, this’ll work.” and slaps his card on the counter

You're looking at bookcases and asking about materials and if the shelves are adjustable

When you ask Sukuna what he thinks, he pushes you up against it and stands between your legs

No, it doesn’t tilt.

Yes, the shelves hold his weight.

It doesn't dig into your back.

Sold.

Here’s his card.

Does he know how much it costs? No. He didn’t look.

It literally does not matter to him as long as it works

He's like a cat just silently walking around nudging things and muttering to himself before he moves on to the next thing

The employees are too scared to ask if he needs help, but also he seems to have…some kind of system going?? So they just leave him be until it’s time to check out

You have to follow behind him to remind him “No. We are not getting that table with a stained walnut finish. I don’t care how sturdy it is, everything in our house is oak.”

He finally says fuck it and starts getting furniture custom made

It’s the perfect shade of ash or oak or whatever you’re talking about and double reinforced so he can bend you over it and give you a real good look at the finish anytime

Sukuna spends an ungodly amount of money furniture shopping with you

And on you in general, no matter how much you try to stop him

His accountant has a lot of questions after Sukuna starts dating you

“What are all these charges for custom tables?”

“Why are you spending thousands on….Pleaser Platform Shoes?”

Can’t a man get a good cunty platform? Gosh

“You can’t write off vibrators and cock rings as a work expense. No, fucking your girlfriend for forty hours a week doesn’t count as a job. I don't care that you're "putting in the work".”

“What do you mean you have an "honorary W2" from The Love Store?”

“Why do you have a manicure budget? And why does it include $200 tips?”

Sukuna is baffled by that one because nail techs do hard work

Do you see how small those nails are and how intricate the designs are?

What is he supposed to do? Not tip? It’s 2024, get with the times Mx. Accountant.

He’ll kill people no problem, but he draws the line at being at not tipping customer service workers

The day Sukuna tells his accountant that half of his major charges are him paying for private dances from his own girlfriend (plus tip) is the day his accountant almost quits

[bezslutpiercing]

Diggianini 60

60. Truth serum/spell

He doesn't know precisely when it started, if this morning or yesterday already when he told his physiotherapist his shoulder hurt so much he barely could eat with that arm at lunch, all he knows is that this is really fucked up.

He cannot help but tell the truth, compulsively, repeatedly, about everything. He looked online for it, fearing a tumor or something similar, a problem with his brain maybe, neurons not acting properly.

Google told him there was a condition like his caused by a truth serum, the one you usually see in spy movies like James Bond, and he never actually thought those were real.

He read it can be contained in certain types of medicines and painkillers, and started reading through the impressively long list, it's always cited as a side effect, who even reads those, they're like Terms and Conditions that appear when you download an app on your phone. The serum is in two of the four painkillers he's prescribed, a rate of manifestation in the patient rated 1.5/1000, what a fucking joke really.

"Fuck"

In his job, lying is important, whenever they ask him about the shoulder, or the feelings after a race, he mostly lies, if he ever got the truth out it would be terrible for his PR image.

He quickly gets to the track, and starts walking around once he's inside his motorhome, pacing in weirdly shaped circles.

He wonders wether or not he should inform the PR team, Uccio maybe even, to ensure he's excluded from media questions until the effects die down.

Eventually he calls his PR manager, quickly explains the situation, and he assures him they'll take preventive measures to protect him from eventual mediatic disasters.

The one thing, or rather, person he didn't hold into count when thinking of his situation is Enea.

Him and Enea they have a kind of arrangement, a strange one, made back in Moto3, strengthened in Moto2 when they were teammates. The agreement is simple, the two of them fuck, but since it's only between them and only after races it's not a gay thing to do, they're just guys releasing adrenaline.

And it's been fine for years now, none of them ever rethinking about it, wanting to change something in the dynamic.

Well. Ok no that's a lie. Diggia wants to, has been wanting to do it for a long time now. He wants to be able to stay after they finish fucking, wants to hold Enea close in his arms, kiss him gently, stroke his hair as he falls asleep, breathe in his perfume when they lay side by side.

And of course he never told him that, Enea wouldn't like it, he's sure of it, whenever Diggia tries to go for a kiss after Enea jerks away, if he's too gentle while they have sex Enea will do something to get him to be rough, Enea never stays, Enea never lets him stay.

But - now what if they do this and then he speaks up? Would he tell people? Would he tell the media?

He'll have to avoid him. At any cost he'll have to avoid him. Or it's gonna go to shit.

•••

The race is over, Bez finished just ahead of him, he feels the arm hurting, he'll need more painkillers now, and Enea, he won.

He smiles absentmindedly when he sees the result of the Sprint race, he's happy for him. He'd be happier if it was him instead of Martin on the second step of the podium alongside Enea but he's happy like this too.

Seeing Enea smile it's worth staying a bit more in front of the TV screen in the garage than he should.

He gets cleared of media, declared "unavailable" for non-specified reasons.

He rests in his motorhome, when there's a knock on the door, and he goes to open it, thinking it's Uccio.

But when he opens it a strong smell of champagne hits him, the bright smile of his friend blinding him.

"Can I come in?" "Yeah"

Dammit, he should've said no. But he can't lie.

"You showered already Fabio? Could've waited for me" "Wanted to" "Oh you wanted to?" "Yeah"

Fuckfuckfuck stop please stop asking me these questions shut up shut up

He is clearly about to ask why but Diggia offers him a can of monster, which Enea refuses, smiling once again.

Diggia can't help but look at him, his soft features, soft lips, soft hair, soft skin, all remind him of the warm sensation he feels every time they fuck, when Enea is riding him and he's trying to slow down the pace a bit just to enjoy it for longer, or when Enea has his back against the mattress and keeps chanting his name, and Diggia wishes he could kiss the sound coming out of his lips instead of biting at his collarbone with force

"Well that's a shame now, but I won no? Don't I deserve a little celebration?" "Yeah you do" "Choose, you can decide-" "Vojo succhiarte il cazzo" (I wanna suck your dick)

Which gets Enea a bit incredule, because Diggia never sucked his dick, if not once while drunk, so it doesn't count. Because Diggia always (if not once, drunk there too) topped, and had Enea suck his dick not the opposite.

"Ok nice, let's get to the bedroom then"

And Diggia doesn't know how to react, he really does want to suck him off, but also only did it once, what if he's not good at it? He's had girls being bad at blowjobs, it really kills your libido.

His thoughts are shut off when he sees Enea taking off his leathers completely, he's wearing the white undersuit that makes Diggia go absolutely crazy, il clings to every muscle of his upper body, especially his pecs and biceps, and Diggia can't help but stare at the scene, because Enea looks simply perfect.

He checked, the truth serum makes it impossible to lie in general, wether to other people or to the affected individual itself. So each and every thought he's having is real, true, undeniably his.

He takes off his shorts, because God forbid he wears a shirt when he's in his motorhome, and he's left in boxers, the bulge visible already, while Enea is just wearing boxers and his damn white undersuit.

He wants to bite his tongue, to shut up before causing damages, but he's not quick enough.

"Leave the undersuit on, it's hot" fuck stupid ass idiot you're a dickhead

"Didn't take you for that type of things but yeah, as you wish Fabio"

Enea sits on the edge of the bed, he's clearly hard already, grey boxers doing nothing to hide it. And Diggia would stand there staring, but the need to make him feel good is stronger, and he quickly gets on his knees, tugging down Enea's boxers, who bites his lip and gets a hand in Diggia's hair.

Enea is bigger than him, not by far, but he's still longer, so his first attempts at swallowing him don't go too far, but nonetheless he manages to get more than half of his cock in his mouth, moving with a rhythmic pace and humming when near the base.

"You should do this more often you know Fabio? I bet you'd be able to take me whole after a few tries, you're so good already"

He fucking moans at the praise, causing Enea to buck his hips and make him choke. He lets go of his cock to cough, then gets back to working Enea up, using his hand to cover the part he can't yet reach with his mouth. Enea feels even bigger, his throat clenching around him, and the older is fucking loving it

Once Diggia resumes his pace is really not long before Enea needs to cum, and since the other today seems pretty up to doing thing he usually does, he forces him to let go, tilting his head back.

"I'm gonna cum on your face ok? You like that fabio" "Yes yes please do it" "You're so fucking needy today, open your mouth"

Diggia complies, opening up and taking his tongue out, and three seconds later he can taste the bitter taste of cum on his tongue, drops falling on his lips and cheeks as well, as Enea throws his head back moaning.

Diggia swallows everything, licking his lips and before he can do it Enea collects all that's left with his thumb, then presents it to Diggia, that sucks it clean making Enea moan again.

Now Diggia is really fucking hard, he needs to fuck Enea right now.

"On. Get on the bed Fabio, no don't worry about the lube, I prepped myself before coming here, figured it'd be better, right?"

And Diggia would normally say yes, it's better like this, but this fucking truth serum doesn't let him lie. Not in the slightest.

"Could've done it myself, I like watching you when I open you up" "Ah really? Well next time I promise you will ok?" "Ok" "Now get on with hit and fuck me"

Diggia doesn't wait, immediately taking off his boxers, squirts some lube on it and strokes his dick a few times. He didn't lie, he can't, about the under suit, but when he fucks him he wants to be able to leave marks, bites, hickeys, bruises all over his torso, hand-shaped bruises on Enea's hips looking sinfully attractive.

"Take - the undersuit I wanna see you without it, please"

Enea has never seen this side of Diggia, he sounds almost pathetic. God it's hot. He doesn't answer, just gets naked completely, laying down on the bed as Diggia parts his legs to get comfortable between them. He hooks one leg over his shoulder and pushes his cock inside, it goes without resistance, and it already has him moaning.

"Come on" "Yeah yeah ok"

The pace he sets is rude and quick from the start, Enea sounding so angelic already, he wants to kiss him, god he wants to kiss him and never stop doing it, he wants to make him his in every way, mark not only his chest, that can be easily covered, but his neck too, so high it can't be hidden, but displayed for the world to see.

"Fuck Fabio there, again, there please god yes like that"

He hits his prostate, again and again and again, moaning in his ear and panting hot air on his neck, wishing he could just sink his teeth there, in the invitingly soft flesh.

"Enea you're so good fuck I can't - I dreamt of doing this last night" "Mh don't stop, tell me that again" "You feel perfect around me I swear, every time we fuck I want it to last longer, want to keep you here in my bed forever"

It's all Enea needs to cum, hard and fast all over the sheets, moaning Diggia's name and clenching around his cock.

One, two, three, four thrusts and Diggia is coming too, and he's too close to Enea's ear, too taken from the moment, too fucking earnest.

"I love you"

He doesn't even realize it until he's filling Enea up, what he said can't be taken back, he's coming inside him and just told Enea the three words he swore to himself he's never tell him.

Fuck nononono he's gonna leave he'sgonnaleavehe'sgonnahateme he's never gonna look at me in the eyes again

Diggia pulls out in fear, staining the sheets, Enea turns around, half shock half surprise written on his face.

"Sorry sorry Bestia fuck" "No Diggia wait you said-" "C'ho sta roba che devo di per forza a verità e che me sta a fa impazzire, non posso mentirte Enea, non ce riesco, io me so innamorato de te e non so che cazzo fa"

They're still naked and panting from their orgasms, Diggia not looking at Enea in the eyes, too scared and disgusted with himself. Not being able to lie to himself comes with accepting the fact he does like guys, a lot, maybe even more than girls. And it's scary.

"C'ho paura Enea, che mo so frocio e te me odi e non me vuoi più vedere perché te faccio schifo" "Diggia" "Don't hate me please, don't hate me" "Fabio, look at me"

He does, because he's basically being forced to do it. Enea taking his face between his hands and looking at him with - softness?

"Fabio are you serious about the truth thing? You are not lying?" "No, it's like a serum or some shit in one of my painkillers" "Ok. I trust you. Now, can you say that again?" "What again?" "Tell me the truth, how you feel about me" "I love you" "Again" "I love you"

Enea kisses him, and it's not one of their usual rushed and bruising kisses, it's gentle, caring, slow.

"You. Fabio you have no idea how fucking long I wanted to hear these words coming from you" "What do you mean? You were the one who said no staying over, or no kissing unless we're fucking, or no -" "I was scared you idiot. Scared you'd hate me"

Diggia wants to punch himself in the face right now.

"No no no Enea I could never hate you no, I love you, have loved you for a long time now, I want to be with you, properly, want to kiss you and hold you after we have sex, and stay over"

Enea smiles again, and to Diggia it's perfection again, perfection made human, hopefully made his.

"I'll stay then, as long as you want, I'm not going anywhere, I love you Fabio, I'm so glad that stupid serum got you to tell the truth" "Me too"

They kiss again, and it feels like two puzzle pieces fitting together after being apart in a box full of extra pieces, trying to find each other.

Put That Guy in a SituationTM Ask Game/Prompt!

[luvtonique]

I just woke up and I chose violence let's go.

Look all I'm sayin' is

If you're gonna attack AI generative art

You should, for the same reason, attack Toby Fox.

The reason I've seen the most for people not liking AI is that it's not "Real art" and that it "Takes jobs from artists" and that it "Steals from other artists"

Well, then, let's talk about how Hopes and Dreams by Toby Fox uses fake Violins to mimic a symphony orchestra. Toby could have hired a real orchestra but he used a fake one and y'all came in your drawers over it.

Why'd nobody ever lift a finger to cover social media in how Toby Fox doesn't deserve to make money because his song "Undertale" uses a fake guitar that sounds just like a real one? He could have hired a musician to play guitar but he didn't! That cost a REAL guitar player a job, didn't it?

And how come when it was found out that Toby Fox stole entire lietmotifs from other games like Kirby n shit, y'all had like 600,000,000 excuses to defend him?

I don't dislike Toby I think he's amazing, like 100/10, one'a the brightest examples of a success story of all time and one of the nicest most pure-hearted people on earth who made two of my favorite games of all time and a ton of my favorite music. Spider Dance has been my ring tone for like 8 years.

I'm just saying, the literal same reasons I see people attacking AI gen art is shit that Toby does, all of it, and y'all worship Toby for it but attack artists.

And neither here nor there, but hear me out?

Y'all will say you're in defense of artists keeping their jobs and their livelihoods which is so very noble of you, but if an artist draws shortstacks that are just a little too short, or if an artist utilizes AI, or if an artist draws Rose Quartz skinny, or if an artist draws Sans and Frisk getting a little too Frisky, or if an artist votes for Trump, or if an artist says a dirty word you don't like, or if an artist draws a black person that looks just a little bit too stereotypical, or if an artist draws a lesbian character getting fucked, or if an artist doesn't believe in gender identities, or if an artist doesn't put trans characters in their graphic novel, or if an artist makes a sexy character with butt-jiggle the protagonist of their video game; Y'ALL ARE COMPLETELY OKAY WITH SAYING THAT ARTIST SHOULDN'T BE MAKING MONEY, AND BANDWAGONING A HATEMONGERING BRIGADE AGAINST THEM.

Or in the Sans and Frisk case: PUT SEWING NEEDLES INSIDE OF COOKIES AND GIVE THEM TO THE ARTIST WHO DREW IT, PUTTING THEM IN THE HOSPITAL.

Listen

Spare me this "We hate AI because we care about the jobs of artists" shit, you lying scoundrels. You don't care about my job! You've tried to cancel me like 500 goddamn times, got my Patreon frozen twice, got my PayPal frozen over 100 times even right in the middle of conventions, flooded my stream chat and spammed the N-word in chat trying to get my Twitch banned, flooded my Discord multiple times with links to CP trying to get my Discord banned, and you have entire Discord servers literally called things like "Jay is an asshole" and "The We Hate Jay Society" (YEAH I KNOW YOU FUCKERS EXIST, HI, HAVE FUN SCREENCAPPING THIS).

My artistic career has been under fire for the past 12 years because I draw things y'all disagree with, have opinions you don't like, and have family members who vote for politicians you think are the boogeyman that's the cause of all your problems (and haven't disowned those family members). With all due respect, when I hear "We hate AI because we believe in fair wages for artists and want to protect the jobs of artists" I just wanna strangle your lying ass.

You hate AI because it's popular to hate AI.

AI is like a prosthetic robot arm that helps you carry the groceries, and disabled people like myself (rheumatoid arthritis) benefit from its uses greatly (such as being able to draw backgrounds much easier which has greatly improved my art and INCREASED MY COMMISSION REVENUE DUE TO MY ART QUALITY IMPROVING [But y'all don't care that AI helps artists earn more money, you hate AI because you claim it's hurting artists' ability to earn money]), but you're so hung up on people using the robot arm instead of their real arms that you think you're some crusader against injustice.

You aren't.

You're just looking for reasons to attack people, it's what you do. I've been dealing with y'all looking for any goddamn reason to attack someone that you can muster for the last 12 years, hell even before that I dealt with you types. You just want to hate, you want to be prejudiced so fucking bad that you look for literally any reason you can possibly find to make some vaguepost about how much you hate an artist and post it to Reddit, and then when you get called out, get so surprised that I found your bitch ass that you start pretending you didn't mean any ill will, and start pretending that you're someone else in the most pathetic attempt to dodge blame I've ever seen.

[Context: The OP of this post accidentally revealed who they are on Tumblr, and then when I called them out on Tumblr, they pretended they were someone else because they were scared I was gonna out them on Tumblr and they tried pathetically to cover their ass, and even politely said "I never wanted to garner hate against you" when they literally posted "I hate the way he draws women" on r/mendrawingwomen and flooded the comment section (mostly now deleted) with how "disgusting of a person" I am, while I was in the comments politely giving context to the shit he was saying about me, and he started getting furious when other people were liking my art and agreeing with me instead of him. I have like 600 screencaps of all the cringe this guy spewed, but I'm not gonna post it all because it's tangential anyway. Case in point? This guy's blog is absolutely covered with how much he hates artists for drawing things he doesn't like, and he regularly posts about how AI is taking jobs from artists. Not gonna out his blog, but that's who he is. A shining example of exactly what I'm talking about. "I hate AI because it takes jobs from artists!" "THIS MAN-THING DRAWS WOMEN IN A WAY I DON'T LIKE AND HE'S A DISGUSTING PERSON, EVERYONE JOIN ME IN HATING HIM AND TRYING TO RUIN HIS REPUTATION AND THEN WE CAN CELEBRATE WHEN HE LOSES HIS JOB!!!"]

Like, y'all can sit there and act like you're defending me and artists like me all you want, you're liars. You're boldfaced fucking liars. You are disgusting. It's completely pathetic watching you attack a tool that can be used to improve our art, and claim it's in defense of the authenticity of our art and the continued financial stability of our artistic careers. Fucking give me a break.

You're looking for people who say positive things about AI art so you can attack them and feel justified because it's popular to attack them.

All while sitting there and gladly swallowing the cum of any musician who makes amazing music with synths, fake symphony instruments and autotune.

"We care about the jobs of artists."

Yeah.

Long as those artists fall in line with your opinions and only draw things that agree with said opinions, right?

Wouldn't wanna care about the jobs of "problematic" artists who draw "offensive" stuff or vote for politicians you don't like.

Final note: This isn't even an attack against any political opinions or activism or anything like that, but I'm being realistic here because these are the people I see brigading against AI art. It's not me saying those people are dumb for having their opinions or political standpoints or being activists for their beliefs, it's me saying those people are the ones who are constantly attacking AI art in "defense of artists," while in the same breath attacking artists for not sharing their political standpoints or also being activists for the same causes. If you truly, truly cared about the livelihood of artists, you'd stop attacking artists' livelihood for disagreeing with you. Or for that matter: Any reason. Stop attacking artists' livelihood, or stop pretending you care about it. Be consistent, at least.

[alex-guerin]

So, I'm having kind of an AITA moment here. And I'm not real sure what to do...

The company I work for is opening up a new warehouse in Missouri. Now, I'm not a huge fan of the state, but the cost of living is - from what I understand - relatively low, so that's kinda dope. One of my buddies at work went down to the new warehouse (he's a training lead) and while down there, they offered him a job, a couple of raises (one effective as soon as he gets down there and the other in June) AND a "pretty substantial relocation package."

I'm like, dude, that's sick, take me with you! Lucas (buddy) goes, "bro, while I was down there, they literally told me, like, if I knew of anybody here who I thought was good at what they do, to like send them their way cuz they want really good people for the warehouse. So, yeah, they'll relocate you if you transfer down there."

And here is where it began.

They are willing to give relocation packages to people wanting to transfer down there. Like, this is my chance to get my own place and start over fresh. I have no idea how much money Lucas is considering a "substantial" amount, but he is going back down there this week to look at houses, so like, it's enough to at the very least put a down payment on a place. I dunno.

Here's the thing, the only reason my parents moved out of their dilapidated old house (and I mean that literally, it needs to be condemned, not even exaggerating) was because I promised to move with them and go halfsies on the mortgage with my dad. I found this house we're in now, it's great...even if my mom has turned the downstairs and basement into essentially a hoarders den and since my bro's cat has moved in we've become over run with flies...like...SO. MANY. FLIES. But I digress. We've had the house basically 4 years now...it'll be 4 years in July, and here I am suddenly going, "Ooo!! Shiny new air conditioned warehouse where I'd have at least a bit of seniority and a chance to be a primary lift driver instead of the backup, AND I wouldn't have to deal with Chris!!" (Chris is my arch nemesis. I have been complaining about his treatment towards me for the last year, and NOTHING has been done about it) Not only that, there's the whole thing of my dad's health not being fantastic.

Well, I keep thinking about the chance to move out on my own again, actually be handed the money to buy a home (it's just me, I don't need or even want a big place, and I've found quite a few on zillow that I could totally live with) when I had pretty much resigned myself to never being able to save up enough to buy one on my own, start over in a new state, a new warehouse with equipment that most likely WORKS and I'm just like, I think I really wanna give this a try.

So, I texted my mom about it last night, asking how badly me moving to Missouri would screw them over with the house, cuz I know I said I'd help pay for it, etc, but that Ace is offering to pay to relocate me, I'm kind of seriously considering it. She answers back, "Well. I can't stop you, but right now is REALLY not a great time. Especially with your dad's health stuff and all. I can't believe you'd even think about it right now."

And I'm like, right. Okay. Message received. Trapped forever. Got it. Thanks. I'm officially an asshole.

I texted a couple of friends about it, just wanting to vent and cry about missed opportunities and whatever, and they both told me pretty much the same exact thing, "Fuck that!! You take care of you and you GET OUT!! Take that opportunity and run!" But I'm like, I did basically make a commitment to helping them pay for the house, and yeah, I know my dad's health isn't great right now...but I also feel like if I talked to him about it, he'd tell me to "do what you gotta do, Butch. I'm not going anywhere, and we'll get things worked out here. We always do, somehow." But he downplays his health so much, like, yeah. I worry about him a lot and I want to spend as much time with him as I can...but I have no idea when I'll have another opportunity like this. And I have about hit my wits end when it comes to dealing with Chris and his bullshittery. Like, really would like to look for a new job because of him. I have almost 4 years at Ace, I really DON'T want to start over somewhere else, plus there's really NOT a lot around me that pays half-way decently.

I dunno. Am I the Asshole my mother apparently thinks me to be? Am I a horrible person for giving this even a passing consideration? Should I do like my two friends suggested and just go for it anyway? Or do I just go back to my old reliable of grin and bear it and resign myself to the fact I am trapped under their roof forever?

[btskitten7]

Silent Grace | x : "When it's good, it's bad"

Ship: Min Yoongi x Fem reader

au/genre: Mafia!au

rating: M

wc: 4k

Chapter warnings: some shady business is going on.

summary: It's Yoongi's big day!! ...maybe

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast

Things died down after some time. Yoongi didn’t talk much about the altercation between him and Hoseok. You could tell the pain he harbored for Hoseok. You could only imagine what could have happened between the two. No matter how badly you wanted to ask him, you wouldn’t dare. Undoubtedly, it was a touchy subject, and you wanted Yoongi to be open about that on his own. You knew it was intense.

It was intense enough that Yoonig’s younger brothers practically didn’t exist in his world. His father practically wrote them off. You had to admit that you wanted to know more but you did not want to push any more than what he was willing to share. It was crazy to think that you had been talking to the very one that your man hated without even realizing it. You wondered if that was why Yoongi lost his mind when you came home.

‘Be for real y/n. Of course that is the reason’ you spat to yourself.

You assumed that since Jungkook worked with you, he probably told him about it. You couldn't say you were surprised, and you weren't upset about it either. It was already in the past, and there was no need to bring it up again. Now that you knew Yoongi didn't like him, you had to avoid him and his friends at all costs, especially since they had that big fight.

Realistically, you didn’t have a reason to talk to them any further. You no longer worked at the hospital so you shouldn’t be seeing them anymore. They don’t know where you live so you had nothing to worry about there.

You still felt guilty nevertheless.

While you were deep in your thoughts, you felt Yoongi shift around on his side of the bed, turning his body to face you, briefly opening his eyes, he noticed that you were awake. He lifted his head to look at his phone that was placed behind him, checking the time. He sucked his teeth and laid back down.

“Blossom, it’s 3 in the morning, why are you still up?” Yoongi mumbled as he wrapped his arm loosely around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You turned to face him admiring his beauty underneath the moonlight. His eyes were closed but you could still imagine the sleepy eyes he would give you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, playing with the loose stans gently before answering. “I’m just thinking about stuff, my mind won’t sleep” you answer. Yoongi opened his eyes and looked into yours. He was searching your gaze as you continued to play with his hair. “Thinking about what? If it’s about the fight, you have nothing to worry about, he will not put a hand on you. He’s an asshole but he isn’t dumb.” you shook your head with a small giggle.

“It’s not just the fight itself, it’s the guy too. I didn’t realize you knew him and had a bad history. I just didn’t think Seoul was that small.” You answered putting your hands back under your pillow.

“How could you have known who he was? I didn’t even know it was him you were talking about until Jungkook told me. It’s not your fault, you were just doing your job.” Yoongi hummed in agreement.

“Yeah but technically, I saved your enemy and accepted gifts from him” you admitted but Yoongi just shrugged. “You thought those gifts were from me and I don’t expect you to kill anyone for me.”

You sighed. “I know, but I still feel bad about it.”

“Why? What would have you done differently if you had known I hated him? You wouldn’t have done your job?” Yoongi asked seriously.

You were a bit taken aback by the question. Honestly, although you felt bad, you really couldn’t think of what you would have done or even could have done.

Yoongi chuckled and kissed your lips softly.

“Exactly, Blossom. Don’t worry about it,” Yoongi said, pulling you closer to him. “It’s all in the past now. I don’t hold anything against you. I think it would be unreasonable of me to be upset with you when you didn’t know”

You snuggled up against him, grateful for his understanding. You knew that he was right and that there was nothing you could have done differently.

“Now, blossom, get some sleep,” Yoongi grumbled as he scooted closer to you and tried to go back to sleep. But you still couldn’t sleep. Yoongi knew you too well. “What now blossom?” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, baby but…what am I going to do now? I’m going to be alone a lot since you’re going to be going back and forth doing your mafia stuff” You pouted softly. Yoongi chuckled “Mafia stuff?”

You hit his arm slightly “Yes mafia stuff” you whined hitting his arm.

“It’s not mafia stuff, it’s business,” Yoongi said. “And you’re not alone, you have me”

“But you’re not always going to be here,” you said. “What if something happens to you?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” Yoongi said. “I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself”

“I know you can,” you said. “But I still worry about you”

“I know you do,” Yoongi said. “And I appreciate it. But I promise I’ll be fine. Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jungkook are always with me.”

“I can protect you too!” You said sitting up a bit. That tickled Yoongi as he began to chuckle sleepily.

“I will call you if I need you to,” Yoongi said pulling you back down to him. “Trust me.”

You sighed and snuggled closer to him. “Okay,” you said. “I trust you”

“Good,” Yoongi said. “Now get some sleep”

You closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi and his mafia stuff. You knew he was a good man, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. You hoped he would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After the altercation with Hoseok, it spread like wildfire. Min found out about it rather quickly and was amused. He didn’t think his son would show his true colors in front of you, at least not in that way. He wasn’t a bit surprised about Yoongi’s sudden violence, he knew his son had a short temper, and that’s how he raised him. Min was a tough man, and he wanted his son to be tough too. Especially after that night too. He taught Yoongi how to fight, how to stand up for himself, and how to never back down from a challenge. Min was proud of the man his son had become, even if he didn’t always agree with his methods.

Min knew that Yoongi had a good heart, but he also knew that he could be hot-headed. He hoped Yoongi would learn to use his temper and properly run the family he knew he could. He was worried you’d be a distraction to him but seeing you bring the anger out of him, more than he could, he knew you needed to stay for the long run. And he was going to ensure you did. You had a hold over Yoongi in a way that he and the family never did. His other sons used to have that same hold but since they’ve been eradicated from the family, it doesn’t matter. But you? He had to make sure you never even think about leaving.

No matter what it took.

“I almost can’t believe he took the bait” Kim joked. Min chuckled nodding as he took a sip of his champagne. “Hoseok always knew how to press Yoongi’s buttons.”

“People in love do unthinkable things. He’s in love, Kim. He'll do anything to protect her as long as his little flower is around. Either to keep his secret or to shield her from how we operate. At first, I thought this would be a problem, but it may be to our advantage. He’d do anything to keep her safe.”

While the men were talking, Yoongi was escorted to his father’s office, clearly annoyed.

As he walked his father’s halls, he heard the whispers about him and Hoseok.

“Do you want us to go in with you?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon did not want to go in with Yoongi. His father had left a bad taste in his mouth since their last meeting and he wasn’t in any rush to be in the same room for him.

“No. It’s not going to last that long. Just wait for me out here.”

Yoongi strolled into the dimly lit office, his hands resting in his pants pockets as he looked around his father’s forever-changing office. He knew it was his mother's doing. She loved decorating and if she changed one part of the house, the whole house got changed. It was one of her many ways of coping with the fact her husband and her sons weren’t the dream family she dreamed of.

Min’s amused eyes met with Yoongi’s cold gaze. The room quickly grew thick as the tension rose between them.

“I thought you didn’t fight anymore son,” Min said condescendingly, only irking Yoongi more.

This fight has been the topic of every conversation since it happened. He talked about it so much, that he grew annoyed each time it was brought up, even more than hearing Hoseok’s name. It got to the point where he threatened to hurt anyone who brought it up while he was around.

“I don’t fight until you push me to that point,” Yoongi said as he lifted his hand toward the woman offering him a glass of champagne. “I don’t like to act that way.”

Min chuckled.

“What was it like seeing your best friend again? It seems Yn is pretty acquainted with him. You should invite him over” Min poked causing Kim to laugh. “You know old times sake?”

“If your goal is to piss me off then I can go attend to my business,” Yoongi said in a monotone fashion.

“No, I’m just curious as to what the hell were you thinking,” Min began, his voice dripping with disappointment. “What made you react in such a way?”

“Hoseok crossed the line like he always does. He disrespected me as well as Seokjin. We tried to walk away but he insisted on continuing. If I don’t talk disrespect from you what makes you think I’d take it from the likes of him?”

“And fighting in the middle of a restaurant was earning your respect?” Min raised his eyebrow with a sly smirk.

Yoongi balled his fist in his pockets as he listened to his father. “He started it, I just ended it. Hoseok is a fucking snake, there’s no telling what he could have done and Yn was there, I needed to protect her.” his voice laced with anger.

Min scoffed, “You sound like a child. ‘He started it, so I ended it’ Please Yoongi.”

Min leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to Yoongi. “I raised you to fight, yes but I raised you to be proper. You both should have stood outside and handled your business. As for Yn, you shouldn’t even be out with her. Seen with her. She may not know who you are but everyone else knows who you are and now they know who she is. “ Min started “You fight with your mind first then your assets. That’s the whole point of having soldiers. They handle small things like this.”

“Is this a new philosophy you’ve pulled from your ass, father? I don’t think I’ve heard this one.” Yoongi asked with a dark chuckle leaving his lips. An unsettling silence filled the room as the father and son locked dark gazes.

“If you want to take a stand, do it in a more, fashionable way. Fighting in the middle of a restaurant makes you look tacky and could lose the trust of the community. Imagine if the police had gotten a sick up their ass and tried to arrest you. What a drag that would be. You need to remember. The community trusts me and they know me. They trust you as my son but just because you have my last name does not mean you’d be able to open the same doors I can. You wouldn’t want to lose the crown before you even obtained it.” Min scoffed.

“Fashionable? The only fashion I care about is the one that makes me money. I gave Hoseok a chance, years ago when I told him to get lost and never come back. I gave him a chance when he turned my brothers against me-”

“You don’t have brothers.” Min snapped.

Yoongi sighed and shook his head “Regardless, I gave him a chance to walk away and he chose to return. I’m not going to play nicely.”

“Very well, Yoongi. You might want to keep your little blossom behind closed doors if you must make a point. You never know what could happen. I’d keep her on a tight leash if I were you”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “She’s not a dog and I already know that. You don’t have to worry about her, I’m going to protect her before I do anything else.”

“Whatever you say, son,” Min said with a sly smirk once again.

Yoongi knew his father was up to something and he didn’t care to find out. He had other things to worry about.

“Oh before you leave, don’t forget that in a few days, it’s time for the ceremony. You need to figure out where Y/n is going to be in your life.”

Yoongi sighed before leaving his father’s office.

~~~~~

Hoseok had no idea he was going to fight with Yoongi. It amused him to know that he still had that effect on him. On top of that, Yoongi confirmed his relationship with you. So that made things all the more exciting.

“So I guess we’ve gotten one step closer to finding out who Yn is,” Taehyung said stretching his hands which were still a bit sore from the fight a few nights ago. “I can’t say that I am surprised though. He’s always been a helpless romantic.” he finished sarcastically.

“She looks so familiar though. The more I look at her the more I feel like I’ve seen her before.” Jimin said.

“Because she went to the same school as Yoongi,” Felix said coming in with his phone in hand and showing them the articles he had found. “She graduated the same year as Yoongi and shared a few of the-”

“Same classes.” a forgotten voice said, causing the men to turn around with wide eyes.

“Ji-hoon…when did you get here? I thought you decided to stay behind in Japan” Jimin said.

“Yeah, that was the plan until Hoseok told me about the altercation with my brother. I needed to come down and see what was going on. I felt it was time for a family reunion.” He chuckled as he made himself comfortable next to Hoseok on the couch.

The men were shocked as he sat so calmly. Ji-hoon hasn’t been in Korea for years. After everything had happened, his father told him if he had ever shown his face again, it’d be the last time anyone would see his face.

“I didn’t think you’d come so soon after us. If anything I thought you’d wait a year at least.” Hoseok said.

Ji-hoon chuckled. “I wanted to see if my father was going to keep his promise to me” Hoseok chuckles but Taehyung and Jimin do not.

“That’s not funny. Your father is fucking crazy. I don’t think he is okay in the head. He will kill you. He already pretends that Yoongi is his only child” Taehyung said.

“Oh, I’m not concerned about that. My mother wouldn’t allow that to happen. No matter how much my father THINKS he is in control. I think I should pay them a visit and my new sister-in-law? Hm?”

Hoesok chuckled as he turned towards Ji-hoon. “Your brother is a bit defensive when it comes to his little blossom”

Ji-hoon eyes widen as he tilts his head. “Blossom? Mm, he used to write about a blossom a lot when we were younger. Some girl he saw at school. I’ve never seen her.”

Hoseok smirked and looked at Jimin and Taehyung.

“You’ll see her soon enough”

Jimin sighed and stood to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asked. Jimin stopped but he didn’t turn around.

“I have something to attend to”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a late, cold evening and the sun is just beginning to set over the horizon. The crisp winter air carries the sound of light snowfall as it blankets the city in a layer of white. In the Min family's grand estate, preparations are already underway for the evening's dinner party. Yoongi was up early, feeling a mixture of anticipation and dread as he prepared to head to his father's estate. Kai had woken up early to prepare the suit he was to wear, all he needed to do was hop in the shower and get ready.

Yoongi was nervous but overall ready to finally take things into his own hands. The weight on his shoulder has gotten a bit lighter since he told you, mostly, everything. He doesn’t have to hide as much anymore which was something that caused him to suffocate. He was ready to experience the world with you.

He thought of all the places he was going to take you now that you were not going to work anymore. Yoongi wasn’t going to take you to meetings and things like that but he did plan on keeping you as close as possible.

After tonight, things could get a bit messy.

Although this is strictly for the Min family, a few extras always manage to get in. There are plenty of women his father has messed with that will find their way into this party, cause problems, or beg his father to figure out a way for them to “join the family.” They’ll do anything to make their lives a living hell for a few hours.

His father has tried to set him up with countless women throughout his life. Some his age and others older. Even though Yoongi made it clear that he was locked in with you, his father insisted.

After Yoongi got dressed, he went to Kai to look for you.

“How do I look?” Yoongi asked fixing his tie. You turned to face him with a smile, standing to your feet, you helped him with his tie.

“You look very handsome.” You kissed his cheeks softly. He looked at you with so much love as he leaned down and kissed your lips. “Thank you, Blossom. Are you ready?”

You nodded and turned to grab your purse.

“I’m ready! I’m also nervous. This is huge for you!” you say grabbing his hand as he held his out towards you.

“It is. I’m just as nervous as you but you don’t have anything to be nervous about.” Yoongi smiled as he led you to the car.

~~~~~~~~

The party is to be held in the grand ballroom, with the whole family and associates in attendance. There will be delicious food prepared by the family's chef, festive decorations, and plenty of guests. As the festivities begin, Yoongi's father will take the stage and make a grand announcement - he is handing over the reins of the Min family business to Yoongi.

Yoongi’s mind was traveling miles a minute. As much as he was pleased to finally have the final say, he was still nervous. Anyone would be. He wasn’t nervous about his abilities, he knew that he could run circles around his father. He was more nervous about the select few who weren’t happy about him taking over.

His father still had die-hard “fans” as Seokjin liked to call them.

This is a momentous occasion for the Min family, and everyone is eager to see what the future holds. Yoongi can feel the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders, but he also knows that without his father's guidance, he can make the best decisions for the family. After a few speeches and toasts, the dinner party will end with a grand fireworks display, signifying the transition of power from Yoongi's father to himself.

You looked around at all the decorations. You were starstruck. Yoongi’s parents’ home was always beautiful but tonight, it was truly beautiful.

Yoongi stood behind you with his arms wrapped around you loosely. He was sipping the last bit of his liquor as you were finishing your wine.

Most people figured that Yoongi would be all over the place. Getting drunk, mingling with people or boasting about it. But he didn’t. He was ready to be the one calling the shots, the one that led his family to generational wealth. He wanted to make sure that long after he was gone his kids’ kids’ kids would be okay.

He didn’t want to be flashy like his father. Yoongi did not want to add anything more for someone to be pissed off about.

Yoongi passed his glass off to the waiter as he watched his father stand at the top of the grand staircase. With a mic in hand, Min was ready to give his grand toast finally saying what everyone was ready to hear.

A roaring applause filled the room as Min stood in place looking over those that were under him. After a few minutes, the claps came to a halt and Min had the full attention of everyone.

“I want to thank everyone for coming out here and celebrating with us this evening. I want to personally thank you for coming out tonight,” he started, “ Today is a very special day. A day that I’ve been waiting for since I first laid eyes on my eldest son. He has been reliable since the very beginning. Always wanted to know and learn about the business and how to make it better than me or my father had ever done. He watched very closely and adapted to everything we needed him to be and his ideas, oh, they’ve been wonderful. He’s thought about businesses that I would have never even thought about. Who knew Yn could get him into buying property and getting into real estate.” Min smirked as the crowd laughed and clapped.

You nor Yoongi were laughing. Yoongi sighed. “So, that was your cover-up?” You asked taking another sip of your wine. “Blossom, please do not start.” He whispered. “I’m not mad, not even surprised,” you said.

“Today is the day that things will change. A new leader will step forth and take over, leading us to victory. This person has kept me informed of everything that’s been going on from every aspect, even aspects that I didn’t even know. He’s trustworthy and I believe he will be the best placeholder until the next change in leadership. Let’s call this a test run shall we?”

Yoongi looked at his father confused. “What the hell is he talking about?” Seokjin whispered to Yoongi. “I don’t fucking know, he’s a lunatic,” Yoongi whispered back. You get a bad feeling in your stomach. It honestly made you want to vomit. You gripped Yoongi’s arm gently and sat your glass of wine down.

“Are you okay, Blossom?” Yoongi asked signaling Jungkook to take your glass from you. “Yeah, I just feel a little nauseous. I need to slow down on the wine maybe.” You said as Yoongi pulled a stool out for you to sit in.

“Now, I want to call my son up here. I want him to be on my side with this.” Min said with a smirk.

Yoongi sighed and turned to Seokjin “Make sure she’s okay.” he said before he walked up the long staircase and stood next to his father.

“Now son…you have impressed me beyond belief. You are so smart, a literal genius. I know you can bring this family to new heights,” he started before wrapping his arm around Yoongi and looking directly at you. “But…,” Min sighed which caused the room to tense up, “I fear you are not ready…”

The room was filled with gasps and whispers. You and Seokjin looked at each other before looking back at Yoongi.

He was pissed beyond belief.

“And what do you mean by that father?”

“I think you need to learn a bit more before I pass it to you. At this time I will announce the one who will be taking your place for now.” Min said with a smile. “It’s pretty close to home as well,” he said rubbing Yoongi’s shoulders

“The new leader of the Min Family is…”

“Kim Namjoon”  

[ncisladaily]

Max’s clutch drama about a fictitious Pittsburgh hospital and the harried professionals who work inside the emergency room came to a breathless and (mostly) satisfying conclusion Thursday. Some issues have yet to be resolved — like whether Noah Wyle’s Dr. Robby has the mental capacity to continue his thankless job as the attending physician, if Patrick Ball’s Langdon deserves to keep his job and whether Katherine LaNasa’s Dana has worked her last day as the unofficial den mother.

And does Gerran Howell’s Whitaker really know what he’s doing by moving in with Isa Briones’ Santos?

Here, Executive Producer John Wells and EP/Creator R. Scott Gemmill break down the first season and reveal how keeping costs in check wasn’t the main reason for limiting the action to one room (but it boy, it sure helped).

DEADLINE When you were conceiving this show, how much did economics come into play when you were putting the idea together?

R. SCOTT GEMMILL Yes and no. I said the next job I was going to do, I was never going to leave the set. The job can be hard on the crews when you’re out working nights and you’re all over the place. So the thought of doing a stage show was kind of appealing. And then ultimately, we came around to doing a medical show. It was a perfect combination of being in one spot and being able to tell great stories.

DEADLINE John, is it more affordable?

JOHN WELLS Very. But again, that’s not the primary consideration. I think the consideration was how do you actually show what medical professionals, nurses, and doctors are going through now in urban hospitals, in the emergency rooms. We’ve all stayed in contact with a lot of the people who we worked with on ER who were physicians. Noah Wyle just started to be overwhelmed with people letting him know how horrible it was and how many people had died, and this sense that we were going to forget about it somehow. It ended up being very financially advantageous to shoot this way, but it’s also the best way to tell the story. It was about determining what the story was and then realizing that it would actually be a much more financially effective way to shoot it. We live in these smaller worlds, in these smaller spaces. Part of the reaction of the show is it’s a human level show. It exists where we exist. We are going into spaces and meeting people that you meet all day long in your own life. Audiences love both. They want to go to places they’ve never been before. And they also want to be connected to what’s really in their day-to-day life. Again, the economics work out well, but that wasn’t the reason that anybody set out to do this.

DEADLINE There have been so many compliments about The Pitt being realistic. Isn’t that the kind of positive feedback you got on ER?

JOHN WELLS It’s always relative to what else is on or what else people have seen. ER felt extremely real and part of the reason was in the pilot, we shot in a real hospital. When we built the set for the rest of the episodes, we were mimicking the real hospital we had been in and did exactly the same thing we’re doing now, which is a lot of doctors who were involved in the show were on the set and in the writer’s room. So that really makes the difference. But yeah, we absolutely had that reputation on ER.

DEADLINE Viewers appreciated Noah Wyle’s depiction of an ER doctor even more after seeing his mental breakdown. This is, of course, depicted as a weakness on his part. But viewers didn’t care. Is that the reaction you were expecting?

GEMMILL He never dealt with his feelings and the repercussions of Covid. We all have things that we try to stuff down and forget about. Over time, I think as we get older, hopefully we realize that it’s not the best solution. Eventually that stuff will find its way out. In that episode, that’s when Robby found his way out and hopefully now that it’s out, he can learn to deal with it and move on.

WELLS We’re always trying to write complicated human beings. And when you write people in all of their complexity, there are moments at which point they seem like you could classify them as anti-heroes and there other moments when they may seem heroic. You’re never all of one thing, which I think what Scott’s referring to.

DEADLINE What kind of feedback have you been receiving for the show?

GEMMILL We get feedback constantly. I mean, one of the things that we really strive to do here is to involve medical professionals in the process. We talk to them across the board, everything from PTSD specialists to people dealing with the AMA to people dealing with immigration. So when we talk to we always ask what are some of the things that we don’t see? What part of your job isn’t really known to the public? What would you like people to know about your profession?

DEADLINE Is that what happened with the measles storyline? Talk about timing!

WELLS Everybody in the medical profession has been concerned for years about the anti-vaccination …. I would call it a crisis, particularly with children not being vaccinated in sequence. It was just inevitably going to happen. That story was [broken] months ago, as most are. We’re constantly going to trip over these things because we’re asking questions about what people are worried about. And they do happen. We had the same thing happen all the time on The West Wing, where we seemed to be ahead of something that was just happening and we were shooting eight, nine months in advance. But that’s because we’re doing our research with the political professionals and medical professionals who are telling us what they’re worried about and then it shows up.

GEMMILL I think the biggest difference between now is we were never dealing with the level of disinformation that is being disseminated to the public. People trusted their doctors. There may have been some who had the odd misinformation about old wives tales, but it wasn’t like it is now where people are coming in with the whole Dr. Google thing or they’re on these far extreme websites. It’s just rampant. And that’s a big challenge for doctors to try and convince people that what they’re trying to do is help them.

DEADLINE I want to get in the weeds a little bit with some of the plot decisions this season. First off, are there any medical techniques or thingies you created specifically for this show?

WELLS This is kind of a ride along with an emergency physician and his team, so we wanted to show the audience exactly what they see. That involves a lot of what you don’t even really notice now, which is a lot of medical nudity in the sense that there’s nothing lascivious about it. There are the specifics of what the events are and all of the various medical procedures that we’re able to show on streaming, which we were never able to do in the past.

GEMMILL One of the things that we did create, which I think Joe Sachs came up with, was the slap bands for identifying victims in the mass casualties episode. We slapped bands on the patients as they came in, whether they’re red, orange, green, or black and white for those who are dead. In terms of the other stuff, we’re constantly trying to figure out how to do the baby birth and how to do the amniocentesis, but we have a great special effects and makeup team that can basically do anything we dream up.

DEADLINE I’m glad you brought up the baby birth. You went the extra mile on that birth in episode 11. We saw, ahem, a lot.

WELLS It makes for better storytelling. You feel like you’re really there. Every man I know went ‘oh my God’ and every woman I know went, ‘see?’ It’s a real thing. Let’s show what it really is. None of the women were putting their hands up in front of their faces during that scene.

DEADLINE I was kind of expecting a big come-to-Jesus moment in the final episode between Langdon and Santos, but we didn’t get that. Is that a battle to come? Will that ever happen?

GEMMILL Yeah, there’s still some water to be explored between those two. That’s something to look forward to.

DEADLINE When Katherine LaNasa’s Dana got hit, was that based on a story that you heard?

GEMMILL Twenty-seven percent of hospital workers have been subjected to violence or abuse. That’s just a reality. One of the nurses I talked to had her cheek broken and lost a tooth. Everyone has their story. It’s very prolific.

WELLS We live in an angry time. We haven’t recovered from Covid. And also as a country, there’s just a lot of aggression and anger and stress, and it’s been meted out to the medical professionals.

DEADLINE In episode 12, Dr. Abbott is giving blood while working on a patient. Is that something that happened in real life?

GEMMILL I don’t know if that’s ever happened in real life in a hospital. I’m sure it’s happened in a combat situation, but it was a situation where they had no choice, and we put them in that situation, and that seemed to be the only solution. It’s a big gamble, but do you save a life and risk infection or do you lose a life? Maybe we pushed the envelope, but given the circumstances, I would’ve done that and I would’ve asked for forgiveness later.

DEADLINE You didn’t get cutesy this season with any outrageous surgeries until we saw the poor girl with a fork in her nose in the finale. Was that your little Easter egg for those who’ve come to expect this from medical dramas, those nutty cases?

GEMMILL That’s a real story. The original victim was just a toddler. But that would’ve been too hard to do in terms of doing prosthetics on a toddler. But yeah, we have docs on set, and they all have their special stories, and a lot of them have photos to go with it. So we’ve all seen the fork in the nose photo.

WELLS But you want to be careful about it. You don’t want to do too many of those little gags because it does start to feel like the heart getting away during the transplant and scooting across the floor. That doesn’t happen. In that episode, with having them go through so much over the last few hours of the show, I certainly felt like we could afford to have somebody smile.

DEADLINE How’s it felt like creating this hit? Have you stood in front of the mirror and said, ‘Hey, I still got it. I’m still a hitmaker!’

GEMMILL That’s exactly what I did! I would say when you make a show, you just hope it doesn’t suck and you don’t get crucified. The reception has been beyond belief for me, and it’s been just so enjoyable. I can’t even begin to express how happy I am.

WELLS You make shows that you just hope will connect with people. What’s been great is that this show connected so quickly. As an example, we made Shameless and it really didn’t become a hit until its fifth season because it just takes a long time with so many shows in the market. The thing that’s been really gratifying is that a lot of people found The Pitt really quickly, and that to me is a miracle in the world we live in now.

[mandareeboo]

Really like your Arcane fanfic idea. Feels like a good mix of bitter and sweet: nothing is perfect for anyone but they’re slowly rebuilding, and even if it’s restoring something similar to the Vander-Grayson status quo, it’s still growth and gives all those involved a chance to grow and perhaps avoid repeating the mistakes of their predecessors and past selves.

Honestly, after how much Vi has suffered (like almost non-stop for 7ish years) and how since she got out of prison she’s been focus on fixing her mistakes or supporting Caitlyn, I really like the concept of Vi just pulling her shit together (re)building something for herself. Restoring the Last Drop to what it was meant to be; letting her both fix the past and make a new home for herself at the same time.

Vi would still have plenty of demons to deal with, but having a stable place and a purpose could help.

Also imagine local rich pretty boy man of progress Councillor Jayce Talis semi-frequenting a seedy Undercity bar, even helping out with repairs (because he wants to feel useful after his best friend left him to go be Jesus) which somehow keep resulting in wacky hijinks cause Vi and Jayce can’t have anything go to plan when working together. One minute they're replacing the lightbulbs and half an hour later they’ve collapsed half a Chem-Baron hideout

Oh Jayce ABSOLUTELY frequents the Last Drop. Vi and him share beers on the roof after a long day of kicking ass and Jayce infodumps about science and Hextech and politics and Vi nods along with half an ear and watches the crowd.

I'm thinking the inciting incident'll be Babette asking for her favor one day. Vi doesn't even question going, and Babette tells her there's a real rough asshole who keeps stiffing her people after beating them up and it's bad for morale, business, etc. Vi is like. Oh fuck yeah. She kicks the shit out of this guy and as he crawls away she realizes that she made a difference. She helped these people and it didn't cost her anything but time-- and Vi has nothing but time anymore.

As a concept scene, have Jinx confronting Vi on her taking over the Last Drop:

.

Vi knows what a gun barrel to the skull feels like by now, but it still makes her tense, fingers clenching into fists. She barely has the presence of mind to set the pitcher down on the table, wrenching her fingers free one at a time.

"Give me one good reason not to do this," Jinx whispers behind her. The gun jams into her harder and she knows, deep inside, that she's actually asking. She wants a reason not to do this.

Unfortunately, "I don't really have one."

"You became an Enforcer. You tried to choke me out!" She sounds near tears. The gun is shaking, rattling against her skin. "You're a monster."

"I am," Vi agrees easily, because yeah. She's made two monsters now, one right after the other, and she understands math enough to understand common denominators. She wonders how much math Jinx knows. Probably a lot. Silco seemed like the kind of bastard to get smart people in his business. "For what it's worth, I got fired."

A shrill wheeze escapes Jinx's throat. "You were always too stupid to keep a job."

"Yeah. I'm a real thickheaded bitch."

"Why do you even want this place, anyway?"

"The same reason Vander wanted it," she admits. "We both know he woulda wanted me to have this place. I'm the only one who can pour the drinks right."

"Vander," Jinx spits, conflicted on the word. "What does he matter, anyway? He's dead."

She can't really help herself. "Is he?"

There's a lengthy pause before the gun disappears from one side of her head to the other; Jinx whipping around in a flash to grab her cheeks and pull her close. Her eyes are blazing. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Nothing, I-"

"No. You don't get to say shit like that and not tell me what the fuck it means."

And that's fair, kind of, so Vi says; "I'm hearing voices, Jinx. His voice. And he's real mean."

Jinx's fingers slowly unclench around her jaw. She twists her face left and right, pulling open an eyelid, then checking inside her mouth. As if she was a studious scientist and she were a new species.

"You're not shitting me," she utters finally, tinged with disbelief. "You're crazy."

A smile slowly creeps across her face, and then Jinx is cackling, shaking hard with laughter as she stumbles away, gun falling to the floor. Vi rubs her jaw and watches her sister's shoulders tremble.

"Holy shit," Jinx says. "You're fucking crazy. Insane. Demented. Fucked up."

Vi works her jaw some more and doesn't answer.

"That is just so us of us!" Jinx points at herself, then at Vi. "We share mental illnesses instead of hugs!"

"Hey," Vi pouts. "I give great hugs."

[cankersoregirl]

get to know me 💗💗

tysm for the tag rin @markpakin!! <333

🦑 do you make your bed? sometimes? not that often tho lol

🦑 what's your favourite number? 3!

🦑 what is your job? idk why I feel like I don’t wanna share this one for privacy reasons so ummm…

🦑 if you could go back to school, would you? I have to go back tomorrow anyway bc my break is ending </3

🦑 can you parallel park? I guess technically yeah but I will literally avoid it at all costs bc I hate doing it LMAO

🦑 a job you had that would surprise people? I don’t think anything would be surprising skdjfj

🦑 do you think aliens are real? YES. and I unironically want to be abducted so bad don’t even get me started… (also see: my pinned post lol)

🦑 can you drive a manual car? probably not bc I’ve never tried

🦑 what's your guilty pleasure? I’m sure I have one but rn I can’t think of any which maybe is a good thing…??

🦑 tattoos? currently two, one of my dog’s paw print on my ankle & one of two aliens above my elbow that chuu from loona drew for me when I met her at a fansign hehe (+ I have another one planned in less than a month that I’ll likely share here later lol) (& I have other ones I wanna get sometime in the future…)

🦑 favorite color? red! or more specifically burgundy

🦑 favorite type of music? alternative is so vague but I guess technically that… whatever you call paramore’s music. and also fun stuff like kpop !

🦑 do you like puzzles? YESSSSS they’re addictive I love anything from 2000 piece puzzles to brain teasers lol

🦑 any phobias? spiders, jellyfish, & leeches

🦑 favorite childhood sport? swimming was & still is a lot of fun hehe

🦑 do you talk to yourself? ya

🦑 what movies do you adore? SECRETS IN THE HOT SPRING MY FAVORITE MOVIE EVER, utsukushii kare eternal, the way he looks, and dear ex come to mind

🦑 coffee or tea? neither but I guess I like tea slightly more…?

🦑 first thing you wanted to be growing up? I have a memory of me saying I wanted to be a scientist when I was like 5 but I don’t think I rlly actually did sndkdjdj

tagging: @idletype @loserlesbianongsa @iliketodecompose @celestial-sapphicss @brightokyolights @serene-skies but no pressure :P

[kaceriminn]

shits and giggles fanfic

been reading catcher and the rye for english class, and now I'm writing fanfic for it. lmk if yall fw this

December 18, 1952

New York City

8:47 PM

“Did you grow a foot or am I growing blind?” 

Her sickeningly smooth voice broke him from whatever argument he’d been in. Currently it was an argument with the bartender, whom he was trying to get to serve him a scotch, despite being clearly underaged.

“Vodka tonic, and the scotch.” 

She asked, slipping the bartender a five and a pretty smile before taking a seat beside the usually grumpy teenager. He didn’t look to be in the best of spirits, granted she wasn’t sure if he ever was these days.

“He would’ve given me the goddam drink eventually, ‘didn’t have to put on a whole show.” 

He grumbled, having calmed down a tad since she’d sat beside him. Expensive fur coat resting on the back of her chair, along with a bag that cost more than this whole dingy joint.

“Just ‘cause you have gray hair an’ smoke a pack a day doesn’t mean you look legal.” 

She commented, a brow raised as she accepted her drink from the bartender, taking a brief sip before placing it down on the bar with a hum.

“Could I bum a cigarette? Or have you quit for the millionth time?” 

She asked, pulling a small silver lighter from her coat pocket. The one he’d gotten her last Christmas, oddly enough that felt a thousand years away right now.

“I never said I would quit. I said I’d think of quitting.” 

He corrected, passing her one from his pack regardless. His eyes lingered as she flicked the lighter to life, lighting the cigarette like it was second nature. She’d been a smoker as long as he could remember, and he’d known her since she was thirteen, so that said a lot.

“Well you did quit Pencey, or so I’ve heard.” 

She quipped, brow raised as she started with the one topic he was the most uncomfortable with. She had a habit of doing that, bringing up what you hated most. Maybe for her own enjoyment, or maybe she lacked a social sense, he wasn’t sure.

“That place was stupid anyways, ‘full of phonies.” 

He muttered, grimacing as he took a long sip of his scotch, the heavy liquor burning as it slid down his throat. Maybe hard liquor wasn’t the best thing to start the night with. 

“You won’t graduate at this rate, y’know.”

She commented, a hint of both judgement and concern in her voice. Even if it was impossible to tell sometimes, she did care for him. He was her friend, she didn’t want him to just flunk out of school. She wasn’t that heartless.

“And what makes you think I want that? So I can have a buncha’ phonies tell me things I’ll never need all for a goddam piece of paper?”

“Yeah well that goddam piece of paper will get you into college, and a job.”

“Oh great, so I can work on Wall Street with all those phony assholes like your old man?”

“I’m just trying to be realistic here Holden, Christ.”

She let out a heavy sigh, if he was one thing? It was stubborn as all hell. Sometimes it felt like arguing with a brick wall. You’d have thought she was asking him to saw his own leg off, not graduate high school.

After an all too long period of silence, she spoke again, knowing that if she wasn’t the one to do it they’d be sitting in silence until they were both drunk off their asses.

“I just think you should at least graduate, ‘doesn’t even have to be at some fancy prep school, just graduate from a school.”

He didn’t reply at first, too busy rotating between his own cigarette and scotch, mulling over her words.  Sure he wanted to graduate, but graduating was scary. It meant he was in the real world, the shitty real world of New York City.

“Fine, fine, I’ll think about it. Now willya’ drop it? ‘Wouldn’t have invited y’out if all y’were gonna do is pester me.”

She let out another sigh, nodding before taking a much longer, much needed sip. All the liquor in the world wouldn’t get her through this damn conversation. 

“Got it, no more school talk.”

What else did they even have to talk about? Half the reason he’d invited her out tonight was to see if he could con her into letting him stay at her parents' place. Seeing as he had yet to tell his parents he’d been kicked from Pencey, and staying at some shitty hotel sounded like hell. He knew with the goddamn castle of a condo her parents owned, she could spare him a room. He just didn’t want to look like some loser bringing it up all of a sudden. Not in front of her, not a chance in hell.

“How’s… everything else?”

He asked, a bit awkwardly, sure, but nothing had been as awkward as the silence they’d been sitting in prior.

“Good. Everything's… good.”

She nodded, taking a drag from her cigarette as she ran her index finger over the rim of her glass, which was almost empty by now. She waved the bartender over for another, she sure as hell needed it right now.

“You still paintin’ like y’used to?”

She nodded at that, mid-sip when he’d asked. It was one of the most notable things he could remember about her, among others. She had quite the artistic gift, bedroom decorated in various canvases of all sizes. It was more interpretive art, sure, and none of it made any sense to him, but they were pleasing to look at. Or maybe she was just pleasing to look at, to him she was just as intricate as the art she crafted.

“Here and there, whenever I have the time for it. I’ve been working on a new piece, I’ll have to show you sometime.”

“I’m free tonight… If you’re parents don’t mind, ‘rather not piss off your old man again.”

Bingo, for once he’d found the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted. Once he was at her house, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stay the night. He’d say he’d had too much to drink and didn’t want his parents to see him wasted like that, and then he’d have a warm bed for the night. Gods he could be a manipulative motherfucker, but right now he was glad he was.

“Uh… sure, why not. Grab us a cab and I’ll settle the bill, yeah?”

“Deal.”

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Jake's Destiny: Crossing the Line

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader, stripper!reader

Summary: Jake was your best client until you told him he couldn't ask for you anymore. However, that doesn't stop him from coming back for you. Will you continue to brush him off or will you find the courage to admit the real reason you need to cut ties?

Word Count: 2208

TW: Love Confession, Fluff, Kissing, Light Grinding, Jake picks Reader up

Note: Thank you to @onebigfangirlworld for sending the made-up title request that sparked this idea (I didn't stick with the title but it is a line in the fic!). And thank you to @lorecraft for beta reading for me! 🥰 You are the best!

Series Masterlist (but can be read as a one-shot)

You adjusted your bustier and your makeup one last time and slipped out of the dressing room. But as you began to head towards the bar, Charity grabbed your arm. "Oh, you have someone waiting for you in room number three."

You groaned. "Already? I've literally been on the floor for less than a minute."

She shrugged. "I don't know. Karma told me to tell you.”

You thanked Charity and headed to the private rooms in the back. While you much preferred working the floor or behind the bar, if you were going to get requested to one of the back rooms, it was better that it happened at the start of your shift before you got aggravated by the night's clientele. Though the patrons of The Hard Deck Gentleman’s Club were all still a class above those you had dealt with at your last job, you still got the occasional jackass who thought because he slapped down a stack of cash, you had to give him whatever he wanted. And it was hard enough plastering on a fake smile when you were in a decent mood but it was agony when the night had already drained you.

However, you began to reconsider your previous view of the situation when you opened the door and saw who was waiting for you. 

Dropping all pretense of coyness or niceties, you rolled your eyes as you let the door slam behind you. "What the hell are you doing here? Or better question, what the hell am I doing here? Karma was supposed to get you, not me."

"Yeah, well, I might have paid Karma a little extra to switch places with you for the night." 

As usual, Jake Seresin gave you a cocky grin as he settled back onto the couch with his whiskey in hand and a toothpick jutting from between his lips. He looked pristine as always in his perfectly tailored suit which probably cost more than your car and his hair was styled in that way where it looked slightly messy but you could tell took hours to perfect. He had opened the top of his crisp white shirt so you could see a glint of the gold chain he always wore and the first glimpses of chest hair poking out. He could have just walked off the set of a high-end photoshoot, and knowing Jake, he might have. 

Though he was the only other person in the room, he took up half the space with the way he was sitting: his arms draped all the way across the back of the couch while he sat with his legs spread open wide. He patted his left knee, indicating he wanted you to sit, but you remained where you were with your arms crossed over your chest.

You thought you had made it very clear last time he was here that he couldn’t ask for you anymore. There were plenty of other girls on shift who could give him whatever he needed. In fact, there wasn’t another girl here who wouldn’t be jumping at the chance to do so. 

Jake was a unicorn in a place like this. He had more money than God, yet treated all the girls with respect and dignity. Sure, he was a little arrogant and egotistical, but he was also considerate, and a surprisingly good listener. Plus, it didn’t hurt he was supermodel gorgeous. 

The first night he came in, he said he didn’t have a preference when it came to which girl joined him in the private room. You were the next one on the schedule so you had taken care of him. Though you had expected him to want as much of you as you would allow, that night he only wanted to talk while you straddled his thigh and lazily ground against it. You left an hour later with the biggest tip you had ever seen and Jake’s request to management that you would be his regular dancer from now on. Since then, he had come in a minimum of once a week and while your interactions did become more physical over time, he never ever tried to cross a line or go further than you allowed.

Which was why everyone else thought you were insane when you told them you would no longer be taking care of him when he came in. However, no one argued with your decision since it meant he was up for grabs. Knowing Jake’s tastes, you figured Karma would be the best one to take your place and had told him as such. Yet here he was waiting for you once again. 

"Jake, I told you, I’m done. I have other clients and other responsibilities here. I'm not your personal plaything who can drop everything just because you want me to."

He flicked his toothpick to the floor and calmly took a sip from his glass. "Well, why not? I pay you more for an hour of your time than you could make an entire night with those other 'clients'. And you know you enjoy it just as much as I do, so what’s the big deal?"

Stamping your foot, you cried, "The big deal is that I don't belong to you! Or to anyone! And if I say no, I mean it! So, I can either send Karma back in here or you can leave.”

You turned to go but Jake jumped to his feet, leaped over the glass table in front of the couch, and slammed his hand against the door blocking your exit. You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes flickered up to his face. “Let me go, Jake.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t get to say that and then just walk away. Fine, I can be blunt and upfront about what I want, but I would never try to force anyone into anything they didn’t want. And that includes bribing or coercing them with money. You know me. You know I’m not like that. I just…. I had to come back. I just want to understand what I did. Why seemingly overnight you started hating me. I don’t get it.”

The desperation in his voice makes your resolve crumble. You had never seen Jake beg like this. He was always so confident and self-assured when he came to see you that you never imagined anything being able to rattle him. But apparently, you could.

Nodding softly, you said, “You’re right. I know you’d never do that. I’m sorry if that’s what it sounded like I meant. This isn’t about you or anything you did. I just can’t keep seeing you, Jake. I’m sorry.”

You tried to open the door again, but he kept his hand firmly in place. “Why? Des, talk to me! What is really going on?”

You knew if you wanted to, you could get him to let you leave. Jake wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t force anyone into anything they didn’t want, but he also knew you well enough at this point to tell the difference between a request and a demand. And so far, your mentions of leaving have just been a request. 

Maybe that was because deep down you did want him to know the truth. Maybe you wanted to see how he would react to it. Or maybe you just couldn’t bring yourself to cut Jake Seresin out of your life as you planned. 

Whatever the reason, you took a deep breath. Dropping your hand from the door handle, you wrapped your arms around yourself and turned your back to Jake as you walked towards the corner of the room. “To do this job, I have to set boundaries. And it’s gotten to the point where we’ve crossed my most important one. So I have to end this. I’m sorry.”

You heard Jake take a few steps closer to you, but he made no move to crowd or touch you in any way. “I can respect that, but what boundary did we cross? Maybe I can fix it, go back to before we crossed that line, and it can just be how it was before.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that simple, Jake. I can’t…. I can’t go back. You don’t know how badly I wish I could but I–” you squeezed your eyes closed tightly as you gathered the strength to say the next words “–I have to cut contact with a client if I develop feelings for them.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Your words hung in the air, filling the room with a weighty tension as you waited for Jake to react. For him to laugh at you. For him to slip out of the room. For him to embarrassingly try to reassure you it was okay but he could never have feelings for someone like you. You waited with bated breath for that hammer to drop and shatter your heart into pieces. 

But it never came. Instead, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle you from behind as Jake’s head rested against yours, his nose nuzzling against the place just above your ear. 

Squeezing you tightly against his broad chest, he purred, “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

You turned in his arms so you were staring up at his face just inches from yours, not daring to believe the unspoken meaning behind his words. “Wh-what?”

“Des, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you first walked through that door and smiled at me.” He brushed his hand across your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing circles over your cheekbone. “Why do you think I spend thousands of dollars a week just to see you? You told me the first night I came in here that you didn’t date clients. That our time in this room was all we would ever have. So, I figured if this was the only way I could be with you, I would take it.”

“Jake, I–”

“No. I know what you’re gonna say and I don’t want you to.” He pressed his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing up against each other as he closed his eyes. “Let me hold onto this feeling for just a little bit longer. Let me pretend this could last.”

You leaned into him as you whispered, “I don’t understand. You could have any girl that you want.”

“Good. Because I want you.”

“You don’t even know my real name.”

His eyes opened and you were left staring into two sparkling green pools that made you weak in the knees. “I’m okay with that. Besides, I think Destiny is pretty damn perfect as it is.”

You laughed, the sound wet and bordering on a sob. This couldn’t be happening. Jake couldn’t feel the same way about you that you did about him. Not this millionaire Adonis who made you feel more respected than any man ever had– in or out of the club. This was the sort of fantasy you only saw in fairytales or romcoms, not real life. The rich, handsome bachelor didn’t fall for the stripper. That’s not how the world worked. 

And yet….

As his hand intertwined with yours and he gave it a tight squeeze, you made up your mind. Taking a deep breath, you muttered, “In for a penny….” and broke your second most important boundary— you pressed your lips against his.

Instantly, he surged forward as if you had broken down some invisible barrier that had been holding him back. His free hand cupped the back of your neck so he could tilt your head for a better angle, all the while his other hand remained firmly linked with yours. You melted into him, parting your lips to allow his tongue to slip between your lips. He tasted like mint and whiskey and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Finally releasing your hand, Jake slid his arm under your ass and lifted you up, your legs immediately encircling his waist. Without breaking your kiss, he carried you over to the couch– almost tripping on the coffee table –and sat down. You pulled yourself closer to him, your legs still wrapped tightly around him. Your core was pressed against him and as you rolled your hips, you felt him twitch in his pants. Smiling against his lips, you repeated the action several times and felt him hardening against you.

With a groan, Jake finally pulled his lips from yours. He was panting softly as he gazed at you with lust-filled eyes, but he said, “We don’t have to do this. Or anything. Don’t get me wrong, you have no idea how much I want to, but I need you to know this isn’t why I like you. Like you said, any girl in here could give me this. But only you can give me the amazing woman I’ve fallen for.”

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and you whispered, “Oh, shut up” before recapturing his lips.

While you kissed, your hands fumbled blindly with his belt but you eventually managed to get it open. However, as you started to slip your hands into the waistband of his slacks, he pulled back again and gently grabbed your wrists. “I thought you said in here we weren’t allowed to—”

“Screw it. I’m taking my break.” 

You giggled softly as his eyes grew wide and you slipped your hands from his grasp as you eased yourself back onto the floor. Kneeling in front of the couch, you spread his knees farther and slid in between them. As you reached for his zipper with one hand, your other quickly unhooked your bustier and threw it over the camera in the corner of the room. You knew you would probably get yelled at for that later, but right now you didn’t care. What you were about to do to Jake was not business but pleasure. And damn, was it going to be pleasurable. 

Please let me know if there is anything specific you would like to see with these two or if you would like to be added to the series tag list! 💕

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233