#also fuck febreeze

[captainlevi06]

Why do cleaning TikTok’s use so many fucking chemicals? You don’t need a different cleaner for every surface in your house.

Things you need to clean effectively

A rag

A duster

All-purpose cleaner

A window Squeegee

Toilet bowl brush and cleaner

Scrub brush

Cleaning powder

Why are you using seventeen different cleaners in your fucking toilet? One of those fuckers is gonna make mustard gas on accident

[stylishanachronism]

As a professional courtesy, unless your dog is a service animal, *please* do not bring them into the bank in general, and specifically not into your appointment with the banker.

[vamph00n]

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆mdni!!⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆

tags: celebhoon!!xmakeupartistreader!! fem reader, morally grey hoon, sunoo cameo. nsfw

wc: 6k

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ synopsis: in which page one of the terms and conditions of your contract explicitly states that having physical relations with anyone in the workplace will result in an immediate suspension. that being said, you wonder how long it’ll be till you're fired. well maybe you’ll be exempted from that fate. considering it takes two to tango, and the other person in question is sunghoon. by technicality, you two didn’t exactly break the rules…yet.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ taglist: @deobitifull @jakeswifez @d-dilemma

smut tags under the cut!!!

smut tags: dubcon, thigh riding, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), cum, spit, etc lmk if i missed anything.

nothing of what i wrote is meant to represent the real world, please consume what you can handle.

enjoy!

you've heard the woes of people who’ve worked at this specific entertainment agency. as to the reason why, you’ve been met with one hell of a contract for starters. in which the first rule of the terms and conditions explicitly states:

there will absolutely be no physical relations between anyone in the company.

you kind of figured it was a no brainer. working in this industry for a while it was an unspoken rule, but at this company? it was serious. anyone who fucked around didn’t stay long enough to truely understand the social repercussions and the forever stain it left on your reputation.

[redacted] entertainment made sure your future employers had the full rundown on your work behavior.

to you? it was doable. the amount of people you’ve seen come and go from this company was astounding. honestly that rule was the only one that got people fired in the first place, but nonetheless you were dead set on keeping this job.

one, because it paid well, and two; sunghoon.

…

“if you really consider it, they didn’t exactly break rule one,” your coworker conversed.

“yeah, they did,” you emphasized. “giving head is physical relations.”

both of you snickered at yourselves.

eating the food you packed for lunch, you play with that idea. so big deal, you can’t fuck said other employee; there are many ways you can have sexual relations with someone that doesn’t breach company policy. you’re sure that if you had made the decision to whore yourself out to whomever you choose, you’d be sneaky about it. as if you had anyone in mind.

well you do, it’s just…you’d rather put your work first.

“so who’s your ‘muse’ for the next hour” your coworker interrupts your thought process.

looking across the table to the bleach blonde boy whom you spent the majority of work and lunch breaks with, you sigh with contempt. if he didn’t have such a knack with a beauty blender, he’d be a model for the agency himself.

“park sunghoon”

the both of you scrunch your faces in displeasure. so damn difficult. sunoo shakes off that icky feeling, which earns him a faint smile from you. working with him is definitely what made this hell hole bearable.

ever since the well performing ad that prick starred in, it’s like his ego skyrocketed by ten fold. gone were the days he was solely booted to being a deodorant model, (in which you and sunoo had joked about having to conceal his dark underarms one day…)

the aversion seemed to go both ways. sunghoon the no-longer-antiperspirant-endorser, also seemed to have the same malcontent. but it was not exclusive to you two, he was just as equally uninterested to all staff.

well, maybe he was a bit mean to you and sunoo, because word got around about the little inside jokes you made.

“as much as i’d love to keep chatting, you have a date with the former ice prince of febreeze for your pits.” the blonde's laugh echoed.

you chuckle off sunoo’s comment, and brace for a painstakingly slow day.

…

in the midst of the many semi-harmless remarks you’ve made about sunghoon, guess you’ve forgotten to mention the fact that he is your favorite face to work on.

he’s stunning.

unzipping your kit, and setting out the products chosen after reviewing the theme of today's photoshoot, he arrives on the dot. the same icy gaze he seems to never take off lands on you for a few brief moments. you don’t know how long he’s been staring, because your eyes met his once you turned his direction. the manager trailing behind him with a clipboard in hand pulls sunghoon’s attention away, and you continue to set up your workstation. mentally taking note of your supplies:

curling iron, brushes, makeup, check.

gone are the days you actually greet your clients, because he just sits in the chair pulling out his phone. it doesn’t matter anymore because per contract rules, someone of his caliber is not to be talked to unless spoken to. maybe it would’ve been better if he stayed an antiperspirant endorser.

prepping his skin, you let the product sit. he looks bored. guess after a while of doing back to back photoshoots he’d be bored. what a luxury, to have other people do things for you at your hand.

there’s always been a clear divide between staff, and models. obviously. people in cosmetics were no strangers to this dynamic, neither were you. it’s maybe why when someone went from being a D-rate model, to being on the cover of multiple magazines; it puts a sour taste in your mouth.

sure, he was always bound to be on the screen advertising and you’d be working behind the camera. but for that brief moment of time when he was unknown, there was common ground between you two. just an unknown makeup artist and an unknown pretty face, joining the same company at the same time. both at the same starting point.

it sucks, because you could’ve known him, you could’ve been better than him.

there was always a tinge of jealousy.

envy, hurt, and abandonment. could you really feel that way because someone you never really knew? no. consulting yourself, and your thoughts at the time, maybe it’s because you felt you needed someone. feeling like you knew sunghoon is what gave you comfort.

it was stupid, and now you’ve diffused into the rest of the backstage staff. you make remarks about famous beautiful people, and they dehumanize you further as they get more starlight.

working the makeup sponge into his face, you watch him glance up a couple of times. a pang in your chest happens accordingly. trying to shut away the little bits of emotion you feel. you convince yourself it’s borderline creepy, how attached you feel to him yet he probably doesn’t even know you.

you go to set his base with powder, then it’s time to do his eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve had any connection to a person that isn’t just platonic. you think perhaps that’s why the fuzzy feelings you have about him bubble up. a reason you give yourself that doesn’t distract you from your mild distaste. it doesn’t help that you’ve also been going through a major dry spell.

the uncomfortable close nature this job fosters, makes it apparent.

the very charming drunk suitors at the bar are no longer, and your tinder had been long deactivated after seeing a family member pop up. there had been no action in your sex life for far too long, and it definitely got to you.

it’s pathetic. you know.

sunghoon’s manager leaves the room, only you and him remaining there. his eyes glance up at the door, then back to you. shit. the little butterflies in the pit of your stomach start flying around, as the little pitter patter of your heart beat increases. trying to break free of this feeling, you disregard the cardinal rule of not speaking unless spoken to.

“i need to do your eyes now.”

he nods, and closes them, putting his ear buds in. a wave of relief crashes onto you as you start to apply the eyeshadow on his lids. your face so close to his, you can hear his shallow breaths and he can hear yours.

“…sorry i’m so close, i can’t see well.” you mutter as you just try to gain composure.

at time like this is when you question if you’ve always been this easy to fluster.

after a long dragged out time spent working on the first eye, you moved to the second. it felt like time stopped, and you lost all ability to do makeup because it was taking you longer than usual. so many times you had to apologize to him for messing up, once you moved to his right eye he had anticipated another apology.

“sorry this is taking so long—“

“you talk too much.” he interrupts you.

reaching out his hand to pull you closer, in which you assume he was helping you get your job done more efficiently.

his eyes still closed, he reaches unintentionally for your hip, and grabs you onto his leg where you sat.

your body stiffens at the feeling, him seemingly okay with it. is he not saying anything to save himself from embarrassment? you don’t know. because now you are close, you can see better. so it did help, and you stay there, just continuing to do his makeup.

you subtlety shift back to see his face entirely, and feel the friction of his knee against your core.

this isn’t fucking happening.

shifting your weight forward again, feeling the sensation of your clothed cunt moving against his thigh you try to get this job done quickly and soon. it has appeared your lack of action has made quite you sensitive.

hoping to hell, and praying to god he doesn’t notice the growing desire bubbling within you, your shaky hand takes the makeup brush. a craft you’ve perfected, and you're finding it hard to keep your thoughts straight as you apply the base layer of his eyeshadow. as you take your time, you hear his shallow breaths turn into grunts of displeasure and impatience.

something that unintentionally turns you on.

holding your breath, you sigh. if he had noticed the discomfort brewing in your pants, you’d imagine the shock on his face. you anticipate what he’d do if he found out. something a little too risky to test.

sunghoon shifts in his seat, causing his knee to rub against your throbbing heat yet again. oh, it feels too good. can’t help but wonder how the mess you must’ve made.

in your head you’ve already convinced yourself that he has no clue what he is doing. you feel a little perverted, but it does ease your neglected cunt. you can only assume he has no idea the things he’s doing to you because his eyes are closed and his earbuds are in. you continue to try and do your job with a faulty hand.

or maybe he knows. the thought does cross your mind, how can it not? does this add to how utterly attractive you find him? yes. a lot actually.

then he adjusts himself again, causing his leg to bump against your sensitive heat.

oh.

this action earns a hushed moan from your throat, in which you are quick to cover your mouth. he doesn’t look up, and thank god. you're almost finished with his makeup, and so ready to go home after this.

your pussy twitches. it must be dripping right now, fuck.

drawing back your attention, you just have to clean up the look, add a couple of embellishments and you’re done. you can tell he’s still bored. that stupid feeling all your clients have when you do their makeup. you feel a weird sense of anger, and frustration at him. in your head keeping the villainized persona of him is easier, so you can just let go of this acquaintance you grew an attachment to. it also helps distract your mind from the wetness pooling. you do ponder… would he be so bored if you had mentioned how soaked your panties were?

as you are just about to finish up, you smudge it.

“fuck.” you say, as you look at the mistake.

“what’s wrong?” sunghoon mutters while opening his eyes. pausing ever so slightly, he takes a look at your face. the flushed color of your cheeks apparent. he doesn’t take note, at least he doesn’t make you aware that it is visible to him. instead he complains, obviously, and you instruct him to shut his eyes so you can end whatever hell of a wet dream this is.

and so you can forget how much this is turning you on.

as you correct your mistake, he starts to bounce his leg in a habit of boredom. you jolt and there is no way he’s not noticing this; wondering if he has caught on, or if he truly is as stoic as he seems.

you however, can’t make sense of it. nor is your endorphin filled brain actually paying attention to anything other than your pleasure.

if you were ever to recount this, which you know you won’t, you’d most definitely be an unreliable narrator.

your hips uncontrollably press into his thigh, warmth concentrates on the weak delicate parts of you and silently, you let the feeling of your climax engulf your lower body. writhing, the slight tinge of dizzy euphoria was fleeting, because you can’t believe you fucking got off.

it’s l surprising how good it felt, how your wet walls must’ve convulsed so deliciously around nothing. you can’t believe it was that good. embarrassment clouds your brain when you realize how bad you needed that.

you wonder if he notices your heavy breaths, if he’ll see the rise and fall of your chest. you wonder slightly… what he’d do if he had relized you came just now.

the thought is too hot for you to handle.

interrupting your silence, you hear the metal clank of the door knob and you come to your feet quickly. feeling the blood rush back to your head, you watch sunghoon’s manager walk in.

“i’ve finished.” you mumbled. you don’t know who you’re saying it to, the manager, sunghoon; or if you're simply just stating what you did all over your panties.

the man before you stands from the chair, adjusting his clothes, dusting off his lap. you can’t help but think that he knows, and he’s going to get you fired. he can’t, this job is quite literally your livelihood. he looks back to you, heading out the door, his eyes meeting yours. the brief flicker of his gaze on your reddened cheeks. of course he has the last word in a tone you can’t decipher.

“i can see that.”

…

the fluorescent lights of the store are migraine inducing. walking through the aisles searching for things to restock your hygiene products.

it’s been a couple of days, and the incident is still fresh your mind. you’d at least hope that by now it’d fade into the back of your head, but it just won’t. the loud generic pop playing over the speakers as you shop does nothing to drown your thoughts. and even when you’re home no amount of dissociating helps either.

but what the hell can you do?

on top of that, you’re still confused if sunghoon knew what happened.

there’s no way in hell he didn’t.

and like the world is plotting against you, one slight turn to the right you are greeted with the outdated deodorant ad of him. the bright lights the store had pointed to the display were obnoxious.

if he knew, he would’ve snitched. a pit in your stomach started to grow.

from that moment since you’ve been counting down the days, wondering when you’ll get the dreaded call into work. it’s torture, you can’t stand it. you’ve contemplated, maybe telling someone would lessen the weight. who would you tell? your therapist? sunoo? absolutely not.

moreover, how do you go about telling someone how much you enjoyed that?

your phone dings, an email. you hold the screen to you face, surprised at the contents.

…

being ordered to the company on your day off was something you didn’t expect, and if you were to be summoned to the building it should’ve been a pink slip. it was neither, instead you were being called to cover for someone last minute.

walking through the hallways of the establishment, it was empty. who could’ve been here on a day like this, you wouldn’t know, especially at this hour. the lights were only on in a couple of sections, many of the studio doors being locked. you assumed this job would probably be a quick one, whatever it might be.

2415, the number of the studio.

makeup kit in hand as you opened the door, you look up. the last person you wanted to see on the other side of it, sunghoon.

the door shuts behind your back, there’s no manager in sight, or crew, or anyone else. his eyes meeting yours, you swallow thickly. the dryness of your throat distracts you. is it hot in here?

his eyes meet yours in a trance. the corner of his mouth raises. this isn’t about makeup, or a photoshoot is it?

“you like me.” he says.

“huh?”

do you? you suppose... his expression is smug, irritating even.

he trails on, looking you up and down. you seem like someone who’s down for a good time. well, you’re someone who had a good time… one that very well could cost you your job. sunghoon knows that.

he feels the little pride in his chest rise, knowing he can easily persuade you. to do something fun, something different.

“do you wanna keep your job?”

…

sunghoon has a lot of things, money, noteriety, and looks.

he doesn’t have you.

honestly, who wouldn’t want the pretty little makeup artist who fell apart on his lap? yeah he knew. of course he fucking noticed. in that moment when you had lost yourself so innocently on his leg he couldn’t help but wonder just how touch starved you might’ve been. to get off simply at him shaking his leg? feeling your needy little pussy rub against against him? it was far too hot for him not to enjoy…

then again, he thinks back to why he singles you out of the dozen. he’s always sort of seen you as… competent, hard working, and unexpectedly…he found you quite interesting.

did the fact you were both briefed for your jobs at the same time help? maybe, and maybe if it weren’t for the stupid work policy he’d have fucked you already. while he wasn't exactly opposed to breaking the rules… he knew you were adamant about keeping your job.

did he practically hang the job above your head? yes, cause he could very well report you if he wanted. there’s no fun in that.

…

sunghoon’s hum rings in the empty studio. your nerves are still present. did you hear him correctly?

“i’m sorry are you—-“

he cuts you off and nods. how long would this take you to process? he’s fucking blackmailing you.

you stand there, still wondering what this could even entail. he’s made it clear, that’s not his intention to get you fired yet, but what is? your stomach forms a pit at the idea what he’ll make you do. you figure… maybe this is a late revenge for the many times you’ve made snarky comments about him, and you should’ve just let go of that in the past. you think how he’ll now commend you for your present day behavior towards him still, cause yes you still find the deodorant model jokes funny. now paired with the fact you know, that he knew you got off on his knee, there was nothing redeemable about your situation.

he steps forward,closing the space between the two of you. his hand grabbing at your chin, your pretty little face between his thumb and index finger. he knows youre not one to put your job on the line to fuck a coworker, even if your so utterly desperate.

so he’s not going to, not yet at least.

his hand releases from your small face, and he looks at you in your taut little shirt. he wonders if you know how enticing you look. do you know what you do to him? walking around the building looking like that all day. even if you have said some remarks about him, at least you're talking about him. that just clarifies that you think of him at the very least.

“i don’t want to get either of us fired.” is what he claims, but he will hang the job over your head if you don’t comply.

“but, i think you’re in a position that can’t say no to some fun.”

god, he must know how desperate you were. how touch starved you must’ve been for something real. it makes your head spin at the minor excitement that he just might do something.

he smirks at your compliance. “i want to get you off.”

clearing the table where you’d usually put your makeup kit, he pushes up against the counter kissing you in a ferocious manner. his lips so plump, it sends your brain into a daze.

this is physical relations. this will get you fired.

pushing his chest away from yours, he wipes the corners of his mouth. “we were just getting started. you chicken out or something?” he lets out an amused laugh rumble from his stomach. it’s something that makes you remember just how demanding he actually is.

“are you stupid? this is physical relations park!”

“if this goes any further we’ll both get fired.” the sound of the fold up chair scooting back as he sits down takes you away into thought.

you are most certainly sure that he does not give two shits about you right now, and that in the moment he really is trying to get you fired. why you felt his moral compass was that off center, it’s cause you’ve known him for long enough. that being said, the ways you’ve known him was purely how he treated you.

“relax, you didn’t think i was actually going to fuck you?”

that hurt, hurt like hell. it deflated the ego you were slowly starting to build, admittedly because you knew it would take a lot for sunghoon to actually throw his job away just for this. it did make you wonder why out of all people he chose you, but that was shut down quick when he just admitted he wasn’t gonna do anything.

“i recall that i said i wanted to get you off.” the stupid look on his face did nothing to diminish your want for his lips on your own.

sunghoon can see the curiosity, the sweet little pout on your face makes him all the happier to walk you through this. picking up your makeup bag from the floor, he rummaged through the pockets. makeup, sponges— and oh, what’s this?

as you sit on the table, it’s killing you that he’s not just doing as he said he would. does he get off on this? just the sheer fact that he might be making you break the rules? sunghoon is absolutely the type to. he grabs something from the bag in which you don’t catch in it’s entirety before he parts your legs.

“you can finger yourself right? no need for me to tell you how to do that.” his raspy voice bellows.

you nod, so utterly needy. your fingers slip under the fabric of your bottoms. he drinks in the sight as you ever so carefully rub the little bundle of nerves between your fingers. knowing that if you went any faster, this will be a quick session, so you take your time, just feeling how his eyes follow the clothed movement of your hands.

impatient, he takes them off for you. your bottoms. the clothe slides down your legs onto the floor, and god, you look tight. he slightly raises his shoulders, if you both weren’t in the company building right now he’d take you. alas he has to remind himself to hold back that urge. your glistening pussy in all its glory, just as pretty as sunghoon had imagined. it’s just as wet as he thought it would get.

just the way it tightens around nothing has his clothes dick feel the strain in his pants.

“bet your needy hole wishes it could feel this huh?” he rasps while palming over the very visible bulge.

he sits back in the chair, picking up the item and tossing it on the table beside you.

a curling wand.

“w-what do you want me to do with this?” the slight dread, and anticipation you had at his next few words made you just slightly whimper.

the action earns you a pleasured look on his face, and spreads his legs as if to show to you that this is indeed also getting him off.

“don’t be dumb, i want you to stick it in.”

your jaw slightly hangs open, that? that curling wand? you don’t think you’ve ever experienced something of that size, or girth. is he crazy?

the look of hesitation on your face confirms to him that you're unsure, but with a little encouragement he knows you’ll be a good girl.

“can’t take this huh?” he muttered, “that’s a shame.”

picking up the wand then running his tongue along the cold metal, before waving it back to your face.

“lube it up then babe.” his fanged smile submitting you so easily.

the phallic shape of the hair tool takes you back to when you’d fantasize about sticking other things up there to satisfy your needs. thank god you found out what vibratiors were before you got too desperate. although it would seem you’ve regressed, or simply just didn’t think about that in the moment.

spitting on it, and lathering the slick evenly across the wand you’re fucking terrified to say the least.

tou feel that must make sunghoon feel some sick pleasure derived front that.

angling it against your entrance you can already feel the tip being too girthy, like it’ll split you open.

sunghoon stands from his chair seeing your hesitance, and a wad of spit lands on the wand.

“if y’can’t get this in don’t know how you’ll be able to take me.”

oh he’s bluffing, but wait so he’ll fuck you eventually?

“wait so you’re going to—“

“not yet.” he raises his voice before landing back on the chair with his legs spread. “not in the company building no.”

unzipping and undoing the button on his pants, he folds over the sides so you can just barely see the dick print peaking through. your mouth almost salivates at the sight, and that makes sunghoon all the more eager to see your tiny cunt take that fucking hair curler. adjusting his posture he rolls down the elastic of his briefs to reveal that fucking christ—

he wasn’t lying.

watching you take in the sight of his cock, he slightly strokes it, making you eager for his touch and your own pleasure.

“gonna sit and stare? or you gonna fuck your pussy?”

silenced at his words, you push the tool into your depths, and sunghoon audibly moans as he watches every inch get sucked into you. he can only imagine what it would be like if that was him, and the little jolts of pain you displayed would be felt around his dick if he had just took you right then and there.

the stretch is insane, on one hand you can feel the bruises that will form within you, on the other hand you can feel how it hits the delicious spots of your inner walls. oh and the faces he makes as you take this monstrous size into you, it makes you imagine what his will feel like when he’s in balls deep, and what his face will look like.

the oh so pretty face you loved working on, and how it would contort into the same gorgeous expressions. watching his hands grip at his girth as you adjust to the size of the wand, you draw it out, then slam it back into yourself.

“fuck!”

you exclaim as your hand grips at the handle, starting to rhythmically thrust it in and out of your hole. it excites sunghoon all the more.

“looks like you still know how to please yourself huh?” his chest flattens as his hand moves faster, trying to match the same pace as you. it’s unbelievable how wet you’re getting. with each sloppy movement he can hear your melodic voice echo slightly in the room. each thrust drawing out a louder sound.

your back pressed up against the wall, your other hands goes to toy with your aching clit, causing a wave of sensations through your core. biting back a moan you know that would be too loud, the male across you pumps his dick even faster. it’s long, hard, so veiny and pretty. the reddened head of his tip oozing with precum, and his chest rising and falling.

he isn’t ashamed to show how much this does for him, he’s not the type. although, something about being able to see you clench makes him want to feel it. it makes him curse at himself for not just fucking you instead of acting none the wiser while you got off on his thigh. is this really how your cunt looks when taking cock? well, the substitute of one.

you’re just walking around freely with that? he’s been holding off for that?

his hands started to not feel enough, he needed a part of you to be on him so he could feel the relief of just having you to make it feel better. standing up, his erect member in hand, he holds it close to you.

“spit on it.” he almost begs.

who are you to say no?

a glob of your saliva drips onto his veiny need, and he feels it dribble down. still close to you, now near the sight that was merely a few inches away, he can really see how your hole just sucks in the wand. it’s dangerous how much he wants it.

taking the wand away from your hold, he helps you himself, fucking into you faster.

your body moves up with every shove, and he watches as you hold yourself up. the sight of your tits bouncing up and down, and the expressions he draws out make his dick twitch harder, his free hand stroking like his life depended on it.

“bet you take cock so good,” he hums before taking his free hand convered with precum placing it on the top of your stomach. as he impales your guts with the tool, the harmonious sounds from your mouth grow louder, your jaw hanging agape. he can feel how it bulges in your stomach, how you're slowly falling apart for him.

“sunghoon—“ you moan out feeling the pressure be too much, but it also feels too good to make it stop.

the sounds being elicited from your gooey and viscous slick are pornographic. he doesn’t think he’s seen anything quite as good, quite as real.

“look at how much there is, must feel so good huh?” he asks tauntingly.

“fuck, can’t imagine what it must feel like having your pussy wrapped around my dick like that.”

his dirty, dirty words almost make you wetter, if that’s even possible. still rubbing your clit, another wad of his spit lands there, his nod encouraging you to keep going.

his dick twitches at the sight, wanting to get you off faster so he can see what it must look like when you cum. his grip on the handle of the tool so strong, you can see the veins of his hand. fucking into you deeper and faster, all the sensations feel too much. the way it throbs for him, the way you’ve been feeling your peak build from the start, the never ending pleasure. this time it’s not as fleeting, this time your not fucking yourself against his thigh. this time he’s fucking you.

your cunt clenches so hardly around the tool, a familiar heat bubbling to the surface. this time, just stronger, and harder than anything you think you’ve ever experienced.

“sunghoon— i” your words are cut off as he pushes in you harder, and presses your stomach.

“yeah? let me see how your pretty little hole tightens all for me.” he almost growls hungrily.

you nod aggressively, feeling him so eager to get you off. he really wasn’t lying.

with another plunge into your swelling walls, you feel it. the waves of release engulf your whole core. you can feel it through your stomach, the delicate bundle of nerves, and in your vagina. you can feel the slick coat the tool more as you still try to come down from the high.

trying to slide out the curling wand you quickly urge him not to.

“fuck i’m still cumming.” you breathlessly exclaim, your whole body shaking from pleasure.

as sunghoon watched he bathes in how filthy you’ve made that metal rod, how much of that was only you. taking his neglected dick in hand, he hovers over the mess to quickly get himself off.

“what are you—“

he shuts you up, and pumps harder on his own cock, urging you to take some of that mess and lather it against his ache.

he’s so lewd, so open about it to you. there no shyness in sight, and he so wants to use the means that you can provide. it’s so hot, you can’t fathom how you’d ever be into anything like this. looking up at him, his face is desperate for relief, and you coat his dick with the slick you drenched the curling rod with.

you can feel how hot and heavy it is, the feeling of your supple fingertips on his length makes his body recoil from sensitivity. he wants to cum so fucking bad.

he doesn’t know when was the last time he was this eager to get off, maybe when he was a teenager he felt like this. it just seems you’re too intoxicating for him to handle. the texture of all your juices on his length make it hard for him to not bust so quickly, but he has to.

“shit, feels too good.” his voice rings as you just watch.

his thumb swirls at his sticky tip, and you’ve never wanted to put something in your mouth as much as you did now.

you hover over his cock, and lick your lips.

“hey— what the hell?!” sunghoon asks as you take it in your mouth. he’s immediately distracted from the bliss, and he feeling his fists and body clench at the sensation.

“shit, we’re breaking the rules right now—“

he didn’t think you’d really break.

you cut him off as the pop sound of your mouth makes his brain go fuzzy. “let me take it, i wanna taste you.” your saliva all stringy on his length makes it impossible to say no.

your tongue languidly laps at his dick, and you can barely take all of it in your mouth. the rest of the length being pumped by your hands. feeling how smooth he is, how he tastes, it’s so weird. so good. you want to revel in how great his cock is, massaging his neglected balls.

this earns a thrust into your mouth, and he can’t stand this any longer.

“baby, stay like that.” he moans while pumping the base of his cock into your mouth.

your tongue licks up the slit of his hard length, and swirls the tip. tasting his needy sap on your tastebuds, and watching his hips thrust forward. he’s dancing in the edge, trying to drag out the euphoric feeling.

“you’re so close.” your voice breathes out tiredly, just watching him in awe.

when he does, he’s loud. it’s so attractive, that you don’t mind how the hot white ropes spill onto your shirt. oh he came, a lot. there’s too much, so much.

pure bliss, his face contorts.

as he comes down, you can’t help but know that-

you both are now at a higher chance of losing your jobs.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my roommate to stop smoking in our apartment?

🍃🍃🍃 <- For identification.

I (20, M) live with one roommate (22, F) in a college apartment. We were pretty cool with each other when I first moved in. She’s an art student who focuses on African American styles, and I’m the whitest engineering student on the face of the planet, but we got along well. Except for one thing: she smokes so. much. weed.

Weed isn’t legal in our state. I only smoke tobacco, but I don’t really care what other people do. But I can’t even use our common areas unless I spray febreeze and open our one window, because the smell is constant. When I first told her that it bugged me, she started burning incense to help hide it. Which would be great, if it actually did anything. It didn’t. Now the whole place smells like weed and incense. Even my bedroom, which is two doors separated from the living room where she smokes, reeks of weed. I keep a wax melter on all day just to try to make my private living space not smell like a fucking skunk.

But… she hasn’t spoken to me in three months. We still live in the same space, and I try to talk to her, but she acts like I don’t even exist. (This is probably because her family called the cops to our apartment one time because she wasn’t answering their calls, and I didn’t answer the door even when the cops started throwing shit at my second-story window. Because, y’know, if someone is throwing shit at my window I’m not opening the fucking door for them. But that’s a whole Thing.)

I’m exhausted with not being able to use the space that I pay for because it smells so bad that it makes my eyes sting, but I really don’t want to piss her off even more by having our first conversation in three months be an argument. I also worry that it might be rude to tell her that she can’t do some activity in the space that she lives in.

Would I be an asshole if I were to confront her and ask her to either quit or find somewhere else to smoke? (And if so, what else can I do?)

What are these acronyms?

[dilly-oh]

Firsts

“Oh shit, Hatake, on your six,” Genma hisses in Kakashi’s ear, who has to smother the urge to snap the other man’s neck at the sudden intrusion of his personal space. “Check out the new cutie at the mission desk.”

Okay, maybe he can forgive him.

Kakashi glances over and lets out an unimpressed grunt. Sure, the guy’s got a nice face, but he’s a little mousy-looking with that scruffy ponytail and array of pens in his pocket. A new Chunin, obvious from the freshly-pressed flak jacket and lack of PTSD. Nice complexion, decent body. Scar’s a little sexy. Guy’s a solid B. Nothing to scream about.

“I’m gonna ask him out,” Genma says with grim determination. “Cover me.”

“Naw, you got this, champ,” Kakashi says, shoving their mission report into Genma’s hand and slithering out of the room. He’d rather not see Genma perform his mating ritual or whatever is the equivalent of making an ass of himself before the gawky Chunin stammers out a polite ‘no, thank you, Mr. Jounin, sir’.

Which is why he’s utterly flabbergasted when Genma goes sailing by overhead as he’s walking out the building. He looks up in bafflement to see the Chunin decisively slamming the second-story window shut and locking it for good measure.

“I think I’m in love,” Genma croaks from the dumpster.

Kakashi thinks he might be a little bit, too.

---

Kakashi has a mission report to turn in and no friends around to pawn it off on. If he waits one more day it’ll go from being fashionably late to downright obnoxious. And when he pokes his head into the Mission Office of course the Chunin is there on duty, straightening the line with nothing but a sharp glance and incurring silence with a single frown. Word had gotten around about Genma’s fate, as well as the fate of several unfortunate Jounin who’d tried to retaliate and instead found themselves also ‘dumpstered’, as the term had been coined. Now everyone knew not to cross him.

Resigned to his fate, Kakashi joins the line.

When it’s finally his turn, he takes a deep breath, drops the scroll on the desk, and spins on his heel to leave.

“Wait.”

Kakashi’s feet are rooted in place. His eyes snap to the window. How far away is the dumpster again? If he can get the trajectory right, he can use his own momentum to land on his feet and avoid-

“Hatake, right?” The Chunin glances up at him, smiles a little. “I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself to you yet. I’m Umino Iruka. Pleased to meet you.” He extends a hand. Kakashi stares at it like a hissing viper. Is this some kind of new move? Maybe he’ll snap Kakashi’s arm before tossing him out the window. Break a finger or two. “Oh, come on, I don’t bite.” Iruka laughs, a warm, bubbling sound. Against his better judgment (and years of ninja training), Kakashi slowly reaches out and shakes the other man’s hand. It’s just as warm as his laugh, calloused and strong. Kakashi’s gaze travels up the toned arm, past surprisingly broad shoulders to meet a pair of mischievous brown eyes. “Pleasure.” Iruka flashes him a devious smirk and winks.

Kakashi can kinda see what Genma was talking about.

And then Iruka looks down at the scroll and scowls.

“Is this your handwriting or did a chicken walk all over your paper? …And then shit on it?”

On second thought, fuck Genma.

---

Kakashi freezes in the tree outside Naruto’s place. A second chakra signature is inside the run-down apartment, oddly familiar. Kakashi peeks around the window, his suspicions confirmed: Iruka is inside, bustling around the small kitchen with Naruto in tow. He’s cooking for him. More than that, he’s actually attempting to teach Naruto how to do it.

The most Kakashi’s ever done is bring over some packets of instant Ramen and a couple fresh vegetables. Maybe put down a little newspaper and spray some Febreeze. That sort of shit. Nothing this…domestic. He’s a ninja, for god’s sake, not a nanny.

He sits outside in the tree, watching, for a long time.

---

“You know you could join us, next time,” Iruka says when Kakashi stops in to pick up his newest assignment from the mission desk. He stares back at him blankly, hand still outstretched. “For dinner,” Iruka clarifies after the silence becomes so painfully awkward Kakashi almost wishes a Missing-Nin would jump out of the garbage can and kill him. “Naruto would enjoy it. What’s your favorite meal?”

“…Miso soup,” he finally says, taking the scroll. “With eggplant.” Iruka nods and gives him that damn smirk again.

“Sounds like a date.”

Kakashi absolutely does not trip a little as he turns to leave.

---

The dinner (singular) turns into dinners (plural), with and without Naruto. Which is fine, seeing as Iruka is a font of amusing stories involving his rambunctious students, whose exploits are so absurdly idiotic that Kakashi is seriously concerned for the village’s next generation of ninja. Then again, he’s met Naruto, so he shouldn’t really be surprised.

They settle into a familiar rhythm, the two of them enjoying food or drinks a few nights a week, filled with stories, laughter, and a little harmless flirting. Nothing more.

Kakashi tells himself he’s content with this. It would be selfish to ask for more, especially when he has nothing to give in return. This is enough. He repeats that, again and again, until he almost believes it.

Until Iruka’s pulling him into a searing kiss.

Until he’s dragging him inside his apartment.

Until he’s holding him in his arms.

And then just like that, Kakashi’s perspective of Iruka has gone from safe and friendly to something terrifyingly close to love.

So Kakashi does what he always does when faced with feelings.

He avoids it like the fucking plague.

---

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Iruka stands in the doorway of Kakashi’s hospital room, glaring so furiously he can feel the heat even through the haze of painkillers. “You ghost me for a fucking MONTH and then have the gall to ask me to bring you fucking ICHA-ICHA while you’re on your fucking deathbed?!”

“…Gai’s out on a mission,” Kakashi rasps, his throat still sore from the feeding tube.

The resulting silence is filled with such murderous intent an ANBU pokes his head in the door to make sure everything is alright, spots Iruka, and gets the fuck out of there.

“You…” Iruka swells up, like he’s about to literally explode, angry words choking in his throat.

And then his face goes carefully blank. That scares Kakashi more than anything. Anger, he can deal with. It’s a familiar enemy, one he can beat. This cold resignation isn’t something he knows how to fight. Or at least recover from.

Without a word, Iruka drops the books on a chair and calmly walks out of the room.

Kakashi really can’t blame him.

He’d dump himself, too.

---

Months go by, and Kakashi heals. Physically, at least. He sees Iruka at the mission desk, but there’s no smiles or winks for him now, just a stiff “thank you, Jounin” before moving on to the next. He’d almost rather be dumpstered. He takes more missions, longer ones, just to get away, to try to forget. He’s had breakups before, but none of them ever hurt this bad. It almost feels like someone is stabbing him the chest, sliding a knife right between his ribs- no, wait, that’s the Missing-Nin who is doing literally that. Kakashi curses, rips them apart with a Chidori, and blacks out.

He wakes up to find Iruka sitting in the chair beside his hospital bed, Icha-Icha open on his lap.

“I wasn’t reading this,” Iruka says quickly. “I was reading it…to you. It doesn’t count.”

“…Did I miss any of the good bits?” Kakashi asks, his voice weak and scratchy.

“Kind of hard to when there aren’t any,” Iruka snorts back.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the beep of Kakashi’s machines and the drip of his IV.

“I miss you,” Iruka says quietly. It hurts more than getting stabbed, and that hurt like a bitch.

“…I miss you, too,” Kakashi replies, even softer. Iruka looks at him, and the anger is still there, but it’s anger FOR him, not AT him, which isn’t something he’s ever experienced before.

“Why did you run away? What could possibly make you attempt to go off and get yourself killed? What the fuck are you afraid of?”

“…You,” Kakashi says simply. Iruka blinks, gaping at him in disbelief.

“Of…what? Me? Why? Because you love me or something?”

“Yes,” Kakashi replies, because it’s true, and because he does.

“Oh my God, Kakashi…” Iruka heaves a weary sigh, covering his face with his hands, which is a shame, because Kakashi hasn’t seen it in a while. “Could you at least…act like a fucking grown man and talk to me? Instead of just avoiding the issue? Maybe, I don’t know, voice your concerns so I can help you through them? You might not realize this, but I care about you, asshole.” Iruka lowers his hands to glare at him, and there’s tears shining in the corners of his eyes. “Did you ever stop to consider that I might actually feel the same?”

He hadn’t, honestly. He’d been too busy running.

“…Do you?” he asks, voice shaking a little. Iruka gives him the most insultingly condescending look.

“Of course I fucking do.”

Kakashi has to force himself to stay calm, otherwise his heart monitor will go haywire and a nurse will come rushing in and fuck everything up.

“So…” Iruka goes on, “if you want this…if you want me…I need to know. None of your self-destructive bullshit. No running away. Just answer. Yes…or no.”

Kakashi swallows, his throat painfully dry. His chest aches, but he can’t tell if it’s from the stab wounds or his own anxiety. The fear is still there, but Iruka is, too.

And that gives him the courage to answer.

“…Yes,” he says in a hushed whisper.

Iruka sits there for a long moment, digesting that, then nods.

“…There room in there for two?” he asks, jerking his chin at the bed.

There isn’t, but damn if Kakashi’s going to say so.

---

“You know you don’t always have to wear that,” Iruka teases, running a hand through Kakashi’s hair.

“Of course I do,” Kakashi says, admiring the gleam off the golden band on his finger. “It’s a first for me.” Iruka snorts beside him on the bed and smacks him in the face with a pillow.

“And your last, dumbass.”

Kakashi wholeheartedly agrees.

-End-

(Written for KakaIru Valentine’s Week 2023, Day 1 Prompt: Firsts, hosted be @kakairu-rocks)

[guccigarantine]

Natalie and Austin doing the Zeb voice took me the fuck out

Austin: The fact that Zeb, Ezra, and Chopper share a room or whatever. I guess Chopper's not actually in there but just the two of them you know it smells crazy in there.

Natalie: He hangs out in there. It smells crazy in there!

Austin: You KNOW!

Natalie: Oh, god like mildewy towel smell?

Austin: You know Zeb has incense. Zeb has incense and Febreeze and he's like [Zeb voice] oh this covers it all up.

Natalie: [Zeb voice] No, it it it kills the odor.

Austin: [Zeb voice] It kills... the odor.

Natalie: [Zeb voice] Haven't you seen the commercials? The bubbles? They eat it! They eat the stinky!

Austin: That's a different product, Zeb. No.

Rob: You thinking of Scrubbing Bubbles?

Austin: No, it's Febreeze.

Natalie: No, the old Febreeze commercials.

Rob: Oh, yeah yeah.

Austin: Oh, do they have bubbles also?

Natalie: You spray it into the air and then it would zoom in into the molecules of the bubbles eating the stinky smell and then they would pop! and then it would be like ooo ocean breeze.

Austin: Right.

Natalie: That worked on Zeb and he's got a lifetime supply of Febreeze in there.

Austin: There's actually another bedroom it's just filled with crates of Febreeze.

Natalie: Yeah [laughs]. That's why he can't sleep there.

Austin: [Zeb voice] That's my Febreeze room. And that's why he can't kick Kanan out because Kanan's like you have a room you just filled it with Febreeze.

Natalie: You have Febreeze room.

[writebackatya]

ITS ME IM FIRST are there any moments from your writing inspired by something that happened to you personally??

This is why you're one of the best people in the fandom, thanks!

And yeah, there are some actually

Let's start with Indi-Quack!

So in Under the Influence of Gandra Dee!, Fenton has to sober up for his m'ma after unknowingly vaping a bunch of weed. Something similar happened to me. No, I did not need get high on accident but I did have to sober up fast one time for a parent that was coming home

It was back when I still lived at my dad's house, I had just gotten out of a long day of working retail pharmacy and supposedly had the house for the evening. So yeah I wanted to get high that night. After getting out of work I went out and bought some stuffed nachos for my dinner/high snack and then went back home to get high. In the process of doing so, I get a warning text from my brother who was letting me know that he and dad were coming home. I wouldn't say I was super high, but it was enough to be a concerned and the worry just increased so I was pretty high. Quickly googled different ways to sober up from a high as I Febreezed the room and went with a cold shower. I think it somewhat did the trick, I felt more alert but also pretty awful but that's because I'm not one who takes cold showers that often

I basically felt the way I wrote how Fenton felt after he took that cold shower to sober up, less high than before but in-between this state of high and sober, not fun. Luckily my dad was none the wiser, but my stuffed nachos got cold. :(

I think I did write in the notes of Stuck in the Middle with DEW! about an experience I had with an edible, might as well give out so more deets on that. So that someone I mentioned, was actually a sibling of mine; it was back in college when we were all home for the holidays (ha-ha) she was staying the week with her husband (great guy btw) and yeah they're both stoners too. Anyway, a surprise Christmas present from her was a weed brownie. And it was good, like no joke, my siblings are amazing chefs. But she told me not to eat the whole thing in one go because she put a lot in there. So I ate half of it. Big mistake

Okay. So my bedroom was basically in the basement floor and usally the area I got high in back then, and I kid you not that one moment I was in my bedroom on my bed and the next I was in the living room (which was one floor up) lying on the floor in the middle of a conversation with that sibling who was checking up on me. That was a great high, I'm pretty sure I saw every title card for every Arthur episode I've ever watched in my mind that night

Last Indi-Quack! related one comes from What'd I Miss?!, after I wrote the scene where Gandra tells Della about one time she was high at F.O.W.L. and she could not for the life of her understand what Bradford was saying to her and winged her response and got away it was similar to two other experiences I had

So during the summertime me and another sibling thought we'd have the house for the afternoon to ourselves and you will not believe what happens next. We got high and were going to go chill in the pool. Well we got high in the kitchen and then we heard something that sounded like a car door being opened, I investigate, I see that my dad, step-mom, and half-sister arrive home, I tell my sibling, they don't believe me because this would totally be something I would lie about to just fuck with them, i assure them that it is not and quickly start spraying the room and opening all the windows, they put away the bong, we retreat to the backyard, and just wait

So long story short, they came to the backyard and talked to us and we kept a straight face. But at one point my step-mom goes to something in the backyard and asks me a question about it that I still don't know was. And after having her repeat the question twice I just responded with "Yeah, it seems to be working fine" and got away with it

And while no, I did not get high at work but one year when I was working 2nd shift on Christmas I did smoke like hours before I had to go into work, just a little, honestly just a bowl. And by the time it was for me to go to work, I honestly felt fine. It wasn't till I got to my job and started working that I was giggling, so I was teensy bit high, but I am GREAT at my job so I just played some jazzy Christmas tunes and went to work. Luckily I was by myself for those first few hours of work tho

Now let's talk about stuff more wholesome, two of the Home for the Holidays! stories hit close to home for me, When Siblings Reunite! and It's All Downhill from Here!

The former is basically how it feels to be reunited with my siblings over the holidays but with the Ducks so it's way more cooler and the sledding one is based on sledding with my cousins on Christmas which is literally my favorite thing to do with them when we did do it

The last one I'll share comes from Let's All Go to the Movies! where Dewey is bothering Gandra at the Fight Fighters cabinet (you're welcome, Gravity Falls fans!)

Now look, Dewey is my favorite triplet because I was 100% most like him when I was that age but waaaaaaaaayyy less cool. And looking back now, I probably annoyed waaaaay more people than I thought I did when ever I wouldn't stop bothering people because I was interested in them or just wanted to talk to them about whatever was going through my mind at the time. And yeah, sometimes those people would snap. Not totally lose their cool, but just snap at me in a way made the message clear to me that I was being a nuisance to them at the moment

And look, nowadays I can be quite the snarky person when I'm in a bad mood so I also relate to Gandra here. Just being somewhere you don't really want to be, being with someone who is at a social level where you're not at now while prying into your personal life that you don't really wanna discuss right now.

But here on tumblr with mutuals, never an issue

[regular-lord-reckoner]

well, my time off from work is coming to a close, sadly. it always goes by way too fast.

especially because this time it seems like i spent a lot of it doing stuff, like running errands and cleaning.

i took our dog to get his hair cut on tuesday and he was a real good boy the whole time. i bought him a toy for being such a trooper.

on wednesday my mom left for a work trip which she's still on but she'll be back tomorrow. she made it safely and says it's been a peaceful time so i'm glad, she deserves a break.

i spent most of wednesday running errands (mostly looking for a specific hair dye that i went to TWO sallys for and neither had it so i had to order it online but i think this time it's really gonna come out exactly how i want so fingers crossed !!; i also procured some snacks !!)

thursday i decided to do something i've wanted to for a long while and mom said i could if i wanted but she doesn't know so this will be a surprise for her when she gets back, but !!

i woke up early and got to work cleaning out the pantry and the fridge as well as our old fridge which we put on the back porch for extra storage

i knew i only had so much time because the dump closes at 5 and i really wanted to get all the frozen stuff out and be done with it rather than deal with it the next day because i guess if push comes to shove i could drive my dad's truck, but i'm more comfortable using my car and it was already a stink fest in there just doing what i was doing, so...yeah (also thank god for febreeze, jesus christ)

anyway, i uh....i guess i did some grief cleaning because it's almost like you could tell as i was pulling everything out and throwing it all away that it went to hell about the time my dad got sick

a lot of what i threw away was his food, but it's over a year old so it really needs to go, neither mom or i are eating it and it's just going bad, but goddammit it was hard.

throwing away all the prepared meals my mom made for him so we'd have something quick to warm up for him because when he'd get hungry he didn't really wanna wait, it was almost like a wave and he'd only take a few bites and then be done so it was great to have stuff we could put back up. we also just had plenty of his favorites on board like pudding cups, cereals (cap'n crunch the peanut butter kind, frosted wheats, cheerios), peanut butter crackers, fruit cups, graham crackers and peanut butter (are you sensing a theme? lol) and of course...little debbie snack cakes.

not all of what i ended up throwing out was his, a lot of it was mom's and some of it mine as well, but in total i took off 16 bags of trash.

it took me three trips to the dump and a bucket of sweat to do it, but i did it !!!! i almost threw up like three different times, cried a few different times (specifically when i had to dump out the last ice cream he ever had; it was butter pecan and he only took about three or four bites of it but god did he enjoy every bite) and i had to pretty much blow through my lunch because i literally made it with 10 minutes to spare before the dump closed by the time i was dropping the last two bags off, but it's done !!!!!!!!!

i cannot tell you how nice it is now to not have to play jenga every time i want to get something out of the pantry or the fridge, like...jesus christ

it was at the point where every time i'd grab something, even a package of tea or a can of soup it'd cause an avalanche and i'd already pulled out a bunch of stuff from the pantry floor a while ago, but i didn't do the full thing so i thought, fuck it, i have the house to myself, i can blast through this in one day and my mind can rest easy for the rest of the time and goddammit i was right !!

did i do a perfect job ?? no, i did not. i know i didn't get everything, but i'm going to leave some of it up to my mom to decide. my goal was to at least take one thing off her plate since i know that's something that's too overwhelming to even think about and given that it took me a full work day to do it....yeah, i get it.

i think i started around 8:30 and to be fair some of that time was also me cleaning my bathroom as i went and cleaning spills and messes as i went (i also got covered in.....so much garbage juice), but by the time i finally got home and was done it was a little after 5 so yeah !!

i dunked myself in the pool, ordered some food (i got the world's biggest goddamn black bean burgey and i inhaled every bite; i''ll post a picture of it at the end) and then i took a shower and settled in for the night and my god did i sleep solidly that night, i don't think i moved an inch

i was also........exhausted yesterday because of that, just properly, properly worn the hell out, but !!! i had to go to the pharmacy to get my medicine so i went to pick that up and while i was out i also swung by walgreens to see about getting a covid booster. they told me to check back sometime next month because that's when they'd be getting them in so i'll definitely be stopping in when that's available

i also had to get some proper groceries instead of just snacks so i picked some up as well as some food and headed back home to relax

today's been pretty much the same, i had to run out again because i forgot a few things and they were giving out free ice cream at publix so i got some free ice cream :3

they were really nice there, too, the person who took my order said my hair was really neat (i don't know if i've posted it on here, but it's green on top and blue towards the bottom; every time i wash it it looks different but whenever i dye it again i'll do a before and after). i also thanked them for being out there and they were like, "well, we're getting paid," and i said i know, but it's hot out here so i appreciate it and we wished each other a nice day and i scooted off to a secluded spot to enjoy some moose tracks and then headed off to my next stop which was waffle house.

i decided for lunch today and breakfast tomorrow i'd get a to go order of some of my favorites and the person taking my order was so sweet, i ordered a hash brown bowl with no meat, smothered and covered and they were like, "you know, if i double everything it'll actually be cheaper" and went on to explain and all i heard was more hashbrowns, more cheese and more onions so i said let's do that !!

i also got a chocolate chip waffle for the morning and i've got everything i need to make chai as well so that'll be my breakfast :3

tomorrow's going to be another rough one, it's my dad's birthday. second one since he's been gone. he would have been 78. that's wild to think about.

i got the waffle house because it reminds me of him so much. we used to go there so many times, all throughout my life and whether it was us as a family or just me and him it was always nice to sit down somewhere and both of us enjoy a comforting meal together.

he'd usually get the patty melt and liked his bacon well done ("burn it!" he'd always say) and he'd get a black coffee, no cream or sugar and always take his time eating and would tell me to enjoy my food as well.

i usually get hashbrowns (smothered and covered, of course) and sometimes if i'm feeling fancy a side of cheese grits, but here lately they've got this bowl that has the hashbrowns i like but it also comes with egg !! and i usually get an orange juice to go with it

the best part would be whenever my dad would give me some quarters and tell me to go play something on the jukebox and no matter what i chose he'd always nod his head and smile, bop his head along to the song

sometimes he'd get up and play some of his favorite songs (he was a country guy, but he liked the old stuff so any johnny cash or waylon jennings type of thing, but really he'd listen to it all)

he'd always pay and would tip well and we'd be on our way and now it's just forever linked in my mind being there and spending time with him.

it's kinda funny, too, because the one closest to our house actually got torn down not long after he died and i remember because i drove past it like, "i can't have SHIT in this house !!!!" but !!! my mom reminded me that he actually had stopped going to that one because he said it wasn't as good anymore so i almost wonder if he was like, "okay, let's do it again right this time !!" because now they're rebuilding it and i shit you not, it's about to be done right here around his birthday, like the lights are on in that bitch and i've seen employees outside smoking cigarettes, this ship is about it set sail !!!

oh and !! i think they're about to unionize ?? i saw a video about it the other day and one of their demands was security and when i was in there there was a lady that was in there with a shirt on that said "waffle house security" so !! that's neat. and good for them, goddamn. i know it's kind of a meme at this point, but that place really does stay open during goddamn everything and has seen and put up with goddamn everything so hat's off to the employees there, i hope they get everything they want and then some !!

anyway, enough of me rambling about the goddamn house made of waffles, but point is..................i have done a lot of work up until this point and now i'm going to settle in for the night, here in a few minutes i'm going to put our pupper to bed and then i'm going to have an absolute feast on some of the leftovers from yesterday and then probably stay up way later than i should doing whatever the fuck i feel like doing and tomorrow i'm just going to take it nice and easy and think about my dad a lot

i don't have anywhere i need to go, i've run all my errands, i'll probably be doing just a little more picking up and minor cleaning tonight so that in the morning and tomorrow i don't have to do a damn thing except take care of myself and the critters and my mom will be home at some point so we'll spend some time together in a nice clean house

oh, and !! yesterday i also tried my hand at making our dog's homemade food. (yes, he gets special food because he's a special boy and we love him very much)

my mom looked up a recipe for his breed and checked to make sure all the ingredients are doggo safe but it's mostly some type of meat (this time i used ground turkey but i think last time she used chicken), brown rice and vegetables like spinach, green beans, sweet potato, peas and carrots.

you throw all that in the crockpot with some unsalted chicken broth and a little bit of water and cook it for a few hours, stirring every few hours and bada boom, you've got enough food to fill up five containers that used to hold egg drop soup from a Chinese restaurant my mom likes. i think he liked it, too !! ( the food i made him, not the egg drop soup...)

but yeah, i think tomorrow's going to be okay. i'm sure i'll probably cry, i'm sure i'm going to miss him like hell, but i've also put in a lot of work to make this place really nice for all of us and i'm trying to pour as much good energy into this space as i possibly can so i'm going to get back to doing that and take it easy for the rest of my little vacation.

i hope if you're reading this you're doing well and also trying to take it easy. shit is....rough so you deserve a break and a little treat. be good to yourself if you can. love you <3

P.S.: LOOK AT THIS BLACK BEAN BURGER

also my free ice cream (with a color changing spoon !!)

:3

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 6: Mouthfeel

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

TW: awkwardness, some minor nudity, mentions of suicide (not graphic), Simone is a bitch in this chapter, slightly mentions of smoking and drugs, language, mentions of past criminal activity, slight cliffhanger.

Sorry about the late update y'all! I had a rough day yesterday and just didn't have the time to finish editing. Please enjoy! 🥰

Jake’s warm jacket draped over my shoulders as we walked up the beach house steps in silence. Neither of us really knew what to say at this point. What do you say following a near-death experience and a mutual trauma dump? With each step, I left a puddle of water behind me and mentally cursed myself for being stupid enough to jump into the ocean wearing the only pair of jeans I had in that old bag.

I swung the door open and did my best to ignore the fact that Jake was now not only fully aware of my raging mommy issues but was also stepping into the threshold of where those issues were mostly forged. Glass crunched beneath my feet. Right… There’s also that. “Uh, don’t fall. There’s glass everywhere down here.”

“Yeah, looks like you had quite the rager,” Jake mused quietly. “Need help cleaning it up?”

“No,” I replied, laying his jacket over the back of the couch. “I never clean up while I’m here. She can hire someone to do it when she comes back.”

He nodded, slowly moving through the living room and taking in the sight. “Looks like no one has been here for months.”

“Yeah, we moved around a lot for her business stuff. She doesn’t come here much anymore. Guess it wasn’t as fun without a kid to throw in the ocean.”

Jake chuckled at my poor attempt to ease the tension and kicked the empty bottles of booze. “Think you broke my bender record for the most amount of alcohol consumed.”

“Shut up.”

He looked at me, eyeing my still trembling, soaked form. “You should get changed.”

I nodded. “A great idea. Sadly I don’t exactly have a ton of spare clothes on hand.”

He replied with a barely restrained grin, “We’re both adults. A little nudity never hurt anyone.”

“You’re funny,” I responded, grabbing my bag from the kitchen counter to search my options. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. “Fuck.”

Jake clicked his tongue. “Looks like we’re in for an interesting night.”

With a sigh, I turned to face him. “No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But it’s a bit dark out now, and I’d hate to get caught wandering these dangerous streets at night.”

“Well, we both know how easy it’d be for you to get your ass kicked.”

“Absolutely. So, what’s the plan?” His smile grew unbearably wider as he raised a brow, drawing his eyes down the length of my body. “You wanna go first, or should I?”

I scoffed. “Do you really think I’m that easy?”

“If you were easy, I would’ve fucked you months ago, princess.” Jake took a step forward, relying on the play he always seemed to. Close the distance and force them into a corner to let the lack of space do all the work. And just like every time he’d tried it before, Jake was met with my body’s solid, unflinching mass.

“Really?” I asked quietly, deliberately keeping eye contact with him. “How many times have you tried this move?”

“A lot,” he admitted. “Though I’m not exactly complaining about how you respond to it.”

I set a hand on his chest and shoved him back. “Here’s the deal, I don’t have any dry clothes, and you don’t have any dry clothes. There’s a dryer in the upstairs bathroom. So you are going to shower because you smell like an old woman scrubbed you down with shitty ocean febreeze.”

“Not going to join me?” He asked flirtatiously.

“No. I will set up the bedroom for the two of us to sleep in. SLEEP in, no funny business.”

“I’d hardly call it funny-”

“Jake.”

He raised his hands with a smirk. “Alright, alright.”

I shook my head. “When you’re done, wrap a towel around your ass, and you can get in bed while I put our clothes in the dryer and shower. If you so much as try and peek, I’ll toss you in the ocean.”

“I kinda like it when you boss me around,” Jake replied with a wink. “Gonna give me a quick tour, or should I just start opening doors?”

Though his comment made my heart skip a beat, I rolled my eyes at him and led the way up the stairs and into my old room. I kept my head down as I showed him to the bathroom, trying as best I could not to let the belongings that had once been mine drag me back down. “Leave your clothes by the door, and I’ll grab them and put them in the dryer.”

He looked around the small bathroom, carefully snooping through the slightly dusty scene. “Last chance to join me. We could save some water.”

“Leave your shit by the door,” I replied, closing the bathroom door behind me as I set the bed.

The shower turned on after a minute or two of silence, allowing me a few minutes to breathe. I stood in the middle of the room, shivering slightly as I stared at the bare walls and the dusty surfaces that held one or two small trinkets. Nothing here was important… None of it was even real. The picture frames were empty, the ribbons and trophies held no memories of joy or any feelings of accomplishment, and none of the small trinkets I’d collected in my time here meant anything. 

This room was a tomb, a cage, a place haunted by the sons of a child and the endless stream of voices telling her she was not enough. I could practically see her bent over the desk by the window, desperately studying and afraid to look out the window. Afraid to watch the world and everyone in it pass by. You are enough, I wanted to tell her. You were always enough. But I knew she couldn’t hear me. I knew the past was set in stone. All her suffering and all her doubts and fears they’d already happened.

My hand settled against my shoulder, settled against the chilled skin marred by the hideous scar. I smoothed my fingers over it for a moment before snapping myself out of pity and regret of the past. Then, stripping the bed of its dust-covered blankets and sheets, I beat them out as best I could before putting it all back together. It smelt terrible, but it’d have to do. I shoved a few pillows in the middle, dividing the bed in half as the shower stopped.

Jake emerged from the bathroom with a towel hanging lowly on his hips, and his exposed chest glistened with leftover water. His arms were covered with dark tattoos, ones I didn’t get to look at closely before he leaned against the doorframe with a smile. “Left or right?”

“What?” I asked, quickly looking away from his chest to finish the bed.

I could practically feel Jake’s joy as he chuckled. “Do you prefer to sleep on the left or right?”

“I don’t really care either way,” I insisted.

He walked across the room and sat down on the left side, bouncing on the bed slightly before throwing his legs up and lounging back on the pillows. “I’ll take the left then.”

His smirk was unbearable as I turned and headed toward the bathroom. “Don’t fuck up the pillows.”

I tossed his wet clothes in the small dryer before stripping myself and adding my own to the machine. My whole body ached from swimming, and my head pounded. The hot water was a quick blessing, one that ran out quickly. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as the cold water stung my back. “Holy fucking shit!”

There was a soft knock at the door. “You alright in there?”

“You used all the hot water, asshole!” I hollered.

Jake chuckled. “Oops.”

“I swear to god I’m going to kill you.”

“That’d be pretty fucked up, considering I just spent my night saving your ass.” There was a pause before he spoke again, “Want me to join you? I’m sure we can find a way to heat the place up.”

“Open that door, and I’ll shove my foot all the way up your ass!”

His laugh, muffled by the door, still sent a shiver up my spine. No, I insisted. It’s just from the water. “Well, enjoy your cold shower then.”

“Dickhead.”

I was shivering when I’d rinsed the salty stench of the water off myself. I wrapped myself in a towel and turned the light off, quickly moving to my side of the bed and getting beneath the covers while Jake smiled at me over the pillows between us. He held his head up in his hand, resting on his elbow to watch me. “You know you’d be a lot warmer if we were closer. You know, body heat and all.”

I rolled my eyes and glared over at him. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’m just saying, it’s awfully cold.”

“You’re always welcome to warm yourself up downstairs with all the glass.”

Jake laughed, the movement shaking the bed slightly as he moved to settle down first the night. “Fine, I’ll keep my warm body on my side then.”

“Go to sleep.”

He was quiet for all of twenty seconds before he spoke again, “Can I ask you something?”

I groaned quietly, glaring at him even harder over the pillows barricading between us. “What part about “go to sleep” do you not get?”

“Come on, princess, indulge me a little.”

“I think I’ve indulged you more than enough.”

Jake smiled at me, the moonlight casting across the side of his face and making that dumb grin of his glow. “I’m insatiable, what can I say?”

“What do you want to ask?”

“You told me about your mom. About what happened back then.” Anxiety consumed every inch of me as I kept breathing in and out.

“And?”

“You never told me why you were out there tonight.”

My jaw clenched as I thought about what to say. Why had I gone out there tonight? Why had I chosen to leap off a boat into the fucking ocean? “I…” I sighed. “I was pretty shitfaced.”

Jake saw straight through the deflection. “Were you… Was this some kind of… attempt?”

That fear I’d seen in his eyes as he leaned over the side of the boat and begged me to take his hand was back, shining brighter now as it looked like he held back tears. “No,” I whispered, reaching over the barricade to squeeze his hand. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself.”

His eyes closed tightly as he squeezed my hand back. “Good. That’s good.”

Was that why he was still here? Did he think I’d jump back in the water the second he was gone? Clearing my throat, I pulled my hand back and settled into the covers, trying to regain a sense of separation from him. “No more questions til we’re both back in New York.”

“Oh?” He chuckled. “Will I get more than four next time?”

“Maybe,” I answered. “If you shut up and go to sleep.”

“Keep talkin like that, and I’ll be up all night, princess.”

I rolled my eyes before closing them tightly. “Stop calling me that.”

“Not a chance.”

“God, you’re annoying,” I teased with a smile.

Jake laughed. “It’s all part of my charm.”

*

Jake tossed and turned for a while before settling on his back, blinking the sleep from his eyes to stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. The ceiling of Lena Harrow’s old bedroom. The night’s events returned to him like a freight train as he quickly turned to look over the pillows where Lena had been sleeping. For a moment, he was worried she’d be gone, worried she’d wanted until he was asleep to sneak back out onto the water. That all melted away at the sight of her bare back glowing in the morning light.

Her red hair pooled over the pillow she buried her head into, and the bed shifted ever so slightly with each deep breath she took. Jake sighed before his eyes wandered down the smooth skin exposed to him. Her spine was decorated with a large tattoo, a snake shedding its dark, dull skin to reveal new pearlescent scales. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers along the gorgeous piece of art and trace the lines of her tattoo as well.

The same sensations he felt the day before rose to the surface. God, she’s perfect. Everything about her spoke to him, drawing him in like no one he’d ever known. She shifted slightly, making a soft noise that sent a wave of heat through him like damn lightning. He slid out from beneath the covers, careful to not jostle the bed and wake her up, though it was tempting just to see how she’d react to seeing his bare ass. If last night told him anything, she’d enjoy what she saw, just like she had when he exited the bathroom.

The room was void of the life and attitude that he knew Lena to have. The walls were painted a dull white, probably some pretentious name like eggshell or cream of some bullshit. There were no posters or pictures, no artwork, only photos of generic art that looked like it belonged in a hotel rather than a room. Trophies and ribbons hung from a few shelves, all for competitions he couldn’t imagine Lena enjoying. Mathematics, spelling, science, music… It wasn’t her. That was the point, though, wasn’t it? “I wasn’t like this back then.” He hadn’t known what she meant then, but he sure as hell did now. If this was the mold she’d been forced into as a kid, it was likely a hard thing to break out of. Jake looked back towards her, still sleeping beneath the covers, and felt sad. 

He didn’t get the normal childhood that other kids did. When he was younger, he hated them because of it. Hated everyone he came in contact with that had parents show up at recitals or parent-teacher conferences. Seeing this… Seeing how she had lived, been treated, and been put through for the first time, Jake considered that maybe she’d been right that night in the hall. Maybe he wasn’t the only one that had it bad. A dead mom was better than one that hated who you were so much she threw you in the ocean.

Jake had done his best to help the redhead out after the boat, but this situation was uncomfortable. He didn’t know how to act or what to say… and he really didn’t want to fuck this up. Lena’s trust and faith in him made him feel good. It made him think that maybe, just maybe, he could be the guy she thought he was, the guy Simone always wanted him to be. Dependable, honest, hardworking, selfless… Everything he felt he’d lacked.

Lena shifted again with another soft noise that made his mind go blank. If that’s how she sounds while she’s sleeping, just imagine how- He shut the thought down quickly and slipped into the bathroom to check on his clothes and to get some distance from her beautiful, naked, unholy sounds. His underwear and pants had dried nicely, but the shirt he’d worn along with Lena’s things was still damp. Jake restarted the machine and dressed as much as possible before quietly heading downstairs.

*

Waking up in the stiff musty bed felt like waking up years ago. It was unsettling how I lay there for a moment, waiting for her to come pounding on my door or even just waltz inside, uninvited to scold me for not getting out of bed fast enough. What was more unsettling was the silence. I turned, rolling face first to a wall of pillows that barred me from the other side of the bed. What the fuck? I peeked over at the unmade half of the bed, the used pillow, and the towel on the floor. It was then that I realized I hadn’t been dreaming about the insane events that occurred last night. I’d gotten drunk, drove a boat, and jumped into the ocean. Crazier than that was that Jake had found me… found me and stayed the night.

I couldn’t help but smile a bit as I recalled the way he snored loudly beside me, the way his feet and arms would ignore the pillows between us to seek out the person in bed beside him. Whether it was intentional or not, I didn’t know, but I wagered it’d be amusing as hell to find out. The room was empty. Jake must’ve grabbed his things and left before I woke up. I sighed, stretching the sleep from my limbs before making my way to the dryer to pull on the newly dried, still-warm clothes inside. My eyes were still heavy from sleep, and my head was pounding from the fun hangover I knew would be haunting me today.

I put my shoes back on and went downstairs to find some kind of medication or food before heading back to New York. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I turned toward the kitchen and stopped in my tracks. Jake was there, looking through cabinets and examining the boxes of expired food that no doubt was still inside. Just like last night, my eyes went to his tattoos. I couldn’t make out what most of them were from here, but I admired them nonetheless… them and the lean muscle of his exposed back and chest as he moved.

“Gonna stand there and stare at me all morning?” He asked, blue eyes flashing with that self-assured smug attitude of his.

“I thought you went home,” I deflected, moving to join him in the kitchen. “Why are you shirtless?”

Jake’s eyes shifted to look down at my chest, not unusual for him, though the way his lips curled into even more of a shit-eating grin should’ve been a warning. “Were you wanting me to peel it off your back or what?” I looked down at the t-shirt I’d grabbed from the dryer, his t-shirt. “I’m not opposed, of course, but there are far easier ways to ask me to strip you.”

I ignored how my face heated up at his words and shook my head. “I was still half asleep when I got dressed.” I turned back toward the stairs, pulling the shirt over my head and tossing it behind me. My shirt was stuck in the very back of the machine when I pulled it out and hissed, “Traitor.”

Jake was waiting in the living room, his shirt back on as his eyes scanned over the words of a book he’d found. He glanced up at me. “You could’ve kept mine, you know. We could’ve switched. 

“I think it would’ve been a bit of a tight fit on your end.”

“I could just walk around shirtless more. You seem to enjoy that.”

I scoffed and moved around the room, quickly packing what little I’d brought back into the bag I had brought. The tension in the air seemed to grow as the silence was weighed down by all that had been said between us. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, there’s not anything to eat here. I would’ve offered to make you shitty eggs or something.”

Jake chuckled, closing the book and setting it down where he’d found it. “As great as shitty eggs sound, I was thinking we could stop by a diner. It’s not far, and it’s usually not too busy.”

“Grumpy’s?”

“Yeah,” he smiled a bit, “I keep forgetting you lived here too.”

“It’s easy to forget,” I replied, nodding toward the door. “We can take the bike. I’ve gotta get going in a bit if I want to get back to the city before dark.”

“You’re leaving today?”

“Yeah,” I pulled my phone out of my bag and played the beginning of the thirty messages everyone had left me.

“Lena, you’d better fill that gas tank up before bringing my bike back!” Dom.

“Hey, fucking bitch, call me - us, I said US! Put that shoe down, Prue, I swear to God!” Quinn and Prue.

“Call me darling. You don’t have to talk. I just wanna know you’re safe,” Ozzy said.

“Lee,” Peter’s voice made a new wave of guilt hit me. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. Is everything okay?”

“Hey, shithead! Break another of those racks, and I will break your face! Sorry bout that, Lena,” Patrick said clearer into the speaker. “I know that was a lot… just call someone. Please. We’re starting to get worried.”

Jake looked at his feet as I closed the phone and shoved it back into my pocket. “Sounds like you’ll have a hell of a welcome home party.”

“More like a welcome home mob,” I replied.

“A mob is better than nothing,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.” I held his jacket out to him. “Here.”

He looked at it for a minute before shaking his head. “You wear it. It’s cold out today.”

“If it’s that cold, you’ll freeze without it.”

“I’m not the one that almost got hypothermia last night,” he responded with a winning grin. “Wear it.” 

I rolled my eyes and put it on. “Fine then.”

Locking the door behind me, the chilled gust of wind made me grateful that Jake had insisted I wear his jacket. I’d never openly tell him that; glancing back at the already too-smug look on his face, I shook my head. Nope. Never telling him that. He nodded toward the bike. “So this wasn’t the first time you stole a bike?”

“Nope,” I answered, pulling the keys out. “Dom freak out after I left?”

Jake shrugged. “Eh, he was more frustrated than anything.”

I nodded. “Yeah, well, considering how many times I’ve stolen this bike, I can’t blame him.”

“How many times have you stolen this bike?”

“Fifteen, maybe more.”

He whistled. “Damn, you’re kind of a criminal.”

I laughed and shrugged. “At least I’m a cute criminal, though.”

Jake laughed. “So, how are we doing this?”

“You ever been on a bike before?”

“Once,” he replied. “Wasn’t on it for long before Simone pulled me off, though.”

Swinging my leg over the side, I held the helmet out to him with a smile. “Newbies get the helmet.” He scoffed but put it on anyway. “Now, you just get on and hold on.”

His taller frame settled in behind me, keeping a vast distance between us. I laughed and took hold of them, placing them around my waist. “You’re gonna want to hold onto me.”

“I’ll take your word for it, princess.”

The bike came alive beneath us, and as we started to drive, I could feel a part of Jake come alive too. He laughed behind me, bright and full and childlike. It was a side to him I didn’t even know existed, but I enjoyed it, no matter how short-lived. Grumpy’s wasn’t far from my mom’s house, and Jake seemed to be almost disappointed by that as I found a place to park on the sidewalk, and we got off the bike. He pulled the helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy hair. “Next time I steal the bike, I’ll be sure to invite you.”

“Sounds like fun,” He replied, holding the helmet.

I set it down on the seat and clipped my bag to the front. “You’re buying.”

“Am I?”

“Think of it as payment for all the cigarettes you bummed off me.”

He shrugged. “I guess that’s only fair.”

We sat across from one another in a booth close to the windows so I could keep an eye on my things. Jake ordered waffles while I ordered pancakes, which led us to a quick debate on which was better, but once we’d grown quiet, that same awkwardness and tension settled over the table. Fuck it. “So, last night was kind of crazy.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “It was.”

“I…” I looked up and met his gaze. “I’m sorry for putting that all on you. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

Jake’s brows furrowed slightly. “I don’t mind. I was the one that asked.”

“Would you have asked if you hadn’t had to pull me out of the ocean?”

“Eventually,” he assured me. “Don’t apologize for that. Not to me.”

I smiled, “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you-”

“You would have been okay,” Jake interrupted. “I don’t… Let’s not talk about that.”

Right, his mom… I mentally cursed myself. “Okay, sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Sorry.”

Another minute of silence passed between us before Jake spoke again, “I’m not gonna tell anyone if you were worried about that.”

“Not even Simone?”

“No, not even her. Though if you were looking for someone to help with that kind of thing, she’d be willing.”

I shook my head, playing with my fingers beneath the table. “I’m sure she would.”

Jake frowned. “She’s good at helping with stuff like that. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s true. When I moved in with her family, she was all I had. She basically raised me.”

“Alright, let’s make a rule. No more talking about Simone. I understand she’s a big part of your life and that you’re, you know, whatever, but my opinion isn’t going to change, and I have a feeling our friendship isn’t going to last long if we’re constantly fighting over our opinions of Simone.”

“That’s fair,” he answered as the server placed our plates in front of us. “I’m still gonna argue with you about waffles, though.”

“Fair,” I replied. “But if you’re planning on getting into a debate over breakfast foods with me, prepare to lose.”

He cut into his waffle. “You’re that confident?”

“Absolutely,” I said, stuffing my mouth full of pancakes and making an exaggerated sound.

The longer I spent around Jake, the more I enjoyed his company. He didn’t make any faces or comments about how messily I ate; no matter how curious he was about my past here, he kept it to himself. Though he was undoubtedly an asshole, Jake wasn’t too bad. I finished my pancakes, and he finished his waffles, so the two of us just sat there talking about stupid stuff before the door opened, and Jake’s eyes darted toward it with a sigh. “There you are!”

“Simone,” he replied, shifting in his seat to make room for her. 

She slid in beside him, not even looking over at me while she frowned at him as she set his phone down. “You left this at the house. I’ve been worried!”

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” he said, glancing over at me. Simone finally turned her head, and her mouth fell open slightly. Then, with wide eyes, she composed herself.

“Lena,” Simone said with a taut smile. Her eyes were wider than usual as they fixated on the black jacket, Jake’s jacket, that hugged my shoulders and encased me in the smokey and woodsy scent. “I didn’t know you were in Cape Cod.”

I smiled, somewhat gladdened that Jake hadn’t told her. “Yeah, it was a last-minute trip.”

She hummed, her eyes shifting to Jake, whose face had drained of his usual charismatic glow and was now replaced with a nervous look that made his whole face seem tight and tense. “So this is what you got up to last night.”

“Simone,” Jake started with a sigh as she sat beside him.

“It’s fine,” she answered with a broader smile that didn’t even try to reach her eyes. “I’m sure it was something significant that kept you from coming home last night.”

Tilting my head to the side, I shrugged. “That’s on me, actually. My bike broke down by the beach, and Jake happened to see me. He offered to help, which took much longer than it should have.”

Her eyes practically drank up the lie as she pursed her lips. “Sounds like you were fortunate Jake was around.”

“I was,” I answered, looking back over at Jake. He knew the truth, and that was what mattered, so I shoved down the part of me that worried that truth would be exposed to Simone’s all too eager ears the second I left them alone.

Jake watched Simone closely as she ordered, his forehead creasing when she’d gotten a beer over coffee or water. He could tell something was off with her, and though it was pretty obvious even to me, Jake seemed to pick up on it more than I could just from the small things she said and did. My stomach churned uncomfortably at the sight of them. Was this what it had looked like to everyone else? I wondered, darker memories simmering just below the surface. Was it this obvious that something was wrong between us? 

“So, what brings you to the Cape?” Simone asked as she settled into her seat beside Jake.

“It’s a personal matter,” I answered without hesitation and without apology. “Not really something I’d feel comfortable burdening a coworker with.” The message was clear. Move on.

She looked far too smug about the response as she nodded. “I understand personal matters can be quite difficult to navigate. But we’re always available should you need someone to help you find your way around. Jake and I grew up here, after all.”

I smiled, trying my best not to laugh at her apparent scramble to find a foothold that would tether me to her and force me to rely on her as Jake and so many others at 22West did. “I’m not staying, but thanks for the offer.”

Jake watched her as she took a long drink of her beer, worry solidifying on his features. “You’re leaving so soon?”

“Oh, I’ve been here for days,” I answered.

“Really? Where have you been staying?” Jake nudged her slightly, an apparent attempt to dissuade her from pressing questions, one that failed as she giggled softly. “Sorry, it’s just I know how difficult finding a decent hotel can be around here. I wouldn’t want you to have trouble sleeping because the bed is too lumpy or the place reeks of dead fish.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to worry, though,” I adjusted the jacket on my shoulders, “I slept just fine.”

How her face dropped for a moment told me everything I needed to know about her and Jake’s relationship. If I wasn’t sure before, I was now. Not only was Simone like my mother, she was like him too. A cold spike of rage coursed through my veins as I looked over at Jake’s timid and almost childlike behavior before meeting her eyes again. This time I let my polite mask drop. This time I let Simone have exactly what she wanted, a look into my thoughts. I know what you are. 

Her smile faltered as we stared one another down for a short moment. Then, she fixed her mask. “That’s good. There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep.”

“I can think of a few things,” I replied, carefully pulling out my dwindling pack of cigarettes. “Like one last smoke.” I nodded toward the door. “Want to join me?”

He looked uncertain, looking at Simone for that ever-so-subtle nod before joining me. “Sure.”

The fresh air made the heavy weight of Simone’s gaze burning holes into my skull feel somewhat lessened as I leaned against the wall beside Jake and lit the cigarette, taking a quick drag before holding it out to him. “Sorry, you’re in the doghouse because of me.”

Jake shrugged, slowly regaining his usual attitude and demeanor. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to being on Simone’s nerves.”

“I can imagine.”

“She’s not usually like this,” he assured me quietly. “Ever since her ex came to visit a while back, she’s been… off.”

She’d get no sympathy from me, but for Jake’s sake, I shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with far worse people.”

Jake handed the cigarette back to me with a sad look. “She reminds you of your mom, doesn’t she?”

“A little,” I replied. “More so someone else that makes my mother look like a saint.”

He tilted his head carefully. “Who?”

I smirked. “You used up your questions last night.”

“Do you always have to make getting to know you so difficult?” He questioned with a smile.

“Of course. If I didn’t, you’d get bored.”

“I don’t think I’d ever get bored of you,” he replied, softer than before, with a gleam of something in his eyes… something nervous and unnamed. 

I could see Simone watching us closely from the corner of my eye like a predator watching over the prey she’d long staked her claim to. Jake wasn’t a game and certainly wasn’t anyone to claim. I pulled the cigarette from between Jake’s lips and took one last drag of it, closing my eyes to savor the smokey taste that filled my mouth as I exhaled. “Well, time for me to head out.” I placed what remained between Jake’s lips and slid past the window, making deliberate eye contact with Simone, waving at her as I walked towards Dom’s bike.

“Try not to wreck it,” Jake said, standing up from his comfortable position against the wall. “It’d suck to get back to the city and hear you’d been beaten to death by angry bikers.”

With a smirk, I swung my leg over and straddled the bike. “Or it’d be super badass coming back and hearing about how I beat the shit out of 20 angry bikers.”

He laughed, and his eyes softened. “See you at work, Lana.”

“See you then, Jerk.” I pulled the helmet over my head and started the bike, revving the engine before flipping Jake off and speeding down the street. He stood on the curb for a minute before turning and walking into the diner to face Simone.

I let the light rush of adrenaline wash over me as I drove. The engine roaring replaced the sound of the ocean. The smell of Jake on his jacket replaced the bitter tang of salt. The wind forced anything left of Cape Cod off me and left it where it belonged. Fuck the cape. I repeated to myself.

*

He sat back down across from Simone with a sigh, folding his hands on the table and watching her quietly eat the simple breakfast platter she’d ordered. Watching Simone drink anything other than wine made him feel weird, but seeing her do so this early in the morning was just concerning. “You hate beer.”

Simone smiled, chuckling as she examined the bottle in her hand. “I do.”

“How was the rest of the night with your mom?”

“You’d know the answer if you’d bothered to come back last night.”

“Simone,” Jake sighed. He felt guilty about not calling to let her know what had happened, but he hadn’t been able to think straight until this morning. It was something he found happened often when Lena was involved. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” She shook her head. “Sorry is something you say when you forget to bring wine or dessert. You just disappeared, Jake. Sorry, it doesn’t cut it this time.”

“It’s personal okay,” Jake replied flippantly.

“Personal?” Simone hissed. “More personal than all I’ve done and sacrificed for you?”

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not my shit, Simone. It’s not my place to share it with you.”

Her pale eyes stared back at him with a downturned face of disappointment that he was familiar with. “Was she any good?”

“Jesus,” he scoffed. “I didn’t sleep with her.” Of course, technically, he did, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Simone that.

“Let’s not play games, Jake,” she said while taking a drink. “We both know how you are, especially with new coworkers.”

Whether she meant it as a dig towards his short relationship with Tess or not didn’t matter, it hurt all the same. He leaned over the table a bit more. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

She watched him for a minute before she finally sighed. “Good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call last night. I didn’t really have time to think about it.”

“What happened?”

This was the moment he’d dreaded. Jake didn’t want to lie to Simone. It was one of their oldest rules, one that Simone mainly took seriously. But if he told her what happened last night, she’d no doubt try to help. It was just who she was, and that’d put a swift and bitter end to the friendship he’d just reestablished with a girl who was more like him than he thought. “It’s just like she said. I helped her out, lost track of time, and ended up crashing on her couch.” Her bed. The bed that made it impossible to smell anything but her.

“And where was she staying?”

“Simone-”

“The least you could do is tell me where you were. I-”

“Simone!” He interrupted. “Lena’s shit isn’t our problem. I helped her out. That’s it. Do you not trust me?”

She reached across the take and took hold of his hand. “Of course I do. You know I do. The one I don’t trust is her.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “I mean, I know you two don’t get along, but she hasn’t been anything but nice to everyone.”

“Nice is not a word I’d use to describe that girl.” Simone shook her head. “I read her file. Howard’s old system was actually useful for once.” She leaned in closer. “Lena Harrow is dangerous, Jake. Did you know she had a criminal record? Fighting, drugs, stealing, arson.”

With all he’d learned about her in just one night, Jake felt the list of crimes was relatively small compared to what he’d been picturing. Lena had a dark past; there was no denying that. “I’m not saying I know everything about her, but-”

“No buts. Just… Don’t sleep with her, and don’t get too attached,” Simone’s face softened, and large tears began to well in her eyes as she spoke. “I care about you, Jake. And I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

He held her hand. “I know. I promise I’ll be careful, Simone.”

*

I pulled up to the warehouse, parked the bike next to all the others, and knocked on the side door. A large man, lovingly known among Dom’s gang as Fluffy, opened the door and smiled down at me. “Dom in?”

“He’s at Nana’s,” Fluffy replied.

“Thanks!”

Weaving through the heavy foot traffic of the city, I squeezed through Nana’s door and offered the elderly woman a smile, one she met with a scowl. She quickly rolled up one of the newspapers and stalked from behind the counter toward me. The swats were too quick to dodge as she cursed in Arabic. “You worried us!” She shouted. “Stealing that bike and riding off, no phone calls, no notes!”

“I’m sorry, Nana!” I shrieked, rubbing my arm where she’d hit me. 

She pulled me into a tight hug and squeezed hard. “You never do that again! You understand me!”

I hugged her back. “I promise, Nana.”

When she finally pulled back, she shooed me toward the corner. “He’s in his seat.”

Dom always commandeered the booth in the very back of the restaurant. Said it was good for business even though everyone knew dealing beneath Nana’s roof was against the rules. He ate the food in front of him, wordlessly offering me the seat across from him. I slid his keys across the table. “It’s got a full tank.”

“Good,” he said, putting them back in his pocket. “Did it give you any problems?”

“No.”

Dom looked at me for a moment before he sighed and asked, “You feel better?”

With a shrug, I answered, “I guess.”

“I’m sorry about the jacket.”

“Dom, that was-” He held up a hand to stop me.

“I know it’s not the only reason you did it, but the last straw to set you off. My guy did it, and I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. I’d offer to replace it, but we both know it was one of a kind.”

I sighed. “I don’t blame you for what happened, but thanks.”

He took a few more bites before asking, “How was Cape Cod?”

“Shit, as always.” I smiled. “But I guess it was better than the last few times.”

“That got anything to do with the tough guy?”

“What?” I looked at him with wide eyes and a, hopefully, slight blush. “How did you-”

“He mentioned having to pack for a trip to The Cape. It wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.” Dom smiled a bit. “I was just glad you’d have a familiar face around.” After a minute, he reached over and held my hand. “I’ve gotta tell you something, but promise you’re not gonna freak out and steal my shit again, okay?”

Dom was rarely this cautious about what he said, and it put me on edge instantly. “Okay.”

He squeezed my hand as he spoke. “One of my guys saw a familiar car driving through.”

“Familiar car?” I asked before the realization hit me, along with the memories of that engine roaring and the tires squealing beneath every movement. “Dom…”

“Relax,” he ordered quickly. “I’m looking into it. You’ll be the first to know if there’s anything to worry about. I promise.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Dom waited to pull back until my breaths had evened out. “You should head to Ozzy’s. Those two have been worried.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Dom.”

“No problem, kid, just don’t steal my bike again.”

“No promises.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

Nana filled my arms with to-go boxes, and I made my way to the bar. The security team grabbed a box from my arms and greeted me quickly. I set one down and tapped the bar, making sure the two bartenders knew it was for them before heading into Ozzy’s office. He sat with his back turned to me, looking down at a stack of papers. Finally, I knocked on the wall. “Hey.”

He turned and jumped up, pulling me into a big hug. “Thank Jesus! You’re not allowed to do that ever again!”

“I breathed in the comforting smell of Ozzy’s smoke and sighed. “Sorry, Oz.”

“Don’t be,” he insisted. “Just pick up the phone next time.”

My dad’s ruined jacket sat on the desk on top of a pile of things. It made me sad looking down at the remains of such a big part of my life. “I didn’t mean to ignore your calls. I just… It’s been a long week.”

He smiled. “I know, darling. But it’s okay now. You’re home, where we can all take care of each other.”

“Does Pete know?”

“No.” Ozzy shook his head. “I figured it’d be best, all things considered, to not tell him you’d run off.”

“Good. He needs to focus on getting better.”

Ozzy nodded in agreeance. “Patrick and I discussed what we wanted to do next week when he gets out of the hospital. He’s been asking to meet your coworkers for a while now.”

I groaned. “You’re not going to suggest what I think you are, right?”

“Between the three of us, we have enough to take him to 22West. So he’d get to meet your coworkers and have a high-end meal. It’s a win for everyone.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “I guess I owe you two this since I was gone.”

Patrick appeared in the doorway, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “This mean I need to get a suit?”

“Yes,” I answered. “It’s a pretty high-end place.”

“Say no more, sis. I’m on it.”

Ozzy smiled. “I think I have something that would work.”

“No hats.”

“Damn.”

*

I took the next few days off to readjust to the city and calm my nerves about returning to the restaurant. It was little more than a paranoid feeling that I’d return to Maddie back in the kitchen or, worse, my mother waiting in the front room for me. When I did go back, these feelings were quickly depleted as Scott looked up from prep and scoffed. “Bout fuckin time. Go get something to eat and then get to prepping.”

“Yes, Chef,” I answered, nodding to Isaac. “It’s good to be back.”

“Yeah yeah, hurry it up, Red!”

Changing into my shirt, I stared at my empty locker for a moment, quietly mourning the space dads jacket used to fill up. My fingers ran over the open air as I turned to smack right into someone’s chest. Jake’s familiar laugh made me look up with a smile. “Miss me that much?”

I rolled my eyes and took a step back. “There goes my good day.” He squeezed past me and opened his locker, looking at the leather jacket I’d stuffed inside. “I took the liberty of returning your jacket.”

“How’d you know my combination?”

“Sasha.”

“Right,” Jake chuckled, holding the jacket in his hands for a second before holding it out to me. “Why don’t you keep it for a while?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got another one.”

I smiled, turning toward the door. “So do I. Keep your jacket, Jake.”

The second I walked into the front room and toward the long table filled with people eating the family dinner, Sasha jumped up and wrapped me up in a big hug. He demanded to hear about my criminal history as Will set a plate in front of me. From across the table, Simone smiled as Jake slid into the seat next to her. The two of us held one another’s gaze for a moment before Howard broke the stiff silence. “Lena, welcome back. How was your vacation?”

“Oh, it was a hoot,” I answered.

He hummed, “So you found a place with the worst bed and drank all week?”

I laughed and nodded. “You know me, Howard, always the party animal.”

Howard nodded, sliding a small piece of paper across the table to me with a more careful smile. “Today, we’ve been gifted with a spectacular vintage.”

The paper unfolded, and a cold wave washed over me as I traced my mother’s handwriting. Leave a tip for the cleaners next time. I practically scoffed at the simple message before I tore the paper up and stuffed it into my pocket. Jake looked at me from across the table but said nothing as we ate the family dinner and drank the fancy wine.

Being tossed into the throws of a busy night of service felt exhilarating after the long break I’d taken. The kitchen was finally back to its normal flow as all traces of Maddie’s visit were washed away by Scott’s powerful voice and creative mind. As soon as things slowed down, I nodded at Santos. “Need some help with those dishes?”

He laughed. “Does it matter what I say?”

“Nope!” I smiled back. “Give me one second, and I’ll hop in and help.”

I wiped my hands down and shrugged my cook’s coat off, hanging it off the railing as I slid out the kitchen door and behind the bar. Nicky smirked at me as he cleaned some glasses. The restaurant was basically empty. Servers stood by the bar waiting for the last few tables to begin vacating, and Jake made one last drink for the only person sitting at the bar. I stepped behind him and smiled, gently tapping his shoulder. “You’re it.”

He looked at me with a scoff. “Pretty sure that’s cheating.”

“Pretty sure I don’t care,” I replied. 

“You know I’m just going to tag you once I’m finished with this drink, right?”

“You can try,” I egged on, sneaking back into the kitchen and sliding beside Santos to help wash the last dishes. 

Isaac was back to telling the whole kitchen his crazy stories bringing the entire kitchen to a loud clamor of laughter and comments. Because of the noise, I didn’t hear the steps as they settled in behind me until it was too late. Jake leaned over my shoulder and smirked, tapping my nose with his finger. “You’re it.”

He ducked away before I could splash him with dishwater. “I’m gonna tag you with this nasty wet hand!”

“Lookin forward to it, princess!” He yelled as he climbed the stairs toward the locker room.

Isaac leaned on the counter beside me, wiggling his eyebrows. “Princess?”

I splashed him. “Fuck off!”

Once the dishes had been put on the rack, the kitchen grew empty, and Santos and I walked upstairs to change. I smiled when I opened my locker and saw Jake’s jacket stuffed inside. Sneaky asshole. I shrugged it on, having forgotten to grab my own before returning his. One more night of wearing it wouldn’t kill me, and I’d gotten rather fond of how it smelled and felt around my shoulders.

Everyone was crowding around the bar when I got downstairs, everyone but Simone and Howard, of course. Howard smiled at me while Simone took one look at me, the jacket, and turned her face away. Jealousy didn’t look good on her. From behind the bar, Jake’s eyes ran down my outfit, and he smiled. I ignored how it made my stomach flip and how I wanted to make him smile again. 

“What are we talking about?” I asked, sliding into the seat beside Ari.

She smiled. “Tattoos. “

Sasha pointed at Jake’s arm. “We were just mocking Jakey’s shitty mermaid.”

I looked at the bartender’s modest mermaid tattoo on his inner arm. “Hey, that looks kind of like mine.”

“You’ve got a mermaid tattoo?” Jake asked with a smirk. “Show it to me.”

“No!”

Heather leaned in closer. “Ooohhh, I know what that means!”

Sasha and Ari cooed in my ears. “Where’s it at?”

“I bet it’s right over her pu-”

“I’m not telling any of you vultures!”

“Well, I know it’s not on your back,” Jake said smoothly, his smile never faltering.

I scoffed. “What happened to no peeking?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was always gonna peek, princess.”

Sasha nearly spat his drink out, wide eyes moving back and forth between the two of us. “Did Jakey finally take your flower, lovely Tiger Bitch?”

“No,” I replied, shoving him.

“Did get a pretty sweet view of you naked, though.”

“Bullshit!” I shoved a finger in his face. “If you’d have seen me naked, then you’d know exactly where the mermaid is.”

He lifted his chin up, smug and eating up all the attention. “Maybe I do.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t waste time demanding to see it.” I leaned back in my seat and smiled. “Shame, it’s in a good spot too.”

The cogs in his brain were practically visible as he thought about every possible location before leaning on the bar. “Ass?”

“Nope.”

“One of your boobs, then?”

“No,” I laughed. “And even if it was, you’d never get to see it.”

“Never say never.”

Sasha gagged. “If the two of you could just do the nasty already and quit the dirty talk, we would all appreciate it!”

Scott shook his head as he downed the last of his drink and stood. “Dinner, whose in?”

“I’m picking tonight!” Ari cheered over his shoulder, making the man wince.

“Great, everyone, prep your stomachs for some shitty Italian or something.” Ari punched him in the shoulder, and everyone laughed as we headed out the door.

*

As he walked beside Lena, Jake couldn’t shake the warning Simone had given him a few days ago in the diner or the looks she gave him each time he interacted with Lena. The redhead wearing his jacket laughed beside him at something Sasha had said from the front of the group. “Hey,” Jake said, pulling her lively green eyes to his. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ready for our question game already?” She teased with a smirk.

He couldn’t help but smile as well. “I was actually wondering something a bit more serious.”

“Oh?” She asked, tilting her head. “Well, I guess I could give you a freebie just this once.”

“How generous.”

She nudged him. “What’s on your mind?”

How was he supposed to start this? “I… I may have heard a few things about you that I wanted to ask about.”

“Well, there’s a good chance I’ll have answers. What did you hear?” She asked. 

“I heard you have a pretty extensive criminal record.”

Lena didn’t even bat an eye as she nodded. “Yeah, I do. Was there a particular crime you were curious about?”

Jake shrugged. “I guess I was just wondering how much of it was true.”

“Oh,” she said with a laugh. “Well, that’s easy then! I’ve got a lot of charges under my belt for fighting. It was all illegal rings, though, so no assault or anything crazy. Stealing was another big one. I don’t even know how many times I got busted for that.” She shook her head. “I was kind of shit at it.” She hummed quietly, trying to remember. “Oh, there’s drugs, obviously. Just buying, no distribution or smuggling or anything.”

“Any arson?” He asked.

She scoffed. “Okay, that one wasn’t on me! Some assholes were harassing Quinn at the club she works at, so she called me and Prue and Patrick to help walk her home. She didn’t tell us she’d dumped gasoline all over the sidewalk until after she lit the damn thing on fire to try and scare them. Bitch almost took off my eyebrows. Anyway, the cops showed up and arrested all of us. My dad and Ozzy were fucking pissed.”

Jake looked at her with furrowed brows. How the hell did she do this? Lena looked up at him and poked his forehead. “You do that more, and you’ll hurt yourself. What’s up?”

“Why are you so honest?” He asked.

“You asked,” she answered. “Did you want me to lie?”

“No,” Jake shook his head and chuckled. “I just… You’re just something else.”

She leaned closer to him and smiled. “Something good, I hope.”

Jake looked down at her and quietly agreed. She was something good. That night he watched her closely, trying to see what Simone did. Trying to figure out why she was so against him getting closer to the redhead, but the more he looked, the more he liked what he saw. As she tapped his shoulder and whispered another playful, “You’re it.” Jake threw all his notions of not knowing who Lena was out the window. He knew exactly who she was, and he trusted her.

*

I walked in the front door, quickly readjusting the straps of my dress before giving the hostess my name and telling her I was waiting for the rest of my party. Nicky spotted me from the bar and smiled. “Hey, Red, I thought today was your day off.”

“It is,” I answered, taking a seat at the bar. “I’m here as a guest tonight.”

“A guest,” he swooned. “Moving up in the world, are we?”

Jake returned from the back, pausing when he saw me. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“Our little Red is a guest tonight,” Nicky said with a smile.

“A guest?” Jake pressed as he refilled the ice.

I scoffed. “I could be a guest.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Nicky asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No one,” I answered. “I’m here for a family dinner.”

Jake laughed at that. “Family dinner? I’m dyin’ to see what your family comes in lookin like.”

I nodded. “Me too. I told them it was upscale, but Ozzy’s version of that makes him look like an old victorian count and Patrick.” I winced. “Patrick is going to show up in something fucking hideous. So, I guess I should apologize in advance for you guys having to look at them all night.”

“Well, I don’t know about Nicky, but their outfits won’t bother me.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be too busy looking at yours.” He winked.

I turned my head away from Jake’s smile, an attempt to hide the blush that no doubt dusted my face with red. However, the sight waiting for me at the front was one that made me do a double take. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

[acebytaemin]

can you pleaaaaase translate the tags in balkan on the purple haired lee know set? the crowd is on the edge of their seat

IN BALKAN is sendinggggg me omg but ofc babe these ones aren’t even bad i can share confidently. *clears throat* so. the tags are as follows:

so first of all lutka means doll (feminine form) which i LOVE calling people in croatian men specifically. but anyway loš by breskvica is this song right here

just to paint the picture. the specific lyrics i chose ‘a ja bi da ti igram cele noći / mirišem ti na killian crne oči’ means ‘i want to dance for you all night / smell like killian / black eyes’ but the way it’s phrased is like ‘i smell like killian to/for you’ but idt he wears killian idk he smells like but to be honest it could be febreeze fuck if i care. ‘ti nisi fin bebe’ means ‘you’re not nice baby/babe’ which. self explanatory all of this tbh iykyk 🫶🏻

then loša by breskvica:

and the only lyric i mentioned was ‘zmija balkanska’ which means ‘balkan snake’ which <33 but tbh this song is kinda me in general. also loš = bad (male form) and loša = bad (feminine form) hope that helped!

[trentskis]

it has been a ridiculous day (5 hrs) at my minimum wage job n i simply need to tell someone. i’m so sorry. in no particular order, found out i work w a convicted paedo, a man came in that had shat himself so bad i couldn’t cover the smell w febreeze, a diff man made me cry 10 mins into my shift talking about his dead wife, i cried again when a dog w a jumper on walked past, cried 2 more times for no reason, the shop (inside!!) got egged n a wee boy stole 150 quid of vapes. also my manager smells so bad. like god i need to quit but also it’s hysterical xxx

anon i won't lie this has absolutely floored me and i have no idea what to respond to first. i am very sorry u experienced that all in 5 hours what the everloving fuck

[catrose13]

Chapter 4 A Very Particular Set of Skills... "Learning things whether you want to or not" is my favourite of this chapters "Brought to You By" The chapter art also continues to be awesome

Mokuba is very unimpressed with Pegasus' hostage keeping skills

"in his Barbarous rage" yikes, he was feral enough without Barbarous rage

What's an evil lair without a bottomless pit?

..."Testicular-trauma based revenge" yikes, Mokuba possibly you should avoid the guards

He thanks the Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon topiary bush, aw

Lol Pegasus you underestimated Mokuba

...Joey...are you...breaking the Fourth Wall? Are you allowed to do that?

Poor Yugi, clowns can be very disturbing. Téa's ready to throw down, no clowns gonna touch her friends

Honestly I don't think the foxes need training to steal from people

Heh using facts you learnt an hour ago to make your point, nice one Joey

Ah Joeys Mom returns once more to prove how bad a parent she is

"Lost" can have so many connotations

...Joey this is the second time you've touched upon the Fourth Wall is there something you'd like to tell us?

So many ocean facts. I am definitely learning

Wow dolphins are assholes

Yugi...how many crimes are you going to encourage during this tournament?

Poor naive Yami "Oh I thought this would be because of the Shadow Game, glad we're only messing with his money" "No we're definitely gonna fuck him up" paraphrased

Mako knows so many "mad reliable people"

The casual shade thrown at the British museum

Pegasus, the joke wasn't funny to begin with

...I thought ketamine was a vet thing, can it be prescribed to humans?...Google says it can good to know

Kemo you really should have listened to your Grandma

Pegasus you're still talking in Capital Letters and it's less Ominous than you think and a lot more... concerning

...Cornered Rabid Mongoose, I can see why the Parasite would want to avoid that outcome

Bakura is really not a fan of this or any of the Parasites adventures, and yet he finds ways to make the most of it.

Joey...again with the Fourth Wall

Secrets age like melons because aged milk can still be cheese. Yami just spilling truths into the world

Poor Yami, so confused, "Where are all these people coming from? And why do they hate you?"

"Spiritual Appendectomy With A Chainsaw" Welp that's one way to explain what they did to Kaiba

Ohp Joeys measuring the shoulder height, he's noticing the differences!!

...Tristan I think it's a bit late to be shielding Mokuba's innocence

Sweet mercy Téa is beating the crud outta those guys

Yikes, No Kemo the Kids are Not Alright

Oh Yami is now well ready to mess Pegasus up, ya done fucked up

"Pegasus’ idea of Benevolence is probably several war crimes in a cartoon trench coat" Welp you're not wrong Marik

Hodgekiss I do not think he meant you when complimenting his work force

The Russians are not Twins Marik, they are really not Twins

Oof Hodgekiss

Yugi really is the more feral of the two of them isn't he?

Duels as a Ritual, is actually really interesting, especially in the context of Ancient Egypt and dispute solutions

...The Hippo

He makes sure to strictly obey the Rules of the Ritual to avoid Hippos

Dammit Joey stop poking the Fourth Wall...I think I'm going to start counting

Oh no you hit Yugi's Berserk Button

"Speak not to me of this 'Febreeze'" Brilliant, just wonderful

Oh no Grandpa this is what happens when you endear yourself to the Gods

Grandpa...you are denying the existence of Gods to the face of a God...

...The Hippos again... Why does this God want to continue being able to fight Hippos?

"Beloved" Gramps... Is there something you need to tell us?

Yugi is definitely not a fan of the Abomination...Boys speaking in Capitals...

Lol cold as burning anger and Yugi still has time to throw shade on Yami

Joey and the others are unaware of Mokuba's recent Finger biting adventures

Tristan. Tristan Did you just give Mokuba what I think you just gave Mokuba? Tristan the last thing this feral child needs is a gun. You better not have just given him a gun. Tristan!

Intense Battle Focus....Cheerful phone call... Poor Yami bugs freak me out too

Noot-Noot

Joey has a spare tea pot just incase they use the first one to destroy a Ghostly Abomination?

Heh Anti-Ghost-Teapot-Grenade

Pegasus should really know better than to screw around with the rules of a shadow game

No Croquet they did not give you shrooms, Yami is invoking Great Powers

Hello Anubis...Goodbye Goons

Kaiba could possibly stand to expand on his decorating scheme

"tortured into submission" is that what we're calling Pegasus' love of terrible cartoons?

"Divine Guidance"? What God is guiding you Seto?

He's channelling Salmon...an interesting choice

How expensive are these plushies? And why is it so big?

Yeah pants are probably a good idea right about now

[carbonateddelusion]

yooo you got any hcs for the spam spam puppet?

oh yeah sure!! I haven't been super actively thinking of hcs but here

His clothing is absolutely torn to tatters. it's a patchwork mess of a bunch of vaguely matched fabrics and he hasn't changed since the day he got booted out of the castle

I really like the idea of him being this. partly machine/magic creature (inspo by @/gatorbeast)... with fiber optic cables for whiskers

The Acid Theory isn't a thing with my Spam- he underwent a transformation from an Addison to a literal puppet, slowly morphing into more and more of an "inanimate" object during the process of his glory days- it's something he tried VERY hard to hide, but gave up after everything tanked. also he was always a short king

He's still just a plastic/wooden puppet under all of that clothing (except for a squishy beanbag-like torso), tho I do like the idea of him returning to a. more alive? monster body like he was as an Addison if he could get his hands on a Lightner human soul

The bits and bobs of his puppet bits are animated by his own soul, sometimes he can manifest tendrils out of his magic but it takes a lot of focus

This man is chock-full of computer viruses. fuck McAfee, you need some Norton 360 Deluxe

If you were to actually purge his body of all of those viruses, he'd speak MUCH more coherently and the [[text]] bits would not be there

His speech and thought patterns WITH the virus are incredibly random and essentially like ADHD ×100,000%. it's hard to get him to focus on anything that isn't related to tech things or money and he seldom gives direct answers

He needs a BATH. definitely stinks. get the Febreeze

has a soft spot for cats after living in the castle with the tasques

Glass ego. one moment he's convinced he's a gift to Darkner kind and one day he'll prove it, the other he's sitting in the bin moaning about how fucked up his life has been

Agoraphobic. even taking him into your house takes a lot of time because he doesn't like how "empty" it is. would require his own little claustrophobic space to retreat to, something like a crawl space or a closet

Doesn't know how to talk to people outside of brownnoser or car salesman mode. it doesn't actually make him all that upset or anxious, just a little frustrated because he can't properly communicate ideas, wants, and needs

[sunshinexlollipops]

what the hell is up w cockroaches this year? I never dealt with them when I was young and now suddenly they're always popping up everywhere I go but THIS ROACH was fucking DIFFERENT. he played MIND GAMES. bc I'm dog and house sitting rn and I was using the restroom when I got jumped. y'all don't understand........it found me at my most vulnerable. I was literally caught w my pants between my legs bc I was SHITTING when he appeared and was inches from me and he's HUGE and WINGED and I leapt off the toilet w boom boom still on the booty bc he thinks I wanted company for the occasion. and the house I'm staying at........has no roach or ANY bug spray.....and y'all.....this roach is playing psychological warfare. it wasn't just about wandering around and snackin— this dude was waiting for me when I was coming for him, and we were having multiple western standoffs in the adjacent foyer of this house and it's every time I'm walking by, ready to get his ass, he came CHARGING out of the bathroom like a sewer's braveheart. we're playing cat and mouse and we still don't have an idea who is what. he goes to sit vertically on the doorframe and stare at me after I sprayed FEBREEZE all over him to no effect. he also tries to crawl across the bathroom and foyer floor and I try to kill him broom-style...the damn thing lives, is uninjured, and scurries off.

I freak out and also have to give ground bc I'm having to psych myself up because admittedly, he got the upper hand on me from the start. he destroyed any confidence I would have had by showing up mid-turd. so I have to brace myself over and over, and when I come back to face him, this fucking thing decides he's gonna try and flee the bathroom again towards me and I tried another broom hit....WHICH HE, AGAIN, SURVIVED. so I go pacing around the house in hopes to find any weapons bc I'm losing the battles and I cannot lose the war, and I find some hope— a flyswatter.*

it's dinky and has a fake sunflower on one side and I'm like UGH OKAY and I'm literally preparing to go get him and HE IS IN THE FOYER RUNNING TOWARD ME WHEN I ROUNDED THE CORNER. LIKE HE KNOWS IM ARMED. so I go to slap him so hard it sends him and his entire species down back to the Devil himself and HE DODGES IT. ends up spinning like a loony tunes character trying to skedaddle and runs under the door into an adjacent room. I'm hoping he realizes to get the hell out of dodge for good, but I'm also waiting to ambush his ass bc I have a gut feeling this isn't over. and it wasn't— I happen to look over and I see him making a dash to the bathroom again. I notice he has a limp now and isn't as fast and won't climb, and I'm like okay— now is the time. I drive back to my own house that is nearby and I grab my roach spray. bc one of us has to fold and it will NOT be me. and so I come back and rest in the room by the foyer, I can see the bathroom door and foyer from where I'm sitting, and I'm like alright let's take a second......I had already sprayed around the doorways in the foyer, and sent a little of the spray into the bathroom in the hopes the smell would drive him away if he hadn't left.

atp its been an hours long saga and I'm like, lemme take a break and when I'm ready I'll fumigate this bitch.... remember the * I put after finding the flyswatter? I was literally writing this post when this next part occurred... bc I had another gut urge to look over towards the bathroom, and thERE HE IS AGAIN IN THE FOYER! MAKING ANOTHER DASH FOR THE ADJACENT ROOM! SO I CHARGE HIS ASS W THE SPRAY AND IM GOING FULL BLAST ON THE NOZZLE OVER HIM WHILE TAILING HIM BACK INTO THE BATHROOM UNTIL HE FUCKING FLEES INTO THE BATHROOM FLOOR VENT. SO I SPRAY A BIT DOWN THERE AND THEN SHUT IT ON HIS ASS AND NOW HE CAN'T RETURN.

since then the house has felt different. like a demon has been cleansed. I believe I have killed the beast, or sentenced it to die a very painful and slow death in the vent he sought refuge in.......and I can only feel like it wasn't enough for him.

I've been on the phone w both my parents tonight, I've been laughed at through my version of David versus Goliath, and I got discord messages saying this :(((

may this fucker rot and mold

[clenastia]

my least fucking favorite thing is absolutely rank smelling people sitting at the table next to mine in a cafe.

in this case a fucking smoker.

like i understand as someone extremely prone to scent-based sensory overload (can't focus, building nausea, if i dont get away from the smell soon enough migraines) that like. it's a part of life. You can't reasonably avoid ALL strong smells, nor can you be reasonably accommodated for that.

Especially when it's not just bad smells like sweat and cigarettes but even 'good' smells like perfume and cologne or even like. febreeze shit. If the smell is strong it WILL fuck me up and expecting the whole world to cater to that... disability? of mine? like using disability feels wrong but also i literally get migraines so maybe that's just my anxiety of being perceived as In The Wrong acting up but like.

Logically the whole world can't cater to that for me.

But also. Please. There are open tables elsewhere. Please. Sit fucking anywhere else. I can't handle this.

I'd move myself but there is only one table in this entire cafe that has an electric socket and my computer dies if I don't keep it plugged in so I don't have any other options unless I go to a different cafe.... :(

[chestharrington]

Hard agree on the mischaracterisation, esp with Steve in the Steddie ship. Most fics I encountered were mostly about Eddie being abusive towards Steve but it's not characterized as that. Like Steve is a submissive loser who has to take every kind of abuse from Eddie, his friends and the kids without ever fighting back. He gets stripped of his personality, isn't allowed to dress like he wants to because it's not cool enough, constantly gets made fun off for his music taste or other hobbies (like god forbid he enjoys sport). So I blocked that tag because Steve deserves better than that.

Plus in canon all those steddie moments people go so crazy about are just moments of Steve being actually super uncomfortable with Eddie coming into his personal space. Like that boy didn't give a fuck when he died, he was probably relieved he didn't have to deal with his annoying ass anymore lol.

No that’s sooook true. Steve is a victim of chronic mischaracterization in fanfics and the show.

Source? I’m chronically correct about him always.

Also no ik for sure Steve wouldn’t actively hang out w Eddie lmfaooo he probably had to spray the air with febreeze after Eddie left a room so he’d get the unwashed ass smell out of the air