#tried present tense and hoo boy is it weird

[not-just-any-fangirl]

If you are still taking requests then I would appreciate a sulking natsu who just wants Lucy's attention!😁

Lucy’s Laugh

Word Count; 1142

A/N; sorry this is so late!!! Hope you like it!

“What the fuck’s your problem?” Gray asks, slipping onto the bench beside Natsu. Natsu wants to punch him, but he can’t tell if that’s because Gray is an annoying dickhead or because Blue Pegasus decided to drop by to celebrate the day Loke joined Fairy Tail and the Tri Men had been trailing Lucy like lost puppies for the last two hours. 

It’s probably both but Natsu thinks he’s in a generous mood, so he doesn’t punch Gray.

“Get lost,” he snarls, hearing no heat in his own voice. Heat that flares when he watches the tall one with dark hair pin Lucy to a wall. He wants to step in and hit that prick with a Fire Dragon’s kick to the nuts, but Lucy would yell at him for over-reacting, and think that he thought she couldn’t deal with things on her own. 

That had not been a fun conversation two weeks ago when he caught some perv trying to look up Lucy’s skirt and threw him through a window. Lucy hadn’t spoken to him for an hour! 

His mood soured more when he saw her genuinely smile and laugh at something the mage said. She was over there having fun with other people when he and her were supposed to be going on a mission! Stupid Loke asking her to be his date for the party and stupid Makarov throwing the party and stupid Blue Pegasus pricks flirting with her and keeping her to themselves. 

“Earthland to Natsu, if you don’t stop squeezing that mug you’re gonna br- nevermind. Yo Mira, a fire whiskey for Hot Head and I’ll take a brandy neat please!” Gray hollers over Natsu’s shoulder. Natsu lit his fist, burning off the alcohol and wooden chips coating his hand. 

That bastard had made Lucy snort water out of her nose! Natsu had been trying to do that for weeks! And it had nothing to do with how Lucy was tucking her hair behind her ear and doing that cute giggle that made Natsu’s heart beat loud in his chest. Because that was dumb. Lucy was Natsu’s best friend. 

Nothing else. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure with your magic you probably could burn a hole through Ren’s head if you keep glaring.”

“I’m not glaring,” Natsu snaps, taking his mug from Mira without looking at her and downing it in a long gulp. 

“Uh huh,” Gray drawls sarcastically, swirling his amber alcohol in his glass as he arches an eyebrow at Natsu. “And I’m completely straight.”

“Why don’t you go do something useful like jump off the roof,” Natsu turns his attention to Gray, he Ice Bastard having naked, having lost his shirt hours ago and pants soon after. Seeing as how everyone was blind drunk and either dancing, flirting, or fighting, though, no one really gave a flying fuck about Gray’s state of dress, including Natsu.

He breaks another mug in his hand when he sees Ben -or Fen or Renni or whatever his name is- rest his hand on the slip of skin between Lucy’s shorts and her crop top. 

“Gray fight me!” Natsu roars, jumping onto the table and lighting his fists. 

“Nah,” Gray says after a minute of looking at him. The fires go out on Natsu’s fist as he gapes in betrayal at his frienemy. 

“What the fuck?” Natsu asks, staying standing on the table. 

“You’re just pissy ‘cus Lucy ain’t paying attention to you,” Gray shrugs. He downs his drink in a gulp, rolling his shoulders as he leans back. 

“Am not,” Natsu grumbles, fingers twitching when he hears Lucy do that high giggle she did when she was trying to flirt. Natsu liked her real laugh better, the way her eyes lit up and she snorted. 

Gray snorts and rolls his eyes, Natsu feeling heat creep over his face. Stupid fire whiskey. Natsu narrows his eyes when he sees a sly grin spread over Gray’s face. He’s about to turn around and see what the stripper was smiling at when a familiar scent overwhelms the smell of the guild partying around him. Light and summery and it makes Natsu’s gut swoop like when he’s forced to ride the train. 

“Why do you always end up on the table?” Lucy sighs. Natsu looks over his shoulder, beaming at Lucy when she quirks an eyebrow at him and gives him a fond smile. He tries to turn around fully, heel catching on a suddenly slick part of the table and he ends up tumbling to the ground in a loud crash. 

“Oi! You fucking bastard you did that on-” Natsu roars, cut off from untangling himself with the destroyed bench he was surrounded with by Lucy’s worried face hovering over him.

“Are you alright Natsu? That was a pretty spectacular fall,” she asks, holding out a hand to help him up. Natsu grins at her easily, taking her hand and hauling himself out of the wreckage. 

“Bah, like a little wood could take me out!” Natsu grins, throwing his arm around Lucy’s shoulder. She rolls her eyes, elbowing a sore spot on his ribs pointedly but not saying anything. 

“You know, if we left now I bet we could still make that 3000 jewel request,” Lucy smiles at him leadingly, eyes hopeful. 

“What about Loke’s party?” Natsu asks, mentally kicking himself. He shows Gray the middle finger behind his back when he hears the prick laugh under his breath. 

“I haven’t been on a job with you for a week or two. I’ll take Loke out for dinner or something to make it up to him later. Besides,” Lucy says, rolling her eyes as she gestures at where Loke is perched in the corner of the room, several girls hanging off him in awe, his stupid glasses pushed onto his head as he boasts about... something. Natsu doesn’t really care, most of his attention turned to Lucy leading him out of the guild hall. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Well then let’s get going!” Natsu chirps, grabbing Lucy’s hand and dragging her the rest of the way out the door. He turns his head back to smile at Lucy, eyes closed. Which means he misses the pole on the side of the street, and he walks straight into it. Natsu bounces off the wood pillar with a yelp, falling to his ass on the gravel and holding the side of his face. He pouts up at Lucy, who is leaning over her knees from laughing so hard. She snorts, covering her mouth her hand and blinking away tears before meeting Natsu’s gaze and breaking into another fit. Natsu leaps to his feet, grinning at her brightly. 

Let’s see pony-boy make Lucy laugh like that. 

[jemariel]

Lazarus Writing (on Ao3)

Destiel * 40k * Rated E

After months of writer's block, Castiel's publisher sends him a mysterious gift. It's just a journal, though. Right?

But when he starts writing in it, strange things start to happen. Things like his groceries showing up in his kitchen before he's gone to the store. And he's heard of characters taking on a life of their own, but surely that was never supposed to be this literal. What's he supposed to do when the brothers he created start to walk and talk and breathe? What's he supposed to do when Dean, the man he created out of bits and pieces of his own fantasies, starts to show interest?

That's not what really scares him, though. What scares him is what else he might have brought to life. After all, the Winchester brothers fight monsters for a living...

Tags: Writer!Cas, canonverse Sam and Dean. Pining, miscommunications, zombies, amorphous fear monsters, casefic (kind of). Magical Realism. Trippy meta nonsense. Oh, and some smut.

Note: This is not a new story. I wrote this story almost two years ago. But with how fucking meta canon is about to get, I feel like this might resonate. Besides, I made a pretty new banner.

Here, have an excerpt.

~~

God. Even under less-than-ideal circumstances, this man was even prettier than Castiel had pictured. His face was lit with the blue-white glow from the church, catching his eyes and glinting off the necklace he always wore -- that stupid fucking necklace Castiel had seen for a dime a dozen at a convenience store a few days ago and written onto Dean on a whim. He let himself be momentarily entranced by the warmth of his hand and the curve of his bee-sting lips before he shook his head and got himself together. “Uh. Yes. I’m fine,” he said, then backtracked. “No, actually, I am very much not fine.” His knees and hands were shaking -- he might have been bleeding under his trousers where he’d hit the concrete church steps -- and his stomach rolled dangerously as soon as he was upright. He lurched -- and was again steadied by strong hands on his arm and shoulder.

“Woah woah, easy, easy. Hey -- let me take you home, alright?” Dean murmured low and easy next to him. “Sam?”

“On it.” With that the other brother was off, pounding down the street.

Castiel fought to control the queasiness in his stomach, hands on his knees and eyes tight shut. A gentle shake from the hand on his shoulder brought him back. “Hey,” came Dean’s low voice. Castiel raised his eyes to see Dean crouched in front of him, all kind-faced and open-eyed. “What’s your name?”

“Castiel,” he said. Dean smiled and held out a hand, this time to shake. Castiel debated his balance for a moment, then decided it was worth the risk. Dean shook his hand and didn’t let go.

“I’m Dean,” he said. “Can you walk?”

Castiel took a moment to take stock of his body’s responses, then pushed off his knee with a steadying grip on Dean’s hand. The wobble of adrenaline was still definitely present, but -- “I think so,” he said.

“Great,” Dean grinned, and kept a hand on Castiel’s shoulder anyway. If he hadn’t felt as shaken as he obviously looked, Castiel might have felt patronized; as it was he was grateful for Dean’s calm presence at his side. “Where can I take you?” he asked.

“M-My apartment’s not far,” Castiel said, trying not to get any ideas. Dean walked him slowly to where the Impala was parked half in-half out of somebody’s driveway, tail halfway into the street. Before he knew it, he had pulled the door open and Castiel was being lowered into the passenger seat.

“If you need to hurl, just do it out the window,” Dean said, pointedly rolling it down. Castiel couldn’t help a chuckle at that, even if it was a weak one. He must have still looked awful. But the way Dean grinned at him as he closed the car door suggested that that -- making Castiel smile -- might have been part of his intent.

For the few seconds it took Dean to walk around to the driver’s side, Castiel let himself sink into the cozy depths of the Impala’s front seat. He was starting to adapt to this hugely bizarre idea that the things he’d written about were manifesting in flesh and blood, leather and steel. He ran his fingers over a seam in the upholstery. He knew this car -- knew what it was to the boys. Knew about the army man in the ash tray and the initials under the foot well. Knew about Dean rebuilding her from scrap after their father’s death. He’d put those marks there as much as Sam and Dean had. Or more? Hoo boy. That was a philosophical quagmire that he did not have the mental energy for right now. Either way, the fact that the seat cradled him like his own bed was... inescapably comforting. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that he belonged here.

The car door creaked open and Castiel tensed up again, knocked out of his reverie by the very tangible reminder that this was weird. Dean Winchester was driving him home, and it was so horrifically narcissistic to develop a crush on one of your own fictional characters, but here he fucking was, sharing the quiet intimate space of a car’s front seat with a man he had literally created as his own private wish fulfillment. Castiel took a deep breath and tried to focus on something else, but Dean’s presence was inescapable. From his low voice humming along to the quiet strains of When the Levee Breaks to the glimpses of his profile Castiel kept catching out of the corner of his eye.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. The Impala smelled like old exhaust fumes, various oils, corn nuts and jerky, the unmistakable odor of two men in close quarters and semi-irregular showers. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but something about it put Castiel at ease.

“So Cas -- Can I call you Cas?”

Castiel blinked at Dean, taken aback. No one had ever called him Cas. “Uh -- Sure,” he said.

Dean was clearly aiming for nonchalant, gliding his hands easy over the Impala’s steering wheel. “Lemme ask you a question,” he said. “Have you been noticing anything strange lately? Any, I dunno, weird smells? Cold snaps? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Castiel nearly burst out laughing. Understatement of the century. “You mean besides being attacked by an ambulatory shadow?” he asked.

Dean gave a short huff that was more showing teeth than laughter, but Castiel’s heart still tripped over the dimple that creased his cheek, the moment of eye contact when he glanced his way. “Humor me,” he said.

It was right on the tip of his tongue, between his teeth -- the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. But he stopped. Dean. This car. Sam. Suddenly it was all too real. It was one thing to say it to his half-mad-himself brother or in the privacy of his own mind; it was entirely another to suddenly declare himself the creator of a man he had just met. This had to be a coincidence, or a psychotic breakdown, or something but surely it was not his fictional characters coming to life. And even if it were -- how do you find the words for something like that? Even more pathetic, he found himself wanting to impress Dean, and this was definitely not the way to do it.

“No,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing.”

Dean glanced over at him and back to the road a few times. Out of the corner of his eye Castiel watched the shrewd expression of Dean’s mind at work, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or hedging. Castiel closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into his exhaustion, hoping that it would deter Dean’s natural inquisitiveness.

It must have worked, because the next words out of Dean’s mouth were: “You were at the Roadhouse weren’t you?”

Castiel’s eyes popped open. “Uh. Yes.”

Dean was smiling again, just a little quirk at the corner of his lips. “I thought so. I saw you there.” Dean swallowed, a shy little hesitation, then said, “What’s a nice-looking guy like you doing in a dive like that, hm?”

Nice-looking?? Castiel felt his mouth drop open. “I -- Uh. Just. Um.” Even if he had been in the Roadhouse for totally innocuous purposes, hearing something so much like a pick-up line from one of the most gorgeous men Castiel had ever met would have had him flummoxed.

Dean rescued him from his fish-mouthing with a more genuine laugh and a friendly pat to his shoulder. “Relax,” he said, “I’m just teasing you.” He turned a more serious eye on him then. “You just don’t seem the type for the Roadhouse, you know?”

Castiel blinked again, still not sure what to make of that. “And exactly what sort of type do you think I am?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Dean grinned. “More like.... wine hour at the library, I guess.”

And if that didn’t make Castiel want to melt through the seat. Library. Great. Just what every guy wanted to hear.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that as a bad thing,” Dean was quick to reassure him, his hand lingering now on Castiel’s shoulder. He allowed himself exactly 30 seconds of being captivated by the sweetness of his grin and the warmth of his hand before forcing himself to get a fucking grip already.

“Do you, uh -- Do you come to the Roadhouse often?” Shit. Now who was the one with the pick-up lines?

Dean was still grinning through when he said “Whenever we’re in the area. Ellen’s an old friend.”

Castiel nodded. “She said as much.”

“Really? You were talking about me?”

Castiel shrugged, non-committal. “I, uh. Might have asked about you.” Dangerous territory, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Oh did you now?” And fuck if that voice hadn’t just dropped an octave into a definite, unmistakable Sex Register. Castiel felt his stomach flip over, hot. “Did she threaten you with the shotgun?”

“... It might have come up,” Castiel said with a smirk.

Dean had turned all the way toward him, one hand along the back of the Impala’s bench seat, fingers sliding suggestively along the leather upholstery. “Well don’t worry. Ellen may have a shotgun, but I’ve got a rifle. Several, actually.”

“Is that supposed to turn me on?”

FUCK. The words had dropped out before he could stop them. Red alert, red alert, where the FUCK did that come from Novak. Back off. This situation is complicated enough as it is. Back. The. Fuck. Off.

But Dean was just grinning at him more wolfishly than ever. “Depends. Is it working?”

Far better than it had any right to, if Castiel was being honest, but he was not about to say that. He blinked the stardust from his eyes, bit his lip -- and only then realized that they were no longer moving. That they had been stationary for some time, in fact. The song had moved on to Kashmir and there was a gentle hiss of rain on the roof that had not been present when he got in the car. He looked out the window on his side and finally recognized the front steps of his own apartment building.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I wondered when you were gonna catch on,” Dean teased, but warmly. Castiel turned back to take one last look at his small, slightly smug smirk. At the gleam of his eyes. The smattering of his freckles. The breadth of his chest and shoulders filling out his father’s leather jacket. The way his torn jeans pulled tight around his hips. The relaxed curl of his hands, square and work-rough.

What the fuck, Novak, stop staring and just get out of the damn car already.

“Well, then. I, uh. Guess I’d better --” he fumbled with the door handle.

“Hey, listen, uh --” Dean stopped him before he could get the door open. He was scribbling something on the back of a hastily-grabbed piece of paper. “If you, uh, think of anything, y’know. Or if anything else happens. Give me a call, okay?”

Castiel took the paper, the tips of two of his fingers just barely brushing the tips of Dean’s. He felt that touch linger, tingling on his skin. He slipped the paper into his pocket and nodded. “I will,” he said. “Thank you, Dean. For the ride, and for -- you know. Saving my life.”

Dean tossed him a grin, a thousand megawatt jolt straight to Castiel’s heart. “All in a day’s work,” he said as he shifted the car into gear. “See you around Cas.”

And that was Castiel’s cue. He pushed the door open and stepped out. “Goodbye Dean.”

Dean lifted a hand to him before checking his lane and pulling off the curb. Castiel forced himself to turn and go up the steps and not stand there in the fucking rain to watch Dean’s taillights disappear around the corner. He did, however, grip tightly to the little slip of paper in his pocket that held Dean Winchester’s impossible phone number.

Start from the beginning 1 on Ao3

@reallyelegantsharkfish @cryptomoon @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow @weathergirl83 @nickelkeep @hartlessfiction @leafzelindor @ltleflrt @tobythewise @navajolovesdestiel @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @migglangelus @beefcakemish @rosemoonweaver

[j-wonwootrash]

Seungkwan || English Lessons

Word count: 1.6k Genre: Fluff & comedy A/N: I love Boo Seungkwan’s sass. I know Seungkwan may not seem a boyfriend material type but I know he could be a sweet boyfriend.

It has been three years. You are an exchange student who is currently studying in Seoul. Because of your gifts in languages, it made you become a scholar and study more languages and cultures.

Out of the scholar candidates, they chose countries like Spain, Germany, New Zealand etc, for further education. However, for you, you like to challenge yourself. Instead of choosing languages with alphabets, you chose Korean, since its characters are unique, it took your attention.

“Y/N!” You hear your best friend Seungkwan’s voice slowly getting louder. “I need your help!”

Seungkwan became your best friend because he approached you first. He was the friendly type and you loved how outgoing he was to everyone.

One reason was because he was mesmerized by you; how a foreigner could speak the Korean language well without showing any flaws.

You looked to your left and saw him. He crutched down and panted beside you, trying to catch his breath. “Did you get chased by Mrs. Young again?” You laugh as you gave him a bottle of water.

He lightly pinched your arms, giving you the eyes of a hawk. “Yah! Y/N! I know she looks like a witch but that’s not always the reason.” You laughed even harder, smacking his back as he hissed at you. “I ran because Coups-hyung will kill me! Glad I escaped!”

You sarcastically gasp as you placed your hand on your mouth. “Aww did baby boo boo say something harsh again? You sassy boy.” He bit his inner gums, making a pout-like face. Realizing this, you eyed him with concern. “Oh no. What did you do this time?”

He sighed, swaying his arms on his sides and sat next to you. “I guess my sass went overboard.” You told him to continue talking while you finish your homework. “You see. Multicultural Fest is coming and you know how each society will represent a country right?”

You nodded and placed your chin onto your palms. “This year, our host club will not participate in representing countries but will say speeches in different languages. I mean you do understand that our club is culturally diverse right? I was chosen to be one of the speakers.” He continued.

“So? I don’t see any point of escaping from that. You’re very outgoing and presentable. And besides, you’ll be speaking in Korean. No harm in-” You fidgeted your pen but he cut you off.

“Nononono. I’m not done explaining you bum. The thing is, I won’t speak in Korean. I’ll have to speak in English.” He sighed.

“So? Your English is quite good to be very honest. You do understand the language. But why can’t Joshua-oppa and Vernon do it though?” You asked while take glances of your homework and him.

“Josh-hyung will be the French rep while Vernon is the Spanish rep. S.Coups-hyung told me to do the English one but I refused. I kinda teased him a little that he should to it because he looks like a foreigner. He didn’t take it lightly though and got mad.”

“Ooh, your sass did went overboard, Boo-sshi. He broke up with his girlfriend not long ago yeah? Probably hasn’t moved on and put the anger on you.” You patted his head. He just gave out a lot of sighs and slumped on the chair.

“Yeah. That’s why I ran here, to get help from you.” He smiled. “Is it okay if I learn English from you?”

“Sure, only if I get vocal lessons in return.” You winked. He jumped and danced in joy, which you found very hilarious.

——— 

Since then, you started to teach him after school. It has become your daily routine where you’d go meet with him in the café and he would treat you, and vice versa.

“Seungkwan..” You scratched your head. “You know you’re good at forming sentences.. No problems with grammar or the tenses..” You sighed then chuckled.

“You’re trailing off again. Be frank and tell me what your mind is telling you, you bum. I won’t get hurt.” He defensively replied.

Hearing this, you knew things will get interesting. “Fine. It’s your pronunciation.” You grinned. You could tell he was offended. Well, a little. “Alright, from the top.”

He pointed the words with his fingers as he read. “Gud murning ehburibadi. My name is Boo Seungkwan purom ze Hosteu Culobeu. I am berri onored to be standing here to-”

You couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. “HAHAHA!” Right now you are holding your stomach as pain slowly emerge from your laugh. You took a deep breath.

Okay Y/N you got this. If you continue laughing you won’t get vocal lessons from him.

“Seungkwan. If you want to sound fluent or at least sound better than what you are right now, listen carefully.” He looked at you with slightly pursed lips as he anticipated you to speak.

“First off. Your letter B’s should be V’s. Don’t say ‘ehburibadi’. Say ‘everybody’. Your incisors should be behind your lower lips as you speak the consonant. Just think of Vernon on this one.” You joked and he flicked your forehead.

“Ha ha. Smart move Y/N. Irrelevant. Very irrelevant.” He said sarcastically and took a sip off his iced coffee.

“Oh! You pronounced ‘v’ in very correctly! I guess Vernon did have the effect on you.” You laughed so loud that everyone in the cafe gave you the weird stares.

“Yah! Y/N! That’s mean!” He stood up and flicked you forehead again. You tried fighting back by flicking his but his reflexes were faster than you expected.

“Psh. Do you really have to flick my forehead every time I make fun of you?” You scoffed, rubbing the pained area.

“I won’t flick your precious forehead unless you go overboard!” He played with his pen by twisting it. “Oh my gosh this is driving me nuts.” He fanned himself with a tissue.

“Yeah Vernon is the reason why you are nuts right now. Your ‘v’ pronunciation is improving! Yay you!” You clapped and threw the shredded straw wrapper you tore earlier like a confetti to celebrate. “Woo hoo!”

He looked at you like he’s ready to kill meat, but of course you knew he’s kidding. “Agh. Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m best friends with you.” He murmured. You looked at him as his cheeks heated pink.

“Oh! You’re blushing! So does it really mean you like-” You felt soft fabric on your face in which cut you off. You knew you blew off his patience. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed.

“You and your imaginations Y/N! It’s disgusting!” He hissed. If only you knew, you’re the reason why I’m blushing right now. I love the way you smile. He thought to himself.

———

“… I hope you will enjoy the festival held by the school this week. That is all for my speech. Thank you for listening!” Seungkwan encouraged the audience.

He came down the stairs back stage and you gave him ‘thumbs up’. You happily hopped towards him as he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweat.

“Good job Boo!” You hugged him. “I taught you well didn’t I?”

“Excluding the 'Vernon’ teases, I got myself a good teacher.” He placed his arm around you. Agh, my arm. You’re so stupid, Seungkwan. He told himself.

“Does that mean I get my vocal lessons now?” You pleaded, clutching on his vest.

“Sure, only if I get an answer in return.” He joked and looked at you with the same heated cheeks from two weeks before and looked away. You wondered with confusion.

“Remember what I told you last year? That I was worried I might not be a boyfriend to any girl? That I might only be a guy friend or a best friend to a girl?” He slightly grinned and looked down. “Well, I’m not worried about that anymore.” He smiled and pinched your cheeks.

You didn’t know where he was getting to but heck this boy made you blush, like really hard. You know he’s your best friend but the way you treated him is different from your other guy best friends.

It didn’t take you long to realize it though. All this time you thought you he’s your best friend because of his sass and outgoing personality.

Hearing this from him made you realize you actually liked him. From how you’d tease him so much and later feel a tingle of guilt in your chest. Or how you’d give him water bottles to take care of him from his little careless mistakes. Or how you’d tug close to him when you’re in the mood. Or how he makes you smile almost everyday.

After he pinched your cheeks he walked a little in front of you, causing you to follow him from behind.

“Seungkwan-ah.” You called out. He turned around and his cheeks were beetroot red. Taking a deep breath, you scratched the nape of your neck. “My answer is yes.”

His eyes widened and quickly he turned around, avoiding you. This made you smile as you see his hands turned to fist and putting in the air. It looks like he’s claiming that he succeeded in asking you out.

“I got something to prove to the hyungs now.” He smiled as pulled your arm and put you close to him. “That this boo (swollen) looks doesn’t win a girl. A heart does.” He gestured himself as he speak.

Although his statement caused you to cringe so hard, it made you giddy.

“Alright my boo, let’s go and meet the others.”