#budget whiskey bottles

[bourbontrend]

Unlock the secrets of savoring premium flavors without emptying your wallet! 🥃 Dive into our guide, "Budget Whiskey Bottles: A Guide to Savoring Affordably," and discover how to enjoy high-quality whiskey on a budget. From the smoky peat of single malt Scotch to the sweet vibrancy of bourbon cocktails, find your perfect sip without breaking the bank. Cheers to exploring budget whiskey bottles without compromising on taste! 🎉 #BudgetWhiskeyBottles #BourbonTrend

[tokkiwrites]

ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ & ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ᴄᴀᴋᴇ

summary: your dad's birthday is coming up, and you want to buy something special, but you're short a couple hundred dollars. not wanting to change your idea for a gift you ask his best friend, Joel Miller, to help you out until you get more money. He agrees but surcharges. tags: pwp, dbf!joel, f!reader, afab reader, age gap (legal, the reader is 22, joel is in his mid forties), kind of slut shaming i dunno, fingering f receiving, head m receiving, dirty talk galore, pet names galore, p in v unprotected. (lmk if i missed anything)

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ Woah i dunno what this was, kind of lame but i desperately need dbf joel to give it to me. 4.03k words but its mostly exposition. not proofread!!!

Your dad's birthday was just around the corner, and this year, you wanted to get him something that truly mattered. The usual gifts—grilling tools, books, maybe a bottle of whiskey—didn’t feel right. You’d found something more special, something that spoke to him. It was a vintage guitar, similar to the one he had when he was younger, the one he used to play for you on lazy sunday afternoons. You knew it would bring back memories for him, and maybe, just maybe, he’d start playing again.

But there was one big problem—you couldn’t afford it. You were short. A couple hundred dollars short, and no matter how you shifted your budget, it just wouldn’t work. You’d gone over your options more times than you could count, and each time, you felt that pang of disappointment grow stronger. You weren’t someone who liked asking for help. You always tried to handle things on your own, but this time, there was no way around it.

That’s when Joel came to mind. Maybe he could help.

Joel Miller had been your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. He was the one who was always around, helping out when your dad needed a hand with anything or just dropping by for a beer and a quiet conversation. Joel had a way about him—steady, unshakable. Older, but not in a way that dulled him. His rough edges made him seem more dependable, like someone who’d been through enough to know what really mattered.

Over the years, you’d noticed things about him. Little things. The way his voice, low and gravelly, would call out your name with a slow drawl that sent a small shiver down your spine and straight to your cunt. The way his hands, calloused from years of hard work, looked when they were fixing something or just resting casually on the steering wheel of his truck. Somewhere along the line, what started as casual observations turned into a quiet crush. It was ridiculous, really. He was your dad’s best friend, and you were way too young for him. But that didn’t stop the way your heart skipped whenever you saw him or how your breath caught when he gave you one of those long, unreadable looks.

You’d always had this childish, gnawing thing for Joel, even though you knew it was wrong. He was someone who’d practically watched you grow up. But that didn’t stop your mind from wandering in all the wrong places. Over the years, you’d caught yourself daydreaming about him, what he'd do to you, imagining what it would be like if things were different—if you were his.

It wasn’t just his looks, though those didn’t hurt. Joel had that rugged charm about him—broad shoulders, rough hands, and a way of carrying himself that made you feel safe and small in a way that made your mind spiral. you wanted to be at his mercy. You couldn’t help but notice the lines that deepened around his eyes when he smiled, the slow, steady way he spoke, that gentle drawl making every word sound like it was meant just for you. And those moments when his gaze lingered a second too long—when his eyes would flicker over you in a way that made your pulse quicken—you’d catch yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he saw you differently too.

But it was just fantasy. Joel was older, your dad’s best friend, and he’d never cross that line. You told yourself that over and over, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in. Late at night, when you were alone, you’d let yourself imagine— touching yourself while wondering. What if you weren’t who you were, and he wasn’t who he was? What if, in another life, he could be more than just your dad’s friend? You’d picture his hands on you, the way his voice might sound close to your ear, the roughness of his touch, the warmth of his breath on your skin.

But every time, reality pulled you back. Joel would never see you that way. It was impossible. You were just the kid he’d known for years, nothing more. Still, the fantasy lingered, a secret you kept tucked away, knowing it could never become anything real.

right?

You hadn’t planned on asking him for help. It wasn’t something you were comfortable with, especially not from Joel. But as the days ticked by and you couldn’t figure out how to make the money work, the idea crept into your mind more and more. He was reliable, and if anyone would help you out without making you feel bad about it, it would be Joel. You sat with your phone in your lap for what felt like forever, staring at his name on the screen. It took a few deep breaths before you finally hit call. The phone barely rang twice before you heard his familiar voice on the other end.

"Hey, darlin'," he spoke, the warmth of his voice instantly grounding you. "Somethin' wrong?" His concern was real. Joel wasn’t the type to waste words, and for a second, you thought about backing out. But then you thought about the gift, about your dad’s face when he saw it, and the words spilled out.

"Hey, Joel. I’m okay, just... I need a favor," you admitted, biting your lip, feeling the awkwardness rise in your chest. There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, the sound rumbling through the phone. "You? Ask for a favor? Must be somethin’ important."

You smiled despite yourself, already feeling some of the tension ease. “It’s about dad’s birthday. I found this perfect gift, but I’m short a couple hundred dollars, and... I hate asking, but I don’t know what else to do.” Joel was quiet for a moment, and you held your breath. Then, his voice came through, steady as always. "How much you need?" You blinked, surprised at how quick he was to offer. "Uh, about two hundred. I swear I’ll pay you back as soon as I—"

"Don’t worry ‘bout that," Joel cut you off, his tone so casual it almost threw you. "Come by later, we’ll figure it out."

And that was it. He hung up before you had a chance to protest, leaving you sitting there, a mixture of relief and something else bubbling inside you. Later came quicker than you expected, and before long, you found yourself driving out to his place. The sun was low in the sky, casting the road in golden light as you drove the familiar route. Joel lived just outside town, far enough out that it always felt like stepping into a different world when you visited him.

When you pulled into his driveway, his old truck was parked out front, dust-covered and reliable, much like the man himself. The air was warm, the sun casting long shadows across his yard, and for a moment, you sat in your car, your heart thudding in your chest. You didn’t know why you were so nervous—this was just Joel, after all—but something about this felt different. It wasn’t just about asking for money. Before you could second-guess yourself, you got out of the car and walked up to his front door. Your shoes crunched against the gravel, and the soft thud of your knock on the door sounded too loud in this quiet evening.

Joel opened the door almost immediately, like he’d been waiting for you all this time. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes fixed on you. For a second, you were caught in his gaze, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted, his voice soft but thick with that familiar gruff.

"Hi, Joel," you replied, stepping inside, trying to hide your apparent blush. The smell of wood and something faintly musky filled the air, and the room felt like it always did—warm, safe. You’d been here countless times, but today, something felt different. Maybe it was just you. You sat down on the couch, trying to calm your nerves, while Joel took his usual spot across from you, leaning back in his chair with that easy posture, his eyes still lingering on you. There was something about the way he looked at you tonight, something that made your skin prickle with awareness.

“So,” he started, his voice low, “you need a little help with this gift, huh?” You nodded, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. “Yeah. It’s more expensive than I thought. I didn’t want to ask, but…” Joel shook his head, cutting you off. “You ain’t gotta explain. I told you I’d help, didn’t I?” Relief washed over you, but then, as you glanced back at him, you caught the way his eyes hadn’t left yours. There was something different in them now—something that made your heart race a little faster. "But," Joel continued, his tone dropping just a notch, slower now, like he was considering each word carefully, "you know me. I don’t do favors for nothin’."

Your breath hitched. There was an intensity in his voice, in the way he was watching you, that sent a rush of heat through your body. You felt your folds dripping through your white cotton panties. He wasn’t just talking about the money, and you knew it. The room seemed smaller, the air between you thick with something, your pulse plummeting under his steady gaze.

You swallowed, suddenly unsure of how to respond. You’d known Joel your whole life, but this—this was different. The way he was looking at you now wasn’t like anything you’d felt from him before, hungry, and it made you both nervous and excited, a dangerous mix you didn’t know how to handle. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. "So," he drawled, his voice like gravel, "what’re you gonna give me in return?"

"A-Anything.." You spoke up, the words cascading out before you could even process them. "That so?" You see him smile, looking down at his hands. "You're a big girl... I think you know what i want." Your heart almost stops. Joel stands up, slowly inching himself closer. "Joel, Iㅡ" you try to protest, not quite sure what to make of what he just said. "You think i don't know? think i dont notice how you look at me, always wearin' those skimpy clothes when 'm around...tryna' look innocent." the rhythm of your heart races, realizing what is really happening. you were to afraid to look up, afraid of what he'll say next, so you stuck to staring at the ground. "You think i couldn't hear ya touchin' yourself, moanin' my name, when I stayed over? God, woke up with the biggest morning wood ever that dayㅡ felt like a fuckin' teenager." he chuckles to himself, rough fingertips trailing your shoulder, finally reaching your chin. he grabs a hold of it, turning your head harshly so you could look at him. your blushed skin burned, eyes wide with expectation.

"Joel, 'm sorry, pleaseㅡ"

"Oh, so now you beggin'? could've come to me so long ago 'n ask me nicely to give it to you, sweet girl. Guess this is where you repay me for helpin' out with your dad's gift and for all those boners you made me power through." is this really happening? your eyes dart around the room, but he's quick to grab tightly on your cheeks, making your gazes meet. "You look at me when I'm talkin' to you, angel." His eyes were dark, intense, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher, but it made your stomach twist with a mixture of fear and something else you were ashamed to nameㅡ you could try to deny it but the way your cunt pulsed when he talked to you that way was your biggest enemy. "Joel, please—" you started again, your voice shaky, but he cut you off with a low, humorless chuckle, his thumb brushing along your jaw, keeping you in place.

"Don't 'please' me, darlin'," he murmured, his voice dipping even lower, eyes now on your obvious cleavage. "You've been teasin’ me for years now, comin' ‘round lookin’ all sweet and innocent, actin' like you didn’t know what you were doin’. Always starin' at me with those big eyes, waitin' for me to make a wrong move." he was right and you hated to admit it. he held you firm, his grip unrelenting. " I didn't mean—"

"Oh, I think you meant every bit of it," he said, his lips curling into a small smile, head lowering. "But now look where that’s got you. You came to me for help, and I agreed to help, didn’t I? Now it’s time to give somethin' back." your pulse thudded loudly in your ears, drowning out everything but him, his voice, the feeling of him so close. You’d never thought it would be like this, not with Joel. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, caught between the fantasy you'd let grow over the years and the reality of what was happening now.

"You're gonna be good for me, aren't you? Gonna be a good little girl 'n let me have at you?" he asked, his voice a low rasp, like gravel scraping across your skin, the words sinking deep into your bones. "Yㅡyes." you say, voice was quiet, buried under the arousal, the want for more and his honey words. "Atta girl." Joel leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you wanted to, but you didn't. You couldn't. Instead, you tilted your head up, closing the distance between you, your lips finally meeting his in a kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, it was like everything clicked into place. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty anymore. His kiss was slow but sure, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You sighed into him, hands instinctively resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the roughness that made him like a drug to you.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, angel cake? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request. "fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh? what if he saw what a cock desperate slut you are?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

" 'Course you don't. Always knew you were a little whore. well, right now you'll be my little whore, right?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lulled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue. "Swallow it. Let me seeㅡ" its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge. "You know your place, yeah, baby?" you hum eagerly, not sure what his next request will be but ready to fulfill it and give him your all. "tell me. you really wanna do this." Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "need you, Joel, please.."

"fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you slowly, savoring and drinking you up with his eyes. your naked body was shivering, you didn't know if it was from the temperature or because of the anticipation playing with your heartstringsㅡ you just knew you needed to give everything you had to Joel. make him proud. "i got you, babygirl." you feel yourself get picked up and placed onto the old leather couch in the middle of the living room, the cold surface making you jump a little. joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh, as you try to bite back your moans. "Let me hear you, baby, don't hold back. you wanna make me proud, don't ya?" Oh, you do.

"gonna let me ruin you, angel girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby. you that stupid already? I ain't even fucked you yet 'n you can't even say one word. tsk." he mocks you, twirling with your hardened nipples. "i'mㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry. he laughs, fingers finally reaching your dripping folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm? this pussy cryin' for an old man like me?" he teases "yes, only f-for you...please."

"that's right." Joel kisses the side of your neck, nibbling at the skin whilst he finally pushes inside of you one of his rugged fingers, making your back jolt and arch. you cover your mouth with your palms, shocked by the own sound you just made. "Keep moanin' for me, little girl. let me hear how good I make you feel.." his words flood over you, as the knot in your tummy tightly turns, Joel's cologne swirling in your nostrils and getting you drunk off of it and this feeling. "so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on when you're fucked out on an old man's fingers?"

"yesㅡ god, yes, please, joel, please, 'm so close." but then it all stops. you whine at the sudden lack of feeling, but you open your eyes and see Joel stand up.

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat, but you watched the man discard himself of his clothes andㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a pinkish, angry tip. he knew he was huge. That's what made it so exciting for him. watching you gawk at his cock, made him feel more powerful over you.

"c'mon, angel, it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go...good little girl." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first couple of minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ it was worth it. "jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come already." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

you look up at him, mascara smudged, lips swollen and blushed cheeks stained with tears and spit. "you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous angel girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, please fuck m-me, Joel." joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand, he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your folds, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby." and you hum a little 'only for you.' without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more. "I know, baby, I know. You're a good girl, you can take it." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proudㅡ you were paying him back, though.

"so pretty, angel, so, so pretty and tight 'f me, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you. after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya squeezin' me."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly, eyes rolling to the back of your head. it doesn't take him long reach his orgasm, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach and breasts with white, silky strands.

this all really happened.

After you both come down from your high, you cup his face in your warm palms, your stare tied to his. Joel's eyes were soft, warm, and filled with something you'd never seen beforeㅡ something that made your heart swell even more and realize what just went down between you two. "Should've done that a long time ago," he said with a soft, crooked smile, his thumb brushing against your cheek, still a little out of breath. You laughed lightly, still caught in the moment. "Yeah, you should've." His smile grew, and he leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You know this changes things, right?"

"I know," you whispered, feeling the truth of it all settle into your bones. "I want it to."

[glitteringsunshine]

Pairing : Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader Wife

 

You sit in Jethro’s  basement taking swigs of his whiskey bottle. You had a scowl on your face. You are fuming at Jethro; your husband. The bratty side of you pondered on vandalizing  the boat he was working on. But did not  do so because he is naming it after you.  The kids were away on a field trip. Your husband Jethro is still at work and you curled up on his workbench contemplating the day's events. It’s amusing how you are mad at NCIS SSA Leroy Jethro Gibbs but still seek out his comfort as your husband. You are wearing his hoodie,  basking in his basement,  well this is your basement too. You feel yourself all choked up.  You and Jethro had a huge fight regarding budget allocation to state and Defence. You two were managing the division of resources for your respective  departments. In the end Jethro got his way. The resources were allocated to Defence , primarily to the navy.

 

You hear Jethro coming down to the basement. You heard his car pull up. “ Bastard” you say looking at him.  

“ Stop testing me” he said with pure command. But you are unfazed.

“ Let’s see how much you can take before I get under your skin. “ You openly challenge getting up and moving closer to him.

“ Careful Y/N”

“ Or. What?” you roll your eyes.

“You can’t  undermine me like this , without  any consequences.  I have a job to do.”

“ Me too. “ You say bitterly. 

“ Why do you make doing  my Job so difficult  Y/N?” he says his lips inches away from yours.

“ Why do you make it so difficult  for me Jethro?” you ask, the sexual tension palpable  in the air.

He grabbed wrists pushing you against the workbench , before moving you forward towards him by grabbing your waist. You felt his lips on yours.  It was demanding, punishing. Both of you fought for dominance, with tongues and teeth.  Finally it seemed like ages when you two broke the kiss for air. He flipped you on your stomach on the workbench. He bunched up your  denim skirt spreading your legs with his knees. You gasped at the sheer sexual pull of it. “ Shh quiet “ he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“ Yes” you whisper.

“ So you do know how to listen” he chuckled.

He moved your panties to a side feeling the dampness.

“ So wet “ he chuckled.  

“ You want this right?” he ensured as you nodded. Like a true gentleman  he still asks even after so many years of marriage.

He fingered your clit pumping his fingers inside, hitting the right spots.

As you get on the edge, he withdrew his finger, tasting your slick wetness on his fingers. You whine. He chuckled.

“ Beg “ he whispers.

You glare  at him.

He brushed your lips with his fingers before shoving it inside your mouth and you suck, an act of submission.

He withdrew his fingers before pumping it in your pussy.

“ Jethro please” you whine.

“ Please what kid?” he asks

“ I, I …” you mumble unable to form a coherent thought in your mind as you feel the pleasure.

“ Tell me baby girl? What do you want ? Do you want to cum?”

“ Yes , please. Please let me cum. Fuck Jethro oh fuck I want you so bad “ you ramble.

“ Good girl”  he whispers in your ears before nuzzling at your neck as he pumped his fingers harder while rubbing your clit. “ Now cum for me kid.” He commands.

You unfurl at his command your pussy walls spamming against his fingers as your juices flow out.  

He tastes you again on his fingers before rubbing your cheeks and softly kissing  your forehead.

He undid his belt and you heard him unzipping his pants. He lines his cock with your pussy.

“ You ready?” he asks ensuring you are all right.

“ Yes. “ You whisper.

“ Now take it like a good girl” he whispers as he fucks you hard from behind. Soon you feel the pleasure build and Jethro realises that  you are close.

Go ahead he says and you cum on his cock. He holds you steady as you come out of your high. He then flips you and cages you under him. As he thrusts inside you  hold him tightly, closing your eyes.

“ Look at me “ he says as his thrusts became harder. He held you close tight against him as your eyes met. You see his love for you. Your eyes reflects the same. You wrap your legs around him as he squeezes your hands.  You two cum together.  He kisses you gently moving the hair away from your forehead.  He takes your hand and gently  kisses it.

“ You Okay” he asks softly.

“ Yes” you nod.

“How about a bath ?” he asks. He knows how aftercare is important.  You nod . He carries you to the bathroom. He joins you rubbing your shoulders and nuzzle at your neck. You feel lovely.

“ What ?” he asks as something strikes you suddenly.

“ I know how to get my budget without curtailing yours” you say. “ But it can wait till morning”.

“ Good. I love you wifey” he whispers.

“ I love you too Jethro.”

[la-bruja]

when you dont know if u wanna kiss him or fight him

GHOSTBAR shines brightly in the late hours of the light, its luminous green neon colors discerningly familiar for unknown reasons. The lights sit heavy on the smog of Gotham, casting a soft green glow upon the people standing in line outside the bar. As the people chatter and move the green swirls in the air around them.

Jason shook off the chill of the night and walked ahead of the line. Ignoring the shouts behind him, he tossed a smug smile to the bouncer and flipped off the line of patrons as he entered the bar. With Bruce's platinum credit card, he's surely able to afford any of the high priced alcohol at this bougie ass high end bar. Of course, none of the colorful drinks will be for him. He's only here for information.

Jason sidles up the bar, squeezing his broad self in-between two others and flags down the bartender. He flashes the silver card at the man, ”Whiskey on the Rocks. And make it quick, will you?“ The bartender rolls his green eyes, and snatches the card out of Jason's hand. ”Starting a tab?“

Jason smiles, all teeth. ”Sure thing, sweetheart. And bring something sweet and fruity for these lovely ladies next to me.“

The bartender huffs and moves away, to make the over-priced drinks and possibly over-charge Jason even more on the tab for his attitude.

His working girls giggles at him, and one of them gives him a kiss for his attitude before dropping back onto the bar-stool next to him. He feels the lipstick linger and has to make an active choice to not wipe it away.

Jason feels one of the others drape herself over his shoulders, her acrylic nails raking up his bare arms, leaving tiny raised red lines. Her warm breath ghosts over his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

”Rumor says The Penguin tried to bluster his way in and the owner kicked him straight out. Threatened to take a bat to his knees, even.“

Jason gives a surprised chuckle that gets lost in the harsh EDM music that thumps around them. ”A man after my own heart.”

The bartender returns, with enough drinks for all the ladies around him, and with a basket of fries. The fries are covered in cheesy nacho sauce and ground meat. There's also a disconcertingly vibrant green sauce swirled on top, its sheen disturbing under the artificial lights of the club. The bartender slides Jason a take-away tin of ranch and a bottle of ketchup to go with the fries.

The lights finally flicker to shine utop the bartender and Jason can see that his name tag reads DANNY and that he is wearing a he/him pin on his vest. The black text is stark against the white ghost shape pin. Jason's flicks his eyes up, and they catch on the man's matching skunk stripe. The white is bright, almost glowing against Danny's dark almost raven black hair. Suddenly his vibrant green eyes feels like a threat and Jason has to swallow down the urge to take a swing.

Danny grins at him, canines peeking out from under black lips, his lipstick slightly smudged. His eyeliner is also smudged in the exact manner that Danny's eyes crinkle and Jason feels the urge to fight simply whoosh out of him. Unsettling, but necessary.

”No worries big guy, seems like you need it.“ Danny blows him a kiss and moves onto other patrons.

Jezzabelle laughs and gives Jason a matching kiss on his other cheek. Her hand lingers on his shoulder and Jason lets himself be pulled further into her personal space. Her nose buries into his hair and Jason gets a strong whiff of her perfume. It smells like cheap vanilla, with cinnamon? Out of season for this time of the year. He'll have to up the budget for them.

”Not everyone gets that specialty but it seems that only metas or the meta-adjacent gets it.“ She murmurs.

Jezzabelle pulls away only to lean back in and press a kiss to his hairline. Jason rolls his eyes and valiantly does not wipe it away. Jezzabelle laughs, her hand coming up to hide her smile while the other one swipes at his fries, taking a few that don't have the mysterious green sauce.

Well. At least Jason finally knows why there's been an upsurgence in meta powers happening in the alley. He pretends to nurse his whiskey, occasionally spilling some when he's sure no one will notice. Making up his mind, Jason sets down the glass, the ice cubes barely clinking under the pounding music, and reaches for the basket of fries, dragging it closer to him.

Uncertainly, Jason decides to pour the ranch over the fries, making sure to smother the green sauce. He musters his lackluster appetite and takes a bite of the loaded fries. It tastes like the best greasy junk food he's ever had. Jason apologizes to the chili dogs of his childhood and begins to devour the fries. The bartender drifts by and slides him another whiskey.

Danny gestures to the empty glasses of the working girls that were sitting near him and Jason nods his ascent. Danny winks, blows Jason another kiss and whisks off. Jason feels his shoulders relax, and grabs his new whiskey, and just fucking downs it in one go.

Jason. Doesn't know why he just did that. He feels suddenly anxious and stands up. His body tips, hips bumping into the bar. It jostles him. The pounding of the music matches the beat of his heart. And all of a sudden, Jason feels relaxed and he leisurely swings his glass in the air, catching Danny's attention. He's in the middle of shaking some drinks for the women at the other side of the bar.

“Another round for any lovely lady! On the house!” Jason yells, he's certain he's drowned out by whatever music is playing and he doesn't find it in himself to care.

Danny smiles, eyes crinkling and eyeliner smudging. He tells the women he's serving the good news and they cheer. Danny hands them their drinks and then blows another kiss to Jason. The gathered ladies laugh and also drunkenly blow him another kiss.

Jason throws his head and laughs. He sits drunkenly back onto the bar-stool. He shouldn't be this out of it over a glass of whiskey. The loaded fries shimmer in front of him, and Jason simply can't resist the temptation.

[winkle-pickers]

Finally got the server together, cracked open a few bottles of wine & whiskey at our various locations throughout the continent, and watched this piece of cinéma which has been making the rounds on tumblr. Spoiler alert: It's. SO GOOD

Highlights include:

Yugi's wig actively fighting for its life in every scene

Téa and Mai get to duel each other!!

Bandit Keith. REX. RAPTOR.

The guy who plays Kaiba puts his entire pussy into a frankly bang-on Eric Stuart impression. Also is clearly the cast member who has seen the anime the most times

The scene where you can visibly see the budget doubling. Joey's hair volume also abruptly doubles in this scene

The guy who plays Yugi uses his actual baby to play Baby Yugi (who is in the film for ???? reasons) and then properly credits the baby at the end

The words "Millennial Pieces" are uttered, and I won't tell you by whom

Server conjecture is that the Duel Monsters may have been modeled in Second Life

I swear to god this is barely even a fraction of spoilers. There's so much more. I didn't even get into Mokuba "Tommy Wiseau" Kaiba or....the whole thing Grandpa's got going on.

WATCH IT. It's free on Tubi and only 45min. The Millennial Pieces compel you

[megustacat]

30 Jason Mendal Head Canons - Imagines from someone who does not like him so much

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non-explicit but slight nsfw mentions below

◎━━━━━━◎.◈.◎━━━━━━◎

Enjoys and collects expensive whiskeys from all around the world, also collects cigars - especially the Cuban ones.

Gets a kick out of power - will keep you in suspense because he likes to see you struggle and then releases you as the relieving savior that he is (and yes, I mean that in every possible way).

Has a collection of several black suits which are all the same model.  

Goes for Sunday drives in one of his cabrios as soon as there is one single ray of sunshine out - also drives like an asshole and will tailgate you even if you are already 10 over speed limit. Road rage is real with him.

Has a pool table room in his mansion where he keeps his whiskey bottles neatly organized and plays pool against his visitors - he will always win and he will let you know that he is going to win.

Sore loser - especially in competitions he is good at.

As ambitious as it gets - will stay after hours and also work from home. Sundays are rarely a Sunday for him.

His love language is Giving Gifts - loves to buy clothes and jewelry for his partner, but also other trinkets and things that will serve as a constant reminder of him being in your life.  

Possessive. Will leave love bites all over you and will compromise little.

If he had to choose a pet he would go for a cat. It must be a black cat though and she has to be well behaved. Doesn’t like dogs and their blind loyalty and especially not their smell.

Red wine drinker. Almost as bad a divorced auntie.

Uses hand lotion and chapstick regularly but would not admit to it.

Reads the newspaper on a daily basis and puts a lot of importance on staying informed and on top of recent trends. Judges you if you are not interested in politics and economics and finds it childish to not stay involved in what is going on in the world.

Apple fanboy. Every tech item he owns is from Apple and he will immediately have the newest tech iterations on launch day.

Goes to opera but is not very interested in it. Sees that more as an opportunity to go there with potential clients and discuss business matters.

Always plans slightly over the briefed client budget and then argues with them. Is willing to go down but wants to test his clients. Can effort to lose the ones who are not willing to invest more, and also gladly lets them go.

Has an older sister, who’s a mean girl. Now that they are older they get along better and are mean girls together.

Bondage.

Is very charming when it comes to networking. Meeting new clients and other potential company leads for collaboration is easy for him and he is a sharp observer. Finds it easy to be charismatic and connect quickly and reads people like a book.

Private jet is love, private jet is life.

Loves to travel, especially with his partner. Not because he necessarily wants to see the world or the big wonders of it but because he wants to physically distance himself from his work. He takes it very seriously so actively seeking physical distance from it is one of his ways to get away from it for good.

Has a private coach with whom he works out a lot, at least three times a week, to keep himself healthy.

Generally puts a lot of emphasis on being and staying healthy, like eating well, working out, ergonomic working with standing desks, regular med checks up, to the point where he almost feels like a hypochondriac. Also loves to regularly have saunas.

Judging and directiv. Doesn’t like to elaborate on decisions, mostly wants to have them respected and followed. Also, very direct and ordering when he talks to people. You will hear him say “Listen here”, “Let’s do this”, “Talk to me” a lot in his speech pattern.

Follows in the steps of his father who expected him to also make it big, like him. Jason always felt pressure to accommodate and now that he succeeded over his father, it still seems like there is still no satisfaction. Does not have the best bond to him, but will always have his father as his biggest male influence in his life, seeking a never satisfied-approval from him and mostly finding frustration and criticism.

Plays Golf. Of course he does. Prepare to be the golf cart princess / prince, and pop a bottle of champagne every time he scores a hole in one. He lets you play as often as you like, but he likes it the most when he sees you cheer for him.

Actively participates in day-trading, and if he can’t do it he has a personal stock trader do it for him (which is most of the time because he is too busy with work).

Has a large selection of guide books for succeeding in various fields in life - whether that’s financials, work optimization, self-confidence, charisma and communication. If he reads fiction he likes to go for classics. Can and will judge you on your taste in literature. Finds poetry a waste of time.

His favorite movie director is Christopher Nolan and he can and will make you watch every single one of his movies. Could discuss Interstellar and Inception for hours on end.

Even though he prefers to have people follow his orders and respect his decisions without questioning them, he wants and needs you to go against him. He wants to have constant stimulation in his relationship, mostly in the form of receiving contra from you. It keeps him on his feet and specifically wants you to be different to the world around him. He doesn’t want you to go too far, and generally wants you to agree with him on basic ideologies, but he needs your backlash - it keeps his love for you alive.

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 17: Cock Warming

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Word counting: 710

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Just Jack orbiting between being a whining baby and the marvelous husband he is.

Main Masterlist | Cowboytober Masterlist

Having to work on-site at the Statesman branch in New York was probably Jack’s top 1 nightmare. Yes, he hated those stupid online meets either, but even that was better than being in that city. He didn’t have anything personal against the city itself, but the whole metropolis thing was a pain in the ass for him: unending traffic, constant noise, everything was so similar and gray, and even on the spacious houses with well-sized backyards he had the feeling of being inside a cage.

The only thing that made him less miserable was having your company during the whole torturous process, pulling his CEO privileges to take you to work with him, or authorizing your entry into the building at any time.

That afternoon wasn’t an exception. Jack had various meetings in a row by the morning, when everything was solved, he ran back home, gladder than ever for having chosen a condo on Rose Hill that was just 10 minutes walking away from Statesman. After having lunch, complaining even about the grammage of the papers used for the company papers, and a 20 minutes nap, he was back at his office on the 39th floor, but fortunately, he had your company to make what was left of his shift more bearable, his stress magi8cally disappearing every time he squeezed any part of you or when you moved to settle better on his lap, making his cock awake inside you once more.

Yes, the oldest and most effective way to make his day better. There was no soothing medicine or breath control technique that would make his day better so effectively as being buried into your warm core while reading all that boring paperwork, and, to be fair, you liked that; being all cozy on Jack’s lap while nonchalantly scrolling your phone, or being nosy on the Statesman papers, or simply snuggling against Jack’s chest.

“Are these made of gold or something?” you questioned while inspecting some random budget lists on his desk, one of which listed the price of a single sparkling wine bottle.

“What is it, darlin’?” Jack asked with a chuckle at your adorably shocked manner and looked at the paper “Well, it comes with a single diamond and some handmaid details in gold.” Jack smiled widely as you seemed even more shocked.

“I didn’t even know Statesman had such expensive ass things.” You said with a frown.

“If it makes you less shocked, we just manufacture it for another brand.”

“Well, it surely makes me less upset because we never gave me one to try.” You joked with a playful pout, smiling when Jack hugged you tight and kissed the curve of your neck.

“I’ll get you one before we go home.” He said calmly and kissed your cheek “You see why I need you around to work better?”

“Why do I have the feeling it ain’t only because of my dubious humor?” you wiggled your eyebrows softly while shifting a bit on his lap, feeling him tensing slightly.

“One thing complements the other.” Jack shrugged and pulled you slightly loser, resting your back against his chest.

“We can’t really interrupt your shift to have some fun?” you looked at him pouting once again, starting to get impatient with having such a limited taste of him.

“No, no, darlin’. I need to get these done today to finally fly back to Kentucky tonight if I have the chance.” He answered calmly, despite being serious “And you’ll keep pretty sat on my lap while sneaking into my paperwork.” He leaned slightly, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Fine.” You agreed despite still wanting to move it further. When Jack got distracted again with his work, you took your chances, slowly grinding your hips back and forward on his lap, sighing with the feeling of his softened cock starting to grow hard inside you, but your fun was quickly cut by his arm wrapping around your hips and stopping you.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked with a chuckle and kissed your temple, still looking at what he was reading.

“You can’t blame me for trying.” You laughed and grabbed the budget list back to resume your reading “I’ll judge Statesman’s expenses in the meantime.”

Tagging: @missladym1981 @alex-does-art-things @beefrobeefcal

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ Shigaraki places a soft kiss on your temple and groans. “See, you could be so fucking good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return, slipping his fingers out of your mouth and wiping your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“You’re fucking insane,” is all you can whisper, turning your head to look away, but he just grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to be back on him.

“Thought we already established that? ◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Very Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Past Child Abuse, Bullying, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight • Nine • Ten(ko) • Eleven • Twelve • Thirteen

Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect So far, tonight has only been two things. Boring, and incredibly annoying.

Maybe it’s the lack of alcohol in your system that makes you feel like this plane is crashing, meaning you ought to fix that.

Abandoning the idea of going back to the bar entirely, you head out for the open drinks in the living room, the ones available for anyone to roofie. A bunch of people elbow you on the way, but you’re buzzed enough not to mind anymore, focusing on the music pumping the blood in your veins. 

As much as you hate that asshole, the music that’s been playing so far wasn’t the worst. 

You find a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of coke and you pour those motherfuckers into a big cup, swirling it around while praying you’ll have a well-deserved blackout in the morning. God this party sucks.

The plan wasn’t to get wasted, but you don’t think you can stomach waiting for Taylor without being highly intoxicated anymore. And you’re not about to be the party grinch that cuts their best friend’s fun short over some toxic bitches from high school. They’ll make it up to you though, because they definitely will watch that movie they promised to watch with you tomorrow, when both of you are puking your guts out.

Time eventually passes, allowing the alcohol to properly loosen you up and making dancing seem more appealing than sulking in a corner, bored out of your mind while strangers dry hump each other. You get positively lost in the rhythm, until you eventually get tired enough to pull out your phone and check for any updates from your friend.

Taytay – dd ykn w ur th best [Sent 10:19 PM]

Taytay – I f knig lov u nbitch’;’2134 <5 [Sent 10:23 PM]

The random strings of letters your wasted friend spammed you with, brings warmth to your chest, making you genuinely smile—until someone fucking bumps into you and knocks you away from the dancing mass. 

You glare at the assholes (plural), but they pay you no mind and honestly you didn’t have time to dwell on it for much longer. The crowd parts just enough for you to catch a glimpse of a strangely familiar looking group, hanging out on the couch not too far away from where you stand.

Feeling dizzy, you try to get a better look, inching closer and squinting to see better through the flickering lights—until you realize the person you recognized earlier is… Shigaraki?

You swallow hard. Why is he here?

Next to Shigaraki who is manspreading on the couch sits Dabi, the Dabi, not the budget version this time. You’re now ninety percent convinced Mina’s purple-haired arm candy copy-pasted his style from him. And if that wasn’t just your delusion, you’d say Dabi wore it better.

Neither him nor Shigaraki are sitting by themselves, though.

Some slut is giving Dabi the equivalent of a lap dance, basically all but riding his cock in plain view. But that isn't the issue. No, the issue are the talons gripping Shigaraki’s shoulder, fingertips digging into the fabric of his t-shirt and him just fucking staring at her grip in a daze. She looks exactly like the type of girl you’d speculated he’d be into, back when you only thought of him as a creep.

Something indescribable and ugly courses through your blood, clawing at your heart and twisting it in your chest. You shift your gaze from him to the rest of his group, taking note of three other dudes and the blonde chick that looks a little too young to be here, passing blunts and alcohol around.

They’re all enjoying themselves, it seems, while smoking, drinking, getting high and laughing.

He is laughing.

You’re positive you’ve never seen Shigaraki laugh so freely before and that thought nags at you for some reason.

When the girl’s hand casually starts sliding closer to his chest, he seems to snap out of something. He then grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her into him so hard she almost loses her balance and whispers something into her ear with a creepy smile on his face. You watch the interaction and frown, as Dabi’s hands press her closer into him and he angrily shouts something at Shigaraki in return, but Shigaraki only holds her hand tighter, his signature smile only spreading wider.

It’s not a surprise for you to figure out that you aren’t special. 

But seeing it in front of your drunk fucking eyes ends up burning like acid. So much for that fucking confession huh? 

You can’t handle watching them any longer, so you look away and empty the remaining contents of your plastic cup, crumpling it in the process and missing the look of horror on her gorgeous fucking face as you chuck the offending piece of garbage at the floor.

Why the fuck would he lie to you? Why go through the trouble of confessing to you, of attempting to mend things between the two of you?

And why the fuck do you care who he toys with? Shouldn’t you be happy?!

Your bubbling feeling of betrayal threatens to suffocate you, when you notice someone from the group waving excitedly in your direction.

Huh?

He shouts something at his friends, handing his smoke and drink to the blonde chick while you squint your eyes in an attempt to comprehend what the fuck was going on. You thought you were mistaken, but then six pairs of eyes start scanning the room until their gaze finally lands in your direction.

Shigaraki’s eyes visibly widen the moment he sees you and you look around yourself feeling flustered, counting on a miracle that it isn’t you they’re all fucking looking at.

You quickly realize how morbidly wrong you are, when your arcade friend sets off in a rush to get to you, swerving through the mass of bodies.

Fuck.

It quickly becomes clear to you that you’re not ready for another bout of trouble tonight, so you try getting away before your friend reaches you, hoping—fucking praying—to melt with the crowd and lose them. To pretend like there weren’t two pairs of eyes, angry crimson and amused cerulean, both staring holes through your body.

Unfortunately your hopes for a quick getaway are cut extremely short, when a strong buff arm grabs you by your shoulder, effectively spinning you around and pulling you into a sweaty bear hug.

“Holy fuck!” Shuichi shouts happily through the music before slouching to speak into your ear, “Can’t believe I got to see you here! A-Ah, sorry ‘m still high as fuck. Are you by yourself?”

Your drunk head nods at that, trying to make sense of what was going on, but the greeting is cut short when you spot Shigaraki swiftly cutting through half of the room in the blink of an eye, pushing bodies away from him while his flock hurries to follow behind. Shuichi leans in more, body-blocking your vision and his cheeks are pink while he says something to you. You however can’t focus.

A hand appears on his shoulder and Shigaraki violently shoves his friend to the side, tightened jaw and flared nostrils. He’s absolutely livid.

“Fucking my friends now too, huh? Disgusting fucking whore.” Shigaraki actually spits in front of your feet and you nearly get fucking hit if not for your reflexes. 

You take a step back and scrunch your nose in the process. When you look around, you notice you’re surrounded by a circle of his people. People you’ve only heard of from insane fucking rumors.

Shuichi regains his balance and looks at the two of you bewildered. “Y-You guys… know each other?”

Shigaraki finally breaks the intense eye contact with you and snaps his head to his friend.

“Know each other?” he growls through clenched teeth.

The blonde girl starts jumping excitedly, face contorting into a sort of unsettling manic look. Dabi only smiles at you slyly while his slut is in tow, raising his hand to wave at you, wriggling his fingers playfully before crossing his arms.

A million thoughts run through your head and you close your eyes, rubbing at your forehead.

The fuck? Are all his friends insane? They should know that a fight’s about to break out, right? And knowing Shigaraki, it’s bound to get ugly. Are they not concerned at all? 

Unless…

Unless that’s exactly the kind of thing they’re looking forward to.

A tremor runs through your bones. This is not high school anymore and you aren’t a teen fighting other teenagers anymore. These are possible adult criminals, standing around, waiting for something to happen.

And you cannot take Shigaraki in a real fight. You know that much.

Random people are now also turning their heads, trying to figure out what’s going on and eventually pulling out their phones to either text or film the potential shit-show. 

You now realize how badly you’d fucked up to get drunk.

“Answer me, bitch. Are you fucking my friends?” He grabs the fabric of your clothes and pulls you to him, red eyes full of contempt.

“Don’t blame her boss,” a low rough speaks up before you can and adds, “Met her in the store earlier this week, lookin’ at me all starry eyed,” Dabi coos, sending you a kiss and fueling Shigaraki’s fury for no other reason than to get you into trouble, ignoring the obvious disappointment on his partner for the night. “Lemme take a turn after you. I don’t mind fucking cute ‘lil hoes.”

It works like a fucking charm, because Shigaraki looks at you like he was about to set fire to this entire fucking building together with you in it.

Your head spins fast now, anxiety spiking up. There’s too many voices. Too many people. Too much shit going wrong tonight.

You’re scared, you’re pissed, you wanna go home.

You’re tired, you’re tired, you’re tired. You miss your—

Shigaraki snarls at you with narrowed eyes, saying something you didn’t catch, and you—and you snap.

“Fucking—ENOUGH!” you scream at the top of your lungs and straight into Shigaraki’s face, making him flinch and loosen his grip.

Then you do the only thing your drunk, overwhelmed brain can think of. 

You slap the absolute living shit out of Shigaraki Tomura.

The entire room, including yourself, gasps in unison.

He’s completely frozen, one hand placed on the rapidly reddening cheek as he stares into space. 

You hear his friends giggle and see Dabi toppling over in laughter. 

The only person who’s more unamused than you and the guy you just humiliated in front of an entire party of people, is Shuichi. Not only was he unamused, he was shaking, looking absolutely horrified at what you’ve done. And when you look into his eyes, you realize it’s not just out of concern for his friend.

The music died down completely by now and you unwillingly somehow became the protagonist of this room.

When you step away, your back hits the front of one of Shigaraki’s taller dark-haired friends, who’s sporting the smuggest look. It tells you you’re not fucking going anywhere. 

“Uh oh! Creep’s gonna snap her neck!” some random asshole says in the back of the crowd and you frown.

That seems to wake him up. He suddenly lunges forward, forcefully grabbing your arm and dragging you with him… somewhere, but his plans are cut short when Taylor drunkenly steps in to break up whatever this mess was that you got yourself into.

“Ya, okay, enough of that!” They clap their hands twice like they’re talking to some servant and grab Shigaraki’s arm to get him off of you.

He shoves them out of the way, causing your drunk friend to lose their footing and hit the floor hard.

Your eyes widen and you scream at him, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as you could. He groans, letting go of you in favor of clutching his stomach and finally freeing you.

It takes a moment for your brain to register the blonde chick reaching for something, seeing a glint of familiar shaped metal as you stumble to get to your friend who’s now kneeling on the floor with tears running down their face.

Shigaraki shoots his arm out when he notices his friend stepping in your direction and you belatedly realize she held a knife. The blonde bitch was just about to fucking stab you, had he not stopped her. 

You swallow emptily, feeling yourself beginning to shake, all color draining from your face.

“Don’t—Don’t you fucking dare touch them again, you—you s-sick, depraved—fucking—fucking assholes!” you yell at everyone in the room, struggling to help your friend up.

Why is no one doing anything? Where are all of Taylor’s useless fucking friends to help when they needed them?

You look around but all you can see are cold stares. Nobody lifts a finger.

Nobody dares to cross him.

A bead of sweat rolls down your brow and your eyes snap to the direction of a deranged giggle, only to find red irises filled to the brim with unadulterated glee, staring right back at you.

Tomura felt something going off in his brain, the moment he saw your adorably lost and confused face looking for help.

You’re finally, finally realizing it, aren’t you?

He walks over to you, sinking on one knee and you curse yourself for listening to Taylor and leaving your pepper spray at home in favor of this stupid fucking outfit. You consider your odds in a fight, but one look into his terrifying eyes has you second-guessing yourself long enough that he reaches forward first, fingers splayed.

Shigaraki grabs you by your hair and gets up, forcing you to let go of your friend as you’re dragged to your feet. Taylor whimpers from somewhere beneath you, but his tense grip wouldn’t allow you to turn your head and look.

You’ve never seen him this angry, this fucking savage.

The speechless crowd and his cruel amused friends all split, making way for him, as if it’s Moses himself parting the red fucking sea.

You were too dizzy from the alcohol and too focused on the burning roots of your head, but you think you climbed a few stairs and walked a little longer until he suddenly shoved you into one of the rooms in the house, him being right behind you.

Two strangers were caught in the act, but a quick look of recognition over Shigaraki’s form and a barked order from him was enough for them to fuck off faster than you could ask for help. Not that you had much hope they would.

Because he was right. You did finally realize.

You finally realize why everyone flinched when he passed by. Why they whispered behind his back, but cowered if he were to give them a dirty look. Why there were so many wild rumors surrounding him and his shitty friends.

It’s because those aren’t fucking rumors!

Hearing the telltale click of a door locking behind you has you turning around, hand clutching over your other arm in an attempt to stop it from shaking and willing your brain to sober up. 

He’s still holding the handle to your exit, body facing you completely and his demeanor impossibly calm, compared to earlier. 

It must be a facade you think, because you feel the familiar dread you’d always feel as a kid when adults were about to snap and make you wish you were never born. That’s where your anxiety disorder stems from, now serving as an alarm for you to be careful. He’s dangerous.

You hate this. You hate this so fucking much. You hate that all he has to do is stand there and watch you, for you to freeze the fuck up and be unable to further move. The corner of his mouth lifts, smirking at you like he knows.

“Let’s talk, hm?”

Your breathing accelerates, chest rising and falling as your oxygen intake triples and the corners of your eyes burn. 

“You—you literally said—No! You promised!” you choke out, the shakiness of your hand spreading all the way to your shoulders as you speak to the white-haired devil, “You fucking promised not to do this anymore!” You’re sobbing now, fat fucking tears rolling down your cheeks and leaving dark trails of ruined mascara in their wake. “You promised…”

“So I lied. Now answer my fucking question,” Shigaraki growls at you, letting go of the handle and flexing his fingers at his sides. “Did you think it was fun? Telling me you like me, making me run around like some fucking idiot?”

He steps forward and your brain struggles to understand. 

What is he saying? When did you ever tell him that you—

The phone call.

“What? Are you—Are you joking right now? Y-You can’t do this! You’re ruining any chances of—of fixing things, with every second—” Your voice cracks. “With every fucking second that I’m locked in this fucking room with you, Shigaraki!”

But he just takes another step in your direction.

“That’s okay.” He smiles. “Maybe you’re right, for once.” His fingers reach the back of his neck and he rubs it thoughtfully, humming as he advances in your direction, slowly, like a predator and more self-assured than you’ve ever seen him be. “Maybe I am done playing nice.”

You take a tentative step back, rolling your eyes in faux confidence, unable to smother the growing anxiety. 

“T-That so? A deranged lunatic doing something psychotic? W-Who would’ve thought.”

His smirk breaks into a chilling smile at that, but he doesn’t stop stalking towards you. Until the back of your knees meet the frame of someone’s bed. 

“Still so fucking mouthy.”

You glance behind you nervously. “S-So what now.” You close your eyes, biting your lower lip and frowning before turning to look at him again. He’s right in front of you. “Gonna rape me? Teach me a lesson?”

Shigaraki chuckles, amused by your stupid question.

“Nah.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly before closing the distance and towering over you, placing a hand squarely against your sternum and effortlessly shoving you back. 

You fall gracelessly on top of the bed, immediately grimacing at the thought of someone’s bare sweaty ass being exactly where your head now lays. Your focus shifts back to the man that’s watching you from above with a raised chin.

He looks ethereal like this, you think. Soft warm yellows coming from the dimly lit bedside lamp, illuminating his features only partially. A beautiful monster.

Shigaraki tilts his head. “Now, we’re going to talk.”

“Yeah? Well you better talk fast, because people—” you stutter, feeling angry, scared and ashamed all at once. “B-Because people… Because Taylor will call the cops on you!”

And the fucking second you finish babbling your empty threats, you hear the party come alive once again, music blaring and vibrating through however many layers of brick separated you from the main room. Nobody’s going to be able to hear you.

You curse under your breath.

“Are they now?”

“Shigaraki, stop.”

“God, you look so fucking adorable when you’re scared of me. Gets me really fucking hard,” he groans, brows pinched as he shamelessly starts palming himself through his jeans.

You can’t help but glance at his hand anxiously, feeling your heart beating faster.

“Stop. Don’t fucking do this to me. Please don’t do this to me,” you beg uselessly, screwing your wet eyes shut, trying to mentally separate yourself from him as much as possible.

But Tomura could only revel at the sound of your desperate pleas.

Yes—fucking yes! At last.

He cracks a wide grin, the only regret on his mind being not picking this path sooner. This is something he was used to. So much more efficient to use terror in order to break you down and make you his. How fucking pathetic of him to attempt something like making you want to be with him.

He could barely hold back his delight. You were so close.

Shigaraki climbs up your legs, effectively straddling you and patiently observing your reaction.

“I said relax, idiot,” he tells you, but the way he reaches his hand out and uses his dry, rough knuckles to slowly brush the side of your cheek, does absolutely nothing to help you relax. His touch feels like warm sandpaper, and you can’t help but squirm under it. “We’re just going to talk.”

His fingers uncurl, exploring the planes of your soft face, pads running gently over the bridge of your nose all the way to your lips. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he’s admiring you, by the slightly dazed look in his eyes. The same dazed look he gave that whore.

Shigaraki’s gaze falls upon your lips as he pushes his index finger into your mouth. You go ahead and bite it hard enough to leave a deep reddened dent. It doesn’t faze him in the slightest, and instead prompts him to force a second digit in as he smiles at you wickedly.

“Sho fuhkin’ tawk then,” you mumble around his bitter fingers, words coming out all funny while you feel shame burning in your cheeks and at the corner of your eyes. You place both hands firmly against his chest, looking for a semblance of separation. For any sort of false security.

His sinister smile spreads even wider, before he leans in so close to your ear that you feel his breath fanning against it. He huffs wryly before speaking again, his voice taking on a progressively higher note, “Y’know, you’re a pretty low-level boss.” Shigaraki snickers, “Unique character design, shitty confusing puzzles, but a lot of weak exploitable points I can hit. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

He’s biting his lower lip, pulling back just enough for you to look him in the eyes as he tilts his head. 

Gone were the traces of his softness from the time before tonight, all replaced by what looked like honest malice and bitter spite towards you.

The only way you could reply is with a pathetic whimper. He clicks his tongue at that.

“Do you understand how easy it would be to get rid of that flimsy scholarship of yours? Or use your filthy fucking sex tapes, of you letting some lowlife scumbag fuck you—” Shigaraki grimaces, but his scary smile quickly returns to his lips. “And… your past,” he whispers to you with an upward lilt in his tone, taking his fingers out and resting them on top of your lip, allowing for your reaction to his revelation.

“W-What? How did you—”

It’s his unhinged giggles that cut you off. 

“People talk. You’d be surprised how easily they give me what I want, once they feel threatened enough,” he says, voice dark and foreboding.

You wanted to rebuke him, you really did, but the second your mouth opens again, Shigaraki slips his already spit-covered fingers all the way to the back of your throat, the brusqueness of it prompting you to gag ugly.

You try to reach for his wrist, to push it away, but he’s stronger and he’s faster. He shakes his head at your disobedience, using his free grip to grab both of your hands and effortlessly pinning them to the side of your head, twisting your body in an uncomfortably forced position.

Was every time you could push him around just for show? And are you seriously only realizing that now?

Shigaraki waits for your erratic breathing to slow down before he begins tormenting you, pumping his long, bony fingers in and out of your mouth sickeningly slowly. 

The sound of you gagging over and over and the wet sloppy squelches of your mouth echo throughout the room, complemented by dampened party music and sounds of his increasingly labored breathing.

You choke and try struggling again, but he doesn’t let you.

“Shh, I’ve seen you take worse. That’s right. Like that. Fuck,” he purrs, face close to yours, gaze fixated on the way your mouth clings to his fingers. You cringe when you feel him lick a long and disgusting stripe from the bottom of your cheek, all the way to the source of the bitter tears. “Good girl.”

Shigaraki places a soft kiss on your temple and groans. “See, you could be so fucking good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return, slipping his fingers out of your mouth and wiping your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“You’re fucking insane,” is all you can whisper, turning your head to look away, but he just grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to be back on him.

“Thought we already established that?

You spit in his face and he flinches.

Catching him off-guard is a privilege you’ll take, so you quickly free yourself from his grip. Before he snaps out of his stun, you grab his shirt and your fist flies towards his face using whatever leverage you have from this awkward position. 

It’s now or fucking never.

“You little—!” Shigaraki growls at you, immediately dropping his entire weight on top of your body before your punch can even connect, causing you to uselessly smack the top part of his shoulder and making you howl in frustration.

He slides his arms to grab each of yours, now using bruising force to truly render them useless at the sides of your head. 

“Are you fucking trying to piss me off today?” he barks at you, gritting his teeth and getting halfway up to shift one of his knees on top of your stomach, pressing his weight into it.

“Urk—” You almost literally vomit in his face from the pressure, but he lets up before you can.

“Gonna behave now and listen to what I have to fucking say, or are you going to keep being difficult?”

Difficult?! You’re being difficult? You could fucking laugh if this wasn’t quickly climbing up the ranks as one of the worst nights of your life. So you just roll your eyes instead, as if you weren’t a quivering mess. As if he wasn’t scaring you.

Tomura’s gaze narrows. 

He thought he was closer to breaking you, but you obviously still have a lot of fight left in you. After all, you’ve been through worse.

So maybe he has to truly outmatch your greatest monsters then. He should start easy.

“Answer my question, slut. Next time you don’t, I’ll have to start punishing you,” Shigaraki grunts but you remain defiantly quiet.

He scoffs, lifting his knee away from your sensitive stomach, earning him a relieved exhale from you. That moment of reprieve quickly turns into alarm the moment he wedges it between your thighs instead, mere inches away from your cunt. 

He smirks at your horrified expression and begins pressing it against your core experimentally, drawing out a pathetic whimper from you.

“Oh?” he breathes into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he bends his body to repeat the motion. That, unfortunately, wins him another distressed gasp from you. 

“Fuck. That’s hot,” Shigaraki groans like the depraved fucking virgin he is, momentarily forgetting that this is supposed to be your punishment. 

An idea pops into your head.

You close your eyes and softly grind yourself up against his thigh, pretending it’s involuntary, that you don’t want him to notice. It should be easy, right? You know what you’re doing, after all.

Except it slightly backfires once you start genuinely feeling a little hot, the pressure of him pressing his thigh against you making your face slightly scrunch up in pleasure. You try to even your expression, to seem unaffected.

When you open your eyes, Shigaraki looks a little more disheveled than before, his vindictive demeanor from seconds ago slightly softened. Hope blooms inside your chest.

And for the first time tonight, he throws you a playful look. 

“Thought you didn’t want to fuck me?”

God, he’s such a fucking loser, it makes you snort.

“You call getting myself off on your leg ‘fucking’ you? Pathetic.”

Something dangerous sparks in his red obsessive eyes. It sends a jolt through your spine all the way to your core, making you swallow. Hard. 

“Okay.” He presses his forehead against yours and chuckles darkly.

“Huh?”

Shigaraki repeats the motion, putting more pressure against your heat. “Go ahead, then. Get yourself off.”

“You’re a fucking freak,” you conclude, moving away from him despite the blush spreading on your cheeks and the disgusting warmth that was growing between your legs. 

The only pathetic idiot in this room is you. You and your stupid fucking plan.

“What’s wrong?” He leans in smugly, nose brushing yours and the overwhelming cigarettes and gin in his breath overwhelming your nose. “Done already? Was even gonna let you cum even tho’ you don’t deserve it.”

You roll your eyes and miss the slight disappointment crossing his features. He licks his lips and you glance at his mouth for less than a split second, but he catches it.

“Wanna kiss me?” Shigaraki tilts his head and the grin on his face spreads.

“In your fucking dreams,” you lie. “Enough. I’m tired of this shit, let me go.”

“Really? See now, here’s the thing. My hunch is telling me that you kinda enjoy being put in your place.” His eyes widened for a second before narrowing again. “Isn’t that why you keep being a bitch all the fuckin’ time?”

“Should I help you schedule an eye exam then?”

“Mmm.” Shigaraki dips his head to the junction between your neck and your shoulder, deeply inhaling your scent like the fucking pervert he is. “So mouthy. If you’re still able to snap back like that, it means I’m being too nice.”

He finally lets go of one of your arms, sliding his hand all the way to your neck, spindly fingers wrapping around it and squeezing experimentally.

“Why… why do you act so—” Shigaraki tightens his grip some more, making you struggle to breathe the words out, “fu—fuh—ck’d u-up?”

His mouth falls open, smile dropping as he looks at you in awe. The sight of you made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Because I want you,” he admits completely unapologetically, then leans in to press his dry, cracked lips to the side of your neck, kissing it softly. The rough texture and the contrast of the oddly gentle kiss makes you shiver. Shigaraki whispers, “And I’ve decided that I’m gonna have you.”

You really didn’t mean to, but the audacity makes you burst into hysterical laughter, which he immediately cuts off together with your fucking airway, using the hand that still rested on your neck. You gasp soundlessly.

“Is it that funny?” Blunt teeth graze the sensitive skin on your neck before his voice becomes low and threatening, “Did you fuck Spinner?”

Shigaraki forgets you can’t breathe, holding your neck with so much force that you start seeing black spots forming around your vision.

Only when your chest starts slightly convulsing does he let up.

“Fu-uck.” you cough, cringing away from him and breathing like it’ll be your last time. “W-Who?”

“Don’t act stupid now,” he hisses. “The fucking nerd with long purple hair.”

“Oh… him?” You grin angrily, slightly inclining upwards and touching noses with him. “That’s none of your business.”

—was the wrong thing to say, because Shigaraki punches the bed with brutal fucking force right next to your head, making you jump.

“FUCKING ANSWER ME!” he screams at you and you flinch again.

“N-No, you asshole. I didn’t fuck any of your friends.” 

“Then why—!”

Shigaraki slumps, face remaining hidden from behind white locks of hair.

You’re staring at the ceiling as long-dried tears quickly burn their way back and you feel a familiar tightening in your chest. He then slowly sits up, looking down at you again and your gaze follows him until his whole body weight lifts from you.

Tomura can see the faint red outline of his hand forming your neck. His gaze hardens and he goes back to his stiff, unemotional self.

“Doesn’t matter,” he resolves in a tone so cold, it gives you goosebumps.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean, that starting tonight you’ll become my bitch.” He pushes himself off the bed, fixing his clothes. You can’t help but stare at him in disbelief. “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do, and if you don’t—” He smirks at you sadistically before continuing, “If you don’t, I’ll just destroy everything you’ve ever cared about. That’s a promise.”

He pats down his arms and clothes as if to dust your filthy presence off.

You lie motionless at first, frowning until the words finally register into your alcohol addled brain. So you’re sitting up, face contorting in anger because you’ve had enough of his shit.

“You’re absolutely fucking nuts if you think I’ll—”

A sharp crack echoes in the room and judging by the position of your head and the painful sting in your face, you realize Shigaraki had struck you across the face. Hard.

You can’t hold back the violent sobs that escape you.

“Got your attention?” he growls at you, grabbing you by the roots of your hair and turning your head to him. You vaguely register his clenched jaw. “You’re a pathetic self-destructive little whore,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “And you should’ve killed yourself when you had the chance to, right after I showed that cute little ass to everyone. But you know what?”

The warmth of his breath brushes over your hurting cheek.

“Now you belong to me. So go ahead and fucking try blowing your brains out. Because not only will I make true on everything I fucking told you, but your precious little friend, your coworkers, your manager, even your fucking therapist will regret the day you were fucking born.”

“No…”

“Just like mommy did. That’s why she left your brother to die and shot herself up with heroin until she fucking left you too. Just like your brother, from under his cozy little grav—”

You don’t remember much, but you feel your throat being sore. It’s weird though, because you don’t remember yourself screaming. Or how you landed in the middle of the street, shoes and your jacket long forgotten.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been walking for, or where you were.

You don’t remember, but you can’t seem to stop trembling or crying hysterically and you don’t know what to do.

You don’t know what to do.

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

— NEW MESSAGES —

Psycho – im acc nice to my toys so ill look past ur little temper tantrum this time [Sent 2:34 AM]

Psycho – u better show 2 class tmr otherwise i promise u really won’t like what will happen if u dont. [Sent 2:35 AM]

Psycho – sweet dreams :) [Sent 2:35 AM]

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Stillwater - Stuart Scola x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @greenies-green @burningpeachpuppy @upsteadlogic @malindacath @yezzyyae @noxytopy @district447 @soultrysworld

Prequel to Unruly (NSFW) - You get a little territoral when it comes Stuart.

Hitting the Secret Admirer Bingo Square

When the bottle of Stillwater whisky is delivered to the house on Valentine’s Day, Stuart assumes that it’s from you. You’re away in Europe, teaching explosives training to the police force in Budapest. You’ve been testing the waters, exploring more options outside of the field since the pregnancy scare a couple of months ago. It had brought up the topic of kids and whilst you weren’t ready yet, you’d started to think about it. Stuart thought at some point in the next few years the two of you may be starting your own little family.

You blew the budget, he texts you before sending a picture of himself holding up the gift.

This bottle alone costs almost five hundred dollars and he’s touched. You refuse to dip into the joint account, you’re far too independent to spend the cash he earned at Goldman Sachs despite the fact he’s told you it’s there for the both of you.

It isn’t until the late afternoon he gets the message back from you.

That isn’t from me. Maybe a wrong delivery?

He knows that can’t be true. He’d had to sign for that package, it was his name and address on the paperwork.

Yea maybe, he texts back because he doesn’t want to worry you.

You respond with a picture of yourself in City Park giving him a thumbs up. He can see agents Kellett and Vo in the background, holding takeaway cups of coffee. He finds himself smiling because you look so vibrant in that moment, so happy and relaxed. Travelling suits you he thinks, the two of you haven’t done enough of it. He makes a mental note to book a trip when you get back, maybe Barcelona or Madrid, somewhere warm to balance out the harshness of the New York winter.

It’s when he steps out of the shower that the doorbell goes, he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. The fabric clinging to his damp skin as he pads towards the door in bare feet. He’s surprised to find  Armando, the delivery driver from his favourite restaurant Villa Valencia outside, a brown paper bag of food clasped in his hand.

 “I didn’t order anything.” Stuart tells Armando as the other man hands the bag to him.

“Your girl did, she called it in about an hour ago” Armando informs him, already halfway down the steps. “She said someone should be taking care of you on Valentine’s Day.”

There’s an apprehension in his chest as he sets the bag down on the kitchen table, he picks up the delivery receipt and it’s a list of all his favourite food. Nowhere on the bill does it mention the name of the person who called in the order. He checks the time on his phone, it’s two am in Budapest, there’s no way that was you who bought his food. He dumps the takeaway bag straight in the trash.

The whiskey and now this…

It makes him uneasy. He double checks the doors and windows before he goes to bed, making sure they’re locked.

When he wakes up the next morning it’s to the scent of freshly brewed coffee. The aroma assails him and he reaches for his gun on the nightstand because he knows there isn’t a chance in hell that it’s you. You aren’t due home for over a week. Even if you’d decided to surprise him, a flight from Budapest is almost twelve hours direct, you wouldn’t be here in time for his alarm to go off.

When he steps into hall, he can hear music playing in the kitchen. Something soothing and soulful. It reminds him of the music in the coffeeshop the two of you used to frequent, the one down the block. There’s someone singing along to the song, the voice is too low for him to recognise.

He uses his palm to slowly push open the door, his gun raised. He’s surprised to find a woman standing with her back to him, she’s wearing one of his shirts and very little else. There’s a breakfast tray he doesn’t recognise in front of her. He sees the cappuccino with coffee art heart set into the foam, the toast on the side, the dainty little flower she’s placed in one of his glasses. There is no doubt in his mind, she’d intended to surprise him in bed this morning.

When she turns about to face him, he recognises her immediately and he knows exactly why this is happening.

There’s a reason you’d both stopped visiting that coffeeshop. You’d left him last year after the Mad Bomber had been released, disappeared for a few months. You’d both fucked other people in that time, falling back into old habits.

One of them had been the perky barista from the coffeeshop. She’d always paid him a little extra attention even when he came in with you. You had joked about it once upon a time, how she always left little hearts in his coffee but never in yours. She’d noticed when you stopped coming in, that he was hungover most mornings. Bad break up he’d told her. He’d bumped into her in a bar a couple of days later, gone back to her place. He’d slipped out of the sheets in the early hours of the morning the same way he did with everyone woman before and after you. He’d been upfront with her at the time.

I’m not looking to replace her, he’d said talking about you. This is just a one night thing.

He’d seen her around since then, the grocery store, one of the bars down the block, at the subway. It had stopped when you’d come back onto the scene. He’d told you about the girls he’d fucked, and you’d shared your own stories. There were a couple of overlaps, for him the barista, for you Nestor Vertiz.  You’d steered well clear of them both since, neither of you wanted your past indiscretions rubbed in the other’s face.

The worst part is he can’t even remember her name.

“Scola, you still there?” Tiffany’s voice is in his ear, as he grips the phone in one hand and his gun in the other.

He’d dialled his partner before he’d left the bedroom. She’d already been seated at her desk in 26 Fed, getting a head start on some paperwork when he’d called her.

“Yea Tiff.” He says quietly, his eyes still trained on the barista. “I need you to get a unit over here, there’s a woman in my house.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[atombonniebaby]

Hey...I'm still here...FO4 just has my undivided attention right now...🙌🏻🙌🏻

Mac goes and does this today...

Macready: What was this place for… storytime or something?

MacCready: Hi, I'm MacCready... Been drinking since I was six. Never looked back

I'm playing through chapter 3 of Sim Settlements 2, and Mac keeps finding the idle animation markers!

Here...have some "Mac does randoms stuff and I love him for it." snaps that I've wrangled up some words for!(I've also been trying to find a use for that one pic where Mac is getting scolded by his dads...)

Nate: Right ye sticky fingered wee bam...I'm down 3 bottles eh Whiskey, and Jacob here's been tellin' me a third eh the budget seems to have mistakenly been spent on cigarettes...now I know geein' ye a talkin' tae won't do didly squat... MacCready: Get to the point, boss...I got stuff to do! Nate:Okay...nae need to get crabbit...especially when there's a bunch eh caps at stake here... MacCready: Bunch of caps, huh? Okay, hotshot. Spill it... Nate: Aye...I thought that might tickle your fancy...so, how's about a wee wager? One week without a dram or a smoke passin through that smart mouth eh yours and there'll be a tidy sum at the end for ye? MacCready: A'right old man... name your price? Nate: 500 caps... and Jake's gonna lay aff the coffee...he'll pocket another 50 for every day he cannae hack it... Jake: Woah...woah...Now... hold on a dang minute, Slick! I never... Nate: Ye no remember? I said I'd move Aiden to another floor? As far away from ye as possible? Jake: Oh...oh, yeah! Now I remember...One week...whaddya say, son? MacCready: Oh man, I love the sound a pile of caps makes.

MacCready finds a few ways to keep busy...

The time flies ...

MacCready: The only thing better than getting a bunch of caps is spending a bunch of caps.

Nate gets another week before it's back to the 'phantom cigarette pose' and daily repetitions of...

"Man, I could really use a cigarette."

[bitter69uk]

“On the heels of her show-stopping numbers with Elvis in Viva Las Vegas, Ann-Margret decided to take the low road with this no-budget b&w melodrama: a surprisingly sleazy juvenile delinquent flick, with a killer performance from everyone's favourite sex kitten. John Forsythe stars as a suave, fat cat politician, whose palatial house is 'borrowed' by a bleach blonde cutie named Jody (Ann-M), dressed in nothing but a nightgown. Not unlike Goldilocks, Forsythe discovers Jody napping in his bed, and the guy is mildly intrigued by this disheveled dish with the crazy curves. And (since his wife is conveniently away) Forsythe's sympathy goes out to the teen when she tells him she a runaway from an abusive home. But he quickly learns that Jody's not your ordinary jailbait. She's on the run from the cops, after breaking out of a detention home, setting fire to the place and stabbing a guard … Lemme tell you, this flick is without a doubt the finest showcase of Ann-Margret's talents. She's a tough, no-nonsense bitch, using sex 'n' a smile to get what she wants, and this harder edge makes her more alluring than ever. When she snarls and brandishes the broken end of a whiskey bottle -- well, I think I'm in love. Plus, Forsythe is such a cardboard clod, overflowing with morality, that you can't help but enjoy watching her make him squirm. Douglas Heyes' direction is cheap but energetic, complete with an endless supply of hip dialogue and a no-compromise finale that had me cheering. Kitten is a much-loved, vicious li'l B-movie with Ann-Margret proving once and for all that she's a slut goddess extraordinaire."

/ From Steven Puchalski’s review of Kitten with a Whip in Shock Cinema magazine, 1993 (edited to remove spoilers!) /

Released sixty years ago today (4 November 1964): Kitten with a Whip. Experience this lurid exploitation classic for yourself on 21 November when the FREE monthly Lobotomy Room cinema club screens it at Fontaine's! Reserve your seat via email bookings@fontaines.bar.

[inbalanceofpower]

🌍 ☕ ✂️

🌍 for a travel-themed headcanon

until her thirties, tay was not very well-travelled. she'd been to two places, if they count because they're the places she lived/lives in. i could see her saving for a budget trip to cali, but very early in her move to the us and she definitely didn't have the funds to maximise the opportunity. it was the surfing— it called to her. she wasn't particularly bothered. she used that opportunity to explore nyc for free, cup of overpriced coffee in hand. now though, she is. and it's klaus' fault, btw. she tends to let him choose the destination, and it's rare she won't enjoy it. she likes rome, and venice, and nice and she'd probably like saint-tropez. she has places on her personal bucket list: rio de janeiro, cornwall, santorini to name a few. and i do think she deserves to experience oktoberfest at least once in her life, and also a kenyan safari.

☕ for a drink-themed headcanon

throughout the day, tay drinks coffee and water. occasionally, she'll treat herself to a cherry coke (or diet coke), with ice and lime. at night, it depends. it might be a glass of wine or the whole bottle. it might be a beer, or half of the box. if she's feeling fancy, she'll mix up a cocktail. if she's not after something strong, she'll go for a pina colada, or sex on the beach. if she is, it's more than likely a long island iced tea. if klaus can convince her, she'll have a single glass of his top-shelf whiskey. she'll feel really bad about it too. it's spenny.

✂️ for a hair-themed headcanon

tay's hair length fluctuated until klaus casually told her he preferred it long. since then, it's no shorter than the middle of her back. she also doesn't dye it a lighter blonde as regularly as she used to; if she feels like it, she will. otherwise, it's reserved for special occasions. she goes full au naturel, baby.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

You have Arthur having papa-bear (to put it lightly) moments over Alfred and Matt, and more tender moments with Zee, but are there any times Arthur's been over-protective (or possessive depending on how you see it) with Jack? It feels like Arthur leaves him to his own devices at times. As in he might internally feel gutted but gives off brusque, just-do-as-you're-told vibes. The poem on your old blog about a father sending his son off into the sea never to return just ripped my heart out. But it seems Arthur's tenderness towards Jack is something he mainly feels when Jack isn't actually there to experiance it.

November, 1805.

"Budge up and let me see,"

"There’s no need," Arthur shot back as he lifted Jack higher on his chest. "Go help Alasdair with the accounts if you want to be helpful,"

"Oh yes, let me go bother Alasdair when he’s budgeting your mercantile empire. That always goes over well and certainly won’t end with someone hurling a whiskey bottle at the wall," Rhys snorted and held his hands out. "And no need? Really? You've literally got your hands full,"

"He'll cry," Arthur said with the same despair as if Henry the Eighth was still on the throne and he had been ordered to inform someone they had been sentenced to the Tower.

"Only for a moment," Rhys said, seating himself and patting his lap. "Let me see my nephew,"

"Don't you have a sheep to shear?"

"Arthur," Rhys levelled him with a look he hoped told Arthur both to go fuck himself and to be reasonable in the same eyebrow lift.

"He's my son," Arthur protested. “I have it in hand,”

"Arthur," Rhys squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Just let me look, hm?"

----

I haven't written as much of it because Jack is a bit sparky around the old man from a fairly young age but he knows the old fart loves him, I promise.

[2brothersdistillers]

Whiskey Gifts: Finding the Perfect Bottle for Every Occasion

Whiskey, with its rich history, distinct flavors, and timeless appeal, makes an ideal gift for every occasion. A thoughtfully picked bottle of whiskey may speak words, whether it's for a birthday, a wedding anniversary, a promotion, or simply a show of appreciation. However, with so many alternatives available, choosing the ideal whiskey gift can be difficult.

Know your recipient

The first step in choosing the ideal whiskey gift is to learn the recipient's preferences and inclinations. Are they an experienced whiskey enthusiast who values complexity and depth? Or are they fresh to the world of whiskey and want to try different kinds and flavors? Consider their preferred whiskey styles: smoky Islay scotches, silky bourbons, or complex Irish whiskeys. Knowing their tastes will help you choose the perfect bottle.

Consider the occasion

The occasion has a big impact on the sort of whiskey gift chosen. Premium bottles with age declarations or limited-edition releases are ideal for milestone occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. These unique bottles offer a touch of elegance and uniqueness to the occasion. For more relaxed parties or as a gesture of thanks, choose accessible and adaptable whiskeys that fit a wide range of tastes.

Explore variety

Whiskey comes in a multitude of types, each with its distinct attributes and flavor profiles. Scotch whiskey has a wide spectrum of flavors, from the smokey strength of Islay malts to the honeyed sweetness of Speyside whiskies. Bourbon whiskey, with its rich caramel aromas and silky finish, is another popular option. Explore the world of Irish whiskey, which is famed for its smoothness and complexity, as well as Japanese whisky, which is renowned for its artistry and precision.

Consider special editions

Special edition or limited-release whiskeys may make excellent presents, highlighting distinct taste characteristics and workmanship. Look for bottles commemorating major milestones or cooperation between distilleries. These bottles frequently come in wonderfully designed packaging, making them visually appealing presents that will wow.

Personalize the gift

Adding a personal touch to your whiskey gift might transform it from ordinary to amazing. Consider engraving the bottle with a personal message or the recipient's name to make the present truly unforgettable. For a more full whiskey experience, couple it with matching accessories like whiskey glasses, a decanter, or a tasting diary.

Budget considerations

Whiskey is available at several pricing points, allowing you to pick the right bottle within your budget. While premium and uncommon bottles might be more expensive, many cheap alternatives provide great quality and flavor. Set a budget for your present and look into possibilities within that range, ensuring that you locate a bottle that suits both your budgetary needs and the recipient's tastes.

Seek expert advice

If you're unclear about which whiskey to pick, don't be afraid to ask for assistance from competent people. Visit specialist liquor stores with skilled personnel who can provide recommendations depending on your needs. Attend whiskey tastings or events to try different types and learn more about the intricacies of whiskey enjoyment. Online resources, such as whiskey review websites and forums, can provide useful information and recommendations.

Plan ahead

Finding the ideal whiskey gift requires time and effort, so prepare ahead of time to give yourself enough time to study your alternatives and make your decision. Consider ordering the bottle ahead of time, especially if it is a special edition or limited-release whiskey that is likely to be in great demand. This relieves last-minute worry and guarantees that your present arrives on time for the event.

Choosing the best whiskey gift needs careful consideration of the recipient's interests, the occasion, and your budget. By looking into several possibilities, customizing the present, and getting professional guidance when necessary, you may locate a bottle of whiskey that will please and impress. Whether it's a rare single malt Scotch, a small-batch bourbon, or an exquisite Japanese whisky, a carefully chosen bottle of whiskey is a present that will be treasured and savored for years to come.

If you are looking for a distillery near me, or 2 Brothers bourbon, James Two Brothers Distillery is the best option. They offer small boutique-style production of beverage-grade spirit alcohol with simple principles; hard work and honesty. Contact them by writing to paulj@2brothersdistillers.com or call at 352-291-0585.

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The Gin market

Aldi's £14.99 'delicious' gin has been ranked one of the best in the world

Available in Aldi stores across the country, the ginger rhubarb gin outperformed drinks from M&S and Waitrose…. A budget gin from Aldi has been officially ranked among the best in the world.

'Haysmith's Rhubarb & Ginger Gin', priced at £14.99, secured the title at the International Wine & Spirits Competition.

Aldi's spirit beat out competition from premium brands, including Edinburgh Gin, as well as supermarkets like M&S and Waitrose. The tasty rhubarb ginger gin earned top marks in the contest.

At less than £15, the Aldi bottle beat out Edinburgh Gin's Rhubarb & Ginger flavour, which costs around double the price of the supermarket version. It's available to click and collect online, or you can buy a bottle at Aldi stores across the country. The budget retailer garnered a total of 17 awards in the competition, including a gold medal for its Glen Marnoch Limited Edition Highland Single Malt Scotch Whiskey (£17.49, 75cl).

Aldi's Rhubarb & Ginger Gin received high praise from the judges, one of whom described it as: "Excellently well balanced with full, rich flavors of luscious rhubarb, fiery ginger and chaste juniper."

The fruity spirit is just the ticket for the warmer months - just add tonic and a slice of orange 🍊 From ALDI £14.99

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£19.99

Sam’s current direct competitors are lower prices and better gin products in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 The UK remains the home of gin, producing 1722 different gins. The Wild Scottish Gin market is in the United States, but in the United Kingdom, his gin will be one more in the market.

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I was frustrated cause i. Wouldn't get drunk anymore stopped drinking for a like a moth got myself a bottle of soju a bottle of Whiskey and 1L of beer

Is my grocery budget for this month absolutely whrrked? Yes but you know what I don't care I missed this feeling so much i just couldn't admit it to myself

Best dsituon of my life idk why I every fthoght drinking was a problem i feel so much happier more myself and so much more comfortable in my bothdy no thoughts racing 100 an hour just good ole spinnies a light body heavy head and a warm chest what more could you want in this life

A+ I'm so fucking happy rn i should be like this all the time actually this is great thank you soju thank you whiskey i love you

Highlight of the month yes

I love life idk why I keep thinking about killing myself all the time

Tbh I don't even life the taste of booze i just love feeling drunk life is good rn

Might throw up soon tho lol but honestly who cares