#salinas challenger

[stateofsport211]

Salinas Ch F: Illya Marchenko def. Matija Pecotic [Q] 6-4, 6-4 Match Stats

📸 ATP Challenger Livestream (via website)

Marchenko thrived during the crucial moments, which was another important key of the match. Not only it allowed him to redirect Pecotic from the way he handled the rallies, where he converted 30% of his chances from (10 opportunities), but it also did not give a room for Pecotic to convert any of his other chances bar the one break-back in the first set thanks to his point construction.

Speaking of not giving Pecotic a room to properly respond, it also reflected through Marchenko's service games. Scoring one more ace than Pecotic, Marchenko won 8% more points from his first serves, which carried a lot of moments when he had to face several break points, but he also overwhelmed Pecotic's second serves until the latter only had a 48% winning percentage even if Marchenko double-faulted thrice as a result of taking numerous risks, but he got his rewards at the end.

This title marked Marchenko's return to the Top 300, landing to 253 per the current state of the live rankings, apart from winning his first Challenger title since the Biella Challenger 1 2021 and his ninth career Challenger title. On the other hand, Pecotic still had a positive return to the Top 500 by landing at 435 per the current state of the live rankings. Totally a great week to return for them both, rolling back the time machine.

[artificialqueens]

Untouchable for Life, Chapter 1 (Anetra x Sasha Colby) - Writworm42

Admin Note: I'm so worry, Writ!! You should have been in the last queue, and I'm also sorry that it's taken me a million years to fix it after you told me. I have no excuse, I just completely forgot and I apologize deeply! -V

A/N: Summary: Anetra should be grateful for his new job as a photographer for the city's biggest queer tabloid. Especially considering how hard he fucked up before landing there. But it's all lost on him until he's roped into a special assignment, one that ties Sasha Colby into his life. But can the knots that bind him to his past be undone? Or will the cord he and Sasha walk on snap?

Sorry not sorry for all the puns in the summary fhdsjfk but I promise chapter summaries will have more specific to the chapters themselves and the story as a whole!!!

Anyways, remember how I said I'd never write another multichap bc they're too much stress? WELP! Thank you nickysjaida for encouraging me and athena for beta-ing, you're both so wonderful <3

Fic title from I Turn My Camera On by Spoon

Anetra sighs, dropping his head into his hands as his thoughts race. His boss watches in front of him intensely, almost to the point of scrutiny, but what can he do?

He doesn’t exactly have options here.

“I just don’t get why—“

“The board wanted you gone,” Michele shuts him down immediately. “Hell, they wanted your head on a platter! This is the best I can do for you. You either take it, or you go collect your things.”

“But I wouldn’t even get to write!” Anetra huffs. “Not even captions or anything!”

“I know,” Michele says coolly. “Why do you think I was able to negotiate this? You’re too good to lose, Anetra, but I guarantee if you walk, it’ll be the last time you ever work in journalism, photo or otherwise.” 

Anetra groans. Michele is absolutely right—he fucked up, and fucked up big. Lose his credibility big. Sue the whole company big.

But does that really mean he has to go to Q-Beat ? He’ll be a laughingstock in the journalistic community— Q-Beat may be the most popular queer magazine in the country, but it’s barely above a tabloid. Hell, maybe it’s worse—they’re probably the only print mag he can think of that has more listicles in one issue than actual pieces, and the product placements are so obvious they might as well just say Absolut wrote the news updates. 

There’s a reason the whole industry calls it Q-Bait as a joke. 

But with the scandal he’s in, he can’t afford to negotiate now. If he wants to do anything other than Walmart Christmas portraits for the rest of his life, he has no choice but to take this job.

"Fine," he finally sighs, grabbing the contract and pulling it closer. "Give me a pen."

--

The Charles Media building is often referred to as a marvel of architecture in the city, and the reputation isn’t unearned. Standing under its sloped, pink-painted roof are twenty-five floors of different print outlets, each an empire in its own right. Anetra has to admit, it’s kind of impressive--from magazines to books, encyclopedias to graphic novels, if you can flip or scroll through it, you can find it nestled among the offices in the tower.

Perhaps most impressive, though, is the way the architects were clearly so committed to the bit when they designed the place. From floors one to twelve, everything is wide, spacious, and decorated in black and silver. The floors narrow slightly after that, and from thirteen all the way to its sloped roof, the building’s colour scheme is a deep magenta, with sparkle and hints of blush. And that’s just the outside--within the walls of 96 Tucker Avenue, things are even more colourful, bringing the entire aesthetic full circle.

The perfect shade of lipstick for the perfect media queendom, both inside and out.

At least, that’s the vision the company projects. Right now, Anetra feels anything but perfect—and from the way his coworkers avoid him in the elevator, he’s pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

At least Q-Beat is near the top floor. Once the last few people filter out around the sixteenth floor, he has the elevator car all to himself, leaving him alone to try and collect his thoughts. 

From what Anetra knows, the farther up the tower you go, the more isolated the group, meaning there’s a chance that no one at Q-Beat knows who he is or what he’s done. A perfectly fresh start. Good; his talent will speak for itself that way, and he can make friends based on that. If he even wants to--maybe friends aren’t such a good idea. The main condition of being able to keep this job was to lay low, after all. 

Plus, the longer he tends to stay in one place, the less people seem to want him around. Especially now that he’s a liability. 

It’s a thought that hurts, and he’s glad to be able to swallow it as the elevator comes to a stop at the twenty-third floor.

The sight that awaits Anetra as the elevator doors glide open makes his jaw drop. 

Back on the eighth floor where Anetra’s old magazine was located, everything had been all business all the time. The walls and the floor were a stern black, with tiles that clicked under your feet as you walked. There had been almost no decor in the entrance either, other than a pair of leather chairs under a harsh silver sign directing visitors to various offices tucked behind heavy mahogany doors.

But on the twenty-third floor? 

Anetra can’t help but feel like he might as well be on an alien planet. He had expected pink, had expected some sparkle and embellishment. But he had had no idea just how much of a culture shock it would be. It’s such a contrast, he barely knows where to start—though maybe the entrance is as good a place as any. The floor’s lobby is fully furnished with tables and chairs and even some floral arrangements, separated from the action by only a glass door and floor-to-ceiling windows that allow a clear view of the Q-Beat workspace behind it. The floors are plush zebra-print carpet, the walls an almost violent pink lit up by a fluorescent sign welcoming visitors to Q-Beat with cursive font. And when Anetra peers into the office space, he sees not a maze of cubicles, but an open floor plan that’s bustling with people in casual dress.

In other words, friendly coworkers and lax norms without anywhere to hide from either. 

Fuck. 

“Are you Anetra?” 

Anetra snaps to attention and sees a tall blonde standing in the office’s doorway looking at him with anxious eyes. 

"Oh, um… Yes?" He frowns. He was supposed to meet the editor-in-chief first, but this woman is in jeans and a tank top that shows off well-defined muscles and big tattoos, her hair fluffed up in an almost rockabilly style--definitely not like any chief Anetra has seen before.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" The woman's eyes narrow. "Because I have a meeting in fifteen minutes and only ten before my Ativan hits, so I really need to get a move on orienting you if you are."

Anetra decides right then and there that no matter who this woman is, he definitely likes her.

“I’m Anetra,” he tries again, stepping forward and extending a hand for the woman to take. 

“Loosey LaDuca, she/her pronouns, editor-in-chief,” she shakes his hand firmly. But before he can drop his hand away, she grips it harder, pulls him forward through the glass doors and into the office. 

“Let me introduce you to the others, they’re really excited to meet you.”

Crap.

—

Loosey’s tour of the Q-Beat workspace is a whirlwind, so fast that Anetra almost wishes he’d brought a notebook with him. Though that probably wouldn’t have done much to help him either; Loosey doesn’t even stop to breathe as she charges through the office with Anetra in tow, so he seriously doubts she would have let him slow down to write. At least he avoids seeing too much of the team this way; Loosey’s version of ‘introducing’ is more like drive-by name-dropping, and Anetra is perfectly content to settle for the waves he and his new coworkers exchange as he passes. 

Good things can’t last forever, though, and sure enough, Loosey’s tour comes to a hard stop right in front of a large table surrounded by people who immediately turn all their focus on Anetra. 

“This right here is our photography department. Well, two of them are,” Loosey rolls her eyes. “The rest of you, get back to work please?” 

“Hey, they were working!” a short woman with hair almost as big as Loosey’s protests. “Half of them were reviewing the photos that are going to go with their article.”

“Uh-huh, and the other half?” Loosey retorts. 

“Is this Poppy’s replacement?” The other woman left at the table pipes up quickly, a smooth change of subject accompanied by an even smoother smile. 

“Oh, yes,” Loosey says, her eyebrows raising in surprise as if she’d forgotten Anetra was beside her. “Anetra, this is Mistress--” she points to the smaller woman, who nods curtly, “--And this is Salina. Ladies, Anetra is coming to us from News Summary Weekly , so things might work a little differently here than he’s used to. So be nice, Mistress.”

“Hey!” Mistress huffs when Loosey shoots her an extra-pointed look. 

“You know I’m right,” Loosey rolls her eyes. “Now, will you guys take over from here? These pills are not doing what they’re supposed to, so I’m gonna go take a three-minute power nap before I have to talk budget for the rest of the afternoon.” 

“Sweet dreams!” Salina calls after her, cackling when Loosey shoots her the middle finger over her shoulder in response. 

Just like that, their attention is turned back on Anetra, giving him the distinct feeling of having been thrown to the wolves. 

“So you’re from the political phonebook, huh?” Mistress starts in right away, her lip twitching as she looks Anetra up and down. “You’re certainly dressed like it.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Salina adds pensively, “Ain’t that the magazine with the guy who--”

“Sorry, what are your guys’ pronouns?” Anetra cuts in fast before Salina can finish that sentence, hoping to God the heat he feels rising in his cheeks isn’t visible to the two women before him. “I use he/him.”

“She/her for both of us,” Mistress answers with narrow eyes, her tone of voice skeptical. Anetra’s going to have to look out for her, he can tell. But at least Salina seems distracted enough—her attention is already back on her computer, which she wastes no time in sliding over to Anetra.

“Alright, newbie, come here and sit down, let me show you all the different softwares and shit we use in this department.” 

It’s a close call, but he’ll take it. He smiles gratefully as he moves over beside Salina, leaning in close to get to work.

Pride Challenge Points: 2806

[tomorrowusa]

A school in Ron DeSantis's Florida (where else?) banned a poem written by an African-American poet for President Joe Biden's inauguration in 2021.

Amanda Gorman, the American poet who shot to international stardom when she recited The Hill We Climb at Joe Biden’s presidential inauguration, has vowed to defeat book bans in Florida after the poem was removed for reading by elementary school children in an educational institution in Miami-Dade county.

Gorman, 25, said she was “gutted” to learn that a complaint from a single parent led to her inaugural poem being banned from Bob Graham education center in Miami Lakes.

The poem was one of five books challenged by a parent of children at the school, including The ABCs of Black History and books on Cuba.

In the complaint, the parent mistakenly listed Oprah Winfrey as the author of The Hill We Climb, and said she objected to the poem because it was “not educational and have indirectly hate messages”.

Gorman hit back in a lengthy social media post.

Florida has become the book-banning capital of the US. The leaders of totalitarian countries like Iran, Russia, and North Korea are probably jealous.

Book bans have surged in Florida in the wake of a series of laws signed by the Republican governor, Ron DeSantis, who is poised to launch a presidential campaign. The most recent legislation, enacted earlier this month, requires schools to remove books immediately based on a complaint from a single parent.

According to PEN America, 565 books were banned in Florida schools in the 2021-22 school year.

On the subject of book censorship, the Washington Post reports that a majority of the challenges to books across the United States came from just 11 people. They apparently are ideologically driven book trolls who do little else.

Objection to sexual, LGBTQ content propels spike in book challenges An analysis of book challenges from across the nation shows the majority were filed by just 11 people

[archived link]

Ron DeSantis has explicitly said that he would like to do to the United States what he's done to Florida. Any complacency about the 2024 election needs to vanish.

The ONLY way to defeat book-banning, abortion-restricting, homophobic, pro-Russia Republicans is to vote Democratic.

DeSantis will begin his campaign with roughly $200 million in his war chest. Quibbling over minor policy differences or grumbling that a candidate is not 1,000% perfect is not an option for moderates or progressives who love democracy.

The GOP has been taken over by extremists and we need to take them at their word that they wish to take America back to the 17th century.

[mothertucker2001]

Treecember Day 3

[jobean12-blog]

This was such an engaging read! You got everyone so well and I adore Steve! Just loved it! Yay🥰❤️

Kiss Me Good

This was written for @sgtjbuccky’s End of Year Writing Challenge.

This is my first time writing Marvel, so I hope I did it justice!

Prompt: “I don’t know what to say. I’ve always been really bad at goodbyes.”  “Yeah. Me too.” (Prompt bolded in text below.)

Characters: Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Pepper Potts (Mrs. Stark), Natasha Romanov, Erika (OFC), Wanda Maximoff, Mention of Hulk/Bruce Banner   ::   Word Count: 5295

Pairings: Steve Rogers x f!Reader

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Injuries

Note: PLEASE do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works (and claim as your own) on any other platform WITHOUT MY EXPRESS PERMISSION AND CONSENT.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

“Got any new year’s resolutions?”

“Can’t say that I do, Tony.”

“Such a bore, Captain.” Steve sighs at Tony. He really should have known better than to stop by the kitchen on his way to the gym. He removes the lid from the jar containing the rest of the smoothie he’d made before his run, and hoping to avoid the New Years Eve party discussion, swallows down what’s left. But Tony just stares at him expectantly, popping a few chocolate covered blueberries into his mouth with a knowing smile as he makes himself comfortable leaning against the kitchen island.

“Don’t die?”

Keep reading

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 1 - Rules Were Meant for Breaking (Taking Chances)

Summary: You meet a mysterious man on your flight. When a long travel day turns even longer, you find yourself breaking all of your personal rules as you get to know the stranger.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (no real romance happens in this one, though I am actually considering making this into a series so there may be more to come!)

Word Count: ~3k

Warnings: Slight language

A/N: This was meant to be Day 13 of the #flufftober (@flufftober) challenge. I had to travel for work this week, so it's late. Oops! The prompt was: Wrong (...). I hope you enjoy!

This day had felt like it would never end, but you knew it had only really started as you planned to head into the office for a handful of meetings. You boarded your flight from Atlanta, Georgia to Salina, Kansas. Flying Southwest, you had landed an aisle seat as you ensured you checked-in exactly twenty-four hours beforehand. 

A tall, built man eyed the aisle seat on the row next to you. He lifted his duffel bag to the overhead luggage bin and plopped his backpack on the floor under the seat in front of him. You could tell he wasn’t a frequent flier, as he sat and quickly buckled his seat belt. You smiled to yourself, but popped your earpods in your ears and listened to the audiobook start to play. 

Out of your peripheral vision, you eyed the man carefully. You’d be lying to yourself if you thought he wasn’t attractive. But you knew better than that. The career you had started years ago had become something important to you, and while the work was hard and the days were long—you were proud of your accomplishments and independence. There wasn’t any room for an attractive man in your life. But you couldn’t argue with the fact that he was nice to look at. 

The plane took off without incident, but you couldn’t help but notice how the passenger to your right gripped his arm rests as you moved through the bumps one would during take off. 

Everything changed, though, as you approached Kansas City. The ding of the intercom system throughout the plane sounded over the words of your audiobook, and you reached up to pause your earbud. 

“Good afternoon, folks, this is your captain speaking,” the man’s voice sounded. “Unfortunately we have some inclement weather in Salina and we’ve been told by the Air Traffic Controller that we can’t land right now. We are going into a holding pattern. I’ll update you as soon as I know more.”

There were a few grumbles and groans amongst the passengers, but this wasn’t anything too new for you. The man in the aisle seat next to you caught your attention. 

“Great,” he groaned and closed his eyes. You were drawn to the way his jaw muscle tightened as he clenched his teeth. 

“I hate when they have us go into a holding pattern,” you offered him a sympathetic smile. His green eyes popped open as he looked back at you. 

“Is this a thing? Does this happen a lot?” His questions confirmed your earlier suspicions–he wasn’t used to flying.

You shrugged with a small nod. “Eh, sometimes. I’ve noticed it happens a lot in Kansas with the tornadoes and all,” you explained. “Usually we’ll circle for a bit and then get the clearance to land.”

He nodded as he processed your words. “Here’s hopin’ that clearance comes ASAP. I just wanna get off this damn plane.” You nodded in agreement. As you circled, you closed your eyes a bit, in hopes that you’d soon start to feel the plane begin to descend and the landing gear move into place.

But that didn’t happen. After forty-five minutes, the ding sounded from the intercom once more.

“What now?” The man grumbled as you peeled your ears to listen over the hum of the engines.

“Sorry folks, we are being told that we are not going to be able to land for the foreseeable future. We have decided to head back to Atlanta where we will re-fuel and get a new crew assigned. We will have to wait to hear from ATC on when we can return to Salina.” The groans and grumbles from everyone aboard the flight were audible now. You closed your eyes in annoyance, but when you opened them, you felt bad for the man next to you. He seemed visibly upset as he ran his palms against his jean-clad thighs. He leaned forward a bit to try to catch a glimpse out of the window down his row, and his left foot bobbed up and down as he tapped it against the floor of the plane.

You leaned towards him across the aisle a bit. “Sorry, I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”

His head turned back towards you. “Yeah,” he breathed. While he still seemed nervous, you could tell he was trying to hide it. “This ever happen to you before?”

“Once,” you nodded. “The airline took good care of us, though. Usually, they offer up free booze as a consolation prize.” You said with a smile.

His eyebrows raised as he processed what you had said. “Hm, now that’s something I could get on board with.” You chuckled softly with a nod.

You put your hand out and offered him your name.

“Dean,” he smiled back at you and took your palm. His hands were as large as they looked, and you felt like his grip almost swallowed yours. 

“Nice to meet you, Dean,” you managed to practically squeak out and hoped he hadn’t heard how unsure of yourself you were over the roar of the engines. 

Over the course of the two hours it took to get back to Atlanta, you and Dean busied yourselves with conversation—you learned he had a younger brother and the two of them had taken on the family business (though you weren’t really certain what the family business was, exactly. Dean hadn’t gone into great detail, but something about extermination?). The brothers lived in Kansas, born and raised–but they traveled a lot by car. He shared that he would rather spend twenty-four hours driving than get on a plane, but he had an urgent matter to attend to in Atlanta and driving just wasn’t an option. He didn’t speak about his parents, and you chose not to pry. But he was funny, and quick-witted. Two things that only added to his physical attraction. 

“Flight attendants, prepare for landing,” the pilot’s voice spoke over the intercom once more. 

You were glad that Dean seemed a little more relaxed during landing, given the circumstances. But you also wondered if he had put up a mask for your sake, to not seem nervous or afraid. 

Once the plane touched down and taxied to the gate you had departed almost six hours prior, the flight attendant came over the intercom. “Alright folks, we know it’s going to be at least an hour before we can give you additional updates. You’re free to get off of the aircraft, but please stay in the terminal. We will call you back to the gate once we know more over the PA system.” 

Passengers started to stand and gather any personal items they wanted to take with them. Your eyes traveled to Dean, and you realized he was watching you. 

“Wanna grab some food and a drink?” He asked, almost cautiously. 

No harm in that, the thought rang through your brain. “Sure,” you nodded, with the simpler answer. Dean held out his hand in a gesture for you to lead the way. 

As you exited the aircraft onto the jet bridge that led the way from the plane to the gate, Dean struck up conversation again. “You know this airport better than me. Any ideas on where we could go?” 

“Hmm,” you hummed as you processed what was in this terminal. “Atlanta doesn’t have a lot, but I know there’s a Longhorn Steakhouse in this terminal.” You suggested. A quick glance to his face confirmed that it sounded good to him. 

“Steak and beer? My kinda place,” he smiled. His smile sent a shiver down your spine. While you held tight to the fact that dating wasn’t in the cards for you–especially with some stranger from Kansas who you would have otherwise never met–you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy that you would get to spend a little more time with the handsome, mysterious passenger from your flight.

“Let’s do it,” you grinned as you walked dangerously close. For every stride he took, you felt like you had to take two in order to keep up. 

It was a short walk to the restaurant, and thankfully there weren’t a ton of people, so you were able to find a quiet table towards the back. It was a small half-booth, so you and Dean sat on the same bench with a table top just in front of you.

“Welcome to Longhorn,” the waitress beamed as she placed two drink napkins down in front of you both. “My name’s Casey, can I start y’all off with any drinks or an appetizer?” She asked as she produced a notepad from her front apron.

“I’ll have a glass of cabernet and water,” you smiled at her as you looked over the menu. “No appetizers for me.”

“Coors for me, if you have it,” Dean’s eyes wandered the menu. Casey nodded. “No apps for me, we’ll just take a minute to look over the menu.”

“Sure thing, I’ll get those drinks right over,” Casey headed back for the bar.

You didn’t realize you were staring at him until Dean’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyelids fluttered slightly as he read over the menu. The lighting in the steakhouse was dim, but the hanging pendant over the table cast a yellowish glow across his features. You hadn’t noticed his freckles before, but swore you could have counted them under the glow.

“So,” Dean’s gruff voice interrupted your thoughts and you hurriedly looked away in an attempt to not get caught staring. “What are you getting? The porterhouse is calling my name.” 

“Oh, uh, you already decided?” How long was I staring? Your thoughts ran together as you quickly tried to look over the menu.

“Steak is easy, sweetheart,” he chuckled softly as he glanced back down at the menu. He almost cut himself off as he realized sweetheart had just rolled off of his tongue. It almost looked like he wanted  to apologize for it, or take it back–but when he saw you hadn’t flinched, he let it hang in the air. You surprised yourself by liking it…

“Hmm,” you murmured as your eyes grazed the menu. “Probably the sirloin, with loaded mashed potatoes and a mixed green salad.” You said with certainty as you closed your menu and placed it at the end of the table.

“Alright, I see you with the loaded mashed potatoes, but you can keep your rabbit food,” he put his menu on top of yours.

A laugh rumbled in your chest. “Okay, food connoisseur,” you rolled your eyes. You surprised yourself again when you gave his shoulder a playful shove. “What are your two sides?”

“Loaded mashed potatoes,” he agreed with you with a firm nod. “And the steakhouse mac and cheese.” 

“Two carbs, love it,” you teased slightly with a wink. 

“Listen, carbs have never done me wrong,” Dean teased back. “The way I see it, life is short. Eat the damn potatoes.” 

“I feel like that should be on a bumper sticker,” you mused as Casey returned with your drinks. 

“Y’all ready to order?” She asked with a smile. 

You started your order as you had relayed to Dean, but paused when it came time for your second side. You hesitated for a moment before you glanced at him. His eyebrows were raised, as if he were egging you on. 

“Ah, screw it,” you mumbled. “Loaded potatoes and the mac and cheese, please.” 

“Atta girl,” Dean seemed pleased. For the first time in a very long time, you had gone against the grain. You had always followed a subset of rules for yourself—as silly as it may sound, that even applied to food. Protein, carb, vegetable. Always. But something was different; Dean was different. 

After Dean ordered, Casey headed back to send your selections off to the kitchen. 

“I’ve never done that before,” you almost sounded giddy, but you couldn’t help it. 

Dean seemed perplexed. “…ordered food?” He asked, unsure of what you meant. 

“No!” You laughed as you took a sip of your water. “Ordered two carbs? I know it probably sounds so stupid…” you nibbled at the inside of your lip as you tried to process what you were trying to say. “I’ve always just had these rules for myself.” You took a breath as you tried to think of an example. “Okay, like: wait thirty minutes after you eat before you swim. Or don’t have sex on the first date.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. But they had already landed and Dean choked on the water he had just sipped from his glass. 

“Jesus,” he laughed. 

“Sorry, that was awkward,” you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “The point is…I’ve just always followed rules. They’re ingrained in me, I guess.”

“Darlin’,” Dean started slowly. “In my world, rules have always been meant to be broken.” 

You weren’t sure what he intended with that statement, but it made your breath hitch in your throat. Against your better judgment (or rules, rather), you raised your glass of wine towards him. 

“I’ll drink to that,” you said softly. His eyes held your gaze carefully in his before he reached for his beer and clinked it against yours. 

“To breaking the rules,” he said gently. 

“To breaking the rules,” you repeated before you both took a sip. 

“Okay, okay,” you laughed at something your newfound friend had said in this silly game you had created as you ate your meals. “Would you rather…be stuck in a ring with a pissed off bull, or travel by plane?”

“Seriously?” He managed a smile. “I can’t believe you haven’t figured this out yet, but sweetheart, it’s always gonna be anything but traveling by plane.”

“Burning building or plane?” You contemplated exasperatedly. 

“Light my ass on fire, still not the plane,” he took another swig of his second beer. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled. “You really don’t like flying, huh?” As if on cue, you heard the call for the passengers on your plane to return to the gate. You had already settled the bill, but you each pulled out cash for the tip.

“Guess I gotta face my fears at some point,” Dean grumbled as you headed out of the restaurant. 

“Aw, it’s okay,” you felt more comfortable giving him a little grief as you patronized. “I can hold your hand if you’d like.” You winked. 

He stared back at you with a confident smile etched across his lips. “That a promise, darlin’?” 

Your brain told you it was wrong, but your body chose to ignore it as you managed a nod. Dean smiled. 

As you approached the gate agent, you heard bits and pieces of conversations that didn’t sound too promising. Once you and Dean were next in line, the agent offered a sympathetic smile. 

“Unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to get you to Salina tonight. We have an extra flight added first thing tomorrow morning, and Southwest will put you in a hotel near the airport for tonight. You can go ahead and show your boarding pass to retrieve your bags. Did either of you have anything checked?” She asked. You and Dean both shook your heads ‘no’. “Great, here are your hotel vouchers. There’s a shuttle that runs from the airport. And I’ll reprint your boarding passes for the flight out tomorrow.”

“Looks like we live another day,” Dean joked as you walked the jet bridge once more to get your carry-on bags. You rolled your eyes, but smiled. 

“My boss is gonna be so pissed,” you mumbled. “I had a huge presentation today and so much work I had promised to get done. I have a personal rule that I don’t break work promises. Ever.” 

“Look at you, little rule breaker,” Dean playfully nudged your shoulder. His words caused you to smile once more. 

“You’re rubbing off on me,” you teased back. 

Once you had gathered the items you had left on the plane, you and Dean headed back into the terminal and towards the shuttle pick up. 

You typed out a note to your boss, keeping him in the loop of your travel plan changes. Then there were a few emails, and you forwarded your presentation material to your colleague who would need to cover on your behalf. In no time, you were on the shuttle headed to the hotel. 

Dean seemed much more relaxed, but also seemed to be lost in thought a bit. “You okay?” You asked as you finally glanced up from the iPhone in your hands. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” he answered quickly. He eyed you for a moment just as the shuttle pulled up to the hotel. “Uh, you wanna hang out? We could watch a movie or grab some drinks at the bar?” You couldn’t quite place it, but he seemed nervous to ask. 

“Dean…” you started slowly. “I just think…” your words failed you as you tried to explain—your priorities were a lot different than other women your age. 

“Hey, I get it,” he shook his head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, alright?”

“It’s just the wrong place—” he cut you off before you could finish. 

“Wrong place, wrong time,” he smiled kindly at you. “I understand, and it’s okay.” He shrugged the strap to his duffel bag over his shoulder. “It was really nice meeting you, sweetheart. Truly. Thanks for keeping my brain busy so I didn’t worry about flying.” He smirked. 

He started to walk towards the reception desk inside the lobby. You stood for a moment and bit at the inside of your lip again. Just as before, your brain told you to stop before you could process it. 

“Dean, wait!” You called after him. Your feet carried you quickly in his direction as he began to turn around. “Rules were meant for breaking, right?” You breathed as you saw the glimmer in his eyes. He smiled with a nod. 

“Alright, then,” he beamed as he held his hand out for you to walk in first. “What’ll it be, bar or a movie? Pick your poison.” 

The heat rose in your cheeks as you pushed out every fear that had ever consumed you of following some plan or holding tight to some stupid rule. “Who said we have to choose? Why not both?” 

He chuckled. “Atta girl.” 

The feelings that bubbled in your chest left you feeling breathless, and you felt excited for the first time in a very long time.

Read Chapter 2 - Nothing to Lose Here!

Thank you so much for reading! So, while my travel experience this week wasn't this bad, I did end up having to return to my original destination due to weather and spent 15+ hours traveling on Thursday when it should have only taken me ~6ish. Lol. Not thrilled. Unfortunately, Dean Winchester wasn't on my flight, BUT that experience inspired this story!

I really love the dynamic between Dean and the reader in this one, and I feel like the story isn't finished. Possibly more to come? Let me know if you'd like to see more from these two!

Tag List:

@jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma

Want to be on my Tag List? Fill out this form!

[hwaightme]

Avaritia

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR CAPTAIN'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

⚫ pairing: ceo/sugar daddy!hongjoong x assistant/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut... just smut really ⚫ summary: everything has a price, but sugar makes this truth so much sweeter. no matter what he says, hongjoong will buy that new purse for you, will flaunt you in front of his business partners, and will make sure you know you are his. ⚫ wordcount: 8.3k ⚫ warnings/tags: MINORS DNI, tried to edit - lost it - bon appetit, language, teasing, on a flight, a lot of money, wealth, first world, brand name dropping harder than San in the logs, hj is a sweetheart, mc is needy but in denial, full avarice mode lmk if anything else, nsfw tags and playlist rec under the cut ⚫ taglist: @doom-fics @layzfeelit @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo ⚫ network tags: @k-labels @ateezlovenet @kflixnet ⚫ a/n: Sometimes, I am calm. Other times (read 'all the time) I am getting wrecked by everyone in ATEEZ. Here is what Balmain Joong did to me. Any comments, reblogs much loved; we spiraled into madness (hail sucrose pop, glucose father joong lol)

⚫ nsfw tags: daddy/baby girl dynamic, sugar daddy, reader is a 'doll', soft dom!hj (literally cannot stay mad at mc), overstimulation (seriously what is hj doing to mc...), fingering, mile high club, blowjob, deepthroating, dacryphilia, possessiveness, dirty talk, sex on a desk, unprotected sex (wrap that before you tap that) ⚫ playlist recs: Five Star Hotels by RAYE | Sugar Daddy by Qveen Herby | SAD GIRLZ LUV MONEY Remix by Amaarae | Greed by Shreea Kaul | Mile High by Salina Killa | Do I Move You? by Nina Simone | Money Power Glory by Lana Del Rey

Why was it that when real business was being discussed, the location of choice was always the most extravagant, exotic, luxurious oasis? Everything about the resort screamed unaffordable. 'Exclusive' written in blood on the pristine white sands, only to be washed away by azure blue waves to colour sea foam you could swear was whipped up in a divine patisserie. A perverse flavour inaccessible to the majority but driving the decisions that ruled the world. It was challenging to not become partial to the taboo indulgence when it was handed to you on a silver platter together with a tailor-made career. Anyone would need to acclimatise to what most considered a distant fantasy, but a few flights on a private jet later did wonders in curing the delirium of the average and introducing an insatiable materialism.

Thus, you were not particularly bothered when your boss requested you book another retreat to a private resort in the middle of the ocean - considering the business's cash flow and offshore 'pocket money', this was not too different from your routine trip to the cafe down the street to get his 'coffee' - more sugar than caffeine but this was a secret that you were to keep to the grave; it was written in small print on your contract. It was easy to book when you just needed to send out a few messages to staff and drop a name to any external service people at the right time. Their reaction, stuttering and need for clarification never failed to be amusing; even the most outrageous demands gained appeal once the won, euro, dollars, whatever they wanted from the global wallet, began to stack up. Green bills, green trees - in a twisted way, these boys who liked to play the role of the all-seeing and all mighty were farmers too. And fruits of their labour were always the sweetest.

Sure, you worked hard and had your own path that you could have followed. Even had a degree to prove that you had at least an ounce of dedication. But what would it give you, in fact, what did it give you before your renaissance? Crumbs. Sheer crumbs, student debt and a chronic migraine. But as it turned out, a couple hundred k did wonders when it came to personal health and wellbeing. And on top of that, the myriad of other benefits that your current lifestyle had, had the ability to crush any argument and accusation hurled in your direction, of which you had many. You had figured out soon enough that diamonds were your real best friend, while those who you had considered your ride or die evaporated as soon as they saw you wearing designer. And that had been when the best you could ask for was old collections, and widely available products. You were not lonely. You had too many hats to wear, and a very demanding man, by the name of Kim Hongjoong, to entertain. And one who currently had his eyebrows furrowed, a couple of unruly strands of hair perking up out of his otherwise slick business ‘do, glasses barely holding onto the tip of his beautifully sculpted nose, and was leafing through the papers he had asked you to prepare for the duration of the flight.

For the CEO of a global company, and the heir to an even larger network, he sure as hell was incredibly young. You did not envy his turmoil and exposure to stress one bit, almost feeling sorry and in part guilty, since percentages of his spendings were technically lost on you. There had even been instances when you found yourself sat in a dark room, laptop screen aglow and on a blank page, with you wondering how one crafted a resignation paper. But once you and Hongjoong could have even a couple of moments alone, when he would ravish you, make and call you his and reveal to you all the things he had planned that could not be reflected on his calendar, that document would be promptly deleted and recycle bin emptied. Your ‘relationship’ had been this way since the one meeting, in his main office, on a bright and early morning.

He had called you up into his office and simply told you that he had another ‘job opportunity’ for you. At that point you had been desperate, with financial problems endlessly piling up, from debt to your family’s hospital fees to bailing your estranged brother out of prison. And to make things unethical – Hongjoong had known this. He had done his research – more specifically, he had asked some colleagues in his company, ones who you would never suspect, to snoop around and find out more about you. And as it turned out, you were the perfect candidate for ‘being treated right’ by him, while bearing the title and carrying out the formal façade of secretary and personal assistant duties. In his practice, as well as his father’s and partners’, this was probably the most stable relationship they would ever get in life, so might as well be picky.

Initially, you had simply become a receiver of gifts. Pretending like this was Hongjoong’s love language, you were touched and did not think much of it. Maybe through these purchases he was moving money in ways it should not be moved, but you could not care less – not your problem, not your area of expertise, you had the outcome, and the outcome was something like a crocodile leather bag or a dress fresh off the runway. Hongjoong had insisted on picking every single item out for you, letting his controlling executive side win over. He had explained that you had to look like ‘the prettiest doll in the world’ for him, and for that he needed to check for quality. After a couple of months, however, such sugary sweet presents had been reserved for special occasions, and for the rest, money was wired directly to a new, account, a platinum card he had opened for you and given you. To just step into the consultation room with his portfolio manager and private banking consultant had felt like you were cheating existence. You had been a lowly assistant to an assistant before. And now, decked out in Dior, were sat beside one of the most influential men in the modern era of this industry, letting him hand you eye-watering sums as if it was a couple of coins for a pack of gum.

Now, well, now you were conflicted. As months had turned into a year and were now approaching the two-year mark if you could remember correctly, your ‘relationship’ had started to feel more and more like a real one. Hongjoong had caught himself divulging details of experiences that he had never spoken about with anyone before. And nowadays, when you had sex, it felt less like a mindless fuck and more like making love, with the man expressing more than he ever could with every hot touch, press of his lips to yours, even his lustful intensity had gained a new colour. You could feel that he was confused, but would not dare let go of you – you knew that he put your name down on some very important documents, after all. As such, it was a rare but unbelievable pleasure to push Hongjoong’s buttons and get him all riled up for you, just so he could expel that pressure and that tension from a busy work day out on you. You were that caring of a personal assistant. And wanted him to keep on talking. Keep on telling you his deepest darkest secrets. You wanted to be a part of him, the hedonistic side, the one that seized the day and knew how to enjoy the earthly realm without counting and fighting.

For the flight to the resort and extended series of meetings with key business partners, you had chosen to wear an outfit that you knew Hongjoong was unravelled by. It was a black and white Prada poplin mini dress that did wonders to accentuate your curves and edges, and was paired with some classic, black leather, So Kate Louboutin heels and gold accessories to match the dainty little buttons on the dress. Really, this was dress number two since the last one had been quite literally torn off you by none other than your boss, but he did not want to ruin the night and as such, had promised to contact the house of fashion itself to get an exact replica of the limited edition garment. And this man kept his promises. But right now, even though you were sat in the private office in his jet, with the bodyguards safely outside, lounging and doing whatever bodyguards did to occupy themselves, he was not paying attention to you at all. Only winding himself up more with those compiled quarterly reports that you were now regretting having finalised them and bringing them at all. What was the worst that you would have gotten had you not done the task? A spanking? Oh, how scary… you have had it rougher on a casual and uneventful day. Now you needed to get creative to get his attention, and being needy would not do. So very slowly, gazing out of the window at the clouds your were drifting past, you crossed your legs, revealing the legendary red bottoms of the heels you were wearing, and reached for the notebook and pen that were just peeking out of your handbag. Unbeknownst to you, you already had his attention with your abrupt change of pattern. Normally you would be on your phone, or typing away on your laptop, even remaining idle would be more characteristic, so Hongjoong’s interest was piqued by the little planner that contained all your thoughts and actions. He slouched back in his seat, and raised he papers a little higher, so that he could steal glances at you more discreetly.

You were paying no mind to what your boss was up to, preoccupied by the cream pages and the visualisation of the figure in front of you, but in your mind. Sometimes, when work was slow, you had taken to doodling random people around the office, as well as sketching out a variety of landscapes that took your fancy. Though the main subject was always Hongjoong. You had gotten quite good at picturing his facial features and depicting them even in a few lines, catching his micro expressions and shift in body language. There were also a couple of drawings you had done with him as a live model, though he was asleep and in the nude, so no one was ever going to know about that – you had stashed them away in a safe hidden behind the drawers of your desk. It only made sense that he was in most of your drawings: after all, he was the man who had bestowed upon you such unimaginable riches and a quality of life so drastically improved, that you had no choice but to worship him. He had made you who you were now. A shining diamond.

And this shining diamond was a little too bright for him to keep on focusing on the profit and loss analysis. After about ten minutes of frustrating silence, he dropped the papers onto the table in front of him and leaned to put his elbows on its edge. You had still not raised your eyes at him – something that you normally did nearly on instinct since you were so in tune with his gestures, which made Hongjoong inhale aggressively. His previously neutral expression had turned into a scowl as he raised an eyebrow and gave you a onceover. His precious doll was up to something.

“What are you doing?” though the question was simple, his voice was dangerously low. But you could not be threatened by a good time. You kept your eyes trained on the page as your hand moved methodically to hatching the shadows of his, as of not too long ago, brilliant blond locks, ones you adored to run your hands through whenever you had the chance. Which was a rare occurrence outside of the ‘bedroom’, but still.

“Just noting some things down, Mister Kim.” Though he had insisted that you call him Hongjoong when you two were alone, it had been a challenging transition to get used to. But at least it gave you ample opportunity for… discouraging him further. He liked for everything to run like a well-oiled machine, with his eyes reading a business strategy in anything and anyone. You had no doubt that that was how he was scrutinising you now. Equal parts assessing the attitude and doting on you.

He was a sweetheart treating his favourite toy. Talking competitive analysis and takeovers in the morning, and clinking glasses with you at an exclusive Michelin star restaurant in the evening. And to think that you were the only one, aside from his family, who got to see more than one side of him was an intriguing notion. Actually, scratch that. Certain things you were sure to be the only one taking care of. Take his nasty habit of overworking, which you had called out even if it was just you feeling bored: all work and no play made Hongjoong a dull boy, and thus, less likely to compensate for your presently aimless sitting around.

“By colouring the entire page? Not good to lie to me, you know that.” Of course. When it came to matters of business, for example, this man had ears everywhere, had infiltrated every other competitor and had become a spider in the corporate world. He would probably find out someone was cheating on their spouse sooner than the spouse themselves. When it came to you, however, he did not have your intricate neural network mapped out just yet. He could only fluff up his feathers and put on airs.

“It is only ink, Mister Kim. And surely the ink to paper ratio is not more than the balance sheet on page twenty seven.” You purposefully moved away from his interrogation, subliminally reprimanding him from stopping his concentration. The ghost of a smirk was gracing your lips, hidden by hair that had fallen to perfectly frame your delicate facial features. Hongjoong still had not corrected you on using his ‘work title’.

“I should ask you to start drawing the spreadsheets out by hand then.”

“Maybe next time, as a special treat. In the meantime, we have what we have and must settle for it.” A lot more standoffish than usual, you were brushing your boss off as you continued the sketch. He could not exactly reprimand you, however. You were right in the fact that his suggestion was nothing more than white noise.

“Settle for less, Y/N?” the question rang loudly in your ears and translated itself to a reminder to know your place fairly quickly. You could imagine Hongjoong’s raised eyebrow and playful grin. In addition to him hinting at your arrangements, he switched to calling out your first name. Promising.

There was a customary mention of money and class even when it was not the main topic of conversation. Really, it was what had brought you two together, or rather the stark difference between what you and him had, respectively. Hongjoong enjoyed having financial control over you and ended up dangling it above your head in the form of his not so subtle first-world conduct. You preferred to imagine that it was him wrapping you up in the softest, silkiest Chanel ribbon, like the one you had seen in adverts and on the packaging that, alone, could have probably provided you with enough food to last a week in your life before.

It was not that Hongjoong did not try to ‘stay humble’. Based on your observations, out of all his financial peers, company clients and members of the executive board, he was probably the least likely to boast about the figures that his numerous bank accounts contained. It was possible that when the strings of digits began to look more like a phone number, one grew more tranquil. Money spoke louder than words. But you knew how to make Hongjoong get vocal. Or so you thought.

“More is never enough.”

“Having more takes a lot of work and being on your best behaviour, Y/N.” he may not know all of your thoughts and reasoning but knew that you got extra charming when you became needy. Trying so hard to get his attention that you would invest all your efforts into it. It was only fair after how much he had invested in you.

The Tiffany & Co necklace on your neck that he traced with his gaze was nothing more than a collar, a leash tethering you to him. An Elsa Peretti piece, a golden snake which had cost Hongjoong just under thirty million Korean won, was perhaps the best way to symbolise the chokehold you were beginning to have on him. You were there in business, there in pleasure, and he was contemplating preventing you from taking holidays unless they somehow involved him. It would be easy – just block all of your cards and you would come crawling. He was greedy for your reactions. The way your lip would curl when he would put somebody back in their place during a conference or a meeting. How you enjoyed it when he praised you for completing the challenging, soul-draining tasks that never ceased to pile up – he had never failed to continue scrutinising you through the glass walls of his office as you excitedly returned to your desk, a soft smile always on your face. How you were completely at his mercy when he wanted to give you an extra special present. He loved how the jewellery he had gifted you or sponsored for you to buy rocked back and forth as he took his time to take you apart. Piece by piece. His priceless game.

Hongjoong smoothed his lapels and adjusted his cotton jacket that he had bought in the colour warm khaki, tightening the knot of the wrap belt. Smugly, he took note of how your pretty, made up lips parted. What were you imagining he was doing now? He was not going to care, at least not right away. He demonstratively picked up the reports again, flipping through the bounded pages on autopilot as, what he could only decipher to be a disappointed gasp, reached his ears. It was a relief that the paper hid his growing smirk. Mister Kim was work-mode Hongjoong, after all. What did you expect?

Ignored and rejected, so be it. You knew this interaction well enough to be able to count, down to the minute, when Hongjoong would crack, or you would crack and still come sauntering over. He liked to be needed – the main reason why he had agreed to become the heir to the corporation in the first place, more than you liked to be needy. But sometimes, you were a little too impatient for your own liking – probably a side effect of having been transferred to a silver spoon lifestyle after experiencing hardship after hardship. As such, the dynamic between you and Hongjoong was a constant battle. You could almost taste his pride as he inspected the figures you had compiled for him, a lazy hand moving to adjust the collar of his white turtleneck. Through fluttering eyelashes, you feasted on the dangerously handsome man, determining that he really did look astonishingly captivating in Balmain.

It was frustrating, this ongoing game that you two played and would not quit despite the effect that it very obviously had on all parties involved, but much like with the drugs that made the occasional special appearance in the closed VIP-only events, it was too addictive. Even now, you knew that you should not pay attention to Hongjoong, but your eyes were not obeying you in the slightest. Over the time you had come to intimately know this man, if there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that he had an aura. An enigmatic charm, a magnetism that was so subtle to anyone who you now had the ability and first world clarity of deeming 'average' was unlikely to detect. However, before you knew it, upon locking eyes with Hongjoong, listening to his dulcet tone that would turn to orchestrate the music in your mind, you began to fall hard and fast into the abyss that was his power and control, trapped and even if you wanted out, forgetting the words. Once you fell in, the only words that mattered were the ones that he deemed to be so, and they were so heavily contextual and dependent on his mood that, usually, you did not dare oppose it.

It was fascinating to you how time seemed to pass differently when there was a price associated with it. Be it Hongjoong's net worth or what he was wiring into your accounts, it did not matter. What mattered was the bills that bound you together like the lace of your lingerie, one which was growing tighter around your body by the second as you kept on openly devouring Hongjoong with each shameless gaze, the thoughts cropping up because of the ghost of a smirk that he was wearing only fanning the flame. He was illegal. In all senses. No man should have the right to have such an influence over you as he did, and yet here you were. Working the role of his personal toy, so dedicated that you were on the verge of begging for him to play with you. You needed him. As much as you hated to admit it, since you still did want to retain at least a tiny portion of independence, this man had given you more than what you could ever wish for. Riches, connections, diamonds, sex. And you could not get enough, happily driven to madness by the immense pleasure of being a capricious diva with infantile demands for all the world's sweetness. Or, as your brother had put it, perhaps out of a sick gratitude to you for helping him getting at least a part of his life back on track, before you blocked him for good, you were getting off on being a pampered, prissy sugar baby. Though you saw no issue with simply doing what you were good at, and you still completed your regular duties as a personal assistant. It was just that your 'personal' was a little different from the commonly accepted corporate average. And the business that you carried out in the after hours was not just classified – when you had been faced with the decision of whether to agree to enter such a relationship with Hongjoong or not, you had naively placed your life at stake. That was the level at which you had to operate. But the thrill that it gave you, more than justified it.

Your internal clock was ticking away like a time bomb as you grew more and more frustrated, while Hongjoong, in a manner not too far from that of a cat’s, gave a soft yawn and made himself more comfortable in his chair, spreading his legs further apart under his desk and leaning back to continue his reading. Deciding that he had enough of having to repeatedly push his glasses up, he decisively took them off, and slowly folded them together, holding one of the temple tips very lightly with his lips. In a graceful motion, Hongjoong set them down to his right, beside a couple of pens. You recalled speaking with the designer over the phone, ordering for them to be customised and getting shipped over from the US in record time, and while you were not exactly sure as to why they were so important, the key stakeholders in the company had raved about them on multiple occasions, much to your boss’s delight.

You could feel that he was well aware of your present sensations, and purposefully was not acting on them, just to see you squirm. This was only making you more fixated on getting his attention, which you tried to do by letting out another soft sigh, quickly realising that if you were to get anything out of him, you had to be more rash, and act on instinct. In other words, act out of line. Taking the moment he dived back into the report as an opportunity, you rose from the couch, and slipped out of your high heels while keeping your eyes trained on your boss. A barely noticeable twitch of the eyebrow and you were struggling to fight off a smirk, feeling every bit seductive even though it was most probably a vision of your own design. But a little confidence did not hurt.

This time, you did not make a sound as you slowly moved towards Hongjoong’s desk in a straight line, using your strength to keep your adrenaline-ruined breathing as level as physically possible, and your steps measured out as the plane rumbled beneath you. Head and body in the clouds. All because of the heavenly ruin who was paying no mind to how you rested the tips of your fingers on the edge of the desk, before lowering yourself onto your knees and dropping into a languid crawl. As you inched past his lacquered black boots, and soon found yourself right between his legs, you could see Hongjoong stiffen, but resist the urge of responding to your bold movements. This only played to your advantage, as you let your hands rest on his denim-clad thighs before snaking up to tug on his coat’s belt, loosening it until the material gave way and exposed the waistline of his jeans.

Even as you, with practiced, methodical motions, undid his jeans, he did not spare you as much as a pat on the top of your head, like he usually did when you were being his ‘good girl’. The only sign he gave of his awareness of you was the obviously hardening member that your hands purposefully grazed as you attempted to pull the denim a little further down to give you better access. When the jeans, or rather, their wearer, did not budge to allow you to take them off, you growled in annoyance and gave up trying to be gentle, instead wanting nothing more but attention, not from Mister Kim, not from your boss, but from Hongjoong. From Joongie. From your one and only daddy.

Said man was resisting every urge to yank you from under the desk and to punish you for being such a vixen, but it was clear to him that his disregard of your efforts might just be more painful – a realisation that did little to subdue his arousal. It made him acutely aware of your nimble hand finding the cut in his Armani briefs, and pulling out his erection, giving it a few pumps at the base with your fingers. The sudden caress had made him buck his hips forward, encouraging you to continue admiring his length and running your fingers up and down, not a single bit escaping your touch. He gripped the papers in his hands until they began to get crumpled at the edges, and eventually dropped them to lean back and get a view of the scene unfolding at his feet. All just to catch you as you licked your lips, revealing a thick coating of spit, moved towards his dick, and while keeping it steady with one hand, ran your wet tongue from the base to the very tip, parting with a lewd twirl over the head. Hongjoong bit back a hiss as he locked eyes with yours, half-lidded – you knew all his sensitivities, his pressure points and guilty pleasures, and that was infinitely dangerous for a man like him to share, it only made you more attractive. You had memorised him as if he was your assignment. Your most important test and duty. Never leaving your mind and driving you to insanity as you drifted from wave to wave of uncontrollable desire for him, and him alone. You were his. And you looked so pretty, a queen all made up and dressed in gorgeous rare pieces, kneeling before him and taking in his member between your soft lips. Deeper. Deeper, until he could feel your hot inner cheeks, the back of your tongue and how a rumble emanated from you as you hummed in satisfaction, the vibration forcing Hongjoong to tilt his head back and sigh.

You were greedy for Hongjoong, moving yourself at a slow pace to take in as much of him as you could, hands finding themselves clinging onto the legs of his jeans for support, and to allow you to try your best and continue devour him without his guidance. As you moved away for a couple of seconds to catch your breath, a salacious pop announcing the temporary loss of contact, you noticed a string of what you could only guess to be your saliva, mixed with his pre-cum hanging between his member and your progressively more swollen lips. Once again, you took the throbbing member in your hand and were about to resume its worship, when a strong grip of your hair, nails momentarily sinking into your scalp, alerted you and made your gaze shoot upwards. The sight made you cower, though the thrilling trepidation fuelled your yearning for the glowering man.

There was a demonic quality in how he stared down at you, every bit of the expression demeaning you and demanding your ruin. You knew you had overstepped by disobeying him and taking intimate matters into your own hands, but who could blame you when he was so breath-taking when wearing his favourite brand? When you lowered your eyes he tugged on your locks, sneering.

“Baby girl could not even wait until we landed, huh?” his dulcet tone dropped into a rough drawl as he could feel your breaths washing over the tip of his sensitive dick that was begging for you to finish what you had started.

“I couldn’t.” you purred, batting your eyelashes.

“And so, you resort to being naughty? Do you think that is the right thing to do, especially when I say that I am working, hm?” he was hooking the answers out of you, one of his eyebrows twitching in surprise as you did not respond immediately. He tightened his hold and made your head fall further back so that you were completely face to face, his member pressing against your cheek.

“It isn’t, daddy, but I couldn’t help myself. You just looked so pretty that I could not resist.”

“And I think you are being incredibly selfish, Y/N. Spinning these tales just so you can satisfy yourself.”

“No daddy, I want to make you feel good!” you insisted, a whine escaping you as you could feel your core beginning to grow warmer with the progressing conversation. Pressing your thighs tightly together, you relished at the friction, and bit your lower lip.

“Is that so?” he mused out loud, waiting for your to attempt to utter even a single word more.

“Yes Da-mmfph!” taking the chance, he pushed you right in, his member hitting the back of your throat, the impact making tears spring up. As you struggled against him, he held you in place and watched as you tried to adjust to him. Just as unexpectedly, he yanked you back, leaving your lips to kiss his tip, only to drag you down once more and thrust his hips once, twice against you until he could see the wetness in your eyes building until it was about to spill over.

“You said you wanted to make daddy feel good, yes?” he asked, lust clouding his brain as you mumbled utter nonsense, mouth pacified by the hard erection, “then do exactly as I say, baby girl.”

This was exactly what you missed. Hongjoong coaxing every unholy state out of you, sin setting you ablaze as you began to fail in registering the nuances of this demeanour, tears that were on the verge of rolling down your cheeks blurring your vision. This was how you pinched yourself for grounding, to assure that the lifestyle you had, the gifts which you had been bestowed with were all real and all yours. You did not search for forgiveness when the forbidden fruit was so damn sweet. So, you let yourself be used like an expensive escort by him, comforted by the thought that even though he could definitely afford having anyone else, he had selected you. And let you stick by him for almost two years. A true sweetheart who knew how to treat his girl right. You moaned into the pressure as the low grunts you elicited from Hongjoong let to the climbing of heat in your core. With the abuse of your throat becoming a rhythmic orchestration, you grew brave enough to improvise, and hollowed out your cheeks.

"Ah... fuck, baby girl..." the airy proclamation escaped him as your teeth just barely grazed his member, and he could feel his high building at an accelerated pace. He resisted your bobbing to catch a few seconds' break by pressing you to his hips, barely giving you a chance to breathe. But he knew you would take it. You always did.

Hongjoong's ragged breathing was sending you into overdrive, and you shut your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the lewd music. Barely audible over the jet engines, the loss of control was his primary expression of gratitude. The illusion that he was not, in certain senses, under your heel rapidly evaporated when the adrenaline shot him through the heart, and his frontal lobe shut down to give up the reins to carnal pleasure. Once the barriers disappeared, his one desire and need were clear. You. The one thing in his life that he would never be able to truly own, and as you unwounded him, he comprehended with an unprecedented lucidity. That was why, as you sensed his hold on you loosen and his orgasm inching closer than ever, and were about to give him the sweet release, Hongjoong snapped back to consciousness and nearly ripped you away from himself, your head barely missing the drawers under the desk.

With flushed cheeks and an adorable, innocent pout, you looked up at him, dribble accumulated at the corners of your mouth. He fell for this face every time. Your glistening eyes studying him as you appeared disappointed that you could not get daddy to cum, afraid that you made him mad. That you did something wrong. Oh, how far from the truth this was. Even though you had acted selfishly, and approached him on your own accord, nothing about you could be anything less than right. Right just for him. It was as if the heavens themselves had moulded you to fit him like a glove. Body and soul. And he will be a fool if he did not indulge in that every opportunity he had.

Taking both your hands in his, Hongjoong helped you up from under his desk, careful to not damage your dress - not that he cared for the price, but it was not particularly enjoyable contemplating the conversation you might have to have with dry cleaning. Or with the designers. Again. It was troublesome striking deals with strangers to keep their mouths shut. He rolled back on his chair, taking in your trembling form. Holding your legs together you were fighting your ache for stimulation, knowing full well that your panties were already ruined with your slick and were only serving as a fabric made for rubbing your sensitive clit. Every breath, every sigh from Hongjoong as he took off his jacket and carefully hanged it on the back of his chair, then fully undid his jeans and pushed down his underwear, was a reason for you to start begging. Couldn't he see how anxious for touch his little toy was? Evidently not, for Hongjoong took his sweet time with removing your dress, every button like a special prize that he wanted to cherish, while you were growing hazy as he peppered kiss after kiss with every new inch of exposed skin, crouching down to let the sensation build lower, feeding the knot in your stomach. His pecks stopped just about when he reached your navel and with a lazy smile on his face, he stood up to gaze into your soul with an unbelievable intensity. Hands running up your body, Hongjoong slid the magnificent article off you, hastily draping it over one of the chair's arm rests and not once glancing away from his favourite sight, a sultry oasis, within reach, and so beautifully hungry for him. He stopped your arms from resting on his sweater, muttering that you would mar it with your lusty filth, and rushed to take it off and throw it behind him. Then, there was no barrier for him anymore, and in one motion, his pelvis was against yours, member resting against your black lace-clad heat, and hands kneading your ass, moving closer and closer until they began to toy with the g-string the action turning to torture as he purposefully made the material dig into your pussy, enjoying how you threw your head back and bit back a groan.

"Please daddy, I need you..." you whispered as he increased the friction and proceeded to move his dick in and out between your full, closed thighs, teasing your erect nub until you writhed to seek even more proximity. This, however, earned you a sharp smack on your ass, the lack of anticipation making it sting. Hongjoong did not give you time to recover as he let the pins and needles work their magic and elevate your reception of his steady thrusts. You tried to grab onto him, the table, anything, but as soon as your fingers touched Hongjoong's chest, another hit echoed in your ears, eliciting a frustrated moan.

"You want to... make... daddy really happy and cum... right?" He panted, his nails digging into your flesh so violently that you could not help but wonder if Hongjoong was going to draw blood, but that brief musing only elevated your pleasure. “Then, you are going to be my pretty little fuck doll… understood?” there was only one right answer to the question, and you were not about to get on Hongjoong’s bad side by being a brat. You were too fazed to put up a fight, and merely mumbled a soundless:

“Yes… daddy…”

Hongjoong leaned closer to you, until his forehead was almost touching yours, and moved to wipe some of the lipstick and remnants of his precum from your lips with his thumb, while his other hand hooked the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down to reveal your wet core. You wriggled to let them fall and kicked them away with an impatient foot, earning a chuckle.

“So eager, baby girl… I almost want to forgive you for not listening to me. I just said you are to be a doll,” he peered into your eyes, his breath hot on your mouth as he ran his fingers between your folds, covering them in your slick. It was adorable how you tried your best to keep up appearances even now, even when you had signed yourself away to be what effectively was his servant. You trembled as the cool metal of the ring on his index finger hit your clit, and exhaled shallowly as he played with you, “and dolls don’t move, do they? Can you do that?”

As he asked, his fingers curled into your pussy, while a thumb traced rhythmic circles over the nub, the sensation electric, building your high. The lasciviousness flashing in your pupils as your eyes rolled back was a cry to Hongjoong’s darkness. Hands suspended in mid-air, you did not dare act out nor attempt to navigate the intimate act, submitting to your boss, your daddy. Letting him take care of you. As he sped up, watching your face contort as you battled the approaching climax, Hongjoong found you endearing, the corners of his mouth twitching as a soft, radiant smile surfaced. He could never stay cruel with you for too long. He was giving you more than you could ask for, and yet, he still wanted to give you more. Everything would not be enough.

“Oh, my baby girl, are you close?” he inquired, cooing as your breathing quickened in response to his accelerated pumps into your wetness, wild from the addictive sound it produced. “Fine, you can hold onto me, Y/N, daddy will take care of you,” you did not need to be told twice, falling into him as your orgasm was imminent, “doing so well for me, baby girl…” he whispered into your ear, kissing the lobe and pulling you into an embrace as he felt your high wash over you, your sex pulsing around him and muscles contracting uncontrollably. Brushing your hair back, petting it a couple of times before settling on having a hand rest between your shoulder blades, he praised you. But did not stop. Greed went both ways.

Your prior filters completely broken, you moaned and whined as you kept on unravelling, Hongjoong’s fingers abusing your overstimulated cunt. With his toned body, and your ass pressed against the edge of the desk serving as your only support, you draped your arms over his shoulders and wrapped yourself around his neck, rationality leaving with every tremor. As you could feel another scalding fire building in your abdomen, just before the release Hongjoong removed his hand and instead took to gliding his dick against your pussy lips. With the sensation being too much, you yelped and sank into an orgasm, sweet nectar dripping onto, and coating his cock.

“Such a good girl for me, well done… Come on my dick baby girl.”

You were not sure when, due to the fog that enveloped your fucked out mind, but Hongjoong had made you lie on your back on his wooden desk, surrounded by the financial reports he could not be bothered to clear. He wanted you now, and that meant no pauses. Without as much as a warning, the blonde gave you one final teasing flick with his tip before bottoming out, the fullness making you gasp. Your walls were still clenching around him from your climax, which made Hongjoong growl as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, spreading your legs further apart.

“So perfect for me, Y/N… only mine…”

He mercilessly pounded into you, chasing his own high while you were seeing stars. When you were like this, under him, hair cascading onto and off the mahogany, knuckles turning white as your grasped onto the desk as he thrusted, you were the closest thing to heaven that he could believe in. In a world that was drenched in materialistic attraction, sabotage in the name of another stack, and human lives turning into corporate statistics to improve key performance indicators, this was an ethereal madness that unlocked a primal bliss, untainted by present crises. The sweetest distraction, you took him so well that he liked to pretend that you had been made just for this. Just to become his possession. His gorgeous doll.

With you, Hongjoong had begun to see purpose in his riches, being able to play dress up with you, making the office a private cat walk as you strutted in the latest collections and custom made pieces. Gucci, Versace, Prada… it did not matter to him so long as you were wearing it with the intentions of impressing him, seducing him, and only him. He was fully aware that, technically, you could be dating someone else alongside your so-called partnership with Hongjoong. As a sugar baby you could even have another ‘sponsor’ out there somewhere. Another person to make you cum, to provide you with a sensual paradise. But the notion sent him into an inexplicable rage as soon as he entertained it, and as such, he preferred to isolate visions of you from the rest of the world. In turn, this manifested itself into his real life attempts to do the same. Longer hours spent after work, an unspoken rule that the assistant should not leave until the boss does. Michelin star restaurants and exclusive rooftop bars to lure you into being in his company. And of course, sex. Or making love. However, one wished to call it when the lines began to get blurry. But Hongjoong could not care less. You made him comfortable. You were his, you had to be, otherwise what did the two years mean?

Skin against skin, breath joining breath, sight clouding, going dark. Hongjoong rolled his hips, and lowered himself to a stance where he was hovering directly above you, his piercing gaze not once leaving you. Getting drunk off every moan and gasp that he was the cause of, he relished in the feeling of your pussy taking him so well, the orgasm that he had not allowed you to ride out still making your walls clench repeatedly around his dick, pleading for his intimate, salacious demise. His thrusts got deeper as he slowed the pace, progressively losing his senses to the speeding high.

“Mm… baby girl you are… fucking priceless…” he uttered, words broken apart by each time he bottomed out in you, his balls pressing against your wetness as you could only let out a series of mewls in response, thoughts unintelligible as the repeated hits to your g-spot brought you closer and closer to total destruction.

“Daddy… please, I’m-”

“Going to cum?” he finished your sentence as your try at speaking was interrupted by a wave of pleasure, mixing with the tension from before and making the tears spring up once again. You were a wreck, impaled by Hongjoong’s member as he returned to standing up in front of the desk, thrusts rapid, sharp and finally making a droplet roll down from the corner of your eye. You yelped:

“Hongjoong… ah this is…”

“Is it too much baby girl?” he asked, without any intention to stop as he could sense himself faltering at keeping up the act for any longer. His own climax was within reach, and he was not one to deny himself any pleasures.

“No, daddy, feels…. So ah… yes…” you mumbled, at least you thought you did, but could not confirm for certain.

“Pretty girl crying for me…  so cute.” Praises spilled out of him as he groaned into the tightness, and, unsteady, removed himself from your cunt, letting out a low moan as rivulets of cum shoot out from his cock and onto your stomach.

The viscous white fluid decorating you was more than what he could ever hope for. The final marking that you were his to use, you were there to serve him, and he would never get enough. A light shake in his thighs forced him to seek balance in having a hand on either side of you, while his pulsing dick rubbed against your inner thigh.

“So pretty, Y/N. Just for me.” He stated, more to himself, and lowered himself further to give you a soft peck on the lips, which quickly deepened as you responded with an elated sigh. In these moments, you wondered if it was money that you were doing this for.

As he moved away, and with practiced motions began to clean you up with some tissues which you had in your bag, you regained full ability of inhale… count… exhale, and in the clarity, drifted to a post-coital contemplation. Hongjoong knew how to make you do what he wanted you to do. But did he know you? Could he confidently paint the portrait of your desires beyond financial and sexual gain? A man made of sugar, with an alluring physique and a kindness which he showed only to you, but should he be your only one? This thought had been plaguing you ever since last month. An unexpected, shattering appearance of a business card, that was now hidden behind a card you rarely used in your wallet, with gold embossed lettering and an otherwise minimalist design. Tasteful, exclusive, expensive. When you checked the names of those attending the meet on the island, the object had grown considerably heavier, weighing onto your consciousness. Discreetly given to you amidst a kiss of the hand and the reception of a smouldering gaze, it served a similar purpose to a number at an auction. The person whose name the card bore had announced himself as a bidder for your attention and services, a bidder astronomically higher than Kim Hongjoong, at that. It was tempting. Very tempting. And you knew that the conversation would occur at some point during your stay, seeing as even in the business setting, the man would undoubtedly be sat across from you, and would stare you down, right to the avarice festering in your heart wrapped up in designer. But you were caught in a dilemma.

Your eyes travelled back to the graceful form tending to you, forgetting about himself, at least until his baby girl was well cared for. A sweet angel, his face finally rid of tenseness and agitation as his entire focus was on your body, on you. The one who, unknowingly to himself, had shown you unprecedented vulnerability and, endearingly, trusted you much more than he ever should have. A man who walked on people and money, yet wanted a woman who could play with his heart.

It was not that simple anymore, was it? After so many doses, could you give this up? Give up and betray Hongjoong in search for a stronger hit?

What was it that you were truly greedy for?

[ukiyowi]

Mini PAC II - Shufflemancy!

Notes: Please check out the Masterlist for more! Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!

What song best represents your current energy?

Read from left to right, 1 - 3 then 4 - 6

Paid Readings! || Last PAC

1. Mile High - Salina Killa

The song "Mile High" by Salina Killa typically represents a vibrant and energetic atmosphere. Its upbeat tempo and catchy melodies often evoke feelings of excitement and positivity. In the context of your current energy, this song suggests that you are in a phase of high energy and enthusiasm.

It encourages you to embrace a sense of adventure and aim for new heights in your endeavors. It signifies a period of striving for greatness and being unafraid to take risks. The lyrics and rhythm of the song may resonate with your desire to push boundaries, explore new horizons, and chase your dreams.

This song reminds you to maintain a positive mindset, harnessing the energy and momentum to propel yourself forward. It signifies that you are in a position to achieve great things, as long as you stay focused and motivated. Embrace the vibrant energy of "Mile High" and let it inspire you to embrace opportunities and overcome any challenges that come your way.

Remember to keep the song's message in mind as you navigate your current situation. It can serve as a reminder to stay determined, embrace excitement, and aim for the highest peaks in your life's journey.

2. Dressed up in white - CAL

The song "Dressed up in white" by CAL often carries a sense of purity, clarity, and introspection. It has a soothing and contemplative vibe, which suggests that your current energy may be centered around self-reflection and inner exploration.

This song encourages you to embrace a sense of tranquility and simplicity in your life. It signifies a period of clarity and a desire for emotional purity. The lyrics and melodic tones of "Dressed up in white" may resonate with your need for a calm and serene state of being.

The song invites you to take a step back, examine your thoughts and emotions, and find solace in the beauty of simplicity. It may signify a time of shedding unnecessary burdens and focusing on what truly matters to you. It encourages you to embrace a more peaceful and centered way of living.

Allow the essence of "Dressed up in white" to guide you towards a state of tranquility and self-awareness. Take this opportunity to engage in introspection, listen to your inner voice, and seek clarity in your thoughts and feelings.

3. Washing Machine Heart - Mitski

The song "washing machine heart" by Mitski is known for its raw and introspective nature. It often delves into themes of vulnerability, emotional turbulence, and the complexities of relationships.

In the context of your current energy, this song suggests that you may be going through a phase of emotional intensity and self-exploration. It signifies a time of grappling with your emotions, perhaps feeling a bit overwhelmed or uncertain about certain aspects of your life.

"Washing machine heart" encourages you to confront and embrace your emotions, even the difficult ones. It speaks to the need for emotional authenticity and the importance of expressing yourself honestly. This song may resonate with your current journey of self-discovery and the exploration of your own emotional landscape.

Allow the essence of "washing machine heart" to guide you in acknowledging and processing your feelings. It reminds you that vulnerability is a strength and encourages you to navigate your emotions with compassion and self-care.

Take this opportunity to reflect on your emotional state, identify any areas of turbulence or unresolved feelings, and seek ways to address them. This song serves as a reminder that you have the strength to confront your emotions and emerge stronger and more self-aware on the other side.

4. Suffer with me - Líue

The song "suffer with me" by líue suggests a tone of shared pain or emotional connection. It may signify that you are going through a challenging phase in your life, where you may be grappling with difficult emotions or experiences. The title implies a desire for empathy and understanding from others during this time.

This song speaks to the importance of companionship and support during times of struggle. It signifies a need for connection and a reminder that you are not alone in your pain. It may be an invitation to reach out to loved ones or seek solace in the support of others who can empathize with your experiences.

While the title may initially sound somber, "suffer with me" can also be seen as a call for solidarity and unity. It suggests that in sharing our burdens, we can find strength and comfort together. This song may resonate with your current energy if you are seeking understanding, empathy, or a sense of community in the face of challenges.

Take this opportunity to lean on your support network, whether it's friends, family, or other individuals who can provide a listening ear or lend a helping hand. Remember that it's okay to ask for help and lean on others during difficult times.

5. Sweetest Pie - Megan Thee Stallion

"Sweetest Pie" by Megan Thee Stallion is known for its confident and empowering vibe. It embodies a sense of self-assuredness, celebrating individuality, and embracing one's own strength and beauty.

In the context of your current energy, this song suggests that you are in a phase of self-empowerment and embracing your unique qualities. It signifies a time of embracing your inner power and being proud of who you are.

"Sweetest Pie" encourages you to exude confidence and to fully embrace your own greatness. It reminds you to celebrate your achievements, talents, and the qualities that make you special. This song may resonate with your current journey of self-acceptance and self-love.

Take this opportunity to fully embrace your own power and individuality. Recognize your worth, appreciate your accomplishments, and let your confidence shine. "Sweetest Pie" serves as a reminder that you have the strength and resilience to overcome challenges and achieve your goals.

Embrace the empowering energy of this song and let it inspire you to be unapologetically yourself. Celebrate your unique qualities, love yourself fiercely, and continue to pursue your dreams with confidence and determination.

Remember, this shufflemancy reading is meant to provide guidance and inspiration. Embrace the confident spirit of "Sweetest Pie" as you navigate your current journey of self-empowerment.

6. No - Meghan Trainor

"No" by Meghan Trainor is an empowering anthem that encourages setting boundaries, standing up for oneself, and embracing self-worth. It embodies a strong and assertive energy, reminding listeners of the importance of saying "no" when necessary.

In the context of your current energy, this song suggests that you are in a phase of asserting your boundaries and prioritizing your needs. It signifies a time of self-empowerment and embracing a sense of independence.

"No" encourages you to have the courage to stand up for yourself and make choices that align with your values and desires. It signifies a period of self-confidence and self-assuredness, where you are unafraid to assert your opinions and make decisions that serve your best interests.

Take this opportunity to evaluate your boundaries and ensure that they align with your values and well-being. Embrace the spirit of "No" by learning to say no to things that don't serve you, whether it's unhealthy relationships, excessive commitments, or negative influences.

This song reminds you that it's okay to prioritize yourself and your needs. By asserting your boundaries and saying "no" when necessary, you create space for self-care, personal growth, and pursuing what truly brings you joy and fulfillment.

Remember, this shufflemancy reading is meant to provide guidance and inspiration. Embrace the assertive energy of "No" as you navigate your current journey of setting boundaries and prioritizing yourself.

[cloverskentwells]

random snippet of a 73rd Games Victor Cato AU that probably wont see the light of day. For context: Cato is the D2M Tribute in Catching Fire instead of Brutus, and Katniss has vivid memories of his Games.

---

The Recap then transitions to District 2. Onstage stands the typical Victors I would expect from a Career District. To the right is Enobaria Salinas: obsidian hair cascading down her back in perfectly styled waves, baring her sharpened teeth to the world, dark eyes glowing embers of an emotion I would describe as excitement. A Two Victor being thrilled to reenter the Arena - no surprises there.

Next to her is a younger yet much larger man, eyebrows raised at the crowd as if arrogantly challenging them, jaw clenched tight, cold blue eyes looking directly at the camera with the obvious desire to intimidate. I know him because he's a recent Victor - Cato Hadley, from the Games before mine and Peeta's.

He was infamous for his terrifying brutality and unhinged nature, for how the necks of his fellow Tributes were little more than twigs in his unforgiving grip. What set him apart from his peers, however, was his unorthodox reaction to his District partner's death - Careers are no stranger to violence, and the Packs typically fight amongst themselves for the right to the crown once everyone else is gone.

Although I try to forget the Games after the mandatory watching as soon as they are over, for some reason his stayed with me, probably because it was so unusual. Watching him kneel beside his fallen partner and gently brush her bloodstained hair away from her face, hands shaky, begging her to stay with him, almost made him appear normal, like the rest of us.

Of course, he quickly returned to violence afterwards, and thankfully any misplaced feelings of sympathy I had faded. The Tribute who had killed Cato's partner was subjected to a more intense aggression than any of the others, but otherwise Cato might as well have been just like any other Two Victor. Even now, separated by a TV screen, I feel the fearful effects of his gaze locked on me, promising a sadistic end.

"He's one to watch out for," Haymitch seems to agree, but something in his voice softens.

"What was that girl's name? The one he went in with, who died?" Peeta's curiosity spreads to me, and I wait for an answer. The train speeds across the rails in a soothing glide motion, designed to prevent motion sickness, but acrid bile rises in my throat nonetheless.

"Clove," I whisper as I recall the name. He screamed it back to her when she called for his help, desperation making his voice crack. Also, I remember he did an interview with Caesar last year to promote his own Tributes, and the conversation somehow derailed to the swirl of dark ink across his chest that was made visible by the V neckline of his shirt. His face went completely white when Caesar commented on how his tattoo, evidently of her name, was "such a sweet way to pay homage to a dead partner."

Needless to say, he wasn't interviewed again. Why exactly I noticed any of this, I'm not sure.

"He and Clove had a history," is all the information Haymitch gives us. "And now he's going back in. Young, fresh from his previous Victory, and still as strong and Trained. A little crazier too. Stay as far away from him as you can, probably for your safety."

"I was planning on it," I mutter. Nothing good ever came from extended contact with a Career. Still, now I can't shake the image of him and that girl dying in his arms from my mind.

[mrsjellymunson]

It’s me! Madaboutmunson humbly requesting for the WIP Game 🥁 🥁

Untitled water-dwelling-creature!Eddie please!

Well thank you darling! Here’s a little snippet 😃 (It’s actually 8 sentences, but who’s counting, right? 😉)

Notebook… pens… specimen bags… watertight tubes… lab coat… surgical gloves… hip waders…

You mentally check off everything you might need for your foray to retrieve something interesting from the inaccessible, overgrown lagoon adjacent to the far side of Lover’s Lake. You’d deliberately chosen this location as the setting for your final Aquatic Biology project, relishing the challenge to produce something that no one had ever seen before. Fuck Jason and his Elodea farm, and you weren’t propagating Artemis salina for anyone (even if they are super cute, you’d outgrown your Sea Monkey phase when you were eight).

None of your other classmates would go near this particular location, claiming the mysterious, hidden stretch of water was haunted, or cursed, or contained dangerous, freaky creatures that dragged humans below the water’s surface, never to return. Or, if they did, they were different - groggy, with no memory, like they’d been drugged somehow.

But your rational, scientific brain didn’t didn’t give credence to such speculative, superstitious nonsense. For every phenomena, there’s a rational, logical explanation, right?

FYI @somnambulic-thing and @80s-addict this is both of your faults… 👀😏😆

[petitmonde]

Mistress Isabelle Brooks Appreciation

Welp, looks like the crazies got her account on IG suspended again – and taking Salina with them on Twitter as well for calling it out.

She's a class act, talented, funny and one hell of a drag queen. Take one look at her mug and tell me she isn't painted for the gods.

Taking the twins under her wing after she read them to filth, she truly is that bitch.

Oh and let's not pretend she didn't have one hell of a Snatch Game, dominating the first panel with Marcia. I feel like we moved past that way too fast. She's got the chops and I cannot wait for her to finally snatch a win in a challenge.

[stateofsport211]

📸 🎥 ATP Challenger Livestream (via website)

The second set also appeared to be close, but Marchenko stood out after following up his setup with some clutch moments. Pecotic had his fair share of moments, but his maiden title had to wait due to the crucial points Marchenko excelled at throughout this set. Here was how everything unfolded.

Marchenko started the second set by capitalizing on Pecotic's previous forehand errors, he redirected the rally with a volley in response to Pecotic's drop shots, eventually smashing it for his break point conversion (2-1). He subsequently held his service game to 3-1, but faced a stiff opposition 2 games later when Pecotic came up with cross-court backhand winners to create his 2 break points, but Marchenko found his ways to save and hold his service game to 4-2.

It took another three consecutive holds until Marchenko had the opportunity to serve for the match. Without further ado, he successfully held to 0, finally winning his ninth career Challenger title, as well as securing his first title since the Biella Challenger 1 2021 after taking the second set 6-4.

[mariacallous]

A new report on biodiversity in the Western Balkans published on Thursday by the German EuroNatur Foundation, a nature conservation organisation, highlights the need for urgent action to conserve threatened natural habitats.

The report highlights areas where the natural habitat is under threat and animal species in need of conservation in Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Kosovo, Montenegro, North Macedonia and Serbia.

Albania’s Vjose-Narte region, renowned for its birdlife and wetlands, faces severe threats from the construction of the Vlora International Airport, it notes. Over 200 bird species, including the rare Dalmatian Pelican and Greater Flamingo, rely on the habitat there. 

The government’s redefinition of protected areas to facilitate the airport project has excluded 310 hectares of crucial habitat in the south of the country, alarming conservationists. 

“The construction of the Vlora International Airport, part of a sweeping vision to transform this biodiverse haven into a hub of tourism and infrastructure, threatens to mute the lagoon’s vibrant voice,” the report warns.

The report also focuses on the vast karst field of Livanjsko Polje in Bosnia and Herzegovina, a Ramsar site and Important Bird Area, which remains unprotected at national level. Ramsar Sites are wetlands of international importance designated under the Ramsar Convention.

Seasonal flooding supports diverse habitats and agriculture but unregulated water management, peat extraction and inadequate legal frameworks threaten its future.

Efforts to declare Livanjsko Polje a protected area have stalled, reflecting governance challenges in Bosnia and its fragmented environmental policies.

Montenegro’s Ulcinj Salina, once a thriving salt production site, is another battleground for conservation noted in the report. Recognised as a candidate for the Emerald Network, the area supports over 250 bird species but privatisation and neglect have degraded its ecosystems. 

The report emphasises “a struggle, pitting traditional livelihoods and environmental conservation against closed economic interests, leaving an entire ecosystem and the local community at a crossroads”.

Salina was designated a Nature Park in 2019 but a formal management body has yet to be established, hindering restoration efforts.

The Adriatic Flyway, a critical bird migration route, is under siege from illegal bird killings, particularly in Serbia, the report says. Up to 163,000 birds, including quails and raptors, are killed each year, disrupting ecological balances. Weak law enforcement exacerbates the issue, undermining Serbia’s compliance with international conservation agreements.

The report also emphasises the grave danger facing the Balkan lynx, one of Europe’s most endangered large carnivores, which inhabits the forests and mountains of the Western Balkans, including North Macedonia, Albania, and Kosovo. 

With fewer than 40 lynx remaining in the wild, this wild cat faces extinction. Its survival is a critical conservation priority, not only as a keystone species but also as a barometer of the region’s environmental health​

The report calls for enhanced legal frameworks, stricter enforcement of conservation laws, and greater community involvement. Recommendations include restoring damaged habitats, integrating local economies with biodiversity goals, and aligning national policies with EU environmental standards.

[matthew-s-j]

Roque Alva is the Lord of the Wind, the Duke of Canalloa and Marechiara, the First Marshal of Talig and the enemy of the People of Honor. According to popular opinion, the protégé of the Left-handed (he's a Stranger, Green-eyed, the Lord of cats - the enemy of the Creator)

He was the sixth child of Soberano Alvaro Alva and Dolores Alva (Salina). In his own words "indecently truthful", he's well educated, for example, has extensive knowledge of medicine, including poisons.

Alva defeated the rebels by breaking through the marshes of Renquaha, which were considered impassable in the spring. He challenged Egmont Oakdell to a duel, in which the Lord of the Rocks died. Five years later, Roque, against the will of Cardinal Sylvester, takes Richard Oakdell, the son of the murdered Lord Egmont Oakdell, as his squire.

[darkwingphoenix]

@loominggaia AU Memes (You can smell the oven on em still)

Sandrone when she's targeted by the Kelvingyard Slave Distribution System (They're giving child slaves away hella as they and don't break Cobalt's new slave limitation laws)(She legit wants them all)

Signora when she's on a call with Capitano and Columbina's current paying customer and her are fucking on the couch (She's a prostitute not because she has to, she just wants sex and money)

Dottore and Lumine when they get a password for a thing their dad's doing wrong (His favorite child is Capitano, and it's obvious)

Pierro to Marine's Husband (He's uneducated ASF)

Maui to Amber and Citrine

Dottore and Columbina as toddlers, crying to Cobalt (They prefer him to their own parents)(Columbina's crying)

Maia and Clarity as 4 year olds

How Salina and Marina made the Floeback Whales

Sai Vs Justinia (Also Maia and Clarity)

Columbina after Saraia transmutes her father into a snake (She shoved him into a jar and is about to put him into a crucible to smelt into a steel ingot)

All of Marine and Cobalt's kids' monster pets from Skylie with Justinia

Maia to Cobalt when Sai was pregnant with Indigo and their twin sibling

Divines when they're presented with this challenge (1 year off of infinity is still infinity)

Cyana, Saphirra and Cobalt when Skylie went off to battle with Kelvingyard slavers (She's yelling at Sandrone, who got wounded in battle)(Sandrone's okay, don't worreh)

Sandrone when Capitano invites her over and his parents are gone

Baby Acacia (She spawned into the Uekoro Palace pool right next to Maui, and panicked)(The after meal is after Amber fed her)

Skylie in the Damiscend Capitol House every morning

Sandrone and Capitano talking to each other (She's 4'8", he's 6'10")

Amber with her like 9 million earrings

Sandrone when her stimming is on point (She's autistic)

Columbina to Signora every morning

Dottore being flamboyantly gay (He SERVES)

Sandrone sometimes

Lumine's It Doesn't Matter vs Columbina's It Doesn't Matter

Jelani and Azura sometimes vs Saraia and Skylie all the time (They totally don't have sexual tension)

Columbina being most comfortable (And also safest to others) in baggy ASF clothing

[totaldramacruisecontrol]

Last Time On Total Drama Cruise Control: WE'RE PUSHING DAISIES!

CHALLENGE 9: - SALINAS, ECUADOR

______________________________________________ Everyone is in the lobby of the hotel. Chris is seen arguing with the receptionist, Chef by his side.

“What do you mean the ballroom is in use?! I reserved it months ago! Oh, boo hoo it's someone's wedding, kick them out! I have a TV show to run!”

"Let them be happy, Chris." "They can be happy SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"You're only saying that because you're never happy."

“Look. I have a very strict schedule. I don't have time to wait around and-”

As Chris is arguing, suddenly a staff member from the hotel comes running up to everyone.

“Oh Thank God the new people are here. Come with me. I know today was your training day but we don't have time.”

Everyone is shuffled out as Chris argues away!

Everyone...you aren't with Chris and Chef up front anymore, the hotel staff member rushes you all to another part of the hotel… The receptionist calls for a manager, and Chris turns around to speak with Chef. "God! People! The worse!" ... "Chef, where is everyone?"

Chef looks around. The kids are missing.

"Um. They're somewhere."

______________________________________________

The staff member leads everyone onto what looks like a dining hall. The view of the ocean here is honestly breathtaking, but you also notice….all the old people lounging around. They look bored.

“Ok. So we get a lot of elderly tourists coming here to retire, and we usually have staff check on them. But everyone quit. I know we promised you all training first, but we don't have time. Just…serve them food and talk to them. Please?” “Ok. I will warn you, some of them…they might think you're someone else. Just roll with it, can't have the guest all upset now, here. I'll put you in groups.” Wayne/RajJo/RipperLightning/ Trent/ ScottSugar/ BrickHarold / MKAlejandro/ Amy/ Sammy

______________________________________________ Wayne and Raj - Bitter Rivals "Oh, I'm so happy you two are talking again, I know it's hard after the incident at Drayne's wedding...." "Not to open old wounds, but it was quite a scene! Drayne, how's the wife? Hopefully she got over that comment Ryan said.....oh, talk about having too much to drink! Hoo hoo, you should've known better and not talk about the dress!" "You know how women are with jewelry. But I'm happy to see you two get along. Oh, I remember how you two would fight over everything, you two ran your parents rugged! Hoo hoo! Nice to see you two finally made up." "You were right to tell that hussy that her dress made her look like a hippo. She deserved it." Wayne and Raj are faced with an elderly man who believes they are his great grandsons, who constantly fight with each other. He recalls a particularly gnarly incident at "Drayne's" wedding. Wayne and Raj leave the situation uncomfortable, upset with the fact they had to pretend they'd ever fight with each other. Jo and Ripper - Gossip Grandma/Werther's Feeder

"Oh hello...want a Werther dearie?" "Oh River, I thought I told you not to hang around people like that...people who have trouble with the law. Heaven knows you're familiar with it too...with the inheritance and everything. Have a Werther, dear." "It's just...so hard looking after my Grandson. He's had it rough with his parents and all that. Oh, I would turn to crime if I was left all alone. Here, do you want a another Werther?" "My advice for you two. Don't worry about being left alone, only The Lord Above can judge you. You'll find people in your life that will accept you, and what you did in your past."

Jo and Ripper speak to an elderly woman who won't stop feeding them Werther's Original candies. (Mostly taken by Ripper.) She also seems to know a few secrets about the two...

Lightning, Trent, and Scott - Old Friend/Love Advice

"Oh, oh! Is that you, Randolph? Oh, I haven't seen you in years. Getting pretty frail, aren'tcha? Those old bones don't feel like they used to, huh?"

"Tristin, it's good you came to see your old grandpappy! Who's the girl? Do you need me to give you some advice? I've had many experiences with women in my lifetime." "Oh, RANDOLPH! You're looking frailer by the day…Are you alright? I feel like I should be taking care of you," The old man chuckles. "Maybe you should hit the gym!" "Now, Tristin, don't you have something to tell Scarlett here? You like her, right? Tell her. Tell her that. Be open and upfront."

The old man Lightning, Trent, and Scott are assigned immediately targets Lightning's fear of becoming weak, thinking he is an old friend. Trent is misidentified as his grandson, and he believes Scott is a girl he's brought along. He urges Trent to tell Scott that he loves him, thinking he may want to be more than friends. Trent proposes to Scott on the spot, and Scott says yes. Sugar and Brick - Newly Weds "Oh, how I missed your face, Bryan! You and your wife are just so cute together. I remember your wedding like it was yesterday! How's the baby doing?"

"Isn't being a mother wonderful? How has that been treating you?" "I'm sure fatherhood has been a joy for you, Bryan. Please come visit more often! Oh, Lakynn, what a beautiful baby." "It's okay, Bryan. I'm here for you." Sugar and Brick are mistaken for a married couple with a baby. Brick desperately attempts to keep the peace, but Sugar begins to pull out her acting skills, accusing Brick of a slew of things before claiming she wants a divorce. Brick decides to play along. Harold and MK - Grandson & Grandaughter/Complainy Boomer

"Oh, it's you! My lovely grandson and granddaughter. You know, back in MY day we didn't wear silly clothes like that. Are you both out of your minds?" "What a shame. How many cellphones does one girl need? I can see them weighing down your pockets, you know! We got by just fine without them. Cell phones are making your brains rot! No, 5G is making your brains rot! Speaking of your brains rotting, this reminds me of the stupid fight you two had as kids. You remember the one, right?" "Brand deals? Helping pay for treatment? Hm, maybe I misjudged you both. As long as you're making money, I don't care what you do! I need my medicines!" "Goodbye, Harry. I'll see you in Hell." Harold and MK speak with an old boomer who believes they are both his grandkids. MK leads him to believe that Harold is sick and dying. Alejandro, Amy, and Sammy - Awkward Couple

"Oh, my darling Granddaughter. Come here, come sit down! Oh. And your sister. Yes. Sit down! ...I see you brought your boyfriend."

"Dear, didn't we have this talk already? I don't mean to be a bore, but I thought you were…moving on from that boy. He should've stayed with that wretched ex of his...instead of dragging my sweet perfect granddaughter down."

"Not Now, Sammy Dearie. Amy and I are talking. Oh my, my poor sweet granddaughter, blinded by young love. Can't say I haven't experienced it before. It's just...you could do so much better Amy. You are my Granddaughter. You could have any boy or girl you wanted…why him?"

"Do you think all your flowery words will impress me? You may have brainwashed my granddaughter, but not me. You can judge a man's words or his actions. And I know for you. Those are two different things. But if this is how my sweet angel wants to experience heartbreak, then who am I for stopping her? What a shame. Really. It's so nice to see you two try to be nice to Samey-Sammy. I know she can be…difficult to get along with. Thank for at least doing that."

The old woman Alejandro, Amy, and Sammy are faced with thinks that Amy and Sammy are her granddaughters. She also believes that Amy and Alejandro are a couple. She's very upset about this fact. Throughout the interaction, Sammy is blatantly ignored and brushed off.

TIEBREAKER! The contestants were asked to privately vote for which contestant they believed could lead their team to victory! Alejandro VS Trent!

"Al! Make yourself useful and get me some salt. This soup tastes like a possum's ass."

"Whatever...kids these days. No respect for elders. No respect for nothing! I mean, look at you. A grown man with long hair. Who do you think you are, a rock star? Heh, yet you end up here. Serving me. Hmph."

"Excuse me?! I've never met an Alejandro who-whatsit. Nor do I care. You need to get an attitude fix. I ain't scared of nobody! You. Stop standing around and get me some pepper. This man clearly has no idea how to serve people. Maybe you'll do better. Hurry! My soup is getting cold…."

"You and your stupid haircut. Do you think any girl would talk to you looking like that?! Men these days…soft and weak…pathetic! Just standing around, waiting to be told what to do. You know back in my day; men went to war! They did something with themselves!"

Alejandro chooses to argue with the old man he's faced with, while Trent follows his orders and hands him the pepper he asked for.

It's a victory for the TERRIBLE TAPIRS! ______________________________________________

ELIMINATION: Sammy was voted out and received the cocktail of shame! ...Or was she? It's clear to her that Amy and Alejandro are part of the reason she was voted off. "This isn't how I wanted today to go. I'm really, really sorry." "You expect me to believe that? You're dead to me. Both of you. Do you hear me? Dead! You guys want to disappear so badly? Fine. I'll make you disappear. I'll make sure no one wants to talk to you or think about you again, after all is said and done. Mark my words, I will make you two pay!" Suddenly, everyone can here rapid footsteps approaching. "WAIT," someone shouts! ... IT'S SUGAR! "CHRISTOPHER. McLEAN! I. QUIT! This pageant AIN’T my callin’… ACTING is! LARS von TRIER WAS AT THAT HOTEL… HE SAW MY PERFORMANCE! And it blew his tits CLEAN OFF! SUGAR IS GONNA BE A STAR! So take me Chris… Take me instead of whateva POOR SOUL got eliminated tonight! Because I won’t be makin MILLIONS at the box office… I’ll be MAKING TRILLIONS!" ... It was Sugar who was served the Mocktail of Misery and walked the Plank of Shame. ______________________________________________ "Oh Yeah. Forgot about the boat. Just a reminder, the boat is off limits for maintenance, everyone will have an assigned hotel room until next week. Got it? Good!"

Chris drops a piece of paper at the counter. He makes his to the elevator and leaves….

The paper says:

801 Ripper/Courtney 802 Alejandro/Brick 803 Amy/Wayne 804 Raj/Sammy 805 Trent/Scott 806 Harold/Lightning 807 MK/Jo

______________________________________________

>Alejandro corners Brick. He has to ensure the Tapirs lose and vote for Courtney or he's sending Jo home. >Alejandro and Ripper talk on the beach together. Alejandro discusses his plan to disappear with Amy. Ripper enables this decision. >The Sea Tails (Alejandro, Ripper, Wayne, and Raj) have a sleepover in the lobby. There were pillow fights, nail painting, and a very uncomfortable Alejandro. >Raj gets fed up with the amount of people lying to him constantly. >Alejandro revisits the old woman who spoke down to him during the challenge. "Young Man, you do know that I am merely an actor. All of us, well- most of us were. Did you really think your host lost you?" "I hope you rot in Hell!" > The Seatails band together and attempt to get Courtney eliminated. Well, mostly Ripper and Alejandro. > Scott and Trent get a divorce. #divorce > The hockey bros and Ripper go on a fishing trip! Raj is scared of birds, so when a seagull shows up, Wayne and Ripper fight it off. Ripper specifically took to waving his fishing pole around. > Sammy walks into the ship's club, only to find a crossfaded Alejandro and Amy. Sitting through their conversations is genuinely Hell on Earth. Alejandro explains that he wants to be friends with both of them, but that it isn't possible. Alejandro and Amy receive punishments for having access to the confessionals! > Alejandro has to go on a date with Trent! A successful one. Needless to say, he was not able to achieve that goal. Trent is very aware Alejandro doesn't love him back. > Amy is handcuffed to Ripper, which isn't the best outcome given Chris persuaded him to help out with gelato. They're calling each other "bathroom buddies" now.

A Tapir leaving the game despite their win...Things are getting crazy! Love and hate blossom on this boat, and our garden grows each and every day! How much longer will Alejandro and Amy last? How are Trent and Scott going to survive such a terrible divorce? (#divorce.) And will people PLEASE stop lying to Raj!? Find out next time on TOTAL! DRAMA! CRUUUIISE CONTROL!