Smiling While Your Coworker Is Eating A Banana, That's Sus...

THAT WONKA FIC WAS SO GOOD WTF DJRVJEVFJS I’M FOAMING AT THE MOUTH SO SORRY FOR ALL CAPS ITS MY FAVORITE WONKA WORK IN THIS WEBSITE NOW 😭😭😭

THANK YOU OMG???? IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!!! <33

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖.

m.list | next

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, black market, mentions of depression. Tell me if there is more

Dinas hands are stained with the powder white of flour, the pale dust clinging to her skin as she kneeded the dough. Her fingers worked in a rhythm only she knows while humming a tune like a songbird. Pressing, folding, and rolling as the yeast rose beneath her warm hands working skillfully. The bread brought a sweet scent into the house giving it the aroma of a bakery—it would've gave her mother a large smile as she joyfully watched with her eyes sparkling. But today, Dinas mother was in her room weeping, the house so silent the only thing she could hear was the crackling of the fire.

As Dina continued to knead her mind kept wandering to the black market, knowing she would have to trade a loaf for atleast a pound of cheese cloth to finish her reaping dress. Food went for higher value in district twelve than any fabric that had been used before the dark days happened. But she couldn't complain—she couldn't afford to. Not with everything crumbling before her eyes.

Meanwhile, across the street at the millers carpenters shop, Ellie was working, the rhythmic sound of a hammer striking wood echoing in the air. Dina often caught glimpses of her during her bread making through the window—the way her strong, muscular arms moved with precision, the way her leather apron fit her like a second skin. Ellie was more muscular than other working women in the district, Dina only having slight muscles because of kneading bread dough from 6 am to 8 pm—but that didn't phase her much because of how scarce food is and having someone to fix something for you was.

Ellie worked hard, some people say she worked harder than others. Her chisels, and hammers always in motion, creating whatever was necessary to trade for food. She was the one who kept a watchful eye out, the one who made sure Dina didn't take too much risk with her dealings in the market. But as much as she cared for Dina, Ellie never sugarcoated the truth about the reapings, trading, or the hunger games.

When the pairs lunch break came, Dina walked over to the millers shop, wiping flour off her shoulder as she knocked on the door frame. Ellie barely looked up as she grabbed a few pieces of wood to sand, the noise of the shop humbling their conversation to a hushed murmur.

"Got bread for the trade today" Dina said leaning against the doorframe holding up her sack holding the loaf.

"Good." Ellie muttered, her eyes narrowing on the wood as she carefully smoothed the surface. " you know that black market guy isn't gonna give you anything decent for it, right?"

Dina placed the bread parcel down and shrugged, trying to hide the way the thought weighed heavy against her chest. "We need the cloth and my mother's not... Well." she trailed off, glancing back towards home. "She's not getting any better."

Ellie nodded, finally stopping the sanding to look at Dina. Her gaze softened, just a fraction. “I know. I know.” She exhaled, then turned her head slightly toward the front door, eyes distant. “I still can’t believe the Reaping’s so close. They say the Capitol’s watching even more closely this year. You think one of us is gonna get called?”

Dina hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but not enough courage to speak them aloud. " I don't want to think about it" her voice got low, making Ellie almost nearly miss it.

Ellie let out a quite snort. "Well, you'd better start thinking about it, because when your name gets drawn, you can't exactly just walk away from it. Someone's got to step up, Dina."

Dina didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. The unspoken truth between them was heavy enough. Both of them had been close to the edge for years, but the Reaping always felt like a final straw they could never seem to escape.

Later that afternoon, Dina made her way to the black market, clutching the still—warm bread wrapped in the parcel she just had shown Ellie earlier today. The stall she approached was tucked between two crumbling buildings, hidden away from prying eyes. A rough man with a scar on his neck and hands like calloused leather leaned against a table stacked with old goods from smugglers from the Capitol.

"You got the bread.?" he grunted, eying her warily

Dina nodded, holding it out carefully " I need cheesecloth."

The man grinned, showing a row of crooked teeth. “You know the price. For fresh bread, I’ll give you half a roll of cloth."

Dina bit back her frustration. She’d hoped for a little more. “Half a roll? It’s not enough to finish both dresses. I need enough to make a full dress for myself"

His eyes glinted with amusement. “You’re a girl who knows what she wants, huh? That’ll cost you double. I’m giving you a good deal, girl. Take it or leave it.”

Dina’s stomach turned. She had no other choice. She nodded, handing over the bread.

When she returned home, she found her mother sitting at the table, eyes vacant as she stared at the half-empty plate of food in front of her. The sight broke Dina’s heart every time, but she had no time to linger on it. There were dishes to wash, firewood to gather, and a hundred other things waiting to be done. She could hear the faint sound of her mother’s sobs from the next room as she fed her, spooning soup into her mother’s mouth as she barely managed to swallow it.

When Dina finished, she hurried to get ready for the Reaping. The tension in the air was unbearable, thick and choking like smoke. Even though the draw was still hours away, it felt as though everyone in the district could sense what was coming. The Reaping was always a grim affair, but this year, it felt heavier.

Dina sewed the last buttons to her dress, standing back to take a good look she sighed—not because it looked bad, but only because it was a inch shorter than how she wanted it. But she couldn't care, because at 1pm she'd have to be dressed and ready for the reaping.

The day of the Reaping arrived, and the air was thick with dread.

Dina stood beside Ellie in the town square, surrounded by hundreds of others who were trying to pretend they didn’t feel the cold, suffocating weight of the Capitol’s presence looming over them. The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, calling for silence, and everything stopped.

The names were drawn.

" DINA WOODWARD"

Dina looked around, her heart beating in her cheat and a stone in her throat. She couldn't believe it but she had to, she needed to go.

Walking towards the stage to the pale makeup Capitol lady she stood looking at the other tributes, they paid her respects to her by placing three finger to their lips and up towards the sky.

" now for the one boy tribute"

" ELIJAH MADISON"

she knew Elijah, he was just a meekly 12 year old boy. She couldn't believe it, a choked up sob almost came from her throat but she had to suppress it.

" I volunteer."

She heard from the crowd, district twelves searching around trying to figure out who the words came from.

Until Ellie walked up towards the stage standing beside Dina staring towards the crowd. That was against the rules but Dina didn't want to say anything until one of the Capitol announcers denounced this volunteerism.

The final goodbyes were harder than Dina had imagined.

Ellie was already in her room, while Dina was isolated in hers looking out the window. Her door opened as she saw her mother crying in tears speaking in the language only both of them could only understand.

Her mother’s lips trembled. “Dina…” Her voice cracked. She took one step forward, then two, and then she was in front of her daughter, kneeling awkwardly, as if her bones no longer trusted her weight. “My girl.”

Dina felt something snap inside her chest. “Don’t cry,” she whispered, even though her own eyes were welling up. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” her mother breathed, reaching up to cradle Dina’s face with both hands. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dina shook her head, eyes burning. “Mom—”

“No, let me say it.” Her mother’s voice broke. “You’ve been taking care of me since… since I lost the baby. And I—I didn’t mean to leave you alone like that. I just…” She let out a slow, aching sob. “I was drowning. And I didn’t even see how much you were carrying.”

Her mother nodded slowly, her thumb brushing a tear from Dina’s cheek. “You didn’t deserve that. You’re seventeen. You’re still a child. And I let grief steal you from me. I should have been there for you.”

“You’re here now.” Dina’s voice cracked as she gripped her mother’s wrists gently. “You didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I know that.”

Her mother leaned forward, resting her forehead against Dina’s. “I just got you back, and now—

“I’ll come home,” Dina said, though she didn’t know if it was true. She needed her mother to believe it. Maybe she needed to believe it too. “I’ll come home. I’ll fight.”

Her mother wept into her shoulder, her hands still gripping Dina like she was afraid to let go. “Promise me you won’t lose who you are in there.”

Promise me you’ll eat. Promise me you’ll try to get better. Even if I don’t come back. Please.”

Her mother swallowed hard, like the words were cutting her throat on the way out. “I promise.”

They sat like that for a long moment—two broken hearts holding each other in the silence between everything they’d said and everything they hadn’t. And when the Peacekeeper came to announce the time was up, Dina didn’t want to let go.

But she did.

Ellie paced the length of the goodbye room, jaw tight, fists stuffed into the pockets of her worn jacket. The Capitol had dressed her in nicer clothes, but she still wore her own—scuffed boots, threadbare hoodie, sleeves stained with sawdust and grease. She didn’t want to look like a tribute. Not yet.

The door opened, and Joel stepped inside.

He filled the room with his presence. Broad shoulders, sun-weathered face, and eyes that had seen too much. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, arms crossed like he always did when he was trying not to feel too much.

Ellie froze, then gave a shaky exhale. “Hey.”

Joel’s jaw twitched. “Hey, kiddo.”

She tried to crack a smile. “You pissed?”

“Should I be?”

“I mean… you always told me not to be stupid.” She tried to shrug it off, but her voice caught halfway through. “Volunteering for a twelve-year-old isn’t exactly smart, right?”

Joel walked toward her and stopped just a foot away. He looked at her like he was trying to memorize every inch of her face. “It was the right kind of stupid.”

Ellie’s eyes dropped. Her throat tightened. “He was just a kid, Joel.”

“So are you,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t mean I ain’t proud of you.”

That made her look up. “Yeah?”

Joel nodded. “You did what I would’ve done. What your mom would’ve done.”

A long silence stretched between them, thick and quiet and full of everything they didn’t know how to say.

Joel sighed, then placed a calloused hand on the back of Ellie’s neck, pulling her into a hug. “You listen to me, alright?” His voice dropped low, steady and warm like an anchor. “You get in there, and you don’t lose your head. You don’t start fights unless you know how to finish ’em. You don’t trust anyone unless they’ve bled for you.”

Ellie swallowed hard, pressing her face against his shoulder. “What if I can’t—?”

“You can.” Joel’s voice cut through the air like steel. “You’re the toughest kid I’ve ever met. You’re sharp. You’re scrappy. And you’ve got more heart than half the bastards who walk this earth.”

Ellie sniffed. “Kinda sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“I’m not.” Joel pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “I’m saying—no matter what happens—you ain’t alone. You carry me in there, you understand? You fight like I’m right behind you, watching your back. ‘Cause I am.”

Ellie’s lips trembled. She nodded once, then twice.

Joel pulled something from his coat pocket—a simple, worn carving knife. “Keep this with you. Not for show. For survival. You’ll know when to use it.”

She took it silently, fingers curling around the hilt like it had always belonged there.

A knock at the door made them both flinch.

Joel stepped back slowly. “Make me proud, Ellie.”

“You already are,” she whispered.

And then the door opened again, and the goodbye was over.

© this work is owned and written by fawnieangel, any copies of my work on any platform will get you reported and blocked.

oh have the turns have tabled.. we have lando folding in half this time because of oscar

oscar: “sei matto (you’re crazy)!” lando: folds in half oscar: “andrea is gonna be so proud of us!” lando: folds in half again

HURT MY FEELINGS

─── hockey player! stanford! dean winchester

warning! sexc time, p in v, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your willy), cheating

word count! 3.6k

the house is alive, practically throbbing with the bass of the music blasting from every corner. it’s the first big party of the semester, and everyone seems determined to start the school year with a bang. red solo cups are everywhere, laughter and shouts mixing with the pounding rhythm. the place is packed—too packed—and the air feels heavy, a mix of alcohol, sweat, and cheap cologne.

dean leans against the arm of the worn couch, matt, one of his hockey teammate beside him, laughing about some dumb summer story. his arm is draped casually around lana’s shoulders. she’s perched close to him, her hand tracing slow patterns on his chest, her giggle loud enough to rise above the noise. they’re surrounded by a circle of teammates and their girlfriends, the conversation flitting between summer internships, upcoming games, and the professors everyone’s already dreading.

dean’s in the middle of some half-hearted response about his internship when you walk in.

his voice stalls. he doesn’t mean for it to, but he can’t help it. his eyes zero in on you instantly, cutting through the haze of bodies and noise. you’re with kennedy, laughing about something as you make your way to the drink table, and damn if you don’t look like you just walked out of one of those stupid teen movies lana keeps making him watch.

you’ve always been able to turn heads. but tonight, it’s different. it’s like you’re doing it just to spite him.

lana shifts beside him, tugging his attention back. her lips brush against his ear, something flirty and suggestive spilling out, but he doesn’t really register it. she must notice where his gaze lingers because her touches grow bolder—her nails scraping his jaw, her lips trailing over his neck. dean forces a grin and leans into her just enough to play along, but his attention keeps drifting back to you.

you don’t look his way. not once. not even when kennedy’s eyes sweep the room, sharp and observant as always, like she’s daring anyone to come over and ruin your night. it’s almost impressive, really, how you’re managing to avoid him—or maybe you’re just lucky. either way, the distance gnaws at him. are you ignoring him, or do you genuinely not care that he’s here? he’s not sure which answer stings more or better yet why it stings.

hours blur by, the party growing messier as the night deepens. lana disappears at some point, off with her friends—or maybe to make herself the center of attention somewhere else. dean doesn’t care enough to track her down.

he spots you again at the drink table, alone this time. the crowd around you has thinned out, and there’s no kennedy to run interference. you’re focused on mixing something into your cup, your movements unbothered, graceful even.

before he can talk himself out of it, dean pushes off the couch and makes his way over. he doesn’t bother with subtlety; he walks up like it’s the most natural thing in the world, a cocky grin already tugging at his lips.

”real cute that you think being my leftovers is something to flaunt,“ he says, leaning against the edge of the table. his voice is low, teasing, laced with just enough snark to draw a reaction.

you glance up, caught off guard by dean’s approach. the music pulsates in the background, blending with the din of voices and laughter around you. your expression tightens momentarily, a mix of surprise and irritation flickering across your features.

"flaunting? please," you retort, voice laced with a sharp edge. "i'm just here to enjoy the party, dean. like everyone else."

his grin widens, though there's a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable, buried beneath layers of cocky indifference. "enjoying yourself, huh? seems like it."

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "believe it or not, i don't spend every waking moment thinking about you, dean. shocking, i know."

he hums, tilting his head like he's considering your words. "yeah? 'cause you walked in here like you had something to prove. all dressed up, laughing a little too loud, looking right past me like i don’t exist." his eyes flick over you, slow and deliberate. "almost like you wanted me to notice."

your grip tightens around your cup. "don’t flatter yourself."

dean smirks, leaning in just enough for his words to brush against your skin. "too late."

you scoff, shaking your head. "you really think everything is about you, don’t you?"

"well, in your case? it used to be," he throws back, smug and infuriating.

anger coils in your chest, hot and sharp. "yeah, until you screwed my best friend."

his smirk twitches, but he recovers fast, shrugging like it’s nothing. "what can i say? she was available. you weren’t."

your breath hitches, a sharp inhale cutting through the noise of the party. "you’re actually disgusting, you know that?"

dean’s grin doesn’t waver. if anything, it grows. "and yet, here you are. talking to me instead of walking away."

you linger, just for a second. long enough for dean to think you might actually say something else, might keep standing there and feeding into this back-and-forth, letting him push and pull at you like he always has. but instead, you just huff a laugh—sharp, unimpressed—and turn on your heel, walking away without another word.

that shouldn't bother him. it really shouldn't.

but it does.

dean watches you disappear into the crowd, his jaw tightening as irritation flares in his chest. he doesn't like being dismissed, least of all by you. so before he even thinks better of it, he moves, weaving through the throng of bodies, catching glimpses of you as you head toward the hallway.

"seriously?" he calls, dodging a couple making out against the wall. "you're just gonna walk away now?"

you don't stop, but you throw a look over your shoulder. "figured that’s what you wanted, dean. you got what you came for—riling me up. congratulations."

"see, i think you’re giving yourself too much credit," he retorts, tone laced with mock amusement. "not everything is about you, sweetheart."

you scoff but keep walking, shoving past some guy who’s too drunk to even notice. the hallway is slightly less chaotic, though the occasional group stumbles by, laughing too loudly, sloshing their drinks as they go. the noise is still there, muffled by the walls, but it feels different—more closed in, more personal.

dean catches up, grabbing your wrist just as another couple stumbles past, too wasted to care about the argument unfolding. you yank your arm back, glaring up at him.

"don’t touch me," you snap.

his jaw ticks. "then stop running away every time i try to talk to you."

you fold your arms, standing your ground. "oh, my bad, did you think i owed you a conversation? after what you did?"

dean rolls his eyes, stepping closer, challenging. "god, you love this, don’t you? pretending like you're above it all. like you don’t still think about me."

you let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "you're delusional."

another pair of drunk partygoers stumble past, eyeing the two of you with vague curiosity. dean barely spares them a glance before he makes a split-second decision.

before you can react, his hand wraps around your wrist again—not harsh, just firm—and suddenly, he’s tugging you through a half-open door.

"dean—"

the door clicks shut behind you, muffling the chaos of the party. the space is small, just a bathroom—dimly lit, slightly messy, the counter cluttered with empty red solo cups. the distant bass of the music still hums through the walls, but in here, it’s just the two of you.

"you have got to be kidding me," you seethe, crossing your arms. "dragging me in here like you have anything worth saying?"

dean lets out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair before looking at you like you're the one being unreasonable. "oh, come on. since when do you run away from a fight?"

you scoff. "since when do you think you deserve one?"

his smirk falters for half a second before it’s back, cocky and infuriating. "you act like i did something that wasn’t inevitable."

your jaw tightens. "are you actually trying to justify screwing my best friend?"

dean exhales, shaking his head. "i’m saying you act like i’m the only one who screwed up."

you blink, caught between disbelief and fury. "excuse me?"

"you think i didn’t notice?" he challenges, stepping closer. "the way you started pulling away? acting like i was just another thing on your to-do list instead of your boyfriend?"

your breath hitches, but anger surges past the shock. "that’s rich, coming from you. if you were so damn miserable, you could’ve broken up with me instead of crawling into bed with lana!"

"yeah? and you could’ve given a damn before it got to that point!" his voice rises slightly, his frustration cracking through the surface.

you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "so this is my fault now? unreal."

dean exhales sharply, gripping the edge of the counter, his knuckles white. "i didn’t say that."

"you didn’t have to," you bite back. "and you know what? i would’ve rather you just said you didn’t love me anymore. that, at least, i could’ve respected."

dean flinches, something unreadable flickering across his face before he masks it with another infuriating smirk. "yeah? that what you need to hear? that i didn’t love you?"

you swallow hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "did you?"

he doesn’t answer right away. his lips press into a thin line, his shoulders tense.

the silence is unbearable. you should just leave. shove past him, throw the door open, and let this be the last time you ever let him get under your skin.

but then, dean exhales sharply and shakes his head, muttering, "fuck," under his breath like he hates himself for what he’s about to do.

the next second, he’s on you.

his hands grip your face, his lips crash against yours, and for a moment—just a fleeting, reckless moment—you kiss him back. because anger and heartbreak and longing blur together, and you don’t know how to stop yourself.

your hands fist in his shirt, dragging him closer. he groans against your lips, deepening the kiss, like he’s been starving for this, for you.

and maybe, just maybe, you have too.

the kiss is hot and desperate, months of pent-up anger and desire pouring out. the back of your thighs hit the countertop as dean presses against you, one hand tangling in your hair while the other grips your hip. you bite his lower lip, eliciting a low growl from him.

"god, i hate you," you breathe against his mouth.

"yeah?" dean murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "show me how much."

your nails dig into his shoulders as he sucks at your pulse point. you arch into him, a soft moan escaping despite your best efforts. dean's hand slides under your shirt, his touch scorching against your skin.

"this doesn't change anything," you gasp, even as you tilt your head to give him better access.

he chuckles darkly against your collarbone. "keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

you grab his face, pulling him back up for another heated kiss. it's messy and rough, all clashing teeth and battling tongues. your fingers hook into his belt loops, drawing him impossibly closer.

dean's hands roam your body hungrily, like he's trying to memorize every curve. your hands return to his hair, tugging at it as you revel in the groan it draws from him. the bass from the party thrums through the walls, matching the pounding of your heart.

"fuck, i've missed you," dean mutters, his voice husky with want.

you hate how much those words affect you, how they make heat pool low in your belly. instead of responding, you capture his lips again, pouring all your frustration and longing into the kiss.

his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping them tightly before hoisting you up and placing you on the counter. you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, gasping as he grinds against you.

"dean," you moan, your head falling back against the wall.

he takes the opportunity to attack your neck again, leaving a trail of marks that you know you'll regret in the morning. but right now, you can't bring yourself to care.

your fingers fumble with his belt, desperate to feel more of him. dean's own hands push your skirt up, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

the rational part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, reminding you of all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. but the way dean is looking at you, with that mix of hunger and something deeper that you're afraid to name, makes it impossible to listen to reason.

"last chance to back out," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes searching yours.

you know you should. you know this will only complicate things, that you'll hate yourself in the morning. but the feeling of dean pressed against you, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, is intoxicating.

so instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer, capturing his lips in another searing kiss. "shut up and fuck me," you breathe against his lips.

dean groans, his hands steady as he slides your panties down your legs, stuffing the fabric in the pocket of his jeans. heat floods your cheeks, but it's quickly eclipsed by the growing need uncoiling in your belly.

his fingers find your slick folds, rubbing circles over your swollen clit. you moan, arching into his touch, and he groans low in his throat, the vibration sending shivers down your spine.

"god, i missed this," he mutters before dipping his head to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. his fingertips graze over your entrance, and you whimper, biting your lip to stifle a moan.

"dean," you mewl as he pushes a finger inside of you slowly, curling it in a way that makes you see stars.

"missed this too," he growls, picking up the pace of his ministrations. he leans in to suck at the sensitive spot on your neck where your neck meets your shoulder, knowing very well it's one of your weak spots. you gasp and dig your nails into his shoulders as sensation after sensation washes over you.

he adds a second finger, thrusting them both in and out in time with the pounding bass from the party outside. his other hand gropes at your breast through the thing fabric of your shirt and lace bra, tweaking and pinching your hardened nipple until you're writhing against him in pleasure.

"oh god," you whimper as an orgasm threatens to crash over you like a tidal wave. "de-dean!"

he must sense how close you are because he removes his fingers and stands upright again, licking his digits clean before shoving his boxers down just far enough to free himself. "wrap your legs around me," he rumbles against your ear before nipping at it with his teeth.

you do as he says, locking him between your thighs as tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. dean lines himself up with your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your folds. you whimper, digging your heels into his lower back to urge him on.

he captures your lips in a searing kiss as he pushes inside you, swallowing your moan. the stretch is familiar yet foreign, your body remembering him even after all this time. he stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours.

"fuck," he groans, his breath hot against your skin. "you feel so good."

you roll your hips experimentally, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him. "move," you command, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he doesn't need to be told twice. dean starts to thrust, setting a punishing pace that has you seeing stars. your head falls back against the mirror with a dull thud, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. he latches onto your pulse point, sucking and biting, adding to the marks you'll have to hide later.

the bathroom counter creaks beneath you with each thrust, the sound mixing with your muffled moans and dean's grunts. you're vaguely aware that anyone could walk in at any moment, but the thought only adds to the thrill.

you cling to him, your nails raking down his back as he sets a punishing pace. the anger, the hurt, the longing - it all pours out in the way your bodies crash together. it's rough and desperate, nothing like the gentle lovemaking you used to share. but right now, it's exactly what you need.

"god, i've missed you," dean mumbles against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. "missed this. missed us."

his words send a shiver down your spine, and you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. your tongues battle for dominance as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes you see god himself.

you can feel yourself getting close, that familiar tension building in your core. dean seems to sense it too, because one of his hands snakes between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit.

"come f’me, sweetheart," he commands, his voice rough with exertion. "come all over this dick f’daddy."

his words, combined with the dual stimulation, send you over the edge. you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your walls clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash through your body.

dean follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he empties himself inside you with a guttural groan. for a moment, you both stay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath.

reality starts to creep back in as the high fades. dean pulls out slowly, both of you wincing at the loss of contact. he tucks himself back into his jeans while you slide off the counter on shaky legs, smoothing down your skirt.

the silence between you is heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension. you avoid his gaze as you try to fix your hair in the smudged mirror, your mind racing with the implications of what just happened.

dean exhales, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to ground himself. you don’t look at him, keeping your focus on your reflection as you smooth your hair into place, willing your heart to stop racing. the silence between you stretches—too thick, too loud—until he finally speaks.

“so, what now?” his voice is quieter than before, rough around the edges.

you freeze for half a second, gripping the sink. then you let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “there is no ‘what now,’ dean. this—” you gesture vaguely between the two of you. “this was a mistake.”

he stiffens, his jaw ticking. “yeah? sure didn’t seem like a mistake a few minutes ago.”

you whip around; eyes sharp. “oh, don’t do that. i told you this wouldn’t change anything.”

dean shrugs, his smirk forced, like it’s the only armor he has left. “whatever you say, sweetheart.”

you glare at him, stomach twisting at the stupid nickname. but before you can respond, a loud knock rattles the bathroom door.

“occupied,” dean calls, irritation bleeding into his tone.

the door handle jiggles aggressively. “yeah, i don’t care,” comes kennedy’s sharp voice. “i know she’s in there, dean. open the damn door.”

your stomach drops.

dean sighs, running a hand through his hair before unlocking the door. the second it swings open, kennedy steps in, eyes scanning the situation in a millisecond. her gaze flicks between you—flushed, disheveled—and dean, still annoyingly smug. her lips curl in disgust.

“you have got to be kidding me.”

“kennedy—” you start, but she holds up a hand, eyes dark with disappointment.

“save it.” she turns to dean with a glare sharp enough to cut. “you’re a goddamn disease, you know that?”

dean smirks, unfazed. “good to see you too, ken.”

she rolls her eyes and grabs your wrist, tugging you past him. “come on.”

you don’t fight it. you don’t even spare dean another glance as kennedy pulls you into the hallway, the cooler air hitting your flushed skin like a slap.

and of course, because the universe loves to screw with you, the first person you see is lana.

she’s standing near the end of the hall, laughing at something one of her friends said—until she sees you. her eyes flick over your appearance, and something in her expression shifts.

you don’t stop walking. don’t even acknowledge her.

kennedy keeps a firm grip on your wrist as she leads you through the party, her pace brisk and furious. “we’re leaving,” she mutters. “before i actually murder him.”

you don’t argue.

because as much as you hate to admit it, she’s right. you need to get out of here. away from dean. away from the lingering heat on your skin and the mess you just made.

because no matter how good it felt in the moment, this—whatever it was—was never going to happen again.

breezy's notes: huge shoutout to my pookie bear dolly for letting me share a lil bit of stanford! dean and give him my own twist. hockey! dean is literally like 3 months old, but i finally decided to put him to rest aka post this. there is a bot that goes along with this, but i actually hate him and have to rearrange his insides (s/o justyce for that one) so he can act right before i release him to the masses. this was so much more than i expected to write but look at what happens when i actually lock tf in and do what i have to. RIP hockey! dean you were my first baby and ily

tags ⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭: @floralscented @deansbeer @aileenunfiltered @jasvtsc @honeyryewhiskey @florchids @bluemerakis @tortureddarkstar @figthoughts @ultravi0lence14 @misatxox @foolinthera1n @deansenvy @hoffmansgirl @eepwtf @lawboysammyy @jjmbbg @tinas111 @soldiersgirl @whisperingdaze @abox-of-rocks @starzify

oh yeah also rest in piss nixon

in recognition of the ongoing environmental challenges, i would like to talk about the keeling curve. which serves as a reminder of how human activity has shaped the planet's atmosphere. this graph tracks the rise in atmospheric carbon dioxide (co₂) concentrations from 1958 to today, based on measurements taken at the mauna loa observatory in hawaii. charles david keeling began collecting this data in 1958, and it remains the longest continuous record of atmospheric co₂. keeling's measurements revealed a clear upward trend in co₂, increasing from about 313 parts per million (ppm) in 1958 to over 400 ppm by 2013. this rise is largely due to human activities, mainly the burning of fossil fuels and deforestation. the curve also shows seasonal fluctuations, with co₂ levels higher in winter due to reduced photosynthesis and lower in summer as plants absorb more co₂. the keeling curve has played a crucial role in demonstrating the link between human activity and climate change, providing solid evidence of the effect of fossil fuel emissions on the earth's atmosphere. it remains a key symbol in the scientific effort to understand and address global warming, reminding us that the actions we take today will directly shape the climate of tomorrow. without recognition of this data, the global response to climate change would likely have been much slower.

also, one of the most significant factors driving the acceleration of climate change is the albedo effect. which refers to how much sunlight is reflected by a surface, with darker surfaces absorbing more sunlight and lighter surfaces reflecting it. this effect plays a crucial role in the earth's climate system, particularly in how energy is absorbed or reflected by the planet's surface. when it comes to ice and snow, they have a high albedo, meaning they reflect a significant portion of the sunlight that hits them, helping to keep the planet cool. however, as global temperatures rise due to climate change, ice sheets and glaciers are melting at an accelerated rate, especially in polar regions. this melting exposes darker surfaces, like ocean water or bare ground, which have a much lower albedo compared to ice. these surfaces absorb more heat from the sun, which in turn accelerates warming in a feedback loop. as more ice melts, more dark surfaces are exposed, leading to further warming, which causes more ice to melt, and so on. this is a prime example of a positive feedback loop in climate change. for instance, the arctic is warming roughly twice as fast as the global average, a phenomenon known as arctic amplification, largely driven by this albedo effect. as sea ice melts, it exposes the darker ocean underneath, which absorbs more heat, warming the region even faster. this has major consequences for global sea levels, as the melting ice contributes to rising ocean levels. additionally, as ice sheets shrink, they reduce the earth's ability to reflect sunlight, further amplifying the effects of global warming. the albedo effect is not limited to the polar regions. as forests, urban areas, and even deserts expand due to human activity, they can also alter the earth’s albedo. for example, deforestation, which replaces lighter snow-covered landscapes or forests with darker surfaces like soil or crops, can exacerbate regional warming. this feedback loop is one of the many reasons why the loss of ice in the arctic and antarctica is such a crucial concern. the albedo effect not only accelerates warming in those regions but also has ripple effects on global weather patterns, ocean currents, and even weather extremes in places far from the poles. i think understanding the albedo effect is essential for predicting future climate change scenarios and for developing strategies to mitigate its impacts.

let this years earth day be a reminder that the health of our planet depends on the choices we make daily. real change comes from consistent effort, not just awareness. let’s act like we have a future to protect.

fix leaks, take shorter showers, choose products made from eco-friendly materials and ethically sourced. make it a habit to flick off the light switch when you leave a room. grow a plant: even a small houseplant helps clean the air! carry a refillable water bottle (and only own ONE reusable bottle). swap bottled products (i've been using bar soap for a few years now!). buy almost everything second-hand (besides underwear, socks, mattress, helmets, and cosmetics). upcycle your old clothes: instead of donating, repurpose them into something new, like a tote bag or pillow covers. stop using paper towels and opt for reusable cloth napkins in the kitchen. choose products with no plastic packaging, make your own cleaners. walk and ride a bike instead of public transportation and cars!!! support local farmers: buy seasonal produce from farmer’s market to reduce your carbon footprint and support sustainable agriculture. and i know you've heard these suggestions millions of times but they can help you make a difference. small changes add up, and every little bit counts .ᐟ

i would also like to add with the passing of pope francis, (rest in peace), that he has been a vocal advocate for addressing climate change, making it a central theme of his papacy. his landmark 2015 encyclical laudato si' was a groundbreaking moment in the intersection of faith and environmental advocacy. in it, pope francis called for urgent action to combat the climate crisis, highlighting the moral and ethical implications of environmental degradation. he framed climate change not only as a scientific issue but also as a deeply spiritual and social issue, emphasizing its impact on the most vulnerable populations. in laudato si', pope francis criticized the excessive consumerism and exploitation of natural resources, linking these practices to poverty and inequality. he argued that the destruction of the environment is a consequence of a "throwaway culture" that disregards the dignity of human life. the encyclical urged individuals, communities, and governments to take responsibility for protecting the planet and to recognize the interconnection between all living beings. in 2023, pope francis expanded on these themes in his apostolic exhortation laudate deum, further emphasizing the need for global action on climate change. he referenced laudato si' as a starting point and called for greater collaboration to address the environmental crisis, especially in the context of rising global temperatures and the ongoing loss of biodiversity. laudate deum reaffirmed his belief that the climate crisis is not just an environmental issue, but a moral and spiritual one, requiring a concerted global effort to ensure justice for the poor and the protection of future generations.

thinkin about how BUCKY BARNES would use that metal hand on you in so many ways. fingering you to overstimulation with those cool, metal digits. those nipples hardening under the cold touch when his fingers meet them. that hand wrapping around your throat hard enough only to feel your pulse. lord save me i need him so bad ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

just started ep2...... eek

I CANNOT stop thinking about getting pounded against the wall by pyramid head, the only thing keeping you still against it so you don't fall is his big strong hand choking your neck soo tight that you could barely even breathe while your leg is wrapped around his hips and he's pistoling his fat veiny cock so deep inside of you with every hard thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix and exploring your tight walls with every rut of his hips against you, oh and it's big, it's long and so fucking thick it stretches your cunt so wide and open around him. He fucking ruins you and obliterates your poor little hole for anyone else that's gonna have you next so the only thing that your pussy would be useful and good for is his cock and his cock only, that's how much he stretches you and craves your hole, into a perfect match for his girth.

You're moaning and screaming but what's the point? It's not like anyone can hear you, you should’ve never let your curiosity get the best of you because who knows? Maybe no one is ever gonna see you again because he's gonna keep you there with him and fuck you and use your (his) tight hole whenever he fucking wants and feels like it to please himself, your his little plaything now, his little cum dump to fuck and fill with his load over and over again.

Easter falling on 4/20 again this year means all those old 420 praise it vines from 2014 are once again relevant

i just saw thunderbolts... wow... this movie is what happens when hr runs out of avengers and just starts picking names off a watchlist. five stars.