the effects of drinking alcohol

“I’m not drunk, you are” - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary : Reader never drinks alcohol, so obviously, the day she decides to taste some champagne, she’s quickly…Rather drunk. Bruce and his sons are fortunately there to take care of her…and to film her embarrassing moments.

I thought I’d write something a bit more lighthearted after I made some of you “cry” with this ;-). 

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You never drink alcohol. Never. You just don’t like the taste of most of the beverages. Champagne or wine, tequila or vodka, even just a light cider…No thank you. 

When you go out with Bruce, you usually drink a soda or soft drink, even just water sometimes. 

But tonight, at yet another charity ball, your mind was elsewhere.

You had done it again. It often happened, and you always regretted it. Always. But you just couldn’t help it. Sometimes, you just had to be a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers. It always got you in trouble, since your early days in school, to now, in an important and very public event.   

This time, you had been a sarcastic little shit full of witty answers to the Mayor himself. The man already had a problem with your family ever since Bruce decided to support Harvey Dent to become the new mayor of Gotham, and was probably one of the most corrupted people in the World…so, needless to say that, when he left you company, clearly upset, you knew your actions would have repercussions, consequences, and it stressed the hell out of you. Why couldn’t you just control that damn mouth of yours ? 

Bruce wrapped a reassuring arms around your waist, bend down to your ears and whispered into it : 

-Relax (Y/N), no matter what, I’ll handle it. As Bruce Wayne or as…the other one. 

You gave him a weak smile and shook your head. 

-I’m so sorry Bruce…I really try to control myself, but when people like that man complain about not having a fourth plasma screen, or shit like that, while the city is drowning in poverty, I just can’t help myself. More than usual. 

-I know. I don’t blame you. At all. I already told you dear, your big mouth is one of the thing I love the most in you. I always know that you’re honest with me, which is rare, and you don’t hesitate to tell me when I go too far or something…I really love your big mouth. 

He paused as you squeezed his hand lovingly, and added in a very low whisper : 

-I also like it when you use it for…other performances. 

And with a wink, he made you blush like crazy. You hit him without much force in the ribs, and he chuckled, taking a sip of his little glass of bourbon. 

You really appreciated his effort to make you feel better…but Mayor Hady was a dangerous man, and you couldn’t help but think that telling him that he was proof evolution could go in reverse was definitely not your best idea…Oh my god and you said so much worst. You made people around you laugh. He was humiliated…You started sweating a bit, and got stressed again, not being able to bear the thought that you might have put your family in danger. 

Bruce was really not worried, he kept all of the mayor’s actions monitored, and  discovered that Sebastian Hady wasn’t actually as dangerous as he loved to pretend. You didn’t know however, and in this moment, Bruce didn’t really think about reassuring you on that, because really, for him, all of this story wasn’t much of a big deal at all. 

Your husband got called by a bunch of old men that he knew, and you had absolutely no intention of joining in in the conversion, so you went to your sons, and ranted a bit about your latest mistake. They all laughed, loving your antics…

And that’s the story of how you ended up with a glass of champagne in your hand. Jason said it’d loosen you up some, and you definitely needed to get rid of some stress…So you drunk. 

Jay was right, the first glass did loosen you up. 

The second one helped even more. 

At the third one, Dick warned you not to drink more, as since you never drink alcohol, it could have quite an effect on you. 

He didn’t see you drink the fourth and fifth glass, as you got separated to talk to different acquaintances. 

When you felt Bruce’s arm go around your waist, you just slumped on him and he looked down on you, worried you might have fainted or something. 

You were drinking your seventh glass. 

You were also drunk as fuck. 

-Are you Ok ? 

Your husband ask in your ear, bending down to reach it as he was quite taller than you. Your looked at him with a serious expression, and said :  

-No Bruce, I’m not OK. 

-What is it dear ? 

You squinted at him, and pointed a finger to his face. 

-You damn well know it mister. 

-Please, enlighten me…

-You didn’t tell me. 

-…What didn’t I tell you ? 

Silence. You look at him with the expression of a child that is annoyed, and you push him a bit away from you, gesturing around you (working really hard on keeping your balance). 

-You didn’t tell me that it was a costume ball ! 

Bruce just stares at you as if you’re crazy, and quickly understand that you drank too much. He glares at Dick and Jason who are laughing in a corner while looking at you yelling, and they immediately stop. 

-Do you think I didn’t tell you it was a costume ball because…it isn’t one ? 

-Nonsense my beloved Bruce, look at those people, look what they’re wearing, it’s too…too…bourgeois to be their real clothes. It look more like a…masquerade kind of ball you know. I mean, look at her over there, she’s wearing something out of the Renaissance, for real. And look at that guy’s tuxedo, it looks like it’s made out of Gold…Wait, is it actually gold ? 

Before you could walk up to the man to ask him what his clothes were made of, Bruce dragged you away with him to a nearby corridor, out of sight and out of ears. You kept commenting the “awful choice of wardrobe” of the people present, and some heard you and got totally offended. Though, they knew who you were. You had a reputation to be too brutally honest sometimes…

-What are you doing Bruce ? …Are you ashamed of me because I’m not wearing an extra fancy dress that looks like it use to belong to Marie-Antoinette or some shit ? 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, as your sons joined you. Damian looked worried, but when you winked at him he let out a sigh of relief and awkwardly winked back. You smiled, and let out a loud burp. Ew. So much for a cute mother/son moment… 

-I’ll never be ashamed of you my love, but you are very drunk, I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself. 

-Tuh, baby, I can embarrass myself sober…Besides, I’m not drunk. I never drink. 

More chuckles from your sons. Tim took his phone out and started to record you making faces at the camera. He was so going to make an edit of that to show you later, and use as leverage when he’d want something and you’d say “no”. 

-Ok, I know that in general you’re very self-aware of what you are, and all of that. But from what the kids have been telling me, you drunk about seven glasses of champagne, and since it’s the first time you actually drink…

-Bruce, babe, if I was drunk, I’d know right ? I’m not…Holly shit honey, I didn’t notice before but, you look dapper ! Every men in this room should take example on you, nothing can go wrong when you wear a tuxedo. Well, except for Oswald Cobblywhateverhislastnameis. That man looks like a…penguin or something, with a tuxedo on. 

It was getting very hard for your boys and husband not to laugh, and when you started to breakdance to Beethoven, they totally lost it. People were starting to stare at the famous Waynes, all standing in the corridor, laughing their asses off while one of them was dancing to classical music…Minded, your dance move were on point. Especially since you wore high heels. Great balance. 

Bruce stood in front of you, his large frame shielding you from people’s view. 

-(Y/N), let’s go home, you’re drunk.

You stopped dancing, and turned to him with vivacity. You melted a bit when you saw his amused expression, it was so rare to see it on his face…But then, you remembered that he was totally wrong, and went to grab your handbag. 

-If I was drunk, could I make paper cranes ? Look. 

You took Bruce’s wallet out of your purse (how cute, you were keeping it for him), and got a hundred dollars bill out of it, quickly starting to work on your origami, sticking your tongue out as you were deeply focus. 

Tim wasn’t missing any action with the camera of his phone, and your other sons, even Damian, were almost suffocating because they laughed so much. Bruce just stared at you making a paper crane, a bit confused. He turned around too see that everyone was now staring at all of you, and some were even getting their phones out. He decided it was time to go. 

-Dick, go get the car please…Oh for god sake stop laughing like an idiot and get a move on ! We’re leaving, we gave them money, we won’t be missed. Come on, on we go. 

Still laughing loudly, your sons took the corridor to slowly exit the building. You were still making your paper crane when you felt your feet leaving the floor. 

-What are you doing Bruce ? 

-Carrying you back to the car. 

-But…Why ? 

-Because you’re drunk. 

-Look how flawless my origami is my sweet Bruce, do you think someone drunk could have done such a perfect paper sculpture ? 

-You don’t know how to make origamis when you’re sober baby…

You shrugged your shoulder, rolling your eyes as you mouthed the word “nonsense”, and tried to get out of his arms. He let you get back on the floor, but as you took a step, two…you lost balance and fell back in his arms. 

-Oh Bruce, the World is spinning…I think I might be a little sick, I feel somewhat dizzy and all…

He just smiled, and this time, when he took you up into his arms, you didn’t resist. 

**************

You fell asleep in the car, and Bruce carried you in the mansion with his strong arms. As soon as they entered the place, your sons ran to Alfred to show him the videos Tim took, and to tell him everything…Needless to say, that night was filled with laughter and plans to embarrass you later on. 

Bruce didn’t take part in the conversation, as he took you up to your shared bedroom. He laid you down on your bed, and took his clothes off, putting on some comfy sweat pants, leaving his chest bare, and moved back to you. With delicate hands, he took your dress off and…you kicked him in the face. He fell back as you sat up in the bed. 

-How dare you, you filthy animal ! I’m not an easy woman ! You can’t just take me home and take advantage of me ! 

A bit stunned, Bruce stayed where he was, sitting on the floor, and just stared at you as you were ranting. You talked like this for quite some times, and your sentences were making less and less sense, when you finally stopped to look at Bruce, still on the floor, not really knowing what to do. 

-…What are you doing down there hun ? 

-You pushed me…

-No I didn’t. 

-Yes, you did. 

-I did ? 

-Yup. I hurt my elbow. 

He was trying to guilt trip your drunk self, and it worked. 

-I’m so sorry honey, oh my god what woooops…

You tried to stand up to reach him, but you also fell, and ended up falling on him, your dress slipping down around your knees. Bruce caught you as best he could, and you both just laughed. How sweet it was to just laugh. Moments like this were so rare…And even though you were drunk, it was still enjoyable, and you’d remember it for a long time. 

-Oh my love, what am I going to do with you ? 

-Show me your amazing prowesses in bed ? 

He laughed. He gave up any prospect of sex as soon as he saw you stumbling around the charity ball, as he knew that you’d probably get too drunk…But your passionate kiss ignited a fire in his lower stomach, and he responded fiercely. 

Turned out though, he was right to not expect anything, as mid-kiss, your tongue stopped massaging his, and your hand stopped touching his body…You had fallen back into a deep slumber that you wouldn’t come out off until the next morning. 

**************

The next day, pictures of your husband carrying you to the car with the headline : “Bruce Wayne is a perfect gentleman…even when his wife is embarrassingly drunk” were on every newspapers. 

But you couldn’t care less as the biggest (and first) hungover you ever had was taking away all of your energy. It wasn’t all bad though, as the entire day, your boys and husband took amazing care of you. 

When you finally started to get better, right before their night patrol, Bruce showed you his “amazing prowesses in bed”, and enjoyed a quiet moment cuddling with you before leaving. Whenever he thought he couldn’t love you more, something came up, like you getting totally drunk and being hilarious, and he realized that he could totally fall for you even more deeply. 

You were too damn awesome. Even when “embarrassingly drunk”. 

Over the Years

Pairing: [Bucky x Reader x Stucky!friendship]

Summary: In which Bucky reminiscences his past and contemplates his future.

Note: Inspired by the song “7 Years” by Lukas Graham. Maybe give it a listen as you read this 2k+ fic.

Originally posted by closer-to-the-edge-of-glory

Once I was 7 years old, my mama told me go make yourself some friends or you’ll be lonely.

He remembered the day he met his best friend. It was behind an empty cabin at camp where a bunch of guys had grouped together to ambush Steve. It was strange really, he had never stood up for anyone before, not even himself, and yet he found the courage to fight a group of bullies for the kid that was smaller than everyone else their age.

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anonymous asked:

At one point in a post a while ago you said something about treating antifreeze poisoning with alcohol? Could you expand on that please??

Sure!

[At some time of night Google just starts throwing random emergency numbers into the search results, right? This isn’t just because of my search history…?]

But anyway…

Automotive antifreeze/coolant is the (usually) florescent green liquid in a car’s radiator that prevents it from overheating in the summer or freezing in the winter. A common main ingredient in this, and what we will be talking about in this post, is a substance called Ethylene Glycol.

(Fun fact: They also make “environmentally friendly” or “pet safe” automotive antifreeze out of a substance called propylene glycol. This is also a common additive in ice creams in the US. Tasty!)

Ethylene glycol itself is not super poisonous, or at least not much more so than regular alcohol. What the human body does with it, though, can and does kill without prompt medical attention.

When ingested, ethylene glycol causes some intoxicating effects, roughly on par with drinking alcohol. This can make it difficult to identify early on in poisoning, when those around the victim (including medical professionals) may mistake life threatening ethylene glycol intoxication for less dangerous alcohol intoxication. It’s also sweet, making it potentially easier to accidentally ingest (or slip into food…).

The body recognizes ethylene glycol as an alcohol (which, technically, it is), and tries to break it down and excrete it using the same enzyme pathway it uses for, say, vodka- one that starts with the enzyme Alcohol Dehydrogenase (ADH). This pathway works well for drinking alcohol, but can end up breaking ethylene glycol down into a very toxic substance called oxalate

Oxalate is a problem for 3 reasons:

  1. The process of creating it makes the blood very acidic (several acidic compounds must be produced first, causing a potentially deadly condition called metabolic acidosis)
  2. It pulls calcium out of the blood (calcium is important for normal electrical activity in the heart)
  3. It uses that calcium to make crystals, which can accumulate in body tissues (this is especially problematic in the kidneys, which eventually clog up and stop working)

Oxalate causes death by either metabolic acidosis, a bad heart rhythm from the low calcium levels, or by causing kidney failure (which if not caught in time can lead to high potassium levels which can also send the heart into a bad rhythm).

The treatment for ethylene glycol poisoning is to prevent oxalate (and the acidic compounds that come before it) from forming. One of the easiest ways to do this is to keep ADH busy by giving it something else to break down.

First-line treatment is giving ADH a drug called fomepizole. Fomepizole has few serious side effects and ADH loves it. If fomepizole is unavailable, however (even in hospital settings, its sometimes difficult to come by and generally expensive), another molecule, ethanol (the alcohol in alcoholic beverages), works the same way.

…But it takes more than a single drink to do this. Like, a lot more. And the side effects aren’t always fun.

In order to use drinking alcohol to prevent oxalate from forming, the person needs to drink 4ml of 20% alcohol (anything “40 proof”) per kilogram of their body weight. For someone who weighs 75kg, this would be approximately 300ml, or 6-7 shots. Then, every hour after that, they would need to drink an additional 0.4-0.7 ml/kg (approximately 1 shot) for approximately 3 days.

That’s a long three days, because unless there’s an NG tube (or way to improvise one) available, the person would have to wake up every hour to drink. Not to mention, alcohol can cause a lot of problems, the most serious of which include respiratory depression (not breathing enough) and hypoglycemia (low blood sugar levels). The person would have to be very closely monitored during this time, and breathing/blood sugar supported as necessary.

The process of using ethanol to keep ADH busy also greatly depletes vitamins B-1 and B-6. Since these are vitamins necessary to the breakdown of alcohol, lowered levels can mean a higher chance of alcohol poisoning during treatment.

R E F E R E N C E S

the fear of losing you // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles and Y/N can’t stand each other but as soon as one of them gets hurt their differences don’t seem to matter

Requested: yes

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: no 

Masterlist 

“All I’m saying is that maybe if you focused a little bit more on the unsolved cases instead of chasing after a girl, who quite frankly doesn’t love you back, you wouldn’t have so many red strings on the board!” Y/N huffed, sitting up in his bed and folding her arms across her chest.

“Sorry not all of us are heartless monsters like you.” He sneered.

“Fuck off Stiles!” She shouted. “You asked me to help you with this remember?”

“Well maybe it was a mistake.” He shot back.

“Maybe it was.” She reached for her backpack and slammed the door behind her. 

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Scars - Chapter 10

Reader x Yoongi

Warnings: Swearing, use of drugs

Words: 1,702

Chapters: 9 , 11

Masterlist

“Hmmm…baby, don’t go”, Jinyoung groaned as I tried to get up, “I have to silly, I need to go work, and no I can’t call in sick I’ve done it way too many times”, I slowly got up and out of Jinyoung’s grip, he moaned as I walked off to the bathroom. After doing my morning routine, i went back into Jinyoung’s bedroom and took of his shirt, “ugh baby, if you’re like that for any longer you ain’t leaving this room”, “i will be so shut up”, i said as i began putting on my dress.


“Could you help me?”, i asked as i was struggling to to the zip on the back, i didn’t hear a response instead i heard my zip going up and then felt arms wrap around my waist and pull me back, “why do you have to work (y/n)”. I turned in his arms and put my own around his neck, “well because i can’t live of you my whole life can i”, “i earn way more than enough baby”, “i know you do, but i still want to work. Anyways if i don’t leave now i’m gonna be late, oh and please remember to pick me up this time”, I’ll be late, remember to pick me up this time”, “i will”, he leaned down and placed small kisses all over my face and one final one on my lips.


“Miss me?”, i got up from the ground, put Kaias blanket back and started walking in the direction I came, “aww (y/n), don’t be like that”, I ignored him and walked as fast as I could once I could hear him running after me. “Baby…”, Jinyoung stopped in front of the pushchair, blocking by way, “d-don’t call me that”, I spat out. “Why not? You’re my baby”, “no I am not, and haven’t been for a long time”, Jinyoung cocked his brow and chuckled, he leaned forward before speaking, “does my little (y/n) not remember anything, I’m sure she still has my marks…”.


Ughhhh….”, Jinyoung moaned as he released inside of me. He got off me and leaned against the headboard, before he grabbed a spliff and went on to smoke. “Babygirl, i’m sorry”, i had my back to him, “i know i promised i would never do it again, but i wasn’t thinking straight when i saw that dick and you flirting, i thought you’d sleep with him”. Obviously that was his excuse, it’s not like he’s used it before! I kept my back to him, letting my tears soak the pillow, “(y/n)…”, he moved next to me and hugged me from behind, his spliff held out in front, “you know i am sorry right?”, i slowly, nodded my head, “i’ll take you out in a bit to show how sorry i am babe”, he said softly as he moved the hair outta my face with his free hand and placed a kiss on my cheekbone. He put the spliff to his mouth one final time before bringing it to my mouth, “here, it will make you feel better”, i clamped my mouth shit and moved my head backwards, but he carried on insisting, “it will stop the pain, go on”. I hesitated for a few seconds before i leaned towards Jinyoung’s hand and allowed him to put the spliff to my lips.


Jinyoung did take me out later, he made me wear a tight, a seriously tight dress, it was a black, backless, off the shoulder dress that he bought. “Jinyoung, where are we going, i thought we were going to eat” “we are, just after we stop by here”, i held on tighter to Jinyoung’s arm as he lead us down a dark alley. He did eventually stop when we were almost at the end of the alley, he stopped at a black metal door. He knocked loudly and waited.


I could hear mumbled music coming from behind the door, but soon was a lot more clear once the door was swung open by a large man, dressed up in a suit, “hey T-”, “shut up, he’s on the third floor”, the man had an unbelievably deep voice, “he’s pissed you’re 20 minutes late”, “well I have priorities…”,he turned and smiled at me.


Once inside Jinyoung lead me up sets of stairs to the third floor, he made me wait outside whilst he went into a room that stunk of cigarettes.


10 minutes had passed and I was getting bored, so I went back down to the bar and got a drink. It was quite a strong drink and took effect right away as I couldn’t handle alcohol well, and when I was drunk, I wasn’t really myself.

I walked out to where everyone was dancing, closed my eyes and just swayed to the music, even though what I was doing didn’t go with the beat. As I danced I felt arms wrap around me and pull me. Soon I was pressed against someone’s chest, I thought it was Jinyoung so I wrapped my own arms against his waist and rested my head on his chest, “hmmm”, I hummed and we swayed together.


My face was then lifted by his fingers and pulled towards his face, I couldn’t see him well as it was quite dark. “Don’t take so long next time baby”, I mumbled as I leaned forward and connected our lips. They felt a lot more rough than before and thinner, but I carried on, he deepened the kiss.


He was about to grab me from behind, but I was pulled back from him, I turned to see who had grabbed me, “HEY-”. I cut myself off once I saw a raging Jinyoung in front of me.


I was terrified, he was going to do it again, twice in one day, all because I fucked up.


Jinyoung didn’t do anything to the other guy, instead he dragged me out of the club. Whilst getting dragged to his car I fell, but he just continued to drag me, not caring that I was in pain.


The whole ride was quiet, all that could be heard was the car’s engine. Once we were inside his house, he just went straight to the kitchen for a drink. Whereas I went to the bedroom, trying to stay away from him as much as I could. When I got to the room I stripped and showered and told myself I would be fine.


As I just put my underwear on, I heard Jinyoung’s footsteps getting closer to the bedroom and soon enough he was standing at the doorway, he looked a lot calmer than before, but I didn’t let his facial expression fool me, I knew him too well.


“Hey”, his voice was soft, “h-hi”, I stuttered as he walked up behind me as I was looking in the wardrobe, I felt his cold fingertips move across my shoulders.


“How are y-AHHH”, I screamed out as I felt the tip of the blade slowly scrape against my skin, opening it up, he did it deep enough to leave behind a mark.


He tutted as he finished with the blade, throwing it aside, “I’ve left, what, seven now eight marks on you and you still don’t know who owns you”. As he spoke I felt blood trickle down my back and onto the wooden floors just like my tears. I sniffled catching his attention, “aww baby don’t cry”, he forcefully turned me around and cupped my face, “you know I don’t like doing this don’t you?”, I nodded knowing what he would do if I didn’t agree, “i am sorry baby”.


He then cleaned me up and did what he thought would make it all okay.


“Move”, I was looking him directly in the eyes, I couldn’t show him I was scared, “oohh..my little (y/n)’s speaking up”, he had a cocky smile on his face. Instead of speaking up I turned around once again and quickly walked off taking out my phone.


“Sweetheart why did you sound so panicked on phone”, my mother asked as she put Kaia in her highchair as we both began to set the table, “oh I was a little shaky because Kaia wouldn’t stop crying and well that set me off”, “awww (y/n), next time I’ll come with you okay”, I nodded and smiled. “Right I’ll go plate the food, go call your dad”.


“Mum this still hasn’t lost its touch”, I said as I stuffed my mouth with my mum’s butter chicken and rice. My mother smiled and just then the doorbell went. “I’ll get it”, I covered my mouth as it was stuffed with food, “at least swallow the food, I’m sure whoever is behind that door does not want you spraying your food at them”, I gave my dad my best blank face before swallowing my food and going on to open the door. I knew exactly who it was, I called them because I know they would keep me and Kaia safe no matter what.


“JUNGKOOK!”, I screamed as I saw him, “hey”, he chuckled as I grabbed him around his waist, “I missed you and your stupidity”, he said as he rubbed my back, I responded my slapping his chest. “Anyways get inside mum and dad will be excited to know you’re here”, he walked in, taking off his shoes and was about to walk into the kitchen before I stopped him, “oi give me your bag I’ll take it upstairs”, he threw me his bag and continued to the kitchen and I went upstairs and took Jungkook’s bag to my room.


As I was walking back down the doorbell went again and because I could hear my mum and dad conversing with Jungkook, I told them I would get it.


The second I saw who was behind the door, I didn’t know what to feel or what to do. Even after all that he’s done to me, he thought he had the right to turn up to my parents home. My eyes began filling up as I thought over what he did, he disgusted me.


“(y/n)……”.


Thank you sooo much for your patients and for 500 followers i really appreciate it and pleaseeee give me feedback :)



-Z

Molecule of the Day: Ethanol

Ethanol (C2H6O) is a colourless, flammable liquid with a characteristic odour under room temperature and pressure. It has numerous applications throughout many industries, and is also consumed as a psychoactive drug and stimulant.

Ethanol is one of the simplest alcohols, after methanol; it undergoes reactions typical of an aliphatic alcohol, such as Fischer esterification with a carboxylic acid (1), or Williamson ether synthesis, in which it is deprotonated and reacted with an alkyl halide (2).

Industrially, ethanol is produced from the phosphoric acid-catalysed hydration of ethene with water, which adds across ethene’s double bond:

Ethanol is also produced when yeast ferments sugars anaerobically. In the absence of oxygen, pyruvate is unable to undergo oxidative phosphorylation, so in order to regenerate NAD+, pyruvate is decarboxylated to form acetaldehyde, which is then reduced by alcohol dehydrogenase and NADH to produce ethanol and NAD+, which is then used in glycolysis to produce ATP for cellular processes.

Amongst many other applications, ethanol is used as an antiseptic; it does so by disrupting the protein and phospholipid structures of bacteria, killing them. Ethanol is also used as a solvent for many water-insoluble substances in organic synthesis or medicine. Being a flammable liquid that is easily produced, ethanol is also a key component of biofuel, which is largely produced from the fermentation of corn.

Ethanol is also consumed recreationally in the form of alcoholic drinks. Its physiological effects are generally associated with its binding to and activation of GABA receptors, which results in sedation, euphoria, and anxiolytic effects. However, upon consumption of large doses of ethanol, the central nervous system can become depressed, and asphyxiation may occur.

Originally posted by butteryplanet

So. A Niall who embodies ‘lucky in cards, unlucky in love’. But like, in a truly brutal way, because he’s been making fortunes since before he was of legal age to gamble, has more money than he could spend in several lifetimes (and he’s tried, okay – has bought cars, a yacht or two, watches, clothes, apartments, drugs, you name it) and has finally reached a point where he realizes that spending doesn’t make anything better. That material objects and a reputation as someone who’s got it all doesn’t cover anything up of fill up those hollows inside of him, because the losses he’s suffered cling to his insides. Are raw in Las Vegas noise and neon lights. It’s a brother who couldn’t stop with the drugs that Niall’s money bought them. A mother who passed away after a gruelling fight with cancer. A father who lost himself in sorrow, who no longer saw the world clearly, who couldn’t quite understand the changes Niall was doing for him, to show him that he could do better. Be better. Be that son he always thought he’d be when he was a kid.

Niall’s got his life as together as he can, now, which isn’t very together at all, but his surface seems alright. Isn’t a picture of a guy who’s got it all, but an image of someone who’s fought to be where he’s at. Someone who owns a successful hotel and casino in Vegas and knows every damn aspect of it. The staff, the guests, the facilities, the lot of it. There is a spa on the fifteenth floor, and a penthouse that is entirely his own, and a popular bar at ground level that promises classic rock. Rolling Stones. Pink Floyd. Acoustic versions of bone-rippling songs from the past, to sink into with alcohol and merriment. It’s Niall’s favourite place, apart from his home higher up in the building. His go-to place when papers are signed and the sky looks lonely because Vegas happens downstairs without it. Without him.

And it’s a Friday night and Louis is working the bar – is grabbing Jameson before Niall’s had the time to sit down at his usual spot at the end of the wooden counter, and Niall is settled. Fills up with companionship. Lets wounds within scab over, here, in friendly presence of a long-time colleague, and drinks in whiskey and surroundings. A bloke on stage, unknown, stealing attention from each table with long, skinny legs and enticing, barely-there flutters of eyelashes attached to closed lids. A man, singing his heart out through low, molten flecks of syrup. Vowels drip right out of him, become light and soar like smoke in the air moments later, and the room’s never been so in love before. Neither has Niall, because he doesn’t want to lose anyone else.

He doesn’t realize that the Earth keeps spinning, moving, rotating with the galaxy through space and time until Louis stops his thoughts from rushing in the opposite direction with childlike, infatuated enthusiasm, humming an agreement of, “Mhmm,” and preforming a wiggle of understanding eyebrows. He’s impressed as well, with the star that’s snuck through the sky and landed on their stage.

“How did he do that? There’s not – ” Niall stutters. A scratch on the stage, on the building, out on the street, he wants to finish. Maybe one on my heart. A shocked crash of a hello to startle it back to life. Hi, here I am, I collided with you. “I haven’t hired him.”

Louis refills his glass – alerts Niall through that gesture alone that the thing burning upon his tongue and in his throat isn’t his heart burning itself; that Niall’s just downed his liquor. “Liam did, after I’d made you swear to delegate some of your workload. You can thank me with a raise.”

“Yes,” Niall says. “No – no. This is bad. It’s gonna be bad.

“He’s brilliant,” Louis points out, in cahoots with an audience that chimes in with its cheering for the supernova in the room, the explosion of minds and hearts as the last notes of Starman are sinking into appreciative walls. The world is fucking ironic. Niall’s not amused. Is already feeling the effects of the alcohol – doesn’t drink much, these days. Not with Greg’s old sobriety coin in his back pocket, heavy with guilt and reminders. With lost love and the desperation to never ache that badly again – to never think that he can mend those wounds again, to give that shit another try.

“He is,” Niall agrees. The whiskey cheers. His stomach’s jittery. “It’s bad.

But it’s not like he can fire the guy. He wants to. Has the position and right and mind to, but his lips are going numb by the time midnight has come and gone, and this won’t work out turns into where have you been all my life and they keep drinking until the morning. Talk about music. About youths spent in London, in Camden, in daydreams of taking over the world. Talk about careers not working out, of people met never to be seen again, lost in rushes to go places. Wonder aloud how they both ended up here – how they’ve both taken whiskey from the bottle Louis left once he’d closed up the bar and dropped more and more of their professionalism down the neck of it. And Niall doesn’t care, just wants to talk more and more until that natural rasp of Harry’s voice has become something decadent enough to truly belong here. To stick around in Vegas air and locked in secrets of drunken fuckups. To never want to leave.

It spins on after that; the planet, the galaxy, Niall’s mind and heart and tongue as it talks. Says the most idiotic things to a Harry Styles who only laughs back as though Niall is charming. A Harry who blushes no matter how many times Niall praises his work, his talent, the artistry that runs in veins and fingertips and – which Niall doesn’t say – makes Niall feel beautiful whenever Harry rubs a hand over his shoulder, side, or back in appreciative friendship.

And there’s protection to find in their positions. A boss and his employee, being a bit too friendly, maybe, but still nothing that can’t be swept away with jokes and laughter because that’s how it goes around here. Friendships that tie everyone from the bar to Niall’s front door together and make this place so fucking successful.

But then there suddenly is more. Is a searing kiss. Wandering hands. Lost breaths that make the hollows inside of Niall burn before they’re soothed over by the sounds Harry make into his mouth. Clothes discarded, personal rules broken over and over again as an elevator brings them home, into bed, into bliss and a brand of desire that will burn Niall down to the soles of his feet.

Harry’s slim, but broad. Has a waist to dig fingers into. Kisses like he means it more than anything he’s ever sung over strange heads and into Niall’s chest. He touches Niall with feverish want and fills him up until the world scatters around the edges of Niall’s vision, and he hasn’t felt like this before. Has never been so happy and desired and scared in his life, and he can’t tell Harry that he loves him, after. After night upon night spent talking about their lives, confessing secret desires and stories suffered and daydreams reflected in the other’s eyes. Can’t say it, because he’s lucky in cards, and Harry’s not one. Harry’s a star. A world. Is everything but a game, so Niall would lose him if he said it.

(Only, after weeks of mind-blowing sex and Niall being a martyr, trying to let Harry go to give him a shot at proper love, after Harry breaking down in a heap of shouts and emotion and consequently breaking Niall’s heart, too, he says it in a rush of terror and want and is rewarded with Harry in his arms,  with Harry sinking into him, into chest and bone, into hollows and wounds that won’t ever heal fully but that seem to beam from inside of him as though the memory of his family is proud of him, and HAPPILY EVER AFTER STUFF.)

Kitten pt 6

Bruce’s POV

“Alfred!” I yell. I need to find her. He probably knows who I am now. But I don’t care, (Y/N) is more important.

Alfred comes in the room as I’m changing into the Bat-Suit.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred announces his presence. “The Joker took her, his whereabouts are unknown, however, he’s supposedly going to make an appearance at his club tonight.” He says.

“Thank you Alfred.” I say back as I push a button on the wall. The Batmobile’s engine roars to life and I hop in. “I’ll find her Alfred.”

“Master Bruce, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” He speaks softly.

“I know.” Was all I said before I floored it out of the BatCave.

—————————-

Jokers POV

‘You know the Bat is probably gonna show up at the club tonight right?’ the voice in my head says.

‘He’s probably already on his way if he’s not already there,’ another says.

I growl at the voices in my head that won’t shut up. Yeah I know he’s probably going to be there. But that just makes it all the more fun. I grin just thinking about the expression on Batsy’s face when he sees his beloved innocent little girl with me in that tiny dress.  Maybe I’ll get her drunk; I want her to be all over me when Batsy shows up.

‘Oh I like that,’ one voice says.

‘Yeah, break his spirit; maybe let him know that you deflowered his little princess,’ says another.

‘Get his hopes up that’s he’s gonna get her back and rip his heart out when you disappear with her,’ says yet another.

I laugh at the conversation that just unfolded in my head. (Y/N) just looks at me because of the sudden outburst.

I enjoy how innocent she is. I grab her arm and escort her outside.

———————-

(Y/N) POV

Joker takes you outside and that’s when you see the most beautiful car ever. You gasp when you see the purple Lamborghini sitting out front.

“This car is beautiful!” you squeal. You run your fingers across the body as Joker opens your door for you.

“Thanks doll,” he says, shutting your door after you get in.

He goes to the driver’s side and gets in. He starts the car with a grin as the engine purrs.

He puts it in gear and speeds out of the driveway, taking a sharp turn on the road to the club.  He speeds through the streets, passing people, cutting people off, and scaring a middle age man half to death when he had to leap out of the road.

You’re clutching your seat terrified while Joker laughs like a madman. You finally arrive at Joker’s club and he helps you out. There’s a line down the block of people waiting to get in. Joker takes hold of your wrist and pulls you throw the crowd of people by the front entrance, you can feel everyone’s eyes staring at you with him.

Joker pushes through and leads you to a booth up the stairs to the VIP lounge and sits down on the leather seats, pulling you down onto his lap. You blush and try to move off of him but he grips your hips tightly and prevents you from moving.

He orders two drinks and nibbles on your shoulder as he waits. The waiter comes back and sets them down on the table in front of the two of you. He picks one up and hands it to you.

“I-I’m not old enough.” You decline.

“I wasn’t asking,” he growls.

You cower a bit and accept the drink. You’ve never had bourbon before, so you smell it first and it smells strong and bitter. You shake your head and down it in one go. You cringe as the alcohol burns all the way down.

Joker looks at you and grins. “What’s the matter sweet-cheeks? Don’t like it?”

You shake your head as the bitter taste finally begins to fade. “I prefer sweet to bitter,” you grumble quietly.

He orders you a “screaming orgasm” and grins at you.  You blush and look down, already knowing what he’s thinking about.

A waiter comes back with your drink and a tray of shot glasses full of what you think is tequila.

You take your drink and sip it. ‘I think he’s trying to get me drunk,’ you think to yourself. You shrug and finish off your drink as you begin to feel the effects of the alcohol coursing throw you. You throw caution to the wind and grab two shots. You down them both and cough as the harsh drink burns your throat. Your head is spinning and you want to dance.

You begin to sway a bit, still on Jokers lap. He places his hands on your hips to steady you and you smile. You grab another shot still smiling as you drink it, the burn not as intense anymore. You go to stand but Jokers grip tightens. “Where do ya think you’re goin kitten?” he purrs softly in your ear.

“I wanna dance,” you smile as you try to get up again, this time he lets you.

“Fine but you’ll dance for me.” He growls.

“Okay,” you smirk at him as a particularly provocative song begins to play. You know this song; it’s one of your favorites.

You gracefully sway your body to the beat of the music; you play with the hem of your dress pulling it up a bit to show off more of your legs. Joker grins and watches you.

You run your hands up your body and through your hair as you sway your hips. You spin around so your back is facing Mr. J, you shake your ass and drop down, you come back up slowly and slap your ass in front of him. He chuckles softly and you spin around again, facing him. You drop again with your legs open, your hands resting on his thighs. He growls and you bite your lip, moving your hands up his legs, you straighten your legs back into a standing position, still leaning over Joker. You straddle his lap and grind against him.

You run your hands up his chest and grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him closer and crush your lips against his while rocking your hips back and forth on him. He purrs against your lips and slides his hands up your hips and squeezes tightly. You let out a small moan and he slips his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck and press you body against his.

You continue your make-out session unknowing of your father’s presence. He’s lurking in the shadows of the club watching the events unfold right in front of him. His beloved daughter was dirty dancing, grinding on, and kissing the Joker. The one who took you from him. Batman clenches his fists and emerges from the shadows and stalks towards you and Joker.

“(Y/N)” he says in a low voice.

You snap your attention to the familiar voice that called your name.

“D-dad?” you whisper. You stand up to run to him but Joker wraps his arms around your waist tightly, preventing you from running.

“Well what do we have here?” Joker laughs. He pulls out a gun and points it at the bat. “Enjoy the show Dad?” he laughs again.

{PART 2} I Can Save You // Jay Park

Originally posted by lavender-kills

Pairing: Jay Park x Reader

Genre: Angst // Drama // Fluff // Smut {RATED MATURE}

Summary: The night continues with you and Jay, you becoming drunk and opening up a little too much.

A/N: Please be aware that this scenario contains mentions of emotional abuse, alcohol, prostitution, depression and family matters.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}


“What brings me here? I’m here to help you relax honey, now why don’t you let me get you a drink and you can tell me more about yourself?” you softened your voice, giggling innocently and tapping Jay’s arm with your index finger, trying to regain a firm grasp on the direction of the conversation. It’s not that you thought there was anything particularly dangerous about Jay, but something about him made you feel uneasy. You had been working at the club just shy of two years now, and not once had a customer made you feel this way with his looks, charm and questions alone.

Jay smirked, letting his lips curl up on the left side as he gestured to his empty water glass. “I’m not drinking tonight so – just water is fine” he replied, his voice as smooth as velvet as he turned his head back to you. Without meaning to, you chuckled nervously and cleared your throat before you flagged down one of the topless hostesses that walked around the club taking people’s orders.

“Chanel, can I get a jug of water with some lemon and a whiskey on the rocks? Add it to table 12” you smiled at her as she winked at you and Jay, playing the game that you all played so very well.

“Gentlemen, would you like some more drinks?” you turned around to face Simon and Loco, who were each giving their undivided attention to Pixie and Sugar. Pixie flashed her eyes at you, before leaning into Simons ear and whispering something, to which he nodded, trailing his hand down her arm as she smiled into his face. Loco ordered another beer, while Simon asked Pixie to choose for him.

“He wants to do some Jaeger bombs~ and get us a bottle of house wine too” she giggled in his lap while simultaneously adding to her commission fee with the drinks he ordered. You sighed slightly – knowing that this was typical of Pixie to do, before turning to Chanel and relaying the message.

“Aight Babydoll. Oh! And by the way, happy birthday girl!” She said to you cheerily, before strutting off towards the bar, her ass cheeks on full display as she went. You sat down comfortably in your seat, before you turned back round to Jay to get him to talk some more.

“It’s your birthday?” he asked, his eyebrows raised as he parted his lips in anticipation. You smiled back warmly at him, scooting yourself up closer so that your thigh was brushing his slightly.

“Yeah it’s my birthday today~ So…as my present, you should let me know everything there is to know about you. You’re Korean right? But your accent sounds different from your friends?” you asked carefully as to not make it seem awkward or that you were questioning his heritage, you were just genuinely curious. Jay nodded at you as he interlocked his fingers on his lap.

“I was born here, in the states. I grew up in Seattle and when I was a teenager, I moved to Korea under my mother’s orders” he chuckled, watching your face light up a little at the mention of his mother.

“Ahh, so you’re a momma’s boy then?” you purred flirtatiously, softening your eyes before Chanel came back with your drinks.

“Oh babydoll, Key said this one is for the gentleman, on the house” she added as she set down a bottle of pink champagne with two glasses for you and Jay -  to which he squinted his eyes a little at. “Who’s Key?” he thought to himself as you took the champagne bottle and popped it open, letting the foam bubble up and drip down your hands on to your thighs – a common act to get men riled up that you did so frequently.

“Ooops! Could you help me Jay? I’m so clumsy~” you said innocently, flashing doe eyes at him as he swallowed hard – Loco and Simon now looking over at you and Pixie and Sugar rolling their eyes at your party trick. Jay knew exactly what you were trying to do, as he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and began dabbing it on to your skin, soaking up the foam as he diligently cleaned you. Usually, men were a mumbling, fidgety mess as they did this, but Jay was as sober as a judge and completely confident in his actions which took you so far aback.


The night continued with the whole table sharing the champagne, Jay not touching it once as you tried to continuously flirt and make him feel like the most important man alive, to which he merely shrugged it off and let you do most of the talking. You began to feel the effects of the alcohol – you not being used to drinking so much as you drank Jay’s share of the champagne.

“Don’t you think you should…take it easy? You’re pretty wasted right now” Jay chuckled as you drunkenly lay your head against his shoulder, interlocking your arm with his as you gave him the real ‘drunk girlfriend’ experience.

“Oh yeah? And who’s gonna stop me…you?” you looked up at him and poked him on his nose, making him smile and giggle a little at your childish antics. He repositioned himself, letting you get more comfortable on him while keeping his hands to himself. Usually, if this situation arose, your customers would take this opportunity to run their hands all over you, but Jay had other motives in mind.

“So if it’s your birthday, what age does that make you?” he said softly into your ear, his lips inches away from your skin as you mewled lightly into the crook his neck.

“Mmmh, what age do I look, Jay?” you asked, your eyes full of devilish charm as you admired the several small star tattoos that littered his collarbone and neck area. Jay felt a slight sweat come over him, looking down at you and trying to guess your correct age. You had dark, smoky eye makeup, red cherub lips and you were contoured to the gods, so guessing your true age would have been difficult for any person.

“I’m not sure, but maybe…23? 24? I’m sorry if I’m- ” you cut him off before he could say anything else.

“Uh uhhh! Wrong!” you said as you found the energy to climb up and on to his lap, straddling him as you rested your arms on either side of his shoulders. You took a look at his chest through his white t-shirt, being able to see the faint outline of his tattoos underneath. Jay stiffened his entire body under your touch – feeling you so close to him as his hands primitively found themselves resting on your waist, steadying you in your drunken adventure.

“I’m…21 today” you whispered in his ear. Jay felt his heart sink, but not because you were 8 years younger than him.

“I see~ And how long have to been working here?” he whispered, dreading the answer you were about to give him. Usually you would never open up so much to a customer – especially not a new one. But you were drunk – and being this drunk was more than often dangerous in your profession.

“Uhh..2 years now? I was at college to become a…music producer or something. But that went bust. Anddddd~ now I’m here sitting on your lap” you slurred, giggling into his face as you stared at your reflection in his eyes. You knew deep down inside that things were going too far at this point, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Jay studied you, knowing now that you were so young and once full of so much hope and dreams – he thought about what could have happened to you to make you feel like you had no other choice than to walk this path? He felt the strings of your red lingerie underneath his palms, your heat radiating from your body on to his as he took in the smell of your cheap, sweet perfume and the aroma of your hairspray. He noticed the clamminess of your skin around your collarbones and chest, the rosiness of your cheeks – a clear indication that you definitely had enough to drink for one night.

“Is there somewhere we can go to relax? It’s a bit stuffy in here and you look like you could use a glass of water.” Jay spoke quietly into your ear, making your eyes light up. You didn’t think he would be the type of customer to ask you this type of thing – because this meant one thing and one thing only; sex.

You nodded at him slowly, winking before telling him to wait a moment. You got up, stumbling about in your high heels as Jay stood up after you, keeping you steady and helping you find your balance. You managed to squeeze yourself past the pillar once again, before calling over one of the hostesses to ask them to prepare one of the rooms.

“My guy at table 12 is asking for some ‘alone time’. Are there any rooms available?” you slurred quietly.

“There’s one, room 3. But babydoll, are you sure? You’re pretty fucked right now” she said, putting her hand on your shoulder as she looked at you seriously, to which your swatted her away playfully.

“No…but I’m gonna be fucked in a few minutes!” you joked back, making her laugh along with you as she nodded her head and began making arrangements for you. You turned around, seeing Jay talking to Simon and Loco.

“I’m gonna take Babydoll to get her sobered up a bit. I’ll be back soon” he said, his friends giving him thumbs up and winking at him to which he scoffed at them through his nose. You approached Jay, taking his hand from the back and linking your arm with his.

“There’s a room waiting for us, good sir. Care to follow me?” you purred, taking the lead and walking him towards the door at the back of the club next to the bar. On your way, you seen Key perched on his ‘throne’ at the front of the stage, looking at you and giving you a sly smile as he knew you were about to cash in big time for him. You pretended not to see him, as you opened the door clumsily, before Jay let you walk in first, holding the door while holding on to you in fear that you might fall. The music for the club became a little more drowned out as you stumbled towards the black, marble staircase that lead to the 2nd floor. Jay took one look at the staircase before looking down at your shoes – a pair of killer high heels.

“Do you want to take your shoes off? It would made the trip up the stairs a little easier for you.” He said, still holding on to you the way a parent would hold on to their child who was learning to walk.

“I’m a big girl, I can do some things myself you know~” you cooed back at him, taking on the steps and holding on to the banister half heartily. The whole way up the stairs, Jay was one step behind you, supporting you as you nearly fell to your death several times – of course you thought this was hilarious, almost dying from laughter at his precautious antics for you.


Upon reaching room number 3, you punched in the key-code before the door unlocked. You both stepped in as you were greeted by the familiar sultry lighting and the large mirrors in front of the four poster bed. Jay looked around the room before letting one word resonate through his mind. “Sleazy” – as he also took notice of the several cameras which were carefully placed in all four corners, high on the walls.

“Come here, sit~” you pulled Jay down on the bed before you began fixing your hair and letting him get comfortable.

“Before we start, I just wanted to check that you know the price, okay?” you asked him seriously. You were drunk – yes. But this didn’t mean you forgot that you were working either. Jay looked at you carefully, now realising what you thought he meant by going somewhere private. He let a small chuckle fall from his lips as he turned to face you completely.

“Babydoll, whatever men usually do to you in here – I won’t be doing that. But I’ll still pay you for whatever your price is. I just want you to cool down and sober up a bit so that you get home safely.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him before promptly gathering yourself and smiling politely. It wasn’t common, but sometimes you would get men who just wanted a sweet, girlfriend experience were you would just sit on their lap and kiss them, telling them how much you loved them and needed them.

“Oh…okay…well, was it a girlfriend experience you wanted? Not all of the girls like doing it, but I don’t mind it at all~” you tilted your head at him as you pulled yourself closer into his proximity. Jay chuckled once again, knowing that you just didn’t understand what he meant. He knew that it was probably uncommon for you to have a man in front of you, on a bed, with money in his pockets who didn’t want to bend you over and drill you from behind. Of course – he had thought about that many times this evening, but there was something…different about you. He felt a strange curiosity towards you, but most of all, he felt incredibly sorry for you. He felt like the wanted to help you.

“I don’t want anything from you babydoll. I just wanna talk and let you sober up – that’s all.” He replied softly, moving your hands away that were now on his lap, dangerously close to going past the point of no return. You jutted your head back, feeling almost offended at his actions and very, very confused as to why he was behaving the way he was.

“You…you just wanna talk? I mean, no offence but…why did you come to this place if all you wanted to do was talk? You could go to any bar in the city for free and do that” you replied sarcastically, not meaning for it to sound as harsh as it did, but you felt like this was a waste of your time. You technically couldn’t keep him in this room if something didn’t happen, and that meant no money for you – but more importantly, no money for Key either.

“Simon wanted to take Loco to his first strip club, and I came along to keep both of them in check. It just so happened that you came to our table and…to be honest… I just wanted to get to know you. There’s nothing wrong with being friends with someone in your line of work, right?”

Alarm bells immediately went off in your head, mixed with your drunken state. He was skirting around actually addressing your profession, almost like he wanted you to admit it yourself. “Why does he want to get to know me? To find out more about the club?” thoughts raced through your mind in mere seconds.

“Are you a fucking cop?” you stood up, backing away and watching his face become slightly irritated at you as you suddenly felt extremely trapped. You felt your back press against the mirror as Jay continued to sit on the bed, knowing not to get up and approach you in fear of startling you more.

“Listen to me, okay? I’m not a cop. I’m just a normal person. Is it so hard to believe that I just want to talk to you and not do anything sexual? You’re obviously a smart girl, so you should give yourself more credit” Jay sighed, taking his wallet out of his back pocket before placing it on the table in between you and him.

“If you still don’t believe me, you can take a look through my ID’s.” But your patience was slowly running out.

“Get out. I’ll refund you for your time. Just leave. Don’t come into a strip club and try to befriend strippers and girls like me to get more out of what you’re paying for.” You said harshly, your voice quivering as you pointed to the door, hoping that he would comply and you wouldn’t have to call for help.

“I’ll leave if you want me to. Don’t refund me anything, it’s your money. I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.”  He said as he took his wallet, pulled out a stack of notes before placing them back on the table. He stood up, bowing his head slightly at you as he walked over to the door and opened it.

“I don’t know you Babydoll, and you don’t know me. But what I do know, is that you’re better than this life. And if the help is there, you should take it. Take care of yourself.” His voice dropping on the last word, before slipping outside and closing the door behind him,

You stared at the door for the longest time, not knowing what the hell had just happened. You walked over to the money on the table, counting it out and seeing that he left much more than what was needed.

“$1,500…is he crazy?” you said out loud, before wondering how you were going to explain all of this to Key. And as if right on cue, a knock came at the door - following a voice that was unmistakable to any girl that worked in your club.

“Babydoll? Honey? You still in there?”

It was Key.

For Everyone To See

Written for @spectaculacular-sammy Birthday Challenge!

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3542

Warnings: public sex, rough sex, dirty talk, oral (Sam on Reader), brief fingering, no condom (reader is on the pill)

It’s 8:04 on a Saturday, and so far, all you’ve done is lie in bed and read The Monstrumologist for the third time that month. Dean’s abandoned you in search of food and someone to curb his sexual appetite.

You don’t really care about where Sam is at this point. The soulless beast – yes, you call him a beast – is nowhere to be found, and you don’t really feel like texting or calling his cell. He doesn’t answer anyway, or if he does, his tone is tense and angry.

There’s already enough negativity in your life, you don’t need the man you love being rough with you like that.

You need him being rough in another way.

Keep reading

Shy

Could you write one where where Harry really likes you and is flirty with you but you’re just awkward and shy haha so he tries to get you to open up to him and can it be quite fluffy please :))

—————————————————————————————————-

One thing you really liked about books is that they never made you nervous. You could curl up in an armchair with a cup of tea and your favorite novel and never have to worry about the novel asking personal questions or making you do something you were uncomfortable with.

You had always been shy and, although you had come out of your shell a bit since getting older, you still preferred being in the corner of the room rather than the middle. You were friendly, but not outgoing. You fit in well during conversations, but were never the one to start them. Having one-on-one time with someone you didn’t know very well was frightening. Heaven forbid someone ever flirt with you because you had no idea what to do in that instance.

How you ended up being dragged to a massive launch party in a swanky London club was beyond your understanding. You had been at home, minding your own business, when a friend of yours had called up and invited you.

“It’s gonna be great,” they said, “loads of important people.”

“Why in the world would I want to go to that? I’m not important!”

“Listen, I’ve got an invite because of work and I’m allowed to bring a plus-one. They didn’t give any kind of guideline as to who the plus-one had to be…”

“And everyone else turned you down, I suppose,” you said, with a smile in your voice.

“Super last minute on a Thursday night? Yeah, they did.”

You sighed, twirling a piece of hair around your finger, nervously. The thought alone of going to a party like this was already making you nervous and you hadn’t even committed to it yet. But, you had been trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone lately and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. Plus, it was a really fancy party; there were worse ways you could spend an evening, you supposed.

“Fine,” you sighed, “but I don’t think I have anything to wear.”

“Just pick a nice dress out of your closet, I know you have tons,” your friend said, “Trust me, you’re going to look dynamite no matter what you’re wearing.”

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It was a good night. A night worth celebrating, and that was not something Yuriy often did. Things have been pretty quiet lately. Some of his men rose up in the ranks. Earned their marks. How could he not reward them?
Yuriy was not a cruel man to the people that were loyal to him, and so here he was in a decently nice night club. Dressed in nice street cloths, including the rest of his men. None were the wiser over who they were.
So far the night has been pleasant. Plenty of drinks, a few good laughs. Yuriy highly enjoyed bonding a bit with the people that worked for him. It always seemed like they were less likely to stray, or betray him. Though it did make it that much harder to get rid of them when they did.
Yuriy let out a blissful sigh, taking a much needed step away from the crowd. Drink in hand he found a nice wall to lean against and watch the party go on without him. Sometimes playing in public could become so very exhausting to him. At least as far as he could see his men were having a good time. Many of them were lost in the crowd, away from his watchful eye but he knew they were there. He took another sip at his drink enjoying the odd burning as it went down, he wasn’t drunk by any means but he could definitely feel the calming effects of the alcohol in him from his previous drinks.

@blitzbomb

“Not just a blood bag”

😈VAMPIRE AU: TAEHYUNG X OC

Genre: FLUFF <3

Summary: Fluff with vampire Tae, but a little angsty (just a teeny bit) in between.

You knew that in your boyfriend’s world, people like your kind were never accepted. Hell, people of your kind weren’t even supposed to know that sort of world. It saddened you that you would probably never be able to see your boyfriend’s closest friends, or his family. It showed how that even though Taehyung loved you so much, there was a big part of him that was disconnected from you. You could never meet Taehyung’s parents, and have their full blessing if you two wanted to marry. His mother would never invite you to their house to have dinner together, and show you pictures of baby Taehyung. You couldn’t be that one cool girlfriend that was close to their boyfriend’s best friends, and hang out with them all together with Tae.

Even though there were so many reasons you shouldn’t have loved him, the one simple reason being that you loved him made you forget all of that.

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Socializing is like alcohol

I think for me, an INTP, socializing and being “loud” and “chatty” can be described like drinking. I’ve never had alcohol, so I can’t 100% accurately describe this, but I imagine it like so.

For me, talking and interacting with others can be super euphoric, especially if I’m getting a positive response from other people. In a sense, it’s just me indulging my inferior extroverted feeling. Conversing with others, I can get “drunk” on interacting. Drinking a little amount of alcohol will lower inhibitions and usually induce a mild euphoric effect. The same goes with people.

But if you drink too much alcohol, you can end up with a massive hangover with vomiting and intense headaches. Too much socialization doesn’t cause me to vomit, but sometimes I get headaches and become drained. I just want to sleep or do something alone. Trying to talk to others would require me to try to dig up more responses from my already exhausted brain.

Lol the only point of this post was to see if this metaphor made sense. *doesn’t quite know how to end this*