#it's not that it's BAD it's just that in some parts it sounds like sHIT

[moontyger]

I've been meaning to reply to this for awhile and it's largely because I feel like functionally, the person above who said formality in English is dying is right. I have seen people claim that, for example, using honorifics when translating Japanese is bad translation and you can demonstrate the same thing in English. And I have never agreed. "Formal Japanese is like speaking to your boss" is something that I've heard a lot, but I don't really feel there's a huge difference in language in (US American) English. All right, so you don't say "fuck" or "shit" or that something "sucks." But how do you tell the difference between that and someone who simply doesn't use curse words? You can't. (And except for the times when I worked for medical doctors, I've always called my bosses by their first name and it would have stood out as unusual if I didn't.)

Like those 5 examples of formality levels above? So A is something you'll only see in written English. It's the language of things like wedding invitations, which have retained formal customs that are no longer used in other areas. If someone is actually speaking like that, I'm at a Ren Faire; this is not everyday language. No one speaks to their boss like this and if you did, it would stand out as very odd - so much so that you might even be spoken to about it because it would be assumed it was a deliberate affectation and possibly even mocking. (But if you're trying to represent the speech of a character who speaks archaic Japanese, it would work for that, but obviously that is not the same as merely formal.)

B is something you might hear, but it is still a little unusually stiff. It sounds like the person is uncomfortable more than they're being formal, like they're asking someone out on a first date. (Though I guess 'formal' is maybe meant to be 'I am terrified to speak to this person'? But I never got the impression that that's quite right.) People would notice if someone were speaking like this and probably flag it as a sign of nervousness, maybe social awkwardness if they did it all the time.

And E is just... do real people speak like this? (Also it's complicated, because if they do, I also feel like this language is not just informal, it's gendered male and coded as young, so maybe it's just a bad example because it's folded so many things into it beyond formality.)

As an aside: this is part of why I think kids are often still expected to use titles when adults aren't. Socially, the US is more hierarchical with children and expects formalities from them that are not expected of adults.

This leaves C and D as the quotidian examples. D is less formal, granted, but would I say it to my boss? Sure. (OK, I actually wouldn't, but that's because I've never called a meal "a bite" in my life. But "wanna grab lunch" seems fine. It doesn't strike me as inappropriate.) So I guess I feel like yes, technically all these levels of formality exist, but most of them are not actually used any longer, so if you're using them for translating contemporary people speaking, results may be very "real people don't talk like this."

Now maybe part of this is that I live in a very informal area of the country. Maybe in other regions they really are using B to speak to their boss. But it definitely isn't a universal thing such that I would feel it was something that could be said of "modern English" in general. (Also all the examples above as well as my perspective are very white, which is of course also a complication with modern spoken American English: there are real racial distinctions. So to some extent it is a hard language to generalize.)

Edit to Add: I also want to note here that this really has changed pretty quickly. People in the 1950s and 60s were much more formal than they are now and even somewhat more formal in the 1980s. You could definitely extrapolate something about politics and some people wanting more hierarchy (and freaking out about the lack of it) from a panic about the loss of formality in spoken language.

I'm so fascinated by languages with different levels of formality built in because it immediately introduces such complex social dynamics. The social distance between people is palpable when it's built right into the language, in a way it's not really palpable in English.

So for example. I speak Spanish, and i was taught to address everyone formally unless specifically invited otherwise. People explained to me that "usted" was formal, for use with strangers, bosses, and other people you respect or are distant from, while "tú" is used most often between family and good friends.

That's pretty straightforward, but it gets interesting when you see people using "tú" as a form of address for flirting with strangers, or for picking a fight or intimidating someone. In other languages I've sometimes heard people switch to formal address with partners, friends or family to show when they are upset. That's just so interesting! You're indicating social and emotional space and hierarchy just in the words you choose to address the other person as "you"!!

Not to mention the "what form of address should I use for you...?" conversation which, idk how other people feel about it, but to me it always felt awkward as heck, like a DTR but with someone you're only just becoming comfortable with. "You can use tú with me" always felt... Weirdly intimate? Like, i am comfortable around you, i consider you a friend. Like what a vulnerable thing to say to a person. (That's probably also just a function of how i was strictly told to use formal address when i was learning. Maybe others don't feel so weird about it?)

And if you aren't going to have a conversation about it and you're just going to switch, how do you know when? If you switch too soon it might feel overly familiar and pushy but if you don't switch soon enough you might seem cold??? It's so interesting.

Anyway. As an English-speaking American (even if i can speak a bit of Spanish), i feel like i just don't have a sense for social distance and hierarchy, really, simply because there isn't really language for it in my mother tongue. The fact that others can be keenly aware of that all the time just because they have words to describe it blows my mind!

[artyandink]

UNCONSCIOUSLY SEXUAL.ᐟREADER, where you didn’t even know that most of the things you said, wore or did were kind of/very provocative. you were just… sweet, a total darling to the adults, which was why MARTHA and JONATHAN lent CLARK to help you when your house had been burgled and your parents were abroad, so they couldn’t help. Of course. your pretty little head didn’t know how a boy in your year who you’d been friends with since childhood, but you were happy to spend time with the all-american, thirsted over farm boy. He was just pretty (your brain knew better, he was hot as high hell. to the point where your panties got damp to the thought of his biceps).

CLARK was in a similar boat— he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last— he wasn’t sweating bullets because of the heat, he was sweating due to the face that your pretty lips — shit, he hadn’t even thought that way about you before — were wrapped around your thumb after a sweet glass of lemonade, in a low-necked tank, high-cut shorts, and he was so sure that he could’ve seen baby pink lace peeking out from the waistband.

Whatever it was, it was killing him fast.

Plus, he knew those panties matched a nice lil’ bra in your room that he’d unintentionally seen when up there dropping off notes— just another thing that made his mind run circles. Like, c’mon, he knew for sure that his mom and dad taught him better than to think that way about girls who didn’t even mean to do it, his brain wired itself to think that way. Now that he mentioned it, that sounded like a really bad excuse, he just felt guilty for objectifying you.

It wasn’t just the provocative actions like bending over or accidentally saying things that sounded like they alluded to sex.

it was your big eyes. your pouty lips. your perfect legs and the swing of your perfect hips when you walked. how you were so innocent and didn’t have the foggiest clue what some guys wanted to do to your gorgeous body. your ass in the pretty skirts and shorts you liked to wear. the bows on all your clothes. How you tilted your head when you didn’t know something. The bat of your eyelashes when pleading for someone to do something for you— it almost always forced a hand.

CLARK had to remind himself to stay calm. composed. a friend—

“Clark, mmh,” oh, fuck, the pretty moan that slipped from your parted lips as your soaking pussy glided up and down his cock was intoxicating, CLARK’S head tipping back against the sofa cushions at the sound, hand smoothing up your hip, to your waist and back down over your ass and thigh. his other hand trapped your little pink panties in a tight fist, his mind subconsciously making a decision to keep it so he could use it as a poor substitute for this tight cunt, dear Lord.

He was probably going to hell for using the Lord’s name in this context.

“That’s me,” He nodded, voice cracking right before a whimper, an honest to God whimper left his mouth upon feeling your pussy clench around him and seeing how your cheeks were flushed, pretty lips in a perfect ‘o’ and how your gorgeous tits moved up and down in that tank top. Up and down, up and down— he was going to get hypnotised.

CLARK didn’t even know how he got here— his foggy memory recalling something like getting you straddling his thighs, slipping his fingers between your legs to find your perfect panties already soaked— if that’s what he did to you, who knew what else you’d do for him?

His jaw clenched, feeling rooted to the spot as his fingers dug into your ass— but it wasn’t even him moving you, you were doing it all on your own, being such a big girl and bouncing on his cock yourself, with small little whimpers every time he filled you to the brim. You were moaning about how he was “s’big” and how you were “s’full”, eyes rolled back with your fingers digging into his back and along his hair.

His head lolled forward, only to have his eyes zero in on how your pussy sucked in his cock to pair with his super hearing overwhelming him with the wet sounds and your little moans and babbling murmurs hit his ears like a freight train. He didn’t help his case, he’d begun to jerk his hips up only slightly— but to you that felt like a rough thrust that had you crying out his name. Perks of having superhuman strength, huh?

And superhuman sensitivity, any longer and he’d be in the same state as you.

“S’tight, don’t— don’tcha stop—”

Oh, too late. Guess it’s not your fault that you’re UNCONSCIOUSLY SEXUAL.

special tags 4 my clark moots: @faiszt, @blackynsupremacy, @angelbabyyy99, @svnriseblvdd if there’s anyone I forgot I apologise profusely also @cherrygirlfriend I told u about this so here’s my vision

had to do a new line to include the lovely @sabrinasopposite

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch! I (a teen) was talking with my friends (also teens) about sex, specifically hookups with people you aren’t necessarily romantically involved with. They said that as a teen that’s a bad idea, since hormones or whatever fuck with uour brain and cause an unhealthy obsession or smth we watched rocky horror immediately after and I forgot the details. Is that true? That sounds not true, teens have sex and oftentimes have sex with people they aren’t in relationships with, and I’ve literally never heard anything like that before they said it. Anyway, as a horny teen who wants to engage in some no-romance hookups I’d like to know if this would idk turn my brain to mush or whatever

hi there, friend,

listen: there is no existing age where sexual and romantic entanglements don't put people at risk of getting their feelings hurt if things don't go the way they hoped. that's not something you grow out of when you're done being a teenager; it comes free with being a person. a hot tip that nobody wants to talk about is that this also isn't exclusive to sexual and romantic relationships; caring about your friends or your family or your neighbors or your pets or anything at all comes with the potential to get burned because giving a shit is inherently vulnerable. and yet, we do it anyway! isn't that beautiful?

teenagers have a reputation for having very high drama relationships because most teenagers are experiencing a lot of firsts - first crush, first date, first relationship, first kiss, first partnered sex, first heartbreak, etc - and firsts are exciting and scary and engender a lot of big feelings. your that's quite understandable; everything is more stressful when you haven't done it before. as I'm shuffling towards 30, I find that the times I feel youngest are when I'm most uncertain and out of my element, because such a big part of being young is having a very limited frame of reference and no idea how to cope with a great deal of things.

(conversely, getting older mostly involves mellowing out because you know how to handle way more situations and solve way more problems than you did when you were younger.)

a lot of moralizing panic around teenagers' sexuality tries to paint teenagers being sexual as A Bad Thing Always, No Exceptions, and try to push the idea that teenagers just shouldn't be permitted any form of sexual exploration. I think that's bullshit, partly because it's impossible to actually enforce and mainly because denying sexual expression is deeply cruel, and also because the teen years are a really important window for practicing for adulthood. including intimacy! great time to practice intimacy, and I sorely wish every teenager had the space and security to comfortably explore with support from their guardians.

when I caution young people about sex, it's just to say that, yes, sex can sometimes cause new problems and new feelings that you don't know how to deal with. fear or anxiety or insecurity can make people say and do things that hurt them and others all the time, especially in intimate relationships, so be careful and do your research to cut down on the risks you can control (for instance: following safer sex practices, keeping your body clean and healthy, talking to partners about boundaries and emotional well-being). not every sexual or romantic partner has to be forever, but partnering with people you like, trust, and know how to talk to will make it easier and less scary to figure out what to do together if/when unexpected problems do arise.

being a thoughtful and communicative partner is GREAT skill to start practicing as early as possible, trust me - I get plenty of very grown adults in my inbox who are still figuring out how to do it.

in conclusion: there's nothing inherently dangerous about sex with someone who's not a romantic partner, just make sure you're picking people wisely and looking out for everyone's safety.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Lunch Date

Summary: Steve Rogers x fe!Reader -> You have a lunch date with Steve Rogers before you realise who he is to the rest of the world.

Disclaimer: This has been sat in my WIP for a while. Mostly fluff, humour? Reader works as a historian. I haven't written for any MCU characters for a while so hopefully this isn't terrible. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you when you were six years old and running through the park playing superheroes that one day you would be having lunch with the Steve Rogers…

You probably would have believed them since you were six and was going to have lunch with your next door neighbour who was the one with the trash can lid as a shield. 

But it was true. 

You’d been working at the museum since you graduated from University. First as just a tour guide but it wasn’t long before a spot opened up to become one of the curators. Mostly you worked with war artifacts. You still did the tours, though. 

You found it fun, walking a new group around every couple of hours, seeing their faces light up with wonder as they looked at the plane parts and the genuine diaries of some of the soldiers. 

Then one day after finishing the second tour of the day, you took your lunch break. 

“I’m sorry, is this seat taken?”

You looked up and found a man dressed in a blue shirt and black trousers. He was handsome, but the thing you noticed was the look in his eyes. 

Kindness. 

“No, go ahead.”

You were a little surprised when he sat down, rather than taking the chair to another table. But when you looked around, you noticed how busy the place had gotten. 

“Sorry for disturbing you.” The stranger nodded over to the book that was laid open at the side of you. 

You shook your head. “It’s no issue. Besides, I think I’ve read the same page three times.”

It was from him asking what you were reading that you started continuing the conversation to the point where you’d learned he’d actually taken one of your tours once. 

“Be honest with me, is it boring?”

“Boring?” He shook his head. “No. Not at all.”

You gave a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”

He gave you a genuine smile. “Of course, I’m sure. Why? Did someone give you a bad review?”

You shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

You laughed a little. “There is-” 

You caught a glimpse at your watch and almost died. “Shit- sorry. Shoot, I’m gonna be late.”

He panicked along with you. “I’m sorry if I kept-”

You shook your head as you went to stand and pack your things away. “No, no. Trust me, it’s not often I enjoy a conversation so much that I lose track of time. I-I have to get to another tour but if you…” You were about to offer him your number but then you thought of something a little better. “Actually, would you like to tag along? I-I know you’ve seen it before but if you’re not doing anything…”

And for a moment, you thought you’d fucked up. But then he smiled. 

“I’d love to.”

“Great.” You looked at your watch again. “I-I will meet you there. I have to hand out the fact sheets and- you already know. See you there?”

He smiled. “See you there.”

You smiled too before rushing off in the opposite direction. By the time you were catching your breath, half way through handing out instructions, facts sheets, some promotional sheets, too, he met you there. 

“Hi, again.”

You smiled, handing him his pile. “Hi.”

And for the next hour you led him and the rest of the group on a tour of the museum giving every fact you already knew and each time you looked back to the tour group, he caught your eye and you found yourself unable to stop smiling. 

You probably looked like some mad cheshire cat by the end of the tour; especially after you and him continued your conversation privately as the tour group were given freedom for ten minutes to look around one of the larger exhibits. 

“You know what I’ve just realised?”

“What is that?”

“I don’t know your name.” You said as you looked up at him. “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He smiled and shook your hand. “Steve.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Steve.”

“Same to you, Y/n.”

By the time the tour finished and everyone dispersed either to go home or return to the exhibits they wanted to spend more time in, you and Steve took a walk back around the museum. 

“So, what brings you here? If you’ve already been before, why come again?”

Steve shrugged. “I had free time and I was in the city. Plus, it’s nice to come somewhere that feels familiar.”

“Familiar?”

Steve didn’t know how to answer your question without completely telling you who he actually was, or completely lying. 

“I grew up with a lot of historical stuff so sometimes walking around a museum can feel like home.”

You smiled and looked around. “I know what you mean.”

The museum, ever since you were a kid, had felt like a second home. One filled with even more wonder and amazement. 

Then Steve asked you a question. 

“Forgive me if this is a little forward, but would you like to have dinner with me this week?”

You stopped walking and turned towards him. 

“I’ve been told I’m meant to direct message and do a lot of ‘in between’ conversations but, if I’m being honest, I don’t see the point in it.”

You couldn’t help but smile. 

“But if you have someone already, or if you don’t want to, you can just…tell me to leave and you never-”

You stepped forward a little and laid your hand on his arm. “Steve, Steve, Steve. Stop. I would love to have dinner with you. And thank you for asking me.”

Then that smile that you’d come to find comfort in, despite only meeting him a few hours ago, flashed onto his face. 

“Thank you for saying yes.”

It took two days from swapping numbers at the museum for you to both find a time you were available and for Steve to turn up outside your apartment with a bunch of flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you. I-I didn’t know if you were allergic to any so I picked the ones that shouldn’t affect you as much if you were.”

You politely took them from him and smiled. “They’re beautiful, Steve. Thank you. Let me just find a vase.”

You invited him in and he slowly walked a little further into your apartment, taking everything all in. Your walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves where an array of different books were stationed. A desk was under one of the windows where sheets of paper were cast. Your sofa was worn in, but not in a bad way. It was well-loved and looked after. Your kitchen was similar. He could imagine you on a Sunday morning cooking yourself dinner as one of the movies from under your TV were playing inside the DVD player. 

Placing the flowers in the centre of the kitchen island, you grabbed your bag and Steve followed you out of the door. 

Every door you came to, Steve held it open for you. He walked on the outside of you as you both walked down the street since the restaurant wasn’t too far from your apartment block. He held out your chair for you before seating himself. It was the first date you’d been on in a long time where the guy hadn’t ordered for you. The conversation was constantly flowing, so were the smiles and the laughter. At some point between you going to the bathroom and coming back, the bill had been paid for. 

If he had waited, you would have fought him to split it, but it was nice to accept something for a change. He helped you get your coat on and for the next hour, you both just walked through the city. 

It was still relatively early so you just walked and talked. At some point, he’d taken your hand in his. Your gut had erupted in butterflies, and so had his. Especially when you leaned a little into him and held onto his arm. 

And as you both reached a small community park, you sat on the bench together. 

That was where you had your first kiss. It was equal parts shy, unnerving and steady. With his arm around your shoulders and his other hand holding onto yours, you found something in your kiss with Steve. 

It was unlike any other you’d experienced. It wasn’t lustful or yearning. But it was…strong. Your head, heart, gut and lungs were doing summersaults inside your body, but at the same time, you felt safe. 

Almost as if, despite it being your first kiss, it also felt like your millionth with him. 

And you both couldn’t help but want more. 

However, that was cut short by the ringing phone in your pocket. 

“Shit, sorry.”

Steve just laughed a little. “It’s okay.”

Pulling it from your pocket, the Museum ID badge flashed across the top. “It’s work.”

“Answer it.”

You did so and pulled the phone to your ear. 

“O-okay, just, stay calm. I’ll be right there.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked. 

“There’s something about a shipment. I think I need to go.”

Steve just nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you.”

Taking his hand, you both hurried back towards your apartment where Steve helped you onto the back of his motorbike. 

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Steve gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. Just hold on tightly.”

And you did. 

By the time he pulled up outside of the museum, the lights were still on inside but all the shutters were down except for one. You unclipped the helmet and hopped off before hearing your heels click up the stone stairs towards the door. 

Steve was quick on your tail following you through the museum and towards the employees only area. Finally, you both made it to the storage lock-up. 

“I’m here, what’s going on?”

“We’ve been sent these but there’s apparently been a mix up with the deliveries. All the fact cards and processing files are missing and the exhibits are meant to be ready for Monday.”

You took a breath and looked at all the new crates surrounding you. “Okay. Okay, it’s okay.”

Immediately, you got to work. 

“I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t apologise. Do you want some help? I don’t know what I can do but I might be able to do something.”

You nodded. “That would be amazing.”

Setting Steve to work helping move some of the crates out of the way so they could be opened. Most of the items were from the thirties and forties, but mostly early war days. 

Which, you soon came to find out, was a personal favourite of Steve’s when he, somehow, knew what each item was and where it was from. Between the heavy lifting, directing and processing, you heard him mention something about cereal numbers and a manufacturer he had met. 

But despite all of that, the biggest shock was still yet to come to you. 

There was a piece of a plane that was delivered. You had made some estimations for when it was made and who for when Steve had given you an exact date and a few different locations. 

That was when something clicked. 

You didn’t know why it had only just clicked, or why it had taken you so long to realise, but it had. 

And something must have clicked for Steve, too. 

You gasped. “Oh, my god!”

One of the other curators looked at you. “What?”

You looked at some of the artifacts before looking at Steve and back again. Between the shock on your face that you tried to swallow back, Steve grinned. 

“N-nothing.” You plastered a smile on your face. “Nothing. I just thought I’d seen…” You looked at Steve and your words trailed away, but you snapped yourself back into reality. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

The curator just shrugged and went back to trying to contact the shipping company of the items. 

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe it…no, no you’re not. Are you? No, you can’t be. But the…” You put your head in your hands, finally accepting it. “Oh, my god, you are.”

Steve just chuckled and walked over to you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Didn’t tell me?” You lowered your hands and looked at him. “I’m sorry it didn’t click sooner. I’m a historian for crying out loud, I should have known. I’m so sorry.” 

You hid your head in your hands again as you heard Steve chuckle. Gently holding onto your wrists, he lowered your hands from your face.

“Does this change anything?”

“Steve,” you lowered your voice. “You’re freaking Captain America.”

“But does it change anything?”

“Not particularly, no. But you’re…you’re a superhero. You-you’re an Agent and a superhero. You rescue people for a living and put your life on the line. Oh, my god, I can’t believe I asked you what you did for a living. Is this even legal? Are you allowed to go on dates with total strangers who don’t do some kind of highly secure, world-saving, job and, like, Shield level background checks?”

“Why? Is there something I should know about?”

You leaned back, realising how it sounded. “What? No. No, nothing. Not unless I’ve done something I didn’t realise I did. No, nothing.”

Steve smiled. “Relax, I was kidding. God knows I lied enough times to try and get into the army.”

“Wow, is Captain America a rule breaker?”

He just chuckled. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Does this mean I have to salute you?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Good, because I don’t know how to salute. I’d probably do it wrong anyway.”

Steve laughed once more before pulling you into his chest. “I can’t believe I didn’t realise.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was nice for someone to treat me as me without them treating me like Captain America.”

As you leaned back from him, you admitted something to him. “I feel like my history degree is going to be taken off me for not knowing.”

Steve laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your spine before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, let's get this packed away.”

A few hours later, items that could be given an info card were before being locked away safely with the rest. 

Steve drove you home and walked you to your front door. 

“I’m sorry our date got cut short.”

Steve just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, it was kinda fun having it come full circle with us back at the museum. It was also fun seeing you figure out how I knew what everything was.”

You groaned a little. “I can’t believe it never clicked with me, but I am kinda glad it didn’t. It was nice to get to know you.”

“Do you still want to?”

You nodded slowly. “So long as it’s Steve and not Captain America.”

Steve smiled and nodded. “It will be, I can promise you that.”

You smiled. “Good, I’m glad.”

Kissing you goodnight, Steve waved up at you from the street below before riding back home, already planning your next date. 

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: sam winchester x reader

synopsis: you and sam have a quickie wedding

warnings: fluff, no smut

wedding night - coming tommorrow

it’s vegas week, baby, and everything’s a little blurry, a little too loud, a little too much—and you love every second of it. the city hums with its own kind of chaotic energy, one that matches your thumping heart as you sneak another glance at sam, his too-tall frame leaning casually against the slot machine like it’s no big deal he’s about to marry you in less than twenty-four hours.

his eyes catch yours, a slow, soft smile curling at the edges of his lips, the kind of smile that makes your chest tighten in all the right ways. damn, that smile. it’s got a way of undoing you without even trying.

"you ready for this?" he asks, voice low and a little rough, like he’s still not entirely sure you’re serious about tying yourself to his kind of crazy.

you step closer, fingers trailing along the edge of his jacket, a teasing grin playing on your lips. "sam, i’ve been ready since the day you handed me that cheap diner coffee and told me demons were real. you think vegas is gonna scare me off?"

he chuckles, the sound deep, vibrating through your bones in the most delicious way. "didn’t think so," he murmurs, pulling you in, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades—just the two of you and the wild energy of the strip flickering in neon behind your closed eyelids.

then, there’s dean.

of course there’s dean.

“alright, lovebirds,” he interrupts, not even pretending to hide the smirk that stretches across his face. "as much as i love a good chick flick moment, we’ve got a wedding to plan, and if you think i’m not gonna be part of this, you’ve lost your damn minds."

sam groans, but it’s affectionate, his arm slipping around your waist as he turns to face his brother. “dean, it’s just a small ceremony—”

“yeah, yeah, small ceremony, big party. listen, sammy, you might not need a best man, but i’m not sitting on the sidelines for this one.”

there’s a beat of silence, then sam looks at you, a little helpless, a little resigned, like he knows there’s no arguing with dean when he’s made up his mind. and, let’s be honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

"he’s in," you say, slipping your hand into sam’s. "how could we do this without him?"

dean grins, slinging an arm around both of you, already talking about the perfect dive bar for the post-wedding blowout. and as much as sam rolls his eyes, you can tell he’s relieved, because that’s the thing about the winchesters—there’s no such thing as doing anything alone.

____

the chapel isn’t much—one of those quickie joints with gaudy hearts plastered on the windows and a sign that reads 24-hour weddings, elvis optional. you couldn’t resist the cliché, the allure of something so wildly impulsive and reckless. it felt right. but as you stand in front of the doors, a nervous knot twists in your stomach. it hits you that this is real. not just some drunken dare or spur-of-the-moment thrill. this is a forever kind of thing.

you’re in a dress that hugs you in all the right places, sam’s in a suit that somehow makes him look even more irresistible, and dean? dean’s got a shit-eating grin like he’s officiating the damn thing himself.

the ceremony’s quick, simple—just the way you wanted it. sam’s hands are warm, steady as they cradle yours, and when he promises forever, you know he means it. hell, you both do. because in a world that’s always ending, where the monsters are real and the stakes are life or death, finding someone to hold onto? that’s the real jackpot.

"you may now kiss the bride," the officiant says, but sam’s already leaning in, catching your lips in a kiss that’s too hot for the little chapel, but you don’t care. you melt into him, forgetting everyone and everything except the way he makes you feel like the world could burn and you’d still be okay.

dean clears his throat. "as touching as this is, i think we’ve got some shots to take and some bad decisions to make."

you laugh against sam’s lips, pulling back just enough to look up at him, breathless and giddy. "what do you say, mr. winchester? ready to make some bad decisions?"

sam’s grin is a little wicked, a little wild. "as long as they’re with you, mrs. winchester."

and with that, you’re swept into the madness of vegas, the three of you—sam, dean, and you—taking on the night like it’s your last. because with them, every day’s an adventure, and this? this is just the beginning.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

[27spoons]

Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie

a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)

wc: 3430

[you don't need to read either part to read this.]

part one / part two

A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.

You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.

Great. Recap over.

Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?

That's practically a carnal sin.

You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…

Whatever.

You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.

Still, you decide to investigate further. 

Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger. 

When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.

Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.

So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.

You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all. 

A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"

"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"

"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"

She doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"

The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.

Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.

What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.

It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this." 

"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"

"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.) 

"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.

"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."

"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"

"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."

"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.  

"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."

If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.

"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."

"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."

So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—

Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"

"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."

You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.

Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.

"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"

She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."

Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"

With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.

And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"

"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."

Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"

"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."

"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"

Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"

She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."

"N-no, but it's funny—"

You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."

And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.

One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.

"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"

Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."

You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—

…

Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"

Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.

"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"

A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."

You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever." 

You decide it's her turn, now. 

As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.

One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.

"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."

"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"

She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"

You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."

"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."

Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."

"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."

A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.

She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.

The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.

"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."

Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."

"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."

You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."

"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."

A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.

Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.

You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.

So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue. 

It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.

In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing. 

"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."

Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."

"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.

"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."

A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."

"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."

You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"

"We can get off more later."

"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"

"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"

You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."

She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."

A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."

a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr

[lonigiri]

chapter seven ; packed

masterlist

taglist

she gripped her pencil tighter with every ring of the bell that the small cafe had. she didnt want to see him, especially not after the shit he just pulled. and why was this stupid cafe so packed at 5 pm on a thursday???? "hi! i see that you're trying to work, but as you can see we're pretty packed today! i was wondering if i could move you to a single table so we could free up this one for bigger parties?" one of the workers had come upto the table, asking her to basically fuck off and calling her a lonely bitch is how she took it. yn grabbed her stuff and walked out of the cafe, who the fuck does that bitch think she is, shes there every single night and she just kickes her out?

yn had a million thoughts going through her head as she walked down the sidewalk, she honestly had no clue where she was going, not even letting kuroo know she wasnt gonna be at the cafe. and then she just crossed the street without thinking, not stopping to see if it was even her turn, nor to look both ways to even see if a car was coming. there was a honk before a loud screech of tires coming quickly to a halt. yns eyes widened as she looked at the car, like a deer in headlights. what was she thinking, so many thoughts flowing through her head, she could've died? an open and close of a car door was heard as the driver had left the car. yn just standing there, still staring at the car, not being able to move, frozen with fear a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"yn? oh my god are you okay? you're not hurt right??" the panicked familliar voice sounded. he grabbed onto her shoulders turning her to face him. kuroo. she blinked, more tears falling from her eyes, choked sobs coming out. she didnt know why she was crying she just was. beating herself up inside, why was she letting him see her like this?? kuroos hand came up to her face, wiping away some of the tears. "i.. im sorry." was all yn could fester out of her voice box. "no dont apologize, i should've been paying attention more, i was just a little bit distracted. i could've hit you, i would've never forgave myself." he kinda mumbled out the last bit but she could still make it out. kuroo realized that they were kinda in the middle of the street when cars were coming by and flipping them off. "here get in the car, we can park somewhere." was what kuroo said before ushering her into the car, making sure to open and close the door for her.

they had parked in a random parking lot. "are you sure you're okay? you didnt get hurt or anything." "im fine, just a little shaken is all, but it was my fault, i didnt look where i was going." "im sorry i wasnt there earlier then this wouldn't have happened." "kuroo its not your fault. i left because they basically asked me to, it was super packed and they said that they needed to free up a table." a sigh of relief exited kuroos mouth as he held onto the steering wheel. kinda relaxing into his seat. "yn, i wanted to make it up to you." "make what up?" she was kinda confused, besides acting kinda odd he's never really done anything, not that she would ever admit that out loud or in a court of law but.

"i know that i've said some stuff to you that is kinda off putting and weird and nothing that i've said has really came off in a way that i actually meant it." her eyebrows furrowed, if she didnt know any better this could almost sound like an apology. she let him continue on his tangent. "and i wanted to start over, i know you cant really completely forget everything but i wanted to ask if we could put that stuff in the past and maybe i could be less weird and offputting this time?"

she felt,, bad? she couldn't put her finger on exactly how she felt but it was deduced to feeling bad. she made this poor guy think that she absolutely hated his guts --which she did----for the most part-- and now he wants to start over, because of how badly she made him feel.

"its not your fault." she muttered out. his eyebrows furrowed at the sentence. "but i've been the one acting weird so it-" "you've been acting like yourself, not weird." she said, putting weird in air quotes, "and when this started i wasn't happy with my roommate, so i kinda already decided that i wouldnt like you even before i knew you. and i honestly feel horrible now, because even though i know you have good intentions i just couldnt help but think the worst."

"woah" is all kuroo said. "i um, dont know what to say really." "i know im a bad person, i try to be better but-" "its okay, i understand." "you do?" kuroo just nodded "i mean if someone came up to me, mewed in my face then asked me for my number i'd have an opinion formed on them before i talked to them." she let out a small laugh. "i guess that is how it went down." kuroo nodded and laughed aswell. "i never did give you my number though."

okay so i love this story again 😁

tags (open): @giocriedpower @jellysupremacy @mirtaspace @pkjay @dwkkiu @rrosiitas @tetsuswhore @eruphi @nymphsdomain @0tsukie @milkystarrrycharm @obamakinnie @emotiandon

[ravennaortiz]

Sorry About My Tail

Summary: You call Juices bluff about having no control of his tail one night. As always 18+

You were washing glasses behind the bar when you felt the familiar feel of coolness slinking around your waist. Followed by the steady tapping of a heavy spaded tip on your abdomen.

“Juice. Your tail” you stated not even bothering to glance down. You knew what it would be and who it would belong to. This was something that happened often since you had started working for the Sons.

“Shit. My bad.” Stated Juice as he glanced over his shoulder and tugged on his tail removing it from you. “Damn thing just has a mind of its own.” He chuckled as he gave you a sweet goofy grin. His hand keeping a hold of it as the tip flicked back and forth.

“Tell me again why it’s only yours that seems to have a mind of its own?” you questioned innocently as you looked at him. Spending time with the club had garnered you some inside knowledge and while you knew most of them were demons of some degree, Juice was the only one whose tail acted on what he called its own impulses.  Your questioned garnered chuckles from Tig, Chibs and Happy who were seated at the bar nursing beers.

Juice scoffed at your question. “Cause I’m different that’s all and young. Not like I’m trying to feel you up”

“Different for sure” muttered Happy making you all laugh as Juice shot him a glare.

“Hmmmm, Half and Rats tails never snake themselves around me and technically as far as demons go they are younger” you replied casually. Careful to keep the challenge out of your voice but letting it be in your eyes as you glanced at Juice before turning your back to him to put glasses up. You saw the flash of red in his eyes briefly in the dirty mirror behind the wall and bit your lip. You had long suspected that your friend and roommate had full control of his tail.

 Many a night you had woken to it sliding up your thigh, slipping under your skirts and dresses during club parties, stroking your hair or resting on your shoulder when guys from other clubs approached you. The other day while passing by his room you had watched as he easily caught his computer with it as it started to fall off his desk. You had also seen him catch other objects as they went to fall from the corner of your eye, using it to stir food, even using it to eat when he was working on club stuff.

“Anything else I can get you three before I head out?” you inquired sweetly as you turned to the other three men.

“All good lassie. Have a good night” stated Chibs as they shook their heads.

“I’ll see ya at home. Night guys” you called as you grabbed your jacket and purse before patting Juice on his shoulder and heading towards the door.

“I think she might be onto your horny tail brother” stated Tig once you were gone making the others laugh as Juice flipped him off.

Later that Night

Once you got home you had showered and changed into a cut little lingerie set. You bit your lip as you looked at yourself in your bedroom mirror. The sound of a bike coming down the street and parking had your heart racing as you moved to grab the silky robe and put it on. Leaving your room you made your way to the kitchen trying to be casual as you heard the front door open and close.

“Hey” greeted Juice as he stepped into the kitchen swallowing hard as he noted you in your little silk robe.

“Hey. Leftovers are in the fridge” you called over your shoulder as you reached up into your wine cabinet and pretended to be looking for a bottle.

“Sounds good” stated Juice as he made his way to the fridge his mind on anything but food as he watched as your robe lifted revealing the lower part of your ass to him. Turning away he opened the fridge door slowly as he moved his tail towards you.

You grinned as you felt the cool skin and spaded tip trailing up your leg. Glancing down you watched as it got higher on your thigh. “Juice your tail is doing it again” you stated as you turned to look at him,, lowering your feet back flat to the floor.

“Sorry” he stated as he turned to look.

“I know you have control of it” you stated quietly as you grabbed it by the tip gently as he started to pull it away.

“I don’t” started Juice before letting out a groan as you rubbed your thumb over the tip in a circle.

“I wanna see what else it can do.” You stated as you turned letting your robe flow open. Revealing your body decked out in Juices favorite color.

A half hour later you were on your knees in the kitchen with Juices tail buried deep in your pussy as he used it to fuck your pussy as his cock was buried in your throat. You had lost track of how many times he had made you cum as he kept up a relentless pace.

“Can’t wait anymore” he groaned as he poured his release into your mouth with a powerful thrust. You happily swallowed him up as his tail started to slow inside of you. Once you had pulled off him you smiled up at him.

“How quick can demons go again?” you asked as your hand snaked down between your legs. Juice grinned before speaking.

 “Let’s get upstairs to a bed and I’ll show you. You better call Chibs though and call off for tomorrow and maybe the next day. You won’t be able to walk well for a bit” he stated as he lifted you up and moved to the bedrooms.

[puppetgirlsstuff]

Choso x Black Reader.

Summary: It's been while since you've seen your bestie. She called you up to go to an night party. You know you couldn't say no so you went. But just for an surprise you'll be seeing someone you didn't think that wouldn't be their.

Warning: fingering, secrets, kissing, getting drunk, smoking, slurs, and mouth job.

As you got ready for you're night out. You heard a buzzing sound. It was you're phone you walked over as you're dress shines in the light with the redness shows out well. It was you're bestie Brooke. She texted you. It saids she arrived. You put you're phone in your bag and headed down stairs to the door. But before you left you gave you're dog some pats before leaving out and locking the door.

When you walked down from the stairs you headed to her car. Opening the car door. Getting in then closing it. "Hey! Bitch I haven't seen you in so long!" Brooke saids to me as she try to hug me in the car. "I know I know I've missed you too!" You tell her as she got done hugging you. Before starting up the car again and started y'all way to the party. "So what's been going on?" You asked her. "Shit nothing much just been getting my bread up. The stripper club isn't so bad once you get used to the assholes around." you giggled at her statement.

"What? I'm being for real. Like they would be drunk as hell just to pour out about their relationships issues. But shit it gets me more money." She takes a right turn through the streets. "But what about you babygirl? I know you've been hella busy I feel like its been a year." She saids with her dramatic tone. "Just been studying theses teachers killing the hell outta me with there work though. No gone lie make's me wanna drop out of college but I wouldn't dare." You gave it to her straight while leaning your head into the seat. "Aw honey I'm sorry to hear that. But you a good one I wouldn't be able to do that shit."

You guys talked a bit more before pulling up to loud music, changing color lights, bottles everywhere on the lawn, some people outside smoking and a hole lotta cars. Brooke park the car and you both got out. "Ready?" She asks you and you nodded. You both walked in the house and well damn you there was a lot going on. Even with games. "Okay so like what you wanna try first!?" Brooke yelled out because of the music. "Let's start with the cup game!" You both walked over just to see a free spot to play. You already knew what to do. This was your favorite game of all.

You waited for a opponent. Just for a pretty damn handsome 5,11 guy to walk up. "Damn that nigga hot." Brooke whispers in your ear. "Bitch you damn right same thing I was think of." You responsed. You felt like he heard y'all because his smirk popped up on his sexy face. He already looked so good with his hair down on his face, and his body. Oh Lord that body. "Hm? Wait... Gurl that's Choso. Remember yo crush back in high school." She was right it was him took you long enough to remember.

You couldn't believe it. But sad part about it you hated him and stop day dreaming over him. You just started the game. Throwing one after another. You realized you were losing to him. 'The hell? Get it together Y/N.' Before you noticed it he won the game. You were upset by it and the drinks made it no better. He smiles at you knowing the feeling you got from the game. You just walked away trying to not let him see it no longer. Brooke followed after you. "Are you okay!?" She yelled. "Yeah just surprised! Can we just find something else to do!?" She nodded and grabbed your hand before taking you to the basement. You were hit with smell of weed. You sat down on couch where they were smoking at. "Pass dat." You told the boy next to you. It wasn't that loud so it was cool to just use your inner voice a bit. You got down to work. It was a cycle. Just smoking it, passing to the next, and drinking.

'Fuck I need to refill my drink.' You got up and let Brooke know you'll be back. You went back upstairs. And headed to the kitchen. You refilled it and turned back around to head back but you ended up bumping into someone. Making your drink spilled upon your chest. It leaks down a bit slowly. "Fuck watch where your fucking going dude!" You told him off. You look up to see it was Choso. "Oh I'm sorry mamas didn't see you there." You knew it was bullshit. "Why were you so close!?" You looked at him pissed.

"Just forget it!" You didn't give him time to answer and stormed off the bathroom. You found one that was free. You walked in it and closed the door. Your top of the dress was ruined and smelled like strong liquor. You started to wipe some off but it was still some on your breasts. So you unzipped your dress a bit so you could clean them off. You heard a knock on the door. "I'm in here!" you yelled and continued to wipe some off. As you looked in the mirror the door was opening. You didn't have time to close it. But it was no other then Choso walking in and closing the door.

"Hey what the hell I'm busy!?" You tell him trying to hide you're half naked body. You try to put back on your dress. But fails to "No need for the clothes babe." He saids locking the door before walking up to you and pressing up against your ass. You didn't know why put you felt a type a way. "What are you doing. Back up some.." You looked down from the mirror. You didn't want to see his face. Everytime you did it made things worse. "Embarrassed sweet heart?" He saids as he leans onto your neck with kisses. You're breathing felt heavy. His hands felt upon you're dress. As he takes it off fully. You weren't wearing a bra. It's not like you needed it.

"Mm you naughty little slut you weren't wearing nothing." You whimpered a bit to his words. But of course you had panties your dark red soft panties. He gripped both of your breasts while playing with your nipples. Pitching them bit. While he sucked on you neck. You felt heavy under him. Everything you were taking in. You felt wet. He stopped sucking on your neck. "You were just so mean to me. Why is that?" He teases you in his tone "And not only that you just started to get so cold towards me back in high school."

He let's go of one of your boobies as it bounces. Then he took that hand to pull your head back so you were looking at the mirror. "Answer me!" His deep tone scares you but only made you wetter. You couldn't answer him. "No answer? Hm that's okay babe you don't have to talk yet." He let's go of your hair then your other boob. You thought he was done after not answering him. But so dead wrong you was. You felt him taking off your panties. They slid down on it's own. You felt his fingers pushed inside. It caught you off.

It made you moan out. "So wet. And yet I haven't even touched you that much." His pace got sped up a bit. Teasing you and it was annoying. You're whimpers were telling that out to him. "F-faster.." your words were going downhill. Those drinks finally kicking in. "I don't think you understand. You're not the one whos calling the shots here." He goes deeper. And you pout at his words. His pace sped up a bit. But more deep he goes. "More more.." He smiles "No babe you don't get what you want remember?"

He takes his fingers out of you. "On your knees and in front me now." His tone you felt. But you did as he saids. "Feel it." You put your hand to feel it through his pants. "You see how hard you've made me feel." He groans out. "You know what to do get to work." You unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. You see it poking through. You pull his underwear down. "Go ahead." You start by licking it and a few strokes. He groans out to your touch. You tasted the tip and licking it in circles.

"Oh fuck babe. I need more." He pushes you up and down on it making you go fast. The sounds fills the room. You couldn't help but gag on him. Your moans sent him. "Shit your mouth feels so good." He slaps your face a couple of time. "Look at my face with those pretty eyes." You look at him with watery eyes. "Ahh shit hm. So good." He chuckles a bit. "Don't cry babe you know you like it." You close you're eyes while the tears streams down. But you feel pain on your cheek. "What the fuck I say bitch eyes open." He moans out and pulls your head all the way down on him. "Shit!" He came down your throat. And took it outta you're mouth. "Swallow all of it." Once again you do as you're told. "Good girl. Since you've been so good for me I'll let you cum." You get up off your knees and stand in front of him.

"Where do you want me most mamas? Inside you dicking you deep. While I'm holding you up in the air?" You nodded to him. "Yes p-please." You tell him and he looks at you. He picks you up and now both of you are making full eye contact. You wrap your legs around him same with your arms. He starts to kiss you. His tongue connecting with yours. Before you knew it he slips it inside you. The feeling of how tight you were. "Oh fuck-.." He moan in the kiss.

He started his pace fucking you against the wall. You're nail deep into his back. As he starts to increase it. "You're so tight. So perfect for me." You felt him stretching you out. He wasn't small he's pretty big from what you thought. "H-harder." You tell him. The pain turn into pleasure but you wanted more from him. "As you wish." He whispers in your ear. Then starts to rough kiss you as he went in deeper and harder in you. You screamed his name between the kisses he gave. He knows you were getting close.

He keep on he felt it. Before you knew it you came on him. It came down hard you were shaking from it. "That's my girl." He whispers. You were trying to calm down from your high. But he keep going. You cried out to him. "No it hurts.. To much." Your started to tear up. "No stop."

"Aww why stop? You were just begging for it like the little slut you are." He tells you as he thrusts in deeper. "Plus babe I haven't cum inside yet." You couldn't take being overstimulated. You never did it before. "Shh it's okay were almost there."

He was right you felt him twitching. You bite his neck for support. Your spit leaking down from the bite mark. "Ah fuck. Just a few more. I know you can handle it." He pounds into you a little more. You whimper loudly while squeezing your eyes shut. "I know I kno-.. Fuck. It's okay babe I know your coming down to another orgasm." You breath heavily to his words you knew he was right. "Cum for me mamas." He tells you as his last thrust inside you.

The body beneath him as her orgasm crashed over her, her pussy clamping down around his cock like a silken vice. A scream of pure ecstasy tore from her throat, tears streaming down her face as waves of pleasure consumed her. He let out a groan as he felt her come undone, her climax triggering his own.

With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her spasming channel as his own release overtook him. His hot seed erupted from his cock, painting her insides white and jerked in her. He holds her for a bit a calm down before putting her down.

As the final aftershocks faded, He looks down at her, his eyes dark and intense. He brushed away her tears with his thumb, a hint of tenderness in the gesture that made the moment all the more unsettling.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "My perfect little whore." You both got cleaned up after that. He made sure you had his number. Because after that there's no way he's letting you get away from him again. You said you're good bye to Choso and went off to find Brooke. Once you did she yelled at you about disappearing for to long. She was worried something had happened.

Truth is nothing did. You just had some catching up to do with an old crush of yours.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 22/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Twenty-Two: Difficulty

Once Bruce arrived home, he told Harvey the truth about why he went there, and Harvey squinted at him. “Bruce, that sounds dangerous,” Harvey whispered. “How do you know you didn’t damage your organs permanently?” 

“I’m fine. Some of my blood test results were slightly elevated, but I’m fine,” Bruce whispered as he slipped under the blankets. Harvey swallowed hard and lay his head back on the headboard. 

“Bruce, I—. Shit… Bruce—? Can we talk about this?” Harvey stammered.

Bruce lifted his head. “I don’t really want to make a thing out of it. It’s over,” Bruce whispered, “Do you not want to do this tonight?” 

“I mean, yeah… I do, but I—.”

“Please. It doesn’t have to be a thing,” Bruce whispered, “I’m okay.” 

“Okay, but I—.” Bruce shushed curling his lips around Harvey’s cock. He gently bobbed up and down once before taking Harvey’s length in his mouth. “ Jeeesus Christ… Did you get better at this?” 

Bruce lifted his gaze to meet Harvey’s eyes, and he gagged on it. Bruce shut his eyes tight as Harvey held his head in place. He let go, and Bruce sat up. “Don’t cum yet. I want you,” Bruce panted. 

**

Bruce kissed Harvey's collarbone. “I’m scared, Bruce,” Harvey whispered.

Harvey paused, waiting for Bruce to say something, but Bruce just kept kissing him. “One more—.”

“Bruce, I said I’m scared,” Harvey interrupted. 

“Of what?” Bruce questioned. 

“It’s getting dangerous, Bruce. It was one thing when you were learning how to fight and renewing your first aid certification. Now, you’re doing things that could get you killed,” Harvey answered. Bruce rolled onto his back and sighed. “I love you, and I respect that you get comfort from preparing for the worst… But I hate this. I hate the idea of you getting killed doing something you don’t—.”

“Would you rather I not tell you?” Bruce snapped. 

“I don’t want to fight with you. I love you, and I know this is how you get all the bad thoughts in your head to go quiet. Baby, look at me. You’ve got to get help before this gets out of hand. I’m not going anywhere, but I want—.” 

Bruce rolled out of bed, planted his feet on the ground, and shook his head. “You have no idea how hard it was for me. All those appointments. All those teachers put me in the fish bowl and kept me away from everyone else. Do you know what the fish bowl is? It’s where the Academy puts all their sick kids. Before I met you, I didn’t want to be here anymore—.” 

“Seeing a therapist isn’t going to change our relationship, Bruce. You are always going to be my heart… But, I want you to get help. I want you to slow down and see that this isn’t the way to control that anxiety,” Harvey whispered as he got on his knees and leaned over Bruce’s shoulders. “You’re so smart, Bruce. Can’t you use that brain of yours to help people without endangering your life?” 

Harvey kissed Bruce’s cheek. “You want me to go to Dr. Paterson again… Don’t you?” Bruce questioned. 

“From what you told me, I think you liked him… You liked talking to him. Whenever you talk about the bad parts, it’s always how the people at school treated you. I’ve never once heard you say you hated therapy,” Harvey noted. Bruce didn’t answer him. “I started seeing someone while you were gone. I was in a very dark place after you left… And your mom gave me the name of a shr—. A doctor. I think it’s helping. I see her once a month.” 

“You see someone?” Bruce asked. Harvey nodded. 

“I’m working through a lot there, and I think it’s helped… I think I have a lot of darkness inside me,” Harvey confessed. Bruce lay on his back next to Harvey. “Will you talk to someone? For me?” 

“Okay. Give me a kiss?” Bruce whispered. Harvey smiled as he pressed his lips to Bruce’s, parting his lips and allowing Bruce’s tongue to enter his mouth. 

“Do you think we screw more than we make love?” Harvey asked after he pulled away. Bruce chuckled. 

“Is there a difference if we’re already in love?” Bruce asked. 

“When you’re screwing, you’re just horny and want to get off. When you make love, it’s—. God, I don’t know. You can just—. It’s hard to explain,” Harvey answered. 

Bruce stared into Harvey’s eyes. Harvey was serious, and Bruce wanted to carefully consider his answer before speaking. Harvey pushed Bruce’s hair out of his face and smiled. “I always think of it as making love… It wouldn’t feel as good with someone else. I think I like being with you because it’s the closest we can physically get. Sometimes I want to get so close that we’re in each other’s skin, thinking each other’s thoughts… And I feel crazy for saying it,” Bruce whispered. 

Harvey blinked hard, and Bruce broke eye contact out of shame. Harvey climbed on top of Bruce and kissed him. “Good answer, handsome,” Harvey whispered in between kisses.

**

Martha went to the kitchen for a snack and ran into Alfred at the fridge. She walked on her toes before squeezing Alfred’s bottom. Alfred chuckled. “Hello, darling,” Alfred whispered as Martha wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his back. 

“You smell so good,” Martha whispered. Alfred placed a hand over hers and smiled. “It’s nice to have the boys home for the holidays. Isn’t it?” 

Thomas came downstairs scratching his head. “Martha, are we still hiring yoga instructors to teach classes at the clinic during the week?” Thomas asked. 

Martha nodded as she reached for his hand. Thomas pulled her into his arms. “I’m gonna talk to Bruce tomorrow morning,” Martha whispered. 

“What about?” Thomas and Alfred asked at the same time. 

“He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to tell him that we started seeing Dr. Watkins after he left,” Martha explained, “I just want him to know what’s going on and that we’re doing alright.”

“Oh okay. And I um—. I’ve given consideration to what you’ve both asked, and I’m open to it. To trying… I just—. I’m going to be honest and tell you that I’m feeling a little self-conscious about the whole thing,” Thomas confessed. 

“What are you self-conscious about, hon?” Martha asked. 

“Two bodies is far different than three… And we all ask different things of each other,” Thomas whispered, “And I don’t know what goes on between you and Alfred in the bedroom.”

“I know you, Thomas. I know what you’re like in bed, and I’ve—. I’ve seen you and Alfred together,” Martha confessed. Thomas let go of her and hugged himself. 

“When?” Thomas asked. 

“It was a long time ago… You have nothing to be ashamed of… I think your bodies together look beautiful,” Martha whispered. Thomas took a deep breath. 

“I can’t even be upset. I used to ask Alfred about what it was like with you in bed,” Thomas replied, “But I fear that might breed jealousy in me.” 

“Why would you be jealous? You are so attentive and sweet,” Martha whispered. Alfred nodded to agree. 

“Thomas, there’s no pressure, darling,” Alfred whispered, “If you don’t want to—.” 

“Two weeks. I’d like to do it in two weeks,” Thomas interrupted.

[shadowlikesvsynth]

Have finally swapped out my mouse for a different one !!! Now I can actually drag w left click :D!!

This means I can midi shit on pc now!!

[mantisgodsdomain]

More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.

Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.

Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.

[death-limes]

falling headfirst back into my middle/highschool hyperfixation of shipping blossom ppg and dexter laboratory (aged up ofc), except now im a lot better with characterization and relationship dynamics so their whole story in my head has gotten a huge glow-up of sorts & i love them even more now

too bad they dont rlly have a fandom that gets Like That about them, ao3’s got slim pickins & most of it is just kinda basic

[4lexnilsen]

“you’re being ridiculous,  helena.”   alex can only roll his eyes and dismissively wave his hand,  trying to understand what it is that she’d want him to do when his friend is under constant scrutiny for simply existing.   “she’d never lay a hand on you!   and if she did,  i surely wouldn’t just sit by and praise her for it or excuse her behavior.”   he doesn’t allow anyone to speak poorly about helena in his presence,  so why would he allow helena to belittle his other friends?   he puts down what’s left of the churro that he’d been munching on and wipes his lips with the back of his hand,  trying to ignore the spectacle that she’s putting on.   the tears that he’s glimpsed in her doe-like hues must be fake —   this spoiled brat isn’t used to people disagreeing with her or talking back.   still,  his heart aches but he’s too angry to feel much sympathy.   who gave her the right to play freud and analyze his life choices?   project her own insecurities onto him?   “ohhh,  helena wayne said her first bad word.   what would daddy think about it?”   he cruelly taunts,  figuring two can play this game of blatant disrespect.   

“who’s been treating you like shit?   name one person.   sarah?   she avoids you like the plague!   poppy?   that’s all in your head.   she doesn’t have any personal agenda against you.   she just wants to make sure that i’m not replacing her!   for someone who constantly talks about feelings and tries to pick apart every single one,  you have no empathy for her.   how do you know they talk behind your back?   see?   you’re doing it again!   putting words in people’s mouths.   i’ve never heard them say anything rude about you.   period.   again,  sarah doesn’t know you and poppy isn’t hellbent on making a villain out of you.”   he’s reaching for the door,  ready to just get out of her car and remove himself from this insane situation before she begins to throw other things at him.   all because he’s a good friend.   “which one of us are you talking about right now?   a professional guilter and manipulator with a victim complex.   that’s all you,  helena.   oh,  look at me,  i’m so friendly and sweet and i’ve convinced myself other girls just hate me.   do you even hear yourself?”   he zips up his jacket,  shaking his head because she sounds psychotic.   absolutely psychotic.

“a guy with a whole lot of issues?   jesus christ.   you really are crazy.   i’ve got issues because i go on vacation with my best friend who just so happens to be a woman?   i don’t know what misogynistic bullshit you’ve been taught in private schools,  but men and women can be just friends.”   if he only allowed himself a glimpse into the darkest parts of his soul,  he’d know that she’s right about everything —   he does have plenty of issues and trauma that has never been fully processed.   but something that his consciousness refuses to acknowledge.   “sharing a bed.   oh,  how evil of us that was.   right,  because sleeping in one bed means you’re fucking,  yeah?   i have back problems,  helena.   it was an honest mistake during the booking process,  not some great scheme to get into each other’s pants while sarah’s waiting at home.   we slept in one bed because i couldn’t sleep on the floor or the tiny sofa because of my back,  and i sure as hell wasn’t gonna let poppy take the floor.   just like i wouldn’t let you do it.”   he can’t believe she’s actually stalked those pictures,  read the captions.   that’s obsessive behavior.

“unlock the door,  i’m going home.   i can’t handle more of this bullshit.   you’ve offended me enough times for one day.”   but just as he says it,  the car roars to life and he’s squished back into the seat,  fingers digging into the leather beneath.   suddenly,  the temperature reaches a hundred degrees as his heart begins to race.   “what are you doing?   this is crazy.   you’ve lost your mind.   pull over.   i said PULL OVER!”   he doesn’t raise his voice often,  but he’s losing sanity and can’t help it.   is she planning on crashing the car?   he wouldn’t put it past her.   “helena,  slow down.   there’s other cars in the street!   slow down.   what the fuck?!”   he generally hates being the one in the passenger’s seat,  but now…   he’s certain this is how he goes —   all because he got in the car with an insane person.   “give me that fucking thing.   pay attention to the road!”   he unceremoniously snatches her phone,  his left hand grabbing the steering wheel because he doesn’t trust her one bit right now.   “pull over,  i’m getting out.   PULL.   OVER.”

"and it's crazy how you really are the poppy wright DEFENSE attorney." a dry laugh emits. "if she slapped me in the face, you'd have all sorts of defenses even then... 'oh, judge. it's just because she doesn't trust easily!'" mocking him, he makes her head absolutely ACHE and her stomach twist and turn deeply in disgust acting like this. "of course i'm going to talk things–" trying to fight back the urge to curse as angry tears well in her eyes– quickly swiping them away, but forget that, he just gaslighted her ONCE again. the pulse in her neck quivering, throat hardening, before exploding, "of course i'm going to talk shit," forget trying to hold back and saying 'THINGS', "when someone treats me like shit! i don't need to be revoltingly guilted by you for not being a 'girls girl' once it gets to that point. i won't let anyone treat me like shit, whether you like it or not. whether you accuse me of bullshit like that or not. and you... you're such a liar. when i know for certain they say things. you're trying to guilt me all while LYING, alex?!" what kind of terrible game is he trying to play with her? it's flabbergasting and insulting, how STUPID he thinks she is. to play like these girls are so innocent, trying to make her the villain while he in fact is aware he's lying. it leaves her staring at him wide eyed, angry and shocked like she doesn't even know who he is. it's no wonder her instincts had a funny idea about him, he's not that quiet nice guy he portrays so well. he wears a mask. "good idea. i should switch career paths all in order to diagnose what kind of mental illness i'm witnessing. you being a professional guilter, manipulator and a liar."

"doing what? sitting in my car? listening to you talking like a guy with a whole lot of issues? at least we're not on a vacation, sharing a bed right now." like in that picture his friend posted of them on instagram she caught a long time ago. "i told you that you project and now you go and repeat it like a toddler learning a new word because it MUST'VE hit a nerve. and now you entirely misuse the word so often, that it's criminal." rolling her eyes at how ignorant he sounds. "it isn't your POINT of view when it's just you being an accusatory ASSHOLE."

the fourth curse word spewing from her tonight, sounding foreign coming from her voice but who cares about being polite and put well together when inner fury and rage is boiling her blood. no one has ever pushed her so far off the edge like this. heat slithering up her back in hot waves, pooling in her cheeks– temples throbbing. unable to take all of these accusatory and untrue comments, being twisted like she's the one in the wrong from his clique to him making her feel like it's her FAULT why harry treats her the way he does. all at the wrong time he's offering they go visit sarah and harry... of course her ANGER thinks first before anything else. "fine!" mustang is already started and humming, all it takes is helena's right hand to fly to the gear shift and her foot stomping the acceleration to make it growl alive as the car takes off. "two things at once?" how twisted is he to say something like that to her? "i'll show you three things at once then." how to drive chicago like a speed demon without getting caught. let's see who needs control now as the speedometer climbs to 45, 55, 65... let's SEE WHO is controlling. picking up her phone while she's driving and speed still races to the next digit, going to a specific app while she's at it. typing in sarah's name to get her address since she's going to need it.

[pallases]

moodboard

[newdejavuu]

.