#and of course he'd be annoying about it. very on brand

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

ELECTRIC. - y.jh

your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 

pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)

smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.

the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.

jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 

(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)

“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 

“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”

your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.

“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”

he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 

in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 

you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.

“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”

you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 

“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”

he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 

“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”

but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.

“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.

“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”

begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.

jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 

he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.

“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.

“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”

“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”

he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 

“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”

“jeonghan–”

“y/n.”

the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)

but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.

“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”

“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”

there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.

“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.

“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”

“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.

he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.

“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.

somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.

“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”

“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 

“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”

“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”

jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”

“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”

“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”

you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)

“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 

every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.

oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…

“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”

he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…

“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 

he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 

“please stay with me.”

if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 

“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.

“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 

“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”

“a what?”

“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.

“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”

“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”

he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 

“fine. you’re building it, though.”

you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.

“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.

“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”

a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 

you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.

you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.

and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?

there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.

but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 

with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.

you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.

a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.

“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.

“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.

you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–

“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”

“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”

“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”

“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 

…and heaven above, the penny drops. 

jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.

therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.

“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”

“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”

“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?

“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”

“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”

boom.

and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.

you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –

“okay, wait. hear me out.”

to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.

“i can help you.”

your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.

“you don’t have to–”

“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”

“hannie…”

“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”

if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.

“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”

he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.

you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.

“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”

but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 

“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 

“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”

you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 

“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”

“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.

now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.

of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.

“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.

but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?

“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”

“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”

you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”

“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.

you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.

“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.

“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”

well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.

“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 

“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”

“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 

he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.

“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”

“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 

and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.

“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”

to his credit, he does.

and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.

the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.

within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)

every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 

sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.

“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”

“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”

“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”

“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.

by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.

“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 

“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”

you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.

“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 

what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.

“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 

“yes to what?” 

“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.

you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 

saved for really important promises.

“to next time.”

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3

[themultifanshipper]

Hello!!

I was wondering if I could ask for a request? I love your work and I had an idea for a fic but don't have the skills to make it a reality, ANYWAYS lol.

Charles leclerc finding out his crush does onlyfans 😏

You were very well paid as an engineer in one of the top Formula 1 teams, but your secret side hustle provided much more of an... escape, than your day job did.

Warnings: onlyfans, sextapes, smut, masturbation, fluff, Charles’ brain literally malfunctionning, angst but it end well, also I know this isn't how being a brand ambassador works but for the sake of this fic pretend Charles owns part of APM.

You had an Onlyfans. You'd had the account since college, and it had helped pay for your engineering degree.

But you'd found the experience so liberating and exciting, that you never really stopped.

So you continued posting regularly, and streaming, completely anonymously of course.

It would be absolutely mortifying if any of your colleagues found out about your other source of income.

You were smart about it. You never showed your face, barely spoke, and didn't put anything on your account that would in any way hint at your identity.

Your username was inconspicuous, you didn't really have any defining features on your body like tattoos or scars, and you'd even bought a green screen to hide your surroundings.

Sometimes you recorded videos in risky places, but they were never recognisable enough for someone to know exactly where you were.

Being a mechanic for Charles Leclerc was a dream.

He was so nice to you, if a bit shy, and extremely helpful in his feedback to you and the team.

He had made moving to Italy a lot easier and the flat he rented for when he was there was in the same neighbourhood as yours.

Charles had a thing for you. He couldn't deny it, he'd been taken with you ever since your first day, when you walked in late, and wearing a Ferrari uniform that was obviously several sizes too big for you.

“They sent me the wrong ones!” you panted as you tried to explain your attire “the orders got mixed up and I got sent someone else's uniform, I've just been at the office trying to figure it all out”

He was barely listening, your eyes had captivated him and it was too late, he just stared at you.

“Charles?”

He snapped out of it and you could finally get to work, but not before Carlos had sniggered in the corner and given Charles a teasing look.

The teasing only got worse when it turned out that the uniform mix up was actually with Charles, because you had similar addresses.

The discovery that you'd actually been technically wearing his clothes had driven Charles to the edge of madness and back.

You'd tried to give them back to him once you’d received your own, but he insisted you keep them.

“I don't need them, you can have them”

“But they're yours! I don't need them either and they're way too big for me anyway”

“They look really good on you, you can wear them for bed or… or something…” he stuttered, the image of you in bed and in his clothes was too much for him, and he blushed his way out of the room as Carlos, who had unfortunately witnessed that interaction, howled with laughter at the idiocy of his friend.

Over the next few months Carlos was getting increasingly annoyed with Charles.

He'd teased him to bits for a few weeks, but now it was getting just plain pathetic.

You were all Charles could talk about, but he was too shy to do anything about it.

“Cabrón, you need to ask her out instead of talking my ears off about her”

“It's worse than that Carlos, I've done… something”

Carlos raised an eyebrow at his teammate, whatever Charles had done, it couldn't be good.

“Go on”

Charles blushed and looked around before getting his phone out to show Carlos something.

"There is this Onlyfans account…” he started and Carlos groaned in frustration, already knowing where this was going.

“She looks and sounds a bit like her and… Carlos I'm obsessed. I think I have a problem”

Carlos glanced at the screen. The girl didn't not look like you, but given that her face wasn't visible, and he had never seen you naked, he wasn't capable of making any sort of comparison.

“You need to do something about this mate, this is not healthy”

Charles sighed, putting his phone away. “I know”

They were at a race, waiting for qualifying to start while you were out working on the car that would hopefully get him pole position.

And it did.

The first thing he did when he got out of the car was run to you and lift you up as you laughed.

“Thank you, thank you for the car. It was perfect!” you blushed and hugged him back.

“Anything for you, Charles”

Eventually he was whisked off for his interviews and you were left red-faced and grinning as you watched him go.

The first week of summer break was spent in the factory doing some sim work and testing to see exactly what was so right about the setup, and whether you could replicate it for Carlos' car.

So the three of you (plus all the usual employees) were in Maranello for a few days.

Charles took you to one of his favourite restaurants to celebrate his latest race win.

You had a few drinks and laughed the night away, and when you separated at the end of the night, all Charles could manage was a peck on the cheek.

You went home to finally start your stream, late, and Charles went home to discover his favourite account would be starting their stream late.

 Perfect timing, he thought as he unbuckled his pants and got to work.

Yeah, he had a problem.

“Ferrari69 has joined the stream”

It wasn't rare that formula 1 themed usernames popped up in your subscribers, but it always made you chuckle when your literal employer's name appeared while you masturbated on camera for the world to see.

Ferrari69’s name was a regular sight, and a regular donator, and quite generous too.

It was probably an old rich man who had nothing better to do with his money, you supposed.

You had planned to film one of your riskier videos that week.

You didn't want to livestream it in case something went wrong, or you got caught.

There was a beautiful park in Maranello, one that had plenty of hiding spots.

That, and you did it at night when no one was around, so it was all good.

It all went smoothly, and once you were done you packed up your equipment and started making your way home when you spotted a familiar frame walking down one of the footpaths in front of you.

“Charles?” you called out and you heard a gasp followed by a relieved chuckle.

“Oh my god you scared me!” he smiled at you as you got to his level.

“What are you doing outside at this time?” he asked, perplexed.

“I uuhh… I was just clearing my head I guess… it's been a long week, you know?” you tried, and he obviously wasn't convinced but he nodded anyway and silence fell over you.

“So um…” you could feel the awkwardness dripping from his tone “that's a nice bracelet”

He motioned to your wrist and you grinned at him.

“Thanks… it's your own collection” you giggled and he facepalmed.

Yes it was his collection, he was wearing the same one around his own wrist.

“Right, right… I think I should probably head home and get some sleep then” he chuckled.

“Yeah, me too. Need to be up bright and early tomorrow for my flight home”

“Yes! Me too actually…” he fiddled with his hands nervously and the awkward silence became too much for you.

“Right well, goodnight then. I'll see you in a few weeks, Charles” and before you could think too much about it you leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

He reddened and smiled shyly.

“Yeah, see you around”

You rushed home and slammed your front door, leaning against it as you tried to slow your heart rate down.

That could have been a disaster. God knows what could've happened if Charles had wandered past a few minutes earlier.

You shuddered, the idea of Charles catching you in the act wasn't completely unpleasant.

But you couldn't risk it, you wouldn't be filming in that park ever again.

You looked through the footage, editing what needed to be edited, and uploaded it to your channel before going through your nightly routine.

Your phone buzzed with likes and notifications as your most avid followers reacted to your new post but you didn't look at them until you were firmly planted in your bed, ready to go to sleep.

By the time Charles got home, he was ready to do some serious unwinding.

‘that's a nice bracelet’ ??? What the fuck was wrong with him.

He took a quick shower and checked his phone for the notification he hoped would be there.

He clicked on the video and grabbed a bottle of lube before climbing into bed.

He didn't even get to open the bottle though, because his eyes zoned in on the little familiar blue diamond chain around the woman's wrist.

Then he took in the surrounding trees and bushes, which were even more familiar.

No...

It couldn't be you, surely it was some kind of twisted coincidence.

But objectively, the evidence was damning.

He decided to look through the comments as a distraction.

There were the usual comments about how hot she was and how people wished they were with her.

A flash of possessiveness surged through Charles at those.

That was new. He'd never felt possessive over her before, but now that he suspected it was you… that was a different story...

You liked a few comments, replied to a couple of others and were about to call it a night when you got a different notification.

A private message. From Ferrari69.

You opened it curiously, he'd never messaged you before, despite the numerous times he had sent you money.

“That's a nice bracelet”

A chill ran down your spine. That's exactly what Charles had said, in the park.

“Is it new?”

Bit of an odd introduction, but you supposed he deserved to know, it was his money that had paid for it after all.

“It is yes. I was in Monaco recently and I thought I'd spend some of the very generous tips you've been sending me ;) thank you so much by the way”

Charles' possessiveness flared again. Technically he had paid for that little trinket that he'd seen you wear only hours prior. He felt emboldened, and a bit turned on by that fact.

“That's a shame… I happen to know the owner of the collection, I could have made sure you got one for free. You could’ve spent the money on something else…”

Several red flags went off in your mind.

He seemed to be taking an interest in becoming your sugar daddy, which is not what you'd signed up for.

But more importantly, this man (you assumed it was a man) was potentially acquainted with Charles. Big no-no.

He could be lying for attention of course, but if the amount of money he'd sent you was any indication, he was proper rich, and therefore could very possibly know everyone in the goddamn paddock.

“If it makes you feel better, I've spent your money on other things as well, like a custom dress I'll be wearing to an event soon, and also that custom dildo I used in the park earlier :)”

Charles' dick throbbed as he thought back to the video.

“Really? Money well spent in that case. I enjoyed the video very much ;) Will you be doing any more risky ones like that?”

“I don't know… I was almost caught by a colleague of mine tonight”

Charles was in too deep. He needed to stop this madness before somebody got hurt.

He ended the conversation as quickly as he could without seeming off, and groaned when the thumbnail of the video flashed on his screen again, cock twitching at the sight of you riding a dildo that he'd paid for.

And then you’d met him in the woods, and acted as if you hadn't been getting yourself off minutes before.

Instead of doing the reasonable thing and having a cold shower, he put the video on again and fisted his cock desperately until he was spent.

Yeah, Charles was fucked.

A chill ran down your back as you turned your phone off.

You couldn't shake the feeling that your identity was in danger.

You shrugged it off, putting your paranoid thoughts down to the fact that it was late and you were tired as fuck.

You caught your flight the next day, barely, because you'd forgotten to set an alarm. So the night before was successfully put out of your mind for now as you snoozed away on the plane.

A couple of weeks later was the event.

You and Charles called it that in a derogatory way, because you knew it would be anything but an event.

It was possibly the most boring day of the calendar, basically the equivalent to a business meeting, but with everyone forced to be dressed to the nines because sponsors would be there.

It took place in a big mansion, belonging to some CEO or another, in the Swiss countryside.

So all the most important staff were invited, and put up in a fancy hotel.

Charles was waiting anxiously for you to arrive.

He had decided that today was the day he was going to tell you he knew about your uhh… side activities.

He didn't quite know how to broach the subject, but he was sure the inspiration would come to him at some point.

He'd spent the last two weeks avoiding any conversation with you, and he hadn't told Carlos a thing, confusing the Spaniard to no end as he watched Charles suddenly turn completely dismissive whenever you were mentioned.

When you arrived, he thought he was dreaming.

You were wearing a long red satin dress. It showed off your curves, having a very low neckline and no back.

The old rich pigs sponsors were going to love you.

He certainly did.

Wait what? Did he love you? He was certainly possessive over you. And completely obssessed with you, and your eyes, and your smile, and the way you were the only one who laughed when he made stupid puns…

“Charles?” you frowned at him, eyes full of concern as you snapped your fingers in his face, trying to get his attention.

You were standing right in front of him, sparkly makeup making you glow, and you smelled divine. He didn't know how long you'd been standing there.

His brain was short circuiting and he stared straight at your breasts that were barely covered by the rosso corsa fabric that was clinging to your body.

“Charles?” you knew he was staring, and you were getting slightly uncomfortable. “Are you okay, man?”

He paid for that dress. You looked fucking sexy incredible in a dress that he was responsible for buying, in his colour.

Something glinted in his vision as you lifted a hand to his forehead to check whether he was having some kind of fever.

You were wearing the bracelet. His collection. The bracelet you were wearing when you fucked yourself on camera with the dildo he also paid for.

“Charles people are staring. Do you need to lie down?”

Shit. He needed to say something.

But there was no way in hell that anything that came out of his mouth could possibly be appropriate right now.

He gave it a go anyway.

“You're all mine” he growled.

You jumped at his tone, retracting your hand in surprise.

“What?” you whispered, glancing around to see if anyone was listening in.

“Do you want to know a fun fact?” he said, mouth dry, brain barely working.

“Uhh… sure?”

“I paid for that dress”

You looked at him questioningly but he didn't elaborate.

“What?” you chuckled nervously. “No, I paid for this?” you were very confused by Charles' sudden change of personality. He looked like he was on drugs, pupils swallowing his irises as he scanned your body.

“I also paid for this” his voice was hoarse as his hand went to grab you wrist.

He internally begged you to understand what he was saying, even if his mouth couldn't say it out loud.

“I… I don't understand Charles… this is from your collection but you didn't buy it for me? What has gotten into you?” you ripped your arm away from his grasp.

“No, I paid for it, and I can prove it to you.”

You frowned as he took out his phone and tapped away on it for a minute, hiding it from your view.

You were even more confused when he put it back in his pocket and waited.

“Charles what-“  you were cut off by the sound of your phone buzzing in your bag.

What on earth was he playing at? You pulled it out to check it.

He opened his mouth just as you saw the notification on your screen, and you froze as your brain absorbed the information.

“I just sent you two hundred euros”

‘Ferrari69 has sent you 200€’

Your fingers tightened around your phone.

You physically couldn't look away from the screen.

You reread the notification over and over, while your brain replayed Charles' words.

This couldn't be happening.

You tried to heave in a breath but it got caught in your throat and you choked on a sob.

You walked away as quickly as you could, tears threatening to blur your vision as you almost ran down a hallway in search of somewhere you could block out the thoughts threatening to split your head open.

You've been found out. You're going to lose your job. Charles has lost all respect for you. You will lose your career, your friends, everyone you've ever known is going to be disgusted by you.

You didn't hear the footsteps behind you until it was too late.

Charles wrapped an arm around your middle and dragged you into the closest room he could find.

You didn't have the strength to fight.

Tears flowed freely down your cheeks as he sat you down in a chair and cradled your face in his hands, crouching down in front of you.

“Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay. It's just me. I'm the only one who knows. Just breathe. Come on, deep breaths for me.”

Thankfully, Charles' brain had rebooted at the sight of your trembling frame running away from him.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He leaned his forehead against yours, thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I shouldn't have told you like that. I don't know what came over me. I’m sorry…”

At last you were breathing relatively normally again.

“Charles” your voice shook as you pushed him off and put your head in your hands.

“You have no idea. No idea how humiliating this is.”

“I won't tell anybody, I promise.” Charles took your hands in his and squeezed.

“That's not the point. It’s supposed to be secret. If anyone else finds out I'll lose my job, and… and you”

“Look at me” he whispered, and you slowly raised your head, eyes betraying nothing but vulnerability.

“You are not going to lose your job, or me. I have been in love with you for months. This is not going to change that. And I will not tell a soul about this, I promise…”

Your jaw dropped. Your head was pounding with all this information.

“And do you want to know a fun fact?” he cracked a smile and you couldn't help letting out a nervous laugh.

“I think I've had enough fun facts today thank you very much”

He chuckled dryly and nodded understandingly.

“This one is important though. Do you want to know why I followed your uhh… account, in the first place?”

You shook your head.

“It is because I was too much of a coward to tell you how I felt, and the woman in the videos reminded me of you. So it was like I was in my own little fucked up fantasy when I watched them.”

Your eyes were wide as you listened to him. He was thinking of you, while unknowingly jerking off to your actual nudes…

“And you have no idea how fucking hard I came when I figured out it was actually you”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“That is so fucked up, Charles”

He nodded.

“I know. So if anything, I'm the one who is humiliated, and if you never want to speak to me again, I will understand”

You laughed disbelievingly. It was almost sweet how he was trying to make you feel better.

“Charles… I don't think you understand. I am in love with you.”

His mouth opened and closed several times before any sound came out.

“Oh…”

You laughed “Yeah, oh…”

“You don't care that I am a pervert who has been sending you money?”

You froze and thought back to the conversation you'd had that night.

“Oh my god… is that how you figured it out?”

“No” he chuckled “I figured it out because you wore my fucking jewelry collection in a video filmed in a place I know very well, minutes before I saw you in it”

You sighed. “I knew it was a bad idea”

Charles’ hand came to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing at your lower lip.

“If it makes you feel better, not a day has passed where I haven't thought about fucking you in those bushes”

Your breath hitched and you saw his pupils grow in size.

“As long as we don't film it and post it on the internet, I don't see why we can't make that particular fantasy come true”

It was his turn to gasp.

“Next time we are in Maranello, I am going to fuck you under the moonlight.”

You scrunched your nose at his words.

“That's very sappy Charles”

He laughed, slowly leaning in closer to you as he responded.

“Well, so far the beginning of our relationship has been… complicated. I need to make up for it…” his lips brushed yours and your unsteady breath mingled with his “starting right. Now.”

He pressed his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut.

It was surreal, kissing the object of your long time affections.

His lips were so unnaturally soft, parting your own as his tongue came to deepen the kiss, and his hands came to rest on your waist.

Your own hands came up to curl in his hair and tug at the strands, making him groan.

“Fuck- don't do that unless you want to walk out of this room limping”

You smirked at him, very tempted by the offer. But you knew that at any moment someone was going to come looking for Charles for his speech.

“I'll take you up on that at some point, but right now you need to go. I'll get myself freshened up and join you in a minute”

He nodded, coming to his senses. He did need to go make a speech. Inaugurating his new relationship would have to wait.

His speech was the most entertaining thing of the event, considering how dull the rest of it was.

Every time he spotted you in the crowd he would stutter, blush, and need about a minute each time to get back on track.

And only you noticed, but he kept subtly readjusting himself every time he put a hand in his pocket, feigning nonchalance.

The two of you left straight after the speech, bumping into Carlos in the lobby.

“Where are you going, Cabrón? You need to do the thing at the end with the-“

He took one look at your guilty faces, and intertwined hands, and groaned.

“Jesus… okay, go. I will cover for you”

You both thanked him breathlessly and all but sprinted to Charles' car.

He drove you to the hotel you were both in, and dragged you up to you room as fast as was humanly possible.

Unlocking the door was a challenge, already climbing on each other by that point, and if someone else had been in the corridor at that moment they would have seen a shirtless Charles pulling your dress up around your waist while trying to get his keycard in your slot, as it were.

It wasn't long before you were inside, fully naked, pressed against the wall with your legs hooked over his arms as he pounded into you.

You panted and whimpered into each other's mouths, pulling each other closer as you struggled to kiss with the pleasure that was coursing through your bodies.

“I love you” he said, voice cracking with the effort of holding back.

“I love you, Charles” you whined, one hand scratching down his back, the other tangling in his hair to pull on it once again.

He growled and his hips slammed yours against the wall.

“Fuck, I'm going to fill you up if you keep doing that”

You moaned, extremely close to edge yourself.

“Do it. Fill me up, Charlie. Make me yours!”

You reached your highs at the same time, moans echoing in the room as you rode the waves of pleasure, clinging to each other desperately.

He carried you over to the bed, put you down gently and kissed you senseless.

You showered together and you put one of his shirts on (the ones mistakenly sent to you) to sleep in.

While you were in bed, cuddled up together, one of his hands slipped under the shirt and came to rest on one of your breasts.

“Baby?” you giggled as he gave it a quick squeeze.

“I can't believe I used to fantasize about these, not knowing they were next to me the whole time…”

He kissed your cheek and you groaned.

“God, you are such a perv, Charles”

He laughed softly. “I think you are not well placed to be saying that to me”

You gasped in mock offence.

“Why? Because I've been posting myself masturbating for the world to see?”

“Nooo…” he purred in your ear “Because, you are going to keep doing it” he bit your ear lightly as his other hand trailed down your body “and I am going to buy you all the things I want you to use on yourself, for the world to see”

[finnitesimal]

You know what I am in fact. Thinking about umeendo. Early furin umeendo specifically.

cause ume's been looking into reforming furin for who knows long. Probably knows every kid in the neighborhood being sent to enroll there. He's sought out pretty much every strong kid he could find with an ounce of compassion he could annoy into hearing him out. there's no way he doesn't know about the prodigy who 'fell into the wrong crowd' entering furin. Ume was very likely banking on endo joining them and pulling more influence from his side

Which you know might have worked if it was this Endo, bored and looking for something new and interesting, would've butted heads with the other kings but ultimately come around to the cause

If you know. Someone hadn't beaten him to the pitch

Now. Look at me, sit down a second.

You're Umemiya Hajime. You're trying to reform a school and reconnect it to the town you're trying to protect, and you've selected a small but powerful team to help you do that. You get to the school, you meet a boy who seems a little out of place. He's not scrambling to get into fights, somehow seems to actually be trying in school, and has his own small following around him. He's charismatic and polite, if a bit blunt, and if the rumors surrounding him are right, Furin-changing-level strong.

You approach him. On behalf of your cause of course. He's nice enough to buy you a vending machine soda. You talk about the cause (that's what you're here for) and he laughs incredulously at every word, but he seems interested (his laugh sounds like cats hacking up bones)

You ask if he's willing to help change Furin for the better. He asks if everyone on your team has to wear the dollar store burger meal mascot shirt. He laughs again. He thinks you're funny. He looks like the pet store snakes that push their noses against the tank. He says he'll have to think about it. He buys two more sodas. Lemon lime and peach. You watch his throat bob. You look away when he looks up, startling at the sunset behind you.

You turn to find a boy standing by the machine, bleached hair and yellow eyes. His face is impassive. You turn again. Endo's smile looks like the sun. The boy's name is Takiishi. You know this because Endo jumps up to say it, bounding up to meet him and offer him the soda he'd just been drinking from with a cheeky sort of grin, and you're a little too stunned to react when he backhands Endo to the ground.

Your body moves though, grabs the still outstretched arm to shove him back and away. The blow meant for your gut doesn't connect when you catch the fist. There's an arm that yanks you back by the scruff of your dollar store shirt. It pops the pin on your collar.

Takiishi is staring at you. It crawls on your skin. Endo's still holding the back of your shirt, but he's not looking at you. He lets you go. He's smiling. His eyes are hard. We'll talk again tomorrow, he saysHe's got a bandaid over it the next the day. You couldn't say anything. He says no to your proposal, by the way (that's what you were there for). Takiishi is waiting for him at the door. He's smiling again. Takiishi isn't looking at him. Bandaids on his knuckles, the same brand. He looks back at you exactly once. You don't know if you've deluded yourself into thinking he looked sad.

Are you. A) in love b) mildly to moderately obsessed c) filled with shock, fury and heroic justice d) varying levels of all of the above

Now I'm really spitballing here. But I'm going to hazard a guess this vitriol towards him might come a little bit deeper. Now ume says they never exchanged blows but who's to say ume didn't say things about takiishi endo didn't take well

Break up with your abusive boyfriend. Join my insurrection.

[sunny-ssunset]

*smiles seductively and comes closer* I'm back, honey, I was really happy with the princess kenny one-shot, I was wondering if you could do something like, kyle and reader don't know each other, but they feed the same stray cat and they conventionally go to feed this cat at the same time *bites my bottom lip and and winks with my both eyes*

How i met your mother

Kyle broflovski x fem reader

divider by some random website i found on google

Masterlist!

♡Hey boo *Looks you up and down* Hope you dont mind if its fem reader (if its a problem i'll change it lol) Also genuinely sorry for how bad the princess kenny oneshot was, i was on one then. I promise this one wont be as bad *Crouches down awkwardly and worships you cuz ur a snack* (AGED UP)

"Dad??" She looked up at Kyle, beady eyed. "Yes honey" He replied, sounding a little distracted because he was serving their lunch.

"How did you meet mom?" The little girl inquired, tilting her head to the side. Kyle turns around stopping every thing hes doing and he sits at the table, as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. "So there was this cat."

*Cutesy little flashback scene*

I was stopping at the corner shop as per usual, to get this certain brand of cat food. I mean, for a stray cat this one was very picky, This girl from class, was buying the same brand, I let her go first, I'm a gentleman you know how it is. As she mumbled a thanks, I grabbed a tin.

I waited in line and paid, I'm no robber, Then I walked home.

"Dad this is boring...." Patience child....

Anyways I got into the greenish house, "KYLE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!" Jesus..... "Mom I went to the store like normal." After a long talk about safety, I went upstairs and played world of warcraft for a while then at 7 pm i grabbed the cat food and a small dish.

I left the house and walked to the park, To find the little stray kitten, but there she was lying down in all her glory. In my opinion she was starting to look less skinny, To which I of course take credit for, so i poured the cat food into the tin, But the little kitten wouldn't eat it? Then Behind her I saw that there was already food out for her!!

To be honest this really annoyed me. How dare this person feed that cat. I've fed it for MONTHS! Since the day its mother left her. This mystery person wont know what food it should be having?! This guy wont know the kitten like i do! So I devised a plan. I was going to feed the cat directly after school. So I could get there first, off I went to the shop to buy more cat food, I mean i couldn't do it after school I had to feed the cat of course.

Then I went home, and did my chores and stuff

"Boringggg" Stop whining I'm getting there.

I went to school as usual and then went straight to the park, like trust me I ran, FAST. But to my suprise I was too late... But wait a minute?! It was that girl from class??? I sighed and turned around to go home, "Hey your Kyle broflovski?? The kid from my maths class?" SHE KNEW WHO I WAS?! I swear I'd never turned around so fast. "Yeah, I usually come feed this cat too but i guess im to late" I chucked.

"Jesus dad you are so attention seeking" .....

Anyways so. As i was saying ahem...

"Aww I'm sorry well I'm thinking about adopting it, i dont want it to live without a family for ever. How about you come round sometime after i adopt it and check up on her?" A PRETTY GIRL WAS MAYBE INVITING ME TO HER HOUSE?!?!?!

And basically, Y/n did adopt her, and I got number and-

"Whos Y/n?" I'M GETTING TO THAT SWEETHEART.

And as i was saying I went to her house sometimes to check on mittens, The cat she adopted and We started to like eachother and then we started dating... Bought a house and That, Is how i met your mother.

"WAIT WHAT Y/N IS MOM??? WHAT HAPPENED TO MITTENS!?? WHEN WAS I BORN???"

Jesus Child....

dividers by @khaer

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 | P.JM 2

— pairing | femceo!oc x ceo!pjm

— summary | yoo jangmi (oc aka you) is a highly successful independent ceo of YooMi Beauty, one of the most popular beauty brands of the century. jamgi’s rival company Park Enterprises owned by the even more famous park jimin. her and park jimin were enemies from the start. (but after each argument he’s lowk hard lol and he has a lil crush on her). only thing that’s stopping jimin from making a move on her is her boyfriend, minhyuk. but he’ll take care of him real soon.

— warning | bad writing, slow burn (i’m annoying), secret relationships (oc’s bsf has the hots for jk), cruel humor (oc acts hard to get), fluff, cheating (jimin won’t give up on this girl), relationship abuse, abuselight stalking, lying, toxic relationships, smut, aggression, irrational behavior, misogyny, derogatory comments (oc’s bf is a DICK), rudeness

— smut | pussy eating, light dirty talk, unprotected sex, semi public sex, semi rough sex

— word count | 8.04k words

— song suggestion | dream of you — chungha

Jangmi, Minhyuk, and a guest of her choice had been invited to a gala tonight hosted by none other than Park Enterprises.

He didn't mention anything of the sort when they hung out, so it was a bit of a surprise when her secretary read out the email.

"Are you ladies ready?" The driver asked the girls, seeing that they were making final touches on their hair.

"Yes!" Yeri clapped her hands together, grabbing their purses. "Did you bring your extra lip liner?"

"It's in my purse. I kept my compact in your purse if that's fine." Jangmi and Yeri headed out of the van, thanking the driver on their way out.

The girls walked towards to entrance of the venue, arms linked together.

The inside was gorgeous, almost like how you'd imagine the inside of a castle.

"Is this what it's like on Bridgerton?" Yeri gasped, looking around.

"This could almost pass as the Paris Opera House" Jangmi looked around, almost every detail catching her eye.

The scenery was beautiful and she felt as if Jimin really took the concept of a gala so serious.

"Imagine if we never read the dress code." Yeri laughed, swaying her dress back and forth.

It was required of the girls to participate in ballroom etiquette. The big dresses and the excruciatingly painful heels.

Jangmi wore a black ball gown, sequins colored gold with gold trimming. She looked ravishing. All eyes were on her and Yeri, who wore a beautiful yellow gown.

"Wait." Jangmi stopped in her tracks. "Minhyuk."

"He's not coming." A soft voice spoke, startling the girls.

"My apologies!" Secretary Jeon bowed to them. "I couldn't help but overhear. Mr. Lee rejected our invitation, unfortunately. I came to inform you that Mr. Park is actually running a bit late tonight. He shall join us momentarily."

He couldn't be serious. Minhyuk had told Jangmi he'd meet them there.

Could've been the wrong Minhyuk. There are plenty.

He did say Lee.

Secretary Jeon bowed once more, then went on his way.

"Hm, he's a bit on the softer side." Jangmi spoke out.

"Wow." Is all Yeri could mutter out.

She was love-struck. The guy had approached them even though there were hundreds in the room. Sure he was ordered to, but he did it!

"Yeri."

He was exactly like she remembered. A bit nerdy, but a very cute man.

"Yeri."

His voice was like paradise. Such a soft voice for such a beautiful man.

"Kim Yeri!"

"What?!" She shrieked, causing some heads to turn in their direction.

"There's no way you're really already fantasizing about him." Jangmi snorted, teasing the girl.

"Like I told you before." Yeri huffed. "It's love at first sight. Of course, he didn't see me this time but he will by the end of the night. I'll make sure of it."

"Whatever you say. Let's drink!" Jangmi cheered.

༊—

"This is disgusting."

"You're telling me. I thought the more they aged the better they were." Yeri made a sour face. "Maybe we're just not mature yet."

The girls had no idea the only drinks being served would be aged red wine with fancy European names.

Something about Minhyuk's sudden bail bothered her. It wasn't unusual for him to skip events at the last minute.

Usually she'd get some sort of message ahead of time. Even if it was just a few minutes before.

She knew he didn't want to come in the first place. Both him and Jimin felt neutral about each other. Galas just weren't his thing.

He wasn't much for the party life like she was.

"I'm about to sit here and sip water for the rest of the night." Jangmi winced. She couldn't bear to take another sip of the wine.

"You're telling me. I say after this we get iced coffee." Yeri smiled cheekily, even though it wasn't the brightest idea.

"I'm sorry to bother you both but, do you think I could have a dance miss?"

Secretary Jeon.

Yeri's smile somehow grew. A deep pink blush crept up on her face as her ears burned.

She simply nodded, being put so off guard she couldn't utter out a word.

Linking his arm with hers, they strutted off together on the dance floor.

Yeri had the biggest grin plastered on her face. Throwing up a thumbs up at Jangmi, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"How cute." She mumbled to herself, scrolling on her phone.

Jangmi

Where are you?

Secretary Jeon said you didn't accept the invite

Minhyuk

Something came up.

I'm in Jakarta for a bit for work

I'll see you in a few days

Jangmi was furious. There was no way he was serious. No communication, nothing.

Just "I'll see you in a few days" As if it were nothing. As if it was a town away.

Jakarta? He can't be serious. He just left in total disregard for her. Couldn't even notify her. She had to ask him where he was.

This was getting out of hand. It's like she was begging him to communicate with her. He had no problem tracking her but when it came to him, he couldn't say shit for himself.

"You don't look happy." Jimin spoke, coming from behind her. He took a seat at the chair Yeri previously sat in. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She mumbled, a irritated look on her face.

"I can already guess." He looked at her. "Considering you brought your assistant when I invited Minhyuk as well. Who from the looks of it, didn't show up."

Usually Jimin's pushy demeanor would've set her off, but not this time. He announced the obvious a lot, but she knew it was just to get her to open her mouth.

"He's just busy." She replied under her breath, defending him once more.

"Come with me, Jangmi." He reached his hand out to her. "I have a feeling you're ready to leave."

Jangmi looked up at him, holding her hand out to him hesitantly.

She couldn't just leave Yeri alone by herself.

"Don't worry about her." Jimin watched as the girls eyes scanned over her best friend. "She's in good hands, believe me."

"Are you okay if I go?" Jangmi mouthed to Yeri, who urged her to just leave already.

She wasn't too sure about going off with him, but she definitely needed some clarity. The air was getting too thick for her there.

"Just trust me." He smiled to her.

That's all she needed.

She took his hand in hers, and off they went.

༊—

"Shh! You're going to wake up my neighbors." Minhyuk helped the mysterious woman out of the car.

Minhyuk was going to Jakarta, yes. But of course it wasn't for work.

Yoona was one of the women he'd been sleeping around with. The main woman he'd spoil and crawl to in a state of lust.

Who knew states of lust lasted for months.

She was just what he liked. Unlike Jangmi, she was an obedient woman. With a high sex drive at that. Willing to do anything he'd ask. He knew well she was money hungry, but that didn't stop the growth in their relationship.

Reliable. She was there. A single message and she'd rush out the door to meet with him.

He'd stay with her for days on them. Even start meaningless fights between him and Jangmi just to go see her.

He knew well he couldn't just separate from his girlfriend. His reputation depended on her. His company was on the rocks, and the only person able to get his name out there was Jangmi herself.

He was going to use her just long enough to be stable again. Maybe propose to her if he had to. He needed the publicity.

"I want you so bad Minnie." She clung onto him. "We need this vacation so bad. How'd you manage to get so much time away from her?"

"I was lucky to even escape. She's clingy as hell." He chuckled alongside her, giving her kisses all over her neck.

Once, Jimin had been exiting his home, standing out on his porch. The loud sounds from a woman's lips startled him.

The voice came from the left side of neighbor's home. That being where Jangmi lived, he naturally looked over.

It was her boyfriend Minhyuk. But the woman he was arriving home with, was not his girlfriend.

She wasn't Jangmi.

She was taller, much slimmer. Her hair was brown, short. It wasn't the same woman he had seen him with at the club, but she had a similar style.

Bringing the mistress home is a new one. Jimin thought to himself.

A brave man was he. It's almost as if Minhyuk had no shame in bringing another woman to his used to be sacred home.

Often, he'd hear the two get into it. Random bursts of insults back and fourth.

Jangmi would scream. Begging Minhyuk not to go. To just apologize and talk it out.

Minhyuk would scream at her even louder. Insulting her. Humiliating her in front of the entire neighborhood. There were some instances where Jimin thought he'd put his hands on her.

They fought so often. He could tune it out after a few minutes. Here and there he'd watch their other neighbors approach their door, asking them to keep it down.

One called the cops.

It was clear Minhyuk had paid them off to avoid anything being leaked to the outside media.

Most likely with Jangmi’s card.

How could Jangmi put up with all of it?

It wasn't any of Jimin's business. But if his plan was going to work, he needed to watch every second.

Jimin was going to be the one for her. Although she most likely wasn't aware of Minhyuk's behind the scenes work, he was going to take care of her.

He couldn't explain the attraction he felt for her. Even since day one. He'd been denying himself of it.

The two didn't get along. Business was all they knew of each other, and that was enough to disagree with one another.

It's when he started to look forward to their arguments. He started looking up if she'd be attending the same events he would be.

She'd insult him. How it was such a turn on. Her attitude aroused him to a great extent. He was always hard after their interactions.

Jangmi was a taken woman. That was a major obstacle. She would never drop her boyfriend for a guy she was competing against.

Now that Minhyuk was openly cheating on her, it was finally his time. The moment he seen Minhyuk kissing another woman, he knew it was time to put his plan into action.

༊—

"Let's talk." He poured Jangmi a glass of rosé from his newer bottle.

Jimin offered to have Jangmi over for the night at his home while Minhyuk was away and since Yeri would be occupied with his secretary.

She could wrap her mind around her own actions. Why the hell did she feel the urge to say yes to him?

He knew she needed to rant. Just talk out all of her issues and concerns. He was a great listener, and he loved hearing her speak. So why not?

Jangmi changed back at home into her pajamas. She packed a small bag for the night and decided to take Jimin up on his offer.

Although it may have seemed like a bad idea, she was desperate.

She already felt guilty that she would constantly complain to Yeri about her issues. Yeri was all ears, but it was the same problems over and over again.

"Here's how we're going to do this." He set the bottle down. "You're going to talk my ear off and I'm going to listen. Then I'll give the best possible solution. Sound good?"

"Why do you care?" She asked him, "I haven't done anything to be rewarded with your compassion."

"You're troubled. Anyone can see it. I want to help you out because it's hard to watch you be so miserable over some guy." Jimin answered honestly.

"It bothers you?" She looked up at him.

He nodded. "You'd be surprised. I also have a degree in psychology, and I feel like using it. Now talk."

"I don't know where to start."

"Alright then." He leaned back on the couch. "Just give me a rundown of your guys's relationship in the past couple of months."

"He's been unreadable." She began, "Even the most easy going conversations end in fights. He raises his voice and I raise mine. Then he leaves before we can even resolve the issue."

"He leaves? How often?"

She sighed. "Every time. Usually he'll spend the night at a friends or his sisters house. Sometimes he'll go without warning. Like earlier— He was supposed to meet me at the gala. He let me know he was in Jakarta for a last minute business trip after I arrived. No heads up or anything."

Jakarta? He can not be this stupid. Jimin thought to himself.

Jimin knew damn well Minhyuk wasn't on a business trip. Jimin's reasoning behind his lateness earlier had something to do with Minhyuk anyway.

But he couldn't tell her that.

He couldn't tell her exactly everything just yet. It wouldn't fit into the plans he had.

"Why do you think he can't communicate with you?" Jimin questioned her.

"I tend to over exaggerate. I ask too many questions. He doesn't give me any details, so I'm left to assume." She sipped on her glass.

"As anyone would." He added, "Now is there anything he says— when he does talk to you in particular that seems to set you off?"

"I'm embarrassed to say." Jangmi swallowed, eyes rolling over to the floor.

Jimin sat up from his relaxed position, scooting closer to the girl.

"I said talk to me. Tell me the good and the bad, I want to hear everything."

And so she rambled.

"My body. The way I look." The girl breathed out.  "He doesn't like it. Well he does— but only when it's convenient to him."

"Go on."

"He doesn't like the way I dress. Everything I wear is revealing. It's a problem. An embarrassment. I could make eye contact with someone that isn't him, and he could think I'm trying to seduce them. I could wear a hazmat suit and he'd accuse me of trying to show off myself. It's not fair to me. I've tried to hard."

Shit. With a body like that, showing off just came naturally. Her body was perfect, and anyone could tell no matter what she wore. But it was nothing to blame her for.

"I like to have fun. I love to party and travel whenever I can. I like to drink too. Socializing and discovering new things is something I love most. Exploring what the world has to offer is something that exites me. But in his eyes, it's just a problem. I need to grow up, think about our future instead of trying to be out running wild."

With the way she was talking, you could tell she’s been sitting with it for a minute.

She continued. "That morning I came over to your home for breakfast. He called me his whore-ish girlfriend when I got home. A daytime drinker too. I hadn't even told him I was over at another man's house either."

"And the sex. Don't even get me started on that shit. I've never came! Because of him at least. It's the same shit every time. He doesn't listen to what I want to do. It's all about him! So many nights I end up having to finish myself off."

Jimin swallowed. At least she was comfortable.

She could laugh. Hearing herself talking about her boyfriend out loud made her release how many issues the couple had.

"It's not fair to me. Why do I feel like I can never be myself in front of my own boyfriend? You're probably sick of listening. I'm sorry." The girl set the empty glass on the small table in front of them.

Jangmi felt so vulnerable in front of him. Venting to Jimin made her realize she was hurting a lot more than she thought she was.

"Has he done that much damage to you?" Jimin uttered, focusing all of his attention on her.

"I told you when we started. I'm allowing you to communicate with me as much as you need to. I may be a guy but I'm not him."

"I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Stop apologizing." He chuckled into her ear. "How about we move the conversation somewhere else? You seem to be a bit shaken up by him, and you don't need unnecessary anxiety."

She nodded.

"You still don't look at me." He smiled.

She couldn't attempt to convince herself any further.

The Park Jimin she had loathed for year after year, was sort of attractive.

In this short span of time, she found herself checking him out. How could she not? He looked strikingly handsome.

He had a different look than Minhyuk. Obviously they weren't the same person. But it was like a different vibe.

Jimin had a dark exterior. A boss-like look if you will. The type of guys young women would write mafia fan fictions about. The type you'd make scenarios about before you slept.

She had a boyfriend. But she couldn't stop her wandering eyes. He was so tidy, so well kept. He was so clean.

Jimin was such a man. He made Minhyuk look like a shrimp.

She thought she still didn't like him, but how could she? He had listened to all of her worries without complaining. He asked her questions in relation.

Sure, it was the bare minimum. She'd been so used to below the bar treatment that she forgot what it had been like to really talk to someone. Someone who wasn't her best friend.

"I thought you said I didn't need any unnecessary anxiety." She breathed out.

Why did I just say that? I practically just confessed that he makes me nervous. She thought.

"I make you anxious?" He leaned in closer to her, staring deeply into her.

"N-No. Just forget I said that." She laughed nervously. "This wine was very good!" She rose up her empty glass from the table.

"You're cute." Her sudden nervousness made Jimin chuckle. "Can I tell you something, Ms. Yoo?"

Her ears perked up at the familiar name, nodding afterwards.

Jimin leaned his body closer to hers, making sure their legs touched. Bringing his mouth to her ear, he whispered.

"I'm very attracted to you."

"W-What?!" Jangmi hiccuped.

She had to be dreaming. There was no way Jimin could've possibly said that. It had to have been some sort of mishearing.

"Minhyuk isn't the man that you need him to be." He licked his lips. "You need an escape. A euphoria. And I am more than willing to fulfill that."

"You can't be serious." She backed away from him. "As many problems as we have I still have a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend who's not doing what he needs to. A relationship works both ways, but to me it looks so one sided."

"I'm not going to cheat on him because of a few lousy mistakes." She crossed her arms.

"I never said anything about you being a cheater." He answered immediately. "Think about this carefully Jangmi. All I'm offering here is to be your fantasy."

"Fantasy?" She swallowed.

"I'm offering to do everything he's not doing. You're not happy and it's obvious. I'm willing to cater all of your needs. I'll be the attentive, communicating, adventurous man you fantasize about." He explained.

"I don't know..." She trailed off.

"I can give you time to think about it. I'm not looking for an answer right on the spot. I know it's a lot to take in." He spoke softly, making sure not to pressure her.

It was a bad idea. A terrible one. A stupid decision that was up to her to make. Truly.

But she needed a break. An escape was exactly what Jangmi was lacking in her life.

Minhyuk was supposed to be her escape from reality. He was slacking in the boyfriend department and he wasn't doing what he signed himself up to do.

Jimin desired to fulfill her wishes, so why not let him?

He already had done more for her then Minhyuk has in the past three months. If her boyfriend wasn't willing to put out anytime soon, why would she wait on him?

Jimin's proven that he genuinely cares for her well-being. He actually considers the words that come out of her mouth. Whereas Minhyuk does the opposite.

It wouldn't hurt to try it out.

"Can we kiss?" Jangmi asked Jimin boldly. She leaned closely to Jimin, like how they were moments before.

She was nervous as hell. She was a confident woman but in front of Jimin she crumbled. She was a shy, anxious mess.

She hadn't sensed the feeling since her first meeting with Minhyuk. This time, it was much more intense.

"I thought you'd never ask." Jimin smiled, reaching for the back of her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Jimin's lips were even better than she imagined. Opposed to Minhyuk, Jimin had very plump, big round lips.

The kiss was sensational. The two started out slow but the kiss got heated quickly. They were desperate to try the other out.

They yearned for their mouths to be so much closer. They needed to feel one another closely.

Jimin was powerful. He displayed dominance over her mouth, wanting to show her how bad he wanted her.

The kiss was wet and loud. Jimin's kisses were getting less innocent by the second. Jangmi couldn't help but do the same. Her lips smacked together with his messily.

The couple pulled away from each other to catch their breaths.

Jangmi looked at him, speaking through her gasps. "I'll do it, please."

Jimin smiled, grabbing her once more into a sweet kiss.

He couldn't help but cockily smirk into her mouth, knowing damn well he had her wrapped around his finger.

He knew she couldn't turn back now. She was enjoying herself all too much.

All he could wonder was, ‘Why am I still hard?”

༊—

"Only one? You can not be serious."

"It's true. I know its hard to believe but I've only had one serious girlfriend. I've messed around a couple times but I don't feel like that really counts you know." Jimin explained, "What about you?"

Jimin and Jangmi had enjoyed the takeout Chinese food he brought for the both of them.

In the plastic container, Jimin had given her a batch of homemade kimchi he had made and fermented in his home.

The two were drinking white wine on the bed Jangmi and her boyfriend shared. Cracking jokes and telling stories in their pajamas while a useless film was playing in the background.

"I've only ever been with Minhyuk. Aside from some flings before but it was only a few times. I'm inexperienced I'd say." Jangmi laughed.

The last part of her sentence peaked Jimin's interest. "Inexperienced? I know the other night you said you guys didn't do as much as you'd like but I'm sure you and Minhyuk have done plenty. You've been together for quite some time."

Jangmi was wearing a two piece pink and black velvet pajama set she had bought online. It was a cropped tank with shorts and it would be a lie to said she was showing off just a bit for Jimin.

And he definitely was invested. Her slim waist and glimmering figure was on display just for him to see.

She couldn't say she wasn't staring at him either. The sweatpants he wore to bed definitely peaked her interest.

His dick print was extremely prominent. Her eyes would casually drop to below sea level.

"You're willing to talk about my sex life with my boyfriend?" Jangmi laughed as she rose her eyebrows. "I feel like that's the last thing you'd want to know about."

"I'm more than willing to talk about anything with you." He replied. "And besides, anything he can do I can do better. Or in this case, what he doesn't do."

"Well for starters, he's very self centered. There's no foreplay and there's no edging of any kind. I can't suggest anything he hasn't tried before. Strictly giving him head and missionary. That's the farthest we've ever gone." She began.

Jimin almost spat out his wine. "He won't do absolutely anything but those two?"

She shook her head. "Not a damn thing. He doesn't like talking about possibly trying something new either. It upsets him."

"Does that not frustrate you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "It used to. Not so much anymore. I just gave up."

His eyes softened as he looked at her. How could she be so oblivious? She was clearly discouraged. It was obvious Minhyuk only cared about his own pleasure. She shouldn't feel hopeless in her own relationship.

"Well if it was up to you what would you like to do?" He asked her curiously.

"Well" She paused. "I want something steamy, hot and rough. I want to be surprised. To be dominated and told what to do. I want to feel hot and bothered, unknowing of what's to come next for me. Oh my gosh I want to be talked to! I want to be desired and needed. Not used as someone's fleshlight. Something exciting and new."

Minhyuk's screw up was Jimin's perfect opportunity.

Jimin swiftly swept the glass of wine from Jangmi's grasp, setting their drinks on the nightstand.

"What're you—"

Jangmi's words were cut off by Jimin crashing his lips onto hers. Her lips immediately reacted, the blissful feeling coming to a return.

Jimin didn't kiss her like he did the other night. He was rough, and his mouth powered over hers.

He was handsy, his fingertips roughly skimming all over his waist and ass. He pulled the two in closely, making their body's touch.

Jimin found himself getting too far ahead. He quickly pulled away from her mouth. To his surprise the girl's lips were still attempting to cling to his, making him chuckle.

"Jangmi" He grabbed the back of her neck, making her face him. "I want you."

The two stared into each other. Seeing into each other.

She finally made eye contact with him. His eyes burned into hers.

"Let me have you." He spoke out, waiting for her approval. His gaze made her heart race. She knew he was after her. She was the one he craved.

"Please." Jangmi nodded.

He smiled before kissing her once more.

Even if she didn't know much about what to do, she followed his movements well. Minhyuk never kissed her how Jimin did, with such desire and passion.

Her boyfriends kisses never left her feeling needed. Often she felt that Minhyuk seen her as some sort of chore he was forced to do.

"So pretty" Jimin innocently fondled with her clothing, before slipping the two piece right off her body. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath the top, leaving her in her panties alone.

"Did you wear those for me? You looked fucking amazing." He whispered as his mouth traveled from her lips to the nape of her neck.

"Jimin" She softly called out, moving her neck to give him more access. "N-No hi—"

"No hickeys. Don't worry I got you." He breathed out against her skin, lips trailing further and further down her body.

His mouth lathered her body with pure admiration, no part of her being untouched.

His lips came to a halt below her stomach. He looked back up at her. "Are you ready?"

"I've actually never—" She answered hesitantly. "I've never done this before. But I'm ready." She halfway mumbled.

She was embarrassed. 28 years old with no experience of being orally pleasured down there. It truly was nothing to be ashamed of, but her own conscious was turning against her.

"I understand, Jangmi. I'll take care of you." Jimin flashed her a reassuring smile.

She nodded, sending him the approval he needed.

He stared into her as he shifted her panties to the side with his teeth. Her glistening slit in front of him made his mouth water.

As much as he wanted to immediately feast on her, he needed to take his time. It was her first time and he was going to make sure she was never going to forget it.

She needed to think of him. If Minhyuk ever wanted to try to eat her out, Jimin wanted her to only remember how he did it.

He started slow, soft innocent licks against her clit. As he began, he caressed her thighs in order to relax her for comfort.

Jangmi flinched at the sudden wetness on her clit. How she dreamed of someone going down on her, and it was finally the day.

“Oh wow,” She exhaled.

And it felt better than she had imagined.

The small licks eventually weren't enough for her, she moved her hips upwards in attempt for her to get more of herself in his mouth. “M-More.”

"Desperate aren't we?" Jimin smirked against her heat. “I thought this was your first time?”

“J-Just shut up and do more”

With that Jimin's soft, precious licks turned into rough and desirous ones.

“Jimin I—“ Jangmi's body naturally retracted. Her legs closing shut as her clit throbbed due to the stimulation.

“Tastes so good.” He hummed. “Never had pussy like this before.”

Jimin used one of his hands to hold her shaking body in place. He was in great need of her juices, and a few licks weren't going to do it for him.

Boy was he addicted.

He buried his mouth into her heat, flicking her clit with tongue.

"S-Shit Jimin" She moaned out breathlessly, her fingers running through Jimin's luscious silver locks. “Fuck— feels too good.”

Jimin chuckles at her words, looking up at her with a smirk. "I know I am, baby. I think I love eating your pussy." He says before diving back in, licking and sucking on her clit until she moans out his name once again.

“T-Think I love having my pussy ate.” She breathed out.

He moaned into her heat causing the vibrations to shake into her. He quickened up his tongue, traveling all over her with his mouth.

"Jimin— I feel it!" Jangmi arched her back as the rise in her stomach began to grow.

"Fuck I'm cumming"

"Cum for me beautiful."

༊—

"I have something for you." Jimin approached his secretary's desk, as chilidish grin spread upon his face.

"Sir I'm rather busy" Secretary Jeon answered as he typed away on his computer.

His work was piling up on him. He could handle it, but he needed to stay focused on what was assigned to him.

"Alrighttt" Jimin balanced on his heels before turning around to leave. "Guess you didn't want Ms. Kim's number."

"What?!" Secretary Jeon stood up from his seat. "No— you really were able to get it?!"

"I'm hurt you doubted my skills." He touched his heart. "But yes, I was successful. Successful enough to get you lunch plans."

"Lunch plans?"

"You're going to meet Ms. Kim for lunch at that sushi place on the corner. Yeah, you're welcome."

He hugged the man tightly, squealing like a girl "Oh my gosh! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Anything for my best employee." Jimin pat his back. "Now get back to work. The harder you work, the faster time will go by."

"Yes sir!" He saluted him, making Jimin laugh.

He exited his secretary's office, entering his own office next door.

Taking a seat at his desk, he set up his IPad in front of him, using it to FaceTime Jangmi since he got her number the night before.

It rang and rang until she finally picked up.

"Hey beautiful." He smiled into the lens. "How's work so far?"

Her striking visuals immediately captivated as soon as the camera came into a clear view.

She was in her office, doing some work on the computer. Her IPad was on a stand by her desktop, so he could see her from the waist up.

"Stressful. I'm ready to be home already. I miss the Chinese food we ate yesterday."

She could get used to this. The cold man who resented her was gone. He was admiring her and she soaked in every second.

"Well I miss you." He chuckled. "Should I let you go? You seem busy."

She shook her head. "No, don't. It'll be nice to have you on the phone while I work. I'm usually all alone unless my secretary comes in."

"Same here."

She paused. "Speaking of secretaries, how did Secretary Jeon react when you told him?"

"He jumped up out of his chair. Gave me a hug too." He laughed. "What about Ms. Kim?"

"She screamed in my ear. She went on and on about him and what she should wear. It was cute." She smiled, thinking about how her friend jumped for joy at the news.

"So when are we going to go on our lunch date?" He rested his chin on his palm, staring at the screen. "Unless shrimpy is going to take you out."

"He never does. I'm not doing anything for lunch today, if you'd like to come pick me up." She winked at the screen.

Interrupting their conversation, one of her assistants knocked on the door.

"Ah give me a second." She told Jimin before speaking out to her employee. "Come in!"

"Ms. Yoo, you have a delivery." She held up a rather large bouquet of flowers.

The flowers were roses painted deep yet bright purple, wrapped in black florist paper.

The roses were arranged in a heart shape, tied together with a ribbon in the same color.

"Let me help you." Jangmi got up from her desk chair, seeing as the roses almost threw her assistant out of balance.

Taking the bouquet in her hand, she thanked her before her assistant left her office.

Hearing the door close, Jimin spoke up. "What was your delivery?"

"Here, look." She took a seat back on her chair, showing off the bouquet she was delivered.

"They're beautiful. Who sent them to you?" He leaned closer to the screen.

"I don't know. There should be a card or something." She set the bouquet on her desk, turning it over to look at the card.

Roses for my rose

PJM♡

Looking at the card attached to the ribbon, she smiled seeing what it read.

"You got me good. Thank you so much." She blew a kiss at the screen. "They're so gorgeous"

Minhyuk had given her flowers before. So why was her heart beating quicker than when he got them for her?

"You're welcome beautiful. Like I said, I'm your fantasy. So anything he wouldn't do, I would. And better." He licked his lips, staring at her.

The nickname, 'beautiful' rolled off his tongue so elegantly. Like it only belonged in his mouth.

"Anything?" She leaned in, fondling with the material on her blouse.

"Anything my rose." He answered back, leaning into the screen like she did.

"I don't want to go out for lunch. I think I'd much rather stay in my office and have you join me."

"And what exactly would we do in your office?" He rose his eyebrow.

"Why don't you come over and find out?" She responded.

He didn't need to think twice about his next move. "I'm on my way."

༊—

"Honestly, I'm really glad to see you again." Secretary Jeon exhaled, his faint dimples on full display in front of her.

"Me too. I didn't think we'd end up meeting like this." Yeri shyly responded. "This was sudden. Not that I mind at all but I thought we wouldn't see each other for quite some time."

The two had met at the nearby sushi place, just like how Mr. Park arranged. At first Secretary Jeon was a shy mess, but he was easily able to adjust.

Yeri wasn't any better. Spamming Jangmi's inbox moments before she entered the building.

"Me too. But Mr. Park assured me he could get your contact information. Considering I forgot the last time." He laughed.

"I'm glad he was successful. I'm surprised he was able to get it out of Jangmi. They hate each other." She added on.

"I'm not so sure about that." Secretary Jeon sipped on his iced water. "It's some petty rivalry. Who knows, they could become good friends."

Yeri nodded in agreement. "The whole rivalry thing is just childish. It's been so many years since they broke out in the industry. If anything they'd be more powerful together."

"I agree." Secretary Jeon nodded. "But let's not talk about them. I came here to talk about us."

"Us?" She rose her eyebrow. "I didn't think we were there yet Secretary Jeon."

"I don't mean to be too forward with you. My apologies Ms. Kim."

"Call me Yeri."

"Hm?" He tilted his head.

"Calling me Ms. Kim makes me feel too professional. And if you don't mind I'd like to call you by your name, Jungkook."

He nodded, a stupid smile plastered on his face. "I'd like that Yeri."

The couple sat in silence for a second, simply just soaking in each other's presence.

Yeri wouldn't take back what she said previously. It was true love at first sight. The way they were so comfortable with each other so soon.

He undeniably felt butterflies around her. His fake confidence was adorable to her, seeing how he was so shy and cutesy.

"Before I forget," Secretary Jeon cleared his throat. "Saturday there's a gathering at the company's office. I-I was wondering if you'd want to go as my date? It's nothing too extravagant. I'm pretty sure Ms. Yoo and Mr. Lee were invited as well. There's drinks, food, and music. Of course if you don't want to go you—"

Yeri laughed, cutting off his rambling. "I'll go with you Jungkook."

He couldn't help but smile. "I'll pick you up tonight at 8 then?"

༊—

"If I got to see you in that skirt everyday, I'd never miss a day at work." Jimin locked the door to her office behind him as he approached her desk.

"Shut up." She shook off the sensual compliment, standing up from her chair.

[prismuffin]

I don't know why this is so funny to me, but how do you think the rest of the male Justice league members, would react to a Gotham rouge Reader moving out of Gotham and setting up base in their City instead.

The biggest complaint the reader has is that it's cramped in Gotham and he can't do his petty schemes in peace. (Ex: Stealing a broken street sign, so the city is forced to replace it with a brand new sign.)

- Crow

A/n: SO sorry this took a minute Crow! I just got off of work not too long ago and my computer was acting up! I kinda turned this into you being kinda a "villain", (but not really but you do commit crimes) and attempting to make them go back to being a hero after they leave. But anyway, I think-

Wally would probably think you did it on purpose, (you totally did, don't lie to me). He'd be annoyed but amused? Like he's curious as to why you left Gotham, and after hearing that getting beaten to a pulp for something as simple as littering wasn't ideal for you he'd just laugh and agreed. He told you not to get into too much trouble but that'd be very boring. Wally tried to ignore your growing threatening presence in his town but it was as if you were testing his patience specifically, and you were but still. If you actually did enough to make him go back to being kid flash he'd probably resent you for a while but would quickly find the little cat and mouse game you guys have going on fun.

Bruce immediately knew you did it on purpose, of course you would try and make him become Batman again. He probably wouldn't necessarily care as to why you left Gotham because he thinks he knows the whole reason. But after explaining that it's not all about him and that Gotham was just a shithole in general then he'd just be annoyed. Like out of all the places to move to you moved to the one place where he was?? He left Gotham because of the crime rate and yet here you were dragging that crime with you. He wouldn't try and stop you even if you taunted him specifically but he'd definitely keep up with any news about you and if you were close to being caught.

Superman would probably just think it was a coincidence, finding you in the same city as him. He would probably be the quickest to return to his mantle, though not officially. He'd stop you from your petty crimes and ask what you were really doing in his city. When you explain that you just wanted to leave Gotham because you can't do your crimes in peace he'd probably reply with something cheesy like "Well it seems you won't be able to do them at all, not with me here." He'd probably turn you in to the police then get annoyed when you break out and taunt him. To you, it's a bit of a joke especially since you already completed your mission of making him because Superman again. To him however, it's a lot more serious. He's gonna take you down and keep you down. You find it so funny cause you really aren't doing anything too bad.

Flash would initially be a bit like Bruce. He knows why your here and no he's not gonna let you get to him. However he finds himself drawn to things like newspapers addressing your recent crimes for small rewards or warnings that come on TV about your vandalism and such. Seeing you taunt him practically every day while not getting caught is almost angering him. Yeahhhh he definitely let you get to him. He literally doesn't care why you left Gotham honestly. He kinda goes from Bruce to Wally in a way, at first he was very annoyed but after catching you a couple of times, he ends up getting back into the groove of being the Flash pretty quickly.

( i'm so tired i'm sorry if this is short!! )

———

Directory

[shmowder]

I have a very important Patho character question which characters do you think would have a cat? If they could? Personally I think of one character who strikes me as a cat person for sure but that’s probably like the most obvious candidate for that

Ah yes the most obvious candidate

the candidate that is the most likely to be a cat person

The Pathologic character candidate

Of course I know them duh. It's so obvious I don't even need to name them

Anyway here's the tierlist.

I debated whether Dankovsky would be a cat or dog person, I settled on dog because he likes having control. But I don't see him as a pet person at all. He prefers observing animals and reading about them, not interacting with them. Dogs he can stand if they behave, but he absolutely won't entertain someone's cat or bird if he was a guest at their house.

Anna wouldn't want any pets but if she could stand an animal, a cat would be the best choice sine they tend to be the cleanest.

I like the Idea of Rubin taking care of a kitten and raising it into a cute cuddly cat that brightens his day. That man deserves happiness.

I also like the idea of him and Artemy being so big and scary yet end up having cats as pets. Artemy's cat could either be a stray that adopts itself into his life or a cat that Isidor used to take care of and now it follows Artemy.

Aglaya would like dogs for their loyalty rather than the need to control them, she'd still admire cats for their freedom and cleverness.

Yulia desperately wants a cat but I think she is scared deep down of getting too attached to it, especially with no veterinarian in town and how devastated she'd be if her cat passes away. So she skips on the whole ordeal. She pspspsps at strays when no one is looking tho, shares some of her food with them.

Alexander Saburov seems the type to have a childhood dog he grew very attached to. He doesn't fully understand cats and doesn't like that they can't be trained but he'd still do his best to take care of one if it became his pet.

I think it's very ironic how much Khan resembles an indoor domestic spoiled cat personality wise yet he is the leader of the dogheads. My theory is that he tried petting a cat one and it scratched him and he held a grudge ever since so he always claims that dogs are better.

Maria would get a black cat thinking it will help her appear more fearsome in the town people's eyes, only for the cat to end up being the most loving adorable ball of pure abyss. She would kill for her cat and keeps it protected safe inside her room, she plays with the cat and showers it in compliments and kisses after locking the door to make sure no one walks in on her showing her soft side. If this was the modern world, Maria would have so many pictures of her adorable black fluffball playing with her expensive pearl necklace or rolling around her priceless silky sheets.

Notkin already has a cat, even tho he himself has the personality of a loyal dog. Cats scratching him didn't deter him but made him learn to respect animal boundaries.

Mark Immortell's cat is the incarnation of a hell cat, the most evil sinister and annoying thing that will slap you with its paws for giving it any non luxury brand cat food. They're two sides of the same coin and only he and his cat understand each other.

Katerina's position is a pun. Yk cats eat mice and the rat prophet and all, so she never wants a cat around.

Sticky seems like he'd take care of strays because he sees himself in them. He understands cats better than anyone, he too hates being disturbed and likes spending time alone. And he is also endlessly curious. He takes it upon himself to feed Murky and give her candy at the start of the game just when she starts frequenting the haruspex lair.

Murky learned from him, she probably used to leave cats bowls of milk before Sticky informed her it's actually bad for them and they can't have milk.

-

If it wasn't limited to cats, a bird would suit Eva much more because they thrive under attention and require so much love and care. Owning a bird, let alone an exotic one like a parrot is almost a full time job.

Artemy has his bull pet in canon, I think Oyun used to have one too. It would be adorable if Murky just led a baby calf home once because she found it alone outside and Artemy just accepted it as a new part of the family.

The Kains do already have pets, the human kind. Aka the Stamatins. But if they absolutely had to pick a different one, I see the Judge maintaining a pristine aquarium for the most beautiful fish you've ever seen. It takes dedication, time, knowledge and lots of money. The fish might end up as the family pet as every person chips in every once in a while, Victor fixing the water filter etc.

The Stamatins themselves would probably keep lizards, maybe even snakes. I don't think they know how to take care of pets or even want to learn. However I do see them sharing custody over a pet rabbit when they were just kids. It drove Peter crazy because it kept eating his canvasses. So Andrey took it with him outside most of the time. It ended up getting picked off by a hawk. The two brothers spent the remainder of the week setting up a trap to kill the hawk and avenge their pet.

[moonyasnow]

Oh shit wait I forgot about these guys Uhhhhhhhh

TIME FOR TWO MORE BACKGROUND OCS

(I only have picrews of them right now)

But anyway, meet: Moreno Ashengrotto and Dermot Berg!

They're both in Pomefiore

Moreno Ashengrotto

RGB 61, 199, 123 Cecaelia (black and green instead of black and purple) Green eyes, white hair Skin a slight bit darker than Azul's SUPER thin body. Talkin' beanpole boi 181cm— A little bit taller than Azul despite being a year younger

Joined the Film Research Club. Is upset he always gets background roles with no lines, or jobs backstage. But it is slowly teaching him to work with others and make compromises. Vil's enforced skin-care routine is also making the acne he used to be embarrassed of start to disappear.

He's Azul's younger brother. Growing up, he idolized Azul even when he was being bullied. He was always jealous of Azul, and still is. Though this is partly because at some point, Azul also started becoming distant with him. In particular, Moreno pinpoints the day Azul and the Tweels became friends as the day they started to drift apart.

Really, he misses Azul. He may not have been bullied growing up like Azul was, he was mostly ignored instead. The kind of person you'd barely notice leaving a room. Their mother loved him just as much, of course, but Azul needed extra support due to his bullying.

Moreno is a bit of a diva who tries too hard to be cool like Azul but fails because of how bad he is at covering up how hard he's trying.

He also hates the Leeches for obvious reasons. Boy can hold a GRUDGE. His favorite thing to eat is eel. All because of the Tweels. He feels like they stole his big brother away from him.

He's petty and spiteful and a drama queen who whines when things don't go his way.

He always bothers Azul. Not really intentionally, but him trying to be just like Azul is just him trying to connect to him. So when Azul is upset with him for trying to cut into his profits, at least Azul actually pays attention to him instead of just ignoring his very existence like they're not brothers.

For some reason, people always seem to get his name wrong and call him 'Monero' ...It could be due to Dermot making business cards for him and spelling his name wrong

So now a lot of people call him that because that's what it said on the card

He also gets VERY upset if you intentionally call him that, so it's likely people started doing it just to spite him

He has a friend, Dermot, a tiger shark mer (based on Undertow, Morgana's pet tiger shark) who was also an outsider due to how small he is, especially for his species.

Dermot Berg

RGB 156, 150, 142 Tiger shark Dark grey/black hair, sandy brown eyes 155cm (AND UPSET ABOUT IT— will kick you if you call him short) Signature Spell: 'Not So Little' Lets him make himself a 195cm beefcake— but only for a little while

The two of them resolved to make sure no one would ever look down on them again! They may be called 'annoying runts' but not forever!

Moreno is the brain and Dermot the brawn.

They're two idiots and have Drake and Josh vibes. Or like Pinky and the Brain if Brain's intelligence were halved.

Moreno has 'comically incompetent evil guy' energy— like that small purple-haired guy from that one season of Total Drama(I forgor the name💀), and Dermot is Kronk but way less nice. But still both idiots

They're NRC first-years, both in Pomefiore

When they first got there Moreno tried to be all slick and start some kind of small business of his own selling potions he'd made— but he has way less rizz (and skill) than Azul and no one trusted him so he was no one's first choice. So he started making his prices lower.

He really became 'store brand' Azul. Which he was upset about— but at least he was actually associated with Azul now!

Moreno and Dermot also have matching shark tooth necklaces they never take off They fell out on their own after Dermot had tried charging someone and accidentally hit right into a rock wall instead They're like symbols that the two aren't going to let the world look down on them forever! As like a 'remember where we came from' sort of thing

And no you are not reading into anything; they are very gay for each other but both too used to being 'best friends' to fully notice they like the other as MORE than a friend AND too stupid to notice that the other likes them back

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @screamintoad

[batsplat]

RANDOM THOUGHT! BUT

jorge lorenzo choosing that dichotomy angel/demon as his symbol, u cant tell me he wasnt inspired by the sun/moon thing

Like come onnn

oh my god yeah. surely!! like you say, it's a dichotomy just like the sun/moon thing, and it's conceptually similar enough to valentino's that... surely... yeah. all about establishing this little network of symbols for himself, his own web of meaning - overtaking around the outside!! x-fuera!! lorenzo's land!! butter and hammer!! angel/demon!! - to build his own narrative about his career. and this tendency is obviously tied to his penchant for celebrations, where he ALSO has a complicated relationship to valentino. on the other hand he's very insistent that the whole thing was NOT originally inspired by valentino, but then on the other he's hyper aware of valentino's influence... so of course he wants his own set of codes too!! that are both inspired by valentino but doing his own thing! and yeah!! sun/moon vs angel/demon,, that does feel like!! surely!!

what I find interesting is how valentino doesn't really talk much about this sun/moon stuff, there's just a bunch of symbols and narratives and imagery he tosses in there sometimes without really verbalising why he's doing it. kinda leaving it up to others to read into it for the most part. whereas jorge is obviously... not like that, way more willing to actually discuss this stuff. there's clearly something appealing to him about the idea of having a 'good' and a 'dark' side, he likes all this self-reflection stuff, loves a bit of omphaloskepsis, wants to continually analyse himself and discover his inner truth or whatever. and if he'd seen all the sun/moon stuff growing up and was thinking how much he vibed with that kind of dichotomy... of course it's extremely jorge to want to put his own spin on something valentino did in this way. makes perfect sense

was thinking about this passage from jorge's biography, obviously not written by jorge directly but the whole thing was written in close collaboration with him --

The material for this book was therefore a little unusual and the only possible objective was to get to the bottom of this combative, glory-hunting rebel, who sometimes looks at the world with defiance and arrogance and at other times with fear and a burning desire to learn and be liked. The devil in him has probably become more famous than the angel, because there have been plenty of controversial stories written about Jorge in the past. But his intimate side is interesting as well, and it's never too late for you to get to know him.

-- which. lol. what a writing style. but anyway, I do think this ties into the appeal of the whole thing to jorge... he sees the two sides in fundamental opposition and also thinks the devil side is non-negotiable for professional athletes (true) but. but,,, the angel side is kinda like. what he's had inside him all along. the secret soft boi underneath the hard shell

and then there's a quote from yamaha stablemate james toseland,, where he's talking about jorge and valentino and it's kinda on a similar theme (x):

once the helmet's off, jorge's shy!! reserved!! a nice bloke!! the devil version is cocky and annoying, but he's also got this Other Side to him....

but yeah, unlike with valentino, we do actually have jorge himself talking a fair bit about this stuff. give us some insight into his thinking on this. like from 2013 --

-- where he's linking the branding to the 'devilish' number... the 99. he wants to be a good guy!! but he also can't lose his devilish side!! and this from from 2014 (x) --

-- where he's saying he's more of a devil than an angel because of the nature of competition. and this from 2017 (x) --

-- which. fascinated by the idea that yamaha was like... no. no devil horns on our bike. in the same spirit as forcing him to work with a psychologist, a red line. he did finally get to add the devil's horns in his ducati time:

and lastly this from 2017, where he expands on his choice to switch to two devils (x):

it's all aggressively jorge, isn't it. like valentino, he's hyper aware of his personal branding and puts so, so much thought into it. but he's more talkative about it than valentino is, just a bit more earnest about the whole thing. still talking about switching numbers, getting rid of the manager linked to the original '48'... of course that was hugely meaningful to him, of course he takes these branding exercises very seriously as a means for self-expression. also very endeared by him talking at several points about how he's more of an angel now, he's striving to be more of an angel, the angel as an ideal etc etc. BUT the demon/devil is non-negotiable and a part of him he must also embrace... to achieve his internal balance... but now that he's got TWO devils, he interprets the devil as being more mischief than evil. fascinating

and it's very valentino in how jorge finds a way to tie this into his own arc!! "special tastes that may not be understood by everyone" - Your Fave Is Queer-Coded lol - but also the point is that it's very much an expression of individuality, him determined to make his peace with being a bit of a rebel, a non-conformist, his own guy etc etc. the valentino commitment to self-narrativisation, this tendency to refer back to his own past work and build on it. very valentino-esque commitment to the drama of it all, the theatre of talking about The Angel and The Devil inside himself,, he's so sincere about it, so dedicated to verbalising what these two sides mean to him at different stages of his career, what it means for him to balance them. he needs the devil!! he's becoming more of an angel!! the devil is an inevitable part of competitive sports!! he's getting himself two devils!! the two devils are about mischief not evil!! and so on

MY random thought I'd somehow never had before is that. given that this is jorge's whole... thing, isn't it kinda funny that valentino repeatedly used 'god' and 'devil' to describe casey?? I mean to be clear this definitely wasn't aimed at jorge, it predates the jorge rivalry and certainly the angel/devil thing, it's just kind of funny. valentino, jorge would have loved you to use those descriptors for him!! but no, it was very much a casey thing to valentino,, he deploys the 'devil' label once each for two other riders (toseland and elias) but not for any of his other major rivals afaik. valentino uses the word to talk about casey as early as 2007 and as late as 2011 -- for whatever reason, this is very much linked to casey in his mind. annoying

anyway. yeah. I agree with you -- I think it's got to be very likely that jorge was on some level inspired by the sun/moon thing. similar conceptually in terms of exploring his inner dichotomy or whatever, a way of building on his own little network of symbols, him once again wanting to put his own spin on some rossi magic. and he stuck with it a long time!! he adopted the symbols in 2008, in a period of personal turmoil and also during his first year as valentino's teammate. and so he dealt with all the stress and the change and the trouble and the heartache by: coming up with a new number, figuring out all the ways said new number was weighty and meaningful to him, thought of new symbols that would fit in with this rebrand, made it all part of his Journey of Personal Growth. probably inspired by valentino - it is just quite similar the more you think about it!! the balance between valentino's light and dark side, of course jorge would vibe with that. and it makes sense for jorge to look to valentino for inspiration on that kind of thing!! and then he made it into a Whole Thing... very sweet

[verdantlights]

begin again - Purity Ring

starcrossed/serizon first meeting

Horizon - purple

Seraph - blue

Horizon is gently kicking his feet, focusing on the pat pat pat his legs make against the mattress. He was sitting alone, having just been put in his new room. He was told he'd have a roommate--which he was not excited about--in a few hours, once they were processed and into the system.

He wanted a room to himself, but he is a good pet. He needs to be good and not ask for anything he doesn't need. He needs to make Scorpius proud. He knows he is a pet, but his guardian treats him well. She taught him about the stars in the sky and everything else he needed to know. She paid a lot of money for him to be here, so he needs to make it worth it.

Horizon hums, his legs stilling. He stands up and makes his way outside into the garden. He walks all the way to the far corner where a big tree with a lot of shade resided. He saw it earlier on his way in, but he wasn't allowed to go over yet. He wants to take a nap under this tree.

He doesn't get very far before he feels a sleep attack hit him. He trips on a root and collapses face first into the ground. Everything goes dark.

☆

When he wakes, he's back in his room. He huffs, annoyed that he's not under the tree he was supposed to be napping under. He goes to sit up, but realizes that his head is throbbing like crazy. He touches his forehead only to be met with bandages. He must've hit his head when he fell.

It's then he realizes a bit too late that he's not alone in his room.

"Hello, you're awake" comes a voice from across the room, on the opposite bed. The voice sounded like it was ringing in his head. It echoed. It sounded surreal.

"Ah... and you are...?"

"I am Seraph. I am your roommate, it's nice to meet you."

"...Likewise, I suppose. Did you take me back to my- our room?"

"No, the administrators did. Does your injury still hurt? I might be able to help."

"No, I'm fine. I just want to go back to that tree. I wanted to take a nap, but it seems like I already got one."

"Nonsense, you can take another one. You've only been asleep for one system hour, I can take you back to that tree. The garden is still open and the sun is still out."

Horizon was put off by the fact that whoever this was had it's eyes closed. The aura was unnerving and such a beautiful voice and face seemed... odd.

"...Fine. As long as you're quiet and you let me sleep." Horizon tries to sit up again, this time successful.

"Of course, Horizon. You're beautiful when you sleep."

Horizon pauses, he's flustered, sure, but how did it know his name? He was more concerned about this than the initial compliment.

"How do you know my name? Did the admins tell you?"

Seraph only shakes it's head in the negative. Now Horizon was a bit terrified. Horizon didn't have a brand like any of the other kids yet, so it couldn't have seen that. He was more terrified than anything.

"Do not be afraid, Horizon."

He inhaled sharply, "Right."

Seraph only smiles, "Come on, you still want that nap, don't you?" It holds out it's hand for Horizon.

He takes it hesitantly, "Y-Yeah."

Seraph says nothing more and simply guides Horizon by the hand back to the tree he had fallen down by a mere hour ago. There were kids who were looking at them strangely, but no one seemed to stop them.

Horizon's curiosity got the better of him, "Your eyes are closed, how can you see? Your hands are also really cold."

"Ah, I can see. People find my eyes unsettling, so I keep them closed for their sake. Apologies for my hands, they're always cold."

"Oh... can I see your eyes?"

They stop. Not because of Horizon's question, but because they've reached the tree. Seraph sits down with it's back against the tree and guides Horizon to lay his head in it's lap. Horizon hesitates.

"Lay your head down and I'll show you my eyes, then you can rest."

Horizon huffs, "Fine."

He lays down and looks up expectantly at Seraph. It took one of it's cold hands and traced Horizon's jawline. It slowly opened it's eyes. The first thing horizon saw was black. It's eyes were voids.

"They're pretty, like black holes. You know... I was named after the event horizon of a black hole. My guardian... tells me so... all the time..." He felt himself growing tired. It didn't feel like a sleep attack, nor did it feel like usual exhaustion. He has insomnia, this isn't normal.

The last thing he sees before his eyes shut is splotchy pink blooming across Seraph's face with it's eyes widening and smile dropping in awe.

Horizon thought it's face resembled clouds over a pink setting sun.

[ghostofafruit]

I'm somewhere between too sober and too drunk, so here's some doctorrose angst. Soulmate au, because i'm a sucker for soulmates. Enjoy.

The most important sentence your soulmate will say to you is etched into your skin. The colour of your words vary from type of love to type of love. The Doctor had golden. The colour meant for love everlasting.

Sometimes he wishes he didn't. He hasn't met his soulmate, and he probably never will. Who speaks Earth English, on Gallifrey? Who speaks any English on this planet? No one. Just him. He wonders sometimes if the words will fade when he inevitable regenerates for the first time. If golden letters will vanish for something else and he'll be left wondering if he met his soulmate on some distant planet.

He goes on like that for some time. Alternating between loving the mystery the gold etched onto his hip, and desping it. It brings adventure, but it will also bring pain. How can it not? Compared to, well, any species that would speak Earth English he might as well be immortal. He's guarenteed to outlive his soulmate. The golden kind too.

Sometimes he hopes the letters will fade. He hopes the letters will dissapear from his skin, only to replaced by red words, for just an ordinary romantic soulmate, or better yet blue. Words meant for your platonic soulmate. Perhaps, if he's very lucky, one day it will happen. Or maybe it will happen when he's very unluckily. The Doctor can never make up his mind.

When the Time War comes, he waits for the gold to vanish. To stop existing all together. It's rare, it's not meant to happen, but sometimes soul bonds shatter. Usually when the other does something so utterly terrible it could never be forgiven nor understood by their destined. He waits ever day. And yet, there, etched in to his hip, the golden letters remain.

With the end of the time war he half expects the words to go black, ashy, and cracked. The sign your soulmate is dead. He's heard tit plenty, never from someone he thinks was his soulmate, but perhaps it had been someone he knew. His soulmate isn't dead. The gold remains just that, not budging one bit.

It gives him a little faith actually. A little bit of hope in his darkest time. He clings to it, and really its what drags him to Earth. If his soulmate speaks Earth English, Earth he will protect. For them.

He hadn't meant to land in 2005, he was aiming for the titanic actually. Perfect first trip for his brand new regeneration. Maybe. Well, not really. Oh well.

The Doctor hadn't indented to escape that explosion. For one thing he'd thought the broadcast had been coming from the shop, and for enough he thought it would be entirely deserted. Besides, he might as well burn through his regenerations, that way he might stand a chance at spending the rest of his life with whoever his soulmate is. Still, one brilliant human throws it all off.

There was something about her, just drawing him in. She brought a smile to his face. A real one. An actual genuine smile. Rose Tyler was, in a word, fantastic. Still, he'd probably never see her again.

But he did, accidentally. He had honestly just been tracking the signal, but he'd picked up the wrong one. Finding her the second time was a little trickier. He wasn't sure if it would be worth it. It was of course. The conscious had caught on to her, she was being tracked. Through her boyfriend. The Doctor didn't let himself wonder why the thought of that, human, dating Rose annoyed him. There wasn't time too.

She'd saved the day. His Rose Tyler. Brilliant, fantastic, Rose Tyler. Yet she didn't want to come with him. Smart too, that Rose Tyler. So he went to the Titanic, talked one family out of going, and went himself anyway. Went all through out history. Changing little things, viewing the human race.

Eventually though, he was reminded of one crucial detail. His ship, his frankly magnificent ship, she travelled in time. And Rose didn't know. Fantastic Rose Tyler had no idea that his ship didn't just hope around the space of the universe, she went through out all of the universe's history.

With Rose on board things seem better. Most nights. The nigthts he doesn't sleep anyway. Knowing he isn't alone in his ship, that she's nearby. On the nights he sleeps though, those nights are rough still. They will be for a while, and he thinks he can just about handle that.

Rose, brilliant and gorgeous Rose, she figures it out though. She figures out something is wrong and she helps. That's what she does, everywhere they go, help. So she does it for him too, she drags him into her own bed, and snuggles close to him. She listens to him talk through his nightmares, even if she can't fully understand, and she brings him teas and coffees and hot chocolates. He thinks he loves her, and it terrifies him.

They figure out they're soulmates. Though they don't share their words. Not yet anyway. He's scared of the commitment the letters etched into his thigh whisper, and she's scared of something worse.

He dies before he can tell her what is etched into his jip. He regenerates, and for the first time in his life he is terrified. What if he does lose those words? What if he loses Rose? He doesn't. It was the first thing he'd checked after he got back to the Tardis to change.

The Doctor supposes Rose knows now what his soulmark reads. They don't talk about it though. Not at Christmas dinner with her mum, not when they get back to the tardis. They just let it sit between them, and he wonders if he would have done the same in the body before him.

They go anywhere. They travel and they don't stop. They go on dates, and adventures they end up calling dates anyway. And one day he asks a question. He's not sure why he does it. Not sure at all. Maybe the moment just felt right.

He could have phrased it any number of ways, and yet he chose those words. He wonders now if those are the words etched into her hip, a mirror of his.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

The words are settled now. They're out in the open. He wonders if it's an omen but they keep travelling. They don't get long. Not really.

The Doctor knew he'd lose his soulmate. He'd known from the very beginning. He just, hadn't expected it like this. He toys with the idea of pulling in a few of his old selves. His last body would help in a heartbeat for Rose, but he knows that's far to risky. So instead he burns up a star. He picks a star at random, burning it up just to say goodbye. When he says that, and she sobs, he knows what her words were. He doesn't need to ask, and they don't have the time.

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. Not to her anyway. He says it into the empty console room and plans on slumping down onto the console room floor and not getting up until he utterly has too. Instead a ginger in a wedding dress appears and he gets on with life.

What else is there to do?

She haunts him. Rose Tyler is everywhere he looks. Her word burns into his skin. He fears the day it goes black. Will it even go black now? Worse yet he fears it fading.

Rose Tyler is in everything. She's in the stars, and the planets. She's in the people, and the kindness. She's in the empty space between everything. He wonders how he never noticed it before. He wonders if he'll loose that too.

Then, just because the universe can be kind, he sees her again. But the universe, while kind to some, is not kind to him. It never has been, and it probably never will be. Curse you universe, for all he has ever done for you, this is what you give him?

He gets a moment with his beloved. A moment with his destined, and then she is gone. This time he leaves her. He falls, just not into the void, instead away. He says goodbye to his bestfriend too.

He waits for the words to fade, for the words to vanish. They never do. He wonders if it's something to do with the universal walls. He doesn't want to find out. Part of him hopes he never does.

Part of him is desperate to prove he could get her back. He could change fixed points. So he changes one. The reapers don't come, but history is a little worse off. he waits then for his words to go, and even then they don't.

He has to see her again. Her face was the first he saw in this body, they have to be the last. He doesn't mean to speak to her, he really doesn't. He'd just put off regenerating for too long. Hours he'd spent, half dead, his body demanding to regenerate, visiting everyone he had ever travelled with. Even those he'd lost, he'd visited their graves, their monuments, them when they were younger and still so full of life. She had been his last stop.

The Doctor wasn't just putting it off for that though. There was something else, something terrifying him. Seeing all his old companions, some people he'd barely spent a day with just to push it, that was all a distraction from regeneration.

What if he really did regenerate without the soulmark this go round?

He couldn't bare the thought of it. Rose was part of him, part of her lingered in his soul, lingered in his hearts, in his mind. She was around every corner. She was everything to him, and he couldn't lose another piece of her. Not with her gone now.

Even now with new friends, with the mystery of River, with everything, the golden letters of Forever are still etched into his skin. Right on his hip. Unmoving.

Sometimes, it hurts too much. It aches and he wishes the word would just go already. It brings memories he's not sure he can take anymore. Not sure he deserves.

Sometime it isn't enough. Just the one word. Etched in her handwriting, scribbled on his hip. There isn't enough of Rose left and he despises it. He doesn't think he could do a blonde companion anymore. Even Rory is pushing it.

He hates it with every fibre of his being. And he clings on to it just as much.

Rory asks one day, about timelords and soulmates. The Doctor considers lying, saying that timelords didn't have soulmates. Or at least that it's very rare. He doesn't though, the voice of Rose that still follows his every decision reminds him of how much lying he's been doing, reminds him it's wrong for both him and his companions.

So he tells Rory the truth. Every fully sentient lifeform has a soulmate. He doesn't tell him about Rose though. He doesn't thin he could stomach it.

Rose is in every decision he makes. He'd be lying if he said he hated it. He needed it. Without Rose, well he didn't want to think about what he'd be without Rose.

His next regeneration he things he'll manage well. He'd put of plenty, kept Rose in his mind. Though over the years he'd gotten good at pushing her from the forefront of his mind.

He thought he could escape Rose Tyler. How stupid. Of course he couldn't. The golden letters still etched into his hip proof that. Their love is everlasting. He will never forget her.

Still, he had not expected to hear their love story floating among the stars. Their love is everlasting, it will outlive even him, the stories will live on. They will speak of him and Rose, and he will be thankful for every last one of them.

She haunts him still. A warning voice, a Rose Tyler worthy quip thought up by him instead. She is still around every corner and he wishes it didn't hurt so much, even now. Especially now, after so long.

Rose Tyler is still stitched into his very being. Her voice in his head, her kindness locked tightly into his hearts, her smile in his minds eye. She is everywhere. Maybe if he didn't use her soap it wouldn't be as bad. Still, he got on with it all. She haunted him, occasionally he'd say something that suggested he'd loved before, but he never spoke of her. Not even to Nardole.

To Be Continued, probably while sober, with 13, a little bit of 14, and the start of fifteen. When finished, full thing will be posted on AO3

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

TW: idiot fluff, I'm DRAAAAGGGGIIINNNGGGG this slowburn out til it kills us all, some heavy topics of abusers, past violence and assault, feelings of general anxiousness, as always language, mentions of drugs and drinking, a bit of Olive drama, teasing, conversations of past murder, Mav is just a whole TW in and of itself sometimes (but I love her), heavy topics, a fluffy kissing session or two, general fluff, having to work on Thanksgiving, Jennifer drama, some good ol found family content and a totally not foreboding end 🤭 Happy (late) Thanksgiving everyone! I hope y'all had an amazing day and some good food! Love y'all!

Chapter 22: Lemon Meringue

"Come out and face me, coward."

The words echoed in Anthony's mind like a discordant symphony. Howard had given the message to him all while whining and babbling like a child about the violence he'd endured. At first, Anthony had laughed. Leave it to the old drug dealer to rely on some spineless, worthless little puppet to deliver a threat. But, the longer he sat with it the more annoyed he got.

Coward. That word in particular left a foul taste in his mouth. Anthony Grosvenor was many things, but a coward? No. Absolutely not. 

He'd destroyed the crystal glassware on his table, leaving glittering chunks of it scattered along his floor. With a frustrated curse in French, he slicked his hair back and straightened his tie. Stepping over the mess Tony snapped his fingers and Jules followed. "Tell the maids to clean well today. I don't want a shard left on this floor."

"Of course, Sir."

"Now, remind me of our schedule." The two moved to the kitchen, where he gathered a new glass and bottle. "Nothing for this month, Sir. But, next, we have the party and-"

He waved his hand and poured himself a glass of the fine red. "Call Howard. Tell him to hang the thing in that horrid restaurant. And cancel the party."

Jules gave him a confused look. "Are you sure? You were very clear that you-"

"I know what I wanted, but that was then. And after this… poor attempt at a threat, it's obvious we'll need to be rid of that mutt before I can do what's necessary."

"Of course, Sir. We'll do whatever you require of us."

"Good," Tony sneered, examining the wine in his glass. Jules turned to carry out his orders no doubt. "And Jules," Tony added, causing the large man to turn, revealing his scarred, half-missing ear. "I want the dog gone. For good this time."

Jules smiled, "Understood, Sir."

Tony watched the red liquid swirl in his glass, reminiscent of the coming holiday. A holiday that should have been spent with Lena at his side behaving like he'd taught her to. Instead, she'd be at that diner with those people, her so-called family. 

He knew the truth of it though. He was her family. He was her everything. Lena could run and fight him for as long as she wanted, but that simple fact would never change. Anthony owned her, mind, body, and soul. She was branded by him, his adoration as well as his cruelty, and he was the only one who knew her for the monster she was. After all, he'd made her that way.

Lena would come home. Whether she came of her own volition or came dragged back by the hair she'd be at his side again. One way or another she always came back to him.

*

There was something so simple about moments of peaceful bliss. A simplicity that I knew was ever fleeting. It was a thing to be cherished, felt fully without reservation. So as the Irish folk music blared through the walls of my family's apartment I just smiled and buried my head in the crook of Jake's neck.

It had been a while since I'd woken up beside someone - or rather, a while since I'd gotten used to waking up with a particular someone. Waking up with Jake's arms around me was one of those precious moments I felt at peace. I clung to his warmth, content to lay there for the rest of the day, a feeling he seemed to share as he sleepily mumbled and pulled me closer into him.

My fingers idly traced the mermaid tail on his arm, drifting upwards to give the same attention to the words over his ribs. I smiled at the feeling of his breath shuddering beneath me, pursuing my lips to kiss the underside of his jaw. Outside my bedroom, my brothers clamored around, but I didn't mind their noise this morning, not when Jake was here.

He lifted a hand, catching the one that traced his tattoos and lacing our fingers together. "You're tickling me."

Humming softly I brushed my nose against his ear before tugging on it with my teeth. "Good morning."

"Mmmm," he groaned, turning and trapping me beneath him. Jake's lips sloppily pressed to my head, my cheeks, and my jaw before he finally cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. The soft tired kiss left me feeling breathless as he lifted his head and smiled down at me. "Morning."

There was an odd and overwhelming feeling of intimacy and vulnerability that filled my chest with the burning longing to stay in this bed with Jake forever. Safe, tucked away in a tiny corner of the world where I knew nothing could hurt me. While I'd come to accept my deep feelings for the bartender, the thought of having to voice such things made my tongue feel like iron in my mouth. It should be easy, I told myself as I looked up into Jake's pretty eyes. Should be… But wasn't.

A pang of guilt and shame and white-hot anger made my lungs burn as I reminded myself why it wasn't easy. Why I was so afraid to just admit to the man sharing my bed that I liked him - adored him - and wanted to at least try to be something more? Tony had ruined such simplicity for me. He'd all but destroyed the very possibility of me having the courage to tell anyone in my life that I loved them, especially in a romantic sense. It'd fucked up a lot of things early on and had been a large factor as to why I only had casual flings and not full-fledged relationships. Sam was the first one who had gotten close to anything real. 

"Why can't you just love me back?"

"It's not that simple, Sammy."

"Yes, it is. You either love me or you don't, Lena."

"Then I guess I don't."

My jaw clenched as I shoved it all back inside the overflowing box inside. I smiled at Jake, caressed his face, and breathed in his smell. I'm here. I'm safe. "So," I started with an awkward laugh. "Seems like we've got a lot to talk about."

He flopped onto his side with a smile. "Yeah, the rainchecks are starting to build up."

"They are," I agreed softly.

Jake looked at me for a minute, those eyes taking in my face with a tired sparkle of wonder and something more. He smiled, moving to sit up and stretch. "Come on, I owe you some shitty eggs."

I followed his lead, quietly tossing his pants to him, happy that he didn't seem interested in pushing what was left unsaid between us until we both popped. In the living room, my brothers tied their shoes and quietly talked amongst themselves before they smirked up at us. "Mornin."

"Hey," I greeted, rubbing the rest of the sleep from my eyes. "We were just about to make breakfast."

Patrick kissed my head as Peter finished tying his shoes. "No breakfast today."

"What?"

"We're taking the boy on a jog," he replied, slapping Jake on the shoulder.

The still-tired bartender made a face. "The fuck did I do to deserve that?"

My brothers howled with laughter. Peter stood up and kissed my cheek. "You stuck around, of course!"

Patrick ruffled Jake's messy hair. "Hurry downstairs and get changed, little brother. We're taking the scenic route today!"

Biting back a laugh I smugly grinned at him. "That means they're taking you the long way."

"Shut up," he huffed. "Horrible. All of you."

"Have fun!" I yelled after them, earning a middle finger from them all as they closed the door behind them.

Isaac emerged from Peter's room with a shy smile. He gestured toward the door. “Quinn and I are getting breakfast. You wanna come?”

"Sure curly," I replied, ruffling his hair.

I dressed in warm, casual clothes and linked arms with my brother's boyfriend as we walked along the busy sidewalk towards the only other diner in town Quinn would eat at. Isaac was thankfully back to his bright, cheery self. I'd missed his laughter and his exaggerated stories. Though his face still held the faint marks his monster left his heart hadn't been marred. Isaac remained the man he always was, kind and thoughtful and funny and I was grateful for it.

Lifting a finger to his cheek I prodded one of the faint marks. “Your face looks better than it did a few weeks ago.”

He sweetly smiled, scratched his head, and shrugged. “Guess I get to keep my status as prettiest cook at 22West.”

“Guess so,” I laughed. “Careful though, Santos is awfully pretty. I'd hate for you to lose your title.”

The two of us continued to tease each other as we sat down in the old booth and looked at the menus. Isaac looked around with furrowed brows. “Quinn must be running late.”

I hummed, following his lead and looking around the diner. “Maybe she overslept.”

Isaac nodded, but a look of uncertainty remained in his eyes. “Maybe.”

“Hey, she’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the table.

“How are you doing?” I asked, reaching over to take hold of his hand. “It’s been a minute since I asked.”

With that blinding smile of his, Isaac replied, “I’m doing good. Better than I have been in a while, but there’s still those days ya know?”

“I know.”

Squeezing my hand he drew in a deep breath. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Lena.”

“That’s what friends are for.” I smiled. “Besides, what kind of sister would I be if I let my brother's boyfriend suffer?”

The diner bell chimed as Quinn hurried through and wordlessly found our table. As she sat down, shedding her jacket and throwing it into the booth beside me I could see the tenseness in her shoulders and the set look on her face that she always got when some shit went down. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Isaac waved her off. “No worries. We ordered your usual for you.”

“Thanks.”

Conversation flowed as usual between Isaac and me, but Quinn seemed far away only joining us in speaking when we addressed her. When the curly-haired man excused himself to the bathroom I nudged her shoulder. “You okay?”

She blinked a few times, clearly being pulled from whatever thoughts were on her mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Quinn.”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s just… been a long morning.”

“Did something happen with you and Ari?”

Shaking her head she scoffed. “Course not. We’re solid.”

I tilted my head and forced her to hold my eyes. “Spill it, Q.”

“Lee, it’s seriously nothing.” She took a drink. “I’m a big girl, I’ve got it under control.”

“Fine,” I relented as the server came with our food. “Just remember if you need anything we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

*

Exercise wasn't anything new to Jake, especially not after the months of training with Patrick, but this was just torture. They jogged through the city streets for what felt like hours. Block after block the Harrow brothers just kept jogging. They made small talk here and there, but mostly just laughed at his struggle to keep the pace they'd set. So, when Nana's diner came into view Jake almost cried.

The three of them hurried through the door. Patrick patted Jake's back as he bent over gasping for air. "Don't pass out on us now, little brother."

"You two are sadists," he heaved in reply.

Peter waved down Nana as she emerged from behind the counter. "Can we get some water, Nana?"

She laughed and hurried off to get it for them as they moved through the diner toward the back booth. Jake's fatigue and slightly poor attitude faded at the sight of Dom already waiting. Seemed like the conversation that was promised wasn't gonna wait.

They sat in silence, everything fading until all that remained was the topic none of them wanted to bring up. Dom spoke first, "How is she this morning?"

"She seems alright," Peter answered. 

"So, you decided not to tell her?" Dom continued.

Jake swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "I don't want to lie to her but this… She should be the one to choose when she wants to talk about it."

The drug dealer nodded in approval. "Smart boy." He set his hands on the table with a sigh. "You have questions though."

"Don't we all?" Patrick sneered.

Peter jabbed him. "Don't start this again Pat."

"I just don't see why Dom's so keen on keeping us in the dark."

Jake turned to look at them, confused as to what they meant. "I made her a promise. One I ain't gonna break just cause you want me to."

Patrick sat back, the four of them going quiet as Nana approached. "Oh, my strong boys!" She pinched his cheek and smiled at everyone. "It is early today, I hope you're here because you are hungry."

"We're starving," Peter assured her.

"Good!" She clapped. "I make all your favorites!"

They watched her leave and when she disappeared Dom settled back and gestured to Jake. "Alright, tough guy, ask me."

Ask me. It sounded so simple, but this… It wasn't simple. Every question he had hung on the tip of his tongue. Who is he? How long did she have to go through that? How old was she? So many questions… But the one that came out first was this: "Why didn't you help her?"

Dom's jaw clenched and for a minute Jake thought he'd just fucked everything up. He expected Dom to hit him, to reach out and grab him, but he didn't. Dom just held his gaze and answered, "I didn't know how bad it was. Not til she told me. I…" He sighed, turning to look out the window for a moment. "I should have known. I should have done something sooner and that's something I'll have to live with."

Patrick bumped his shoulder as if to shake him from the startled punch-ready state. "Relax, little brother. We all asked that question first."

"Dom's heard it a lot by now," Peter added.

"Who knows?"

That seemed to make Patrick a bit angry. "You'll have to be more specific." His eyes drifted to Dom. "The question you ought to ask is who knows what?"

"Isaac and Prue know the least." Dom held Pat's glare. "They know the name and a very very vague summary of what went down. Peter, Patrick, and Oz know a bit more than that. Names, locations, durations, and a few other things she chose to share. Nana and Quinn know just a bit more than them, not a lot but enough."

Jake somehow felt more confused. How could they all know such varying degrees of the same information? "And you?"

Patrick scoffed. "Dom knows all of it. Every name, location, duration, and god damn detail."

Dom's eyes filled with guilt for a moment, but it faded quickly. "I know what she told me."

"And she just happened to tell you all of it."

"Patrick," Peter warned. "We're all on the same side here."

"Same side my ass." He shook his head. "I deserve to know what that motherfucker did to my sister so I can pay it forward whenever he slinks back to town."

Peter just sighed, looking tired. "Not even Dad knew all of it, Pat. She obviously doesn't want us to know."

Jake stared at his now half-empty glass of water, only half listening to the others as they quietly argued for a moment. He wanted to know everything and at the same time, he wanted to know nothing at all. "What's his name?"

Dom's head tilted slightly, a look of pride… Respect calming his features. "Anthony. But the fucker likes to be called Tony."

Anthony. He repeated the name about fifty times before his mouth opened again. "How long?"

"Three years."

Three years. In any other circumstance, he'd consider it a short amount of time. Three years of torture though… That was different, longer. "And were those three years filled with… That?"

Dom looked down. "That and worse."

Worse? Jake almost scoffed. What could possibly be worse than that? He would have asked, but the look in the eyes of Lena's brothers and Dom told him he probably didn't want to know… And that they likely wouldn't have told him even if he did. Anger replaced his curiosity. "Where is he now?"

"Around."

Patrick slammed his hand onto the table. "Dom I swear to god–"

"I'm taking care of it."

"That's what you always say," he argued. "And yet every time he comes back. So, enlighten us, how the fuck are you handling this?"

Peter, the logical and cool-headed older brother, seemed just as angry now. "I don't want a repeat of what happened after Dad died, Dom."

The drug dealer nodded, guilt once again making his lips cast downward. "It won't come to that."

"How do you know?" Peter wasn't giving up.

"That was different. He had leverage-"

"He always has leverage," Peter argued.

Patrick shook his head. "What I'm hearing is you don't have a goddamn clue what you're doing."

Dom's glare was deadly as he pointed to Patrick. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Jake decided to speak up and hopefully avoid a fight breaking out between the two. "Does he pop up often?"

"No," Peter answered while the other two continued their stare-down. "He left her alone for a few years after she got out for good. But, once our dad died he started showing up, causing trouble, and trying to get her to go back with him."

"That's underselling it a bit," Patrick scoffed. "Son of a bitch tries kidnapping her, threatening everyone she cares about, making her relapse. Fucker shot me the last time he came round."

Jake raised his brows in disbelief, staring at the redhead as he touched his arm. Peter rolled his eyes. "The bullet barely touched you."

"Still fuckin' stung."

Dom shook his head and continued. "I'm handling it. You morons just need to keep her out of it. Keep her happy."

Peter chuckled a bit. "Pretty tall order."

Patrick joined in. "She's a tough one to keep happy."

"Seems pretty easy to me," Jake said with a smug grin.

"Disgusting!" Peter hollered, glancing his way with a pointed look. "That's my sister."

Nana set the plates down in front of them with a smile. "It is so good to see my boys laughing together!" She stroked his hair lovingly and did the same to Dom's shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything else."

As Jake sat with the Harrow boys and the drug dealer inhaling their food, he felt a weight lift off his chest. Whatever guilt he felt slowly eased with the knowledge that he wasn't alone in this messy situation. He had the others to help keep him on the right track with Lena.

Maybe, just maybe he had a chance at doing whatever this was right. Maybe this time he wouldn't fuck it up.

*

Simone walked with her head high, taking in the lovely color of the leaves and enjoying the chilled breeze as she moved through the crowds of people. She wasn't a fan of the cold, but some days it had a usefulness in distracting her. No amount of cold, however, could distract her from the fast-approaching holiday.

Thanksgiving, a time of family and joy and food and laughter. A time to keep up appearances and keep people in line so as not to overstep or overreach. Simone hated Thanksgiving, as she did most holidays because it forced her to sit at a table with her parents and pretend there wasn't unspoken animosity between them. 

Her father was a drunk, not a violent one, but an absent one. He used holidays to fuel his addiction and spout off whatever nonsense his mind was filled with that particular holiday. It ruined the mood for everyone quickly. Her mother was timid and unimaginative. She married the first man that offered her the security she sought. She took no risks, had no adventures, and was - at least in Simone's mind - useless outside the role of wife. Her mother had settled and in turn, she'd inadvertently ruined Simone's one chance at happiness with Etienne.

In just a few days she'd pack a bag and drive to Cape Cod to endure the family dinner. It wouldn't be too bad, she reminded herself. Jake will certainly take some of the edge off. He was always in such a sour mood about going back home. Childishly he'd whine about not wanting to go - a few times he'd even tell her he wasn't going - but he'd always be there in the morning with his bags.

It was annoying in the way most repetitive things were, but if Simone was truly honest she enjoyed the back and forth. She enjoyed watching Jake fight and struggle against it only to give in to her. The sex was another plus. She'd sneak into his room once her parents had gone to bed and they'd share in a night of passion where his loyalty and love were confirmed as hers and hers alone. It reminded her of when they were younger, of the first times she'd gone to his room.

As she neared Jake's apartment she was bitterly reminded of their last trip to the Cape and how unfulfilled she was left. It still filled her with rage when she remembered the sight of that red-haired felon sitting across from Jake in that diner or when she'd had the nerve to share a cigarette with him and give her that look through the window. Hopefully, she didn't have to worry about that this time.

It wasn't hard to rattle the girl given her obvious insecurities where intimate relationships were involved. Implying her little get-together with Jake was more than just a simple meeting between friends had sent her into an obvious spiral of anxiety. She smiled to herself at the memory of her pretty little face losing its smile and adopting a wide-eyed look of terror. Simone had just been lucky enough to hear about their plans through a well-timed trip to the locker room. Ari's new fling was too loud for her own good when she'd called to spread the gossip of Jake and Lena's plans to her lover.

Simone opened Jake's apartment door without knocking, not caring if she caught him in the throws of passion with some girl or not. She didn't expect to find his apartment empty. Jake was a boy of habit. He slept in till noon and left his apartment a mess, yet his bed was neatly made and his place was tidy. She hummed curiously as she leafed through his mail and moved through his space in search of anything out of place.

A hiss drew her eyes to the floor where a hideous cat peeked out from behind his counter. "Why hello there," she cooed to the cat. "What are you doing here?"

The black, hairless thing lifted its body and hissed. Simone chuckled, Seems he finally found something as grumpy as him. She bent down and reached out toward it, earning a quick scratch to the back of her hand and another louder hiss before the creature scurried beneath Jake's bed. Its eyes glowed in the darkness as it watched her with discontent.

She examined the small cut with a scoff. "Unruly thing."

Simone picked Jake's discarded clothes up off the floor, taking them into the bathroom to place them in his hamper. A shirt sat on his counter, neatly folded beside a shopping bag. The lingerie inside made her frown with disappointment. Of course, he's wasting his money on little gifts for her. She huffed, looking at his shelves and tapping her fingers on his camera as she held it in her hands and turned it on to leaf through whatever little sights Jake had deemed important enough to dust off his useless little camera.

Her frown grew, and the sliver of assured importance in the bartender's life turned to a fire of bitter anger. Simone swallowed it, grabbed the shirt, and left the apartment, storing that anger hoping it'd prove useful to her - more useful than it had the last time.

*

Jake moved, weaving and dodging, stepping and striking like all of it was second nature - something he'd been doing his whole life. As I watched from the front counter I couldn't help but admire the beauty of him. His toned muscles glistened with sweat, flexing and relaxing in intervals. His messy hair was haphazardly slicked back but those stubborn strands still fell beautifully out of place around his face. The focus in his eyes, the pure confidence and determination they held… It was mesmerizing.

It felt like he'd been dancing in the ring with Zeke for hours, but realistically it'd only taken him four hits to win the practice match. Once Patrick declared the win Jake's demeanor relaxed and he quickly checked up on Zeke, who complimented his powerful strikes. Patrick stood next to him, giving him praise and pointers, but Jake's eyes drifted to me. That smirk and a wink was all it took to turn me into a blushing mess, one Peter saw.

My brother wiggled his eyebrows. "Not a word or I'll start talking about you and your boyfriend."

He held his hands up. "I was just gonna say you look good today."

"Sure you were." Glancing at the clock I turned toward the ring. "Hey, Tough Guy! Hit the showers or we're gonna be late!"

Rolling his eyes he caught the water bottle Pat tossed him and headed towards the locker room. Patrick hopped down and stood on the opposite side of the front counter, sipping his own water. He and Peter shared a look. "So…"

Pat swallowed. "You and the boy… What's going on there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you two official yet?" Peter clarified.

The nervous tension swelled in my gut again as I shrugged them off and moved to head up the stairs and get ready myself. "Gonna just ignore us?"

"Yep!" I answered.

In the quiet safety of my bedroom, I didn't let myself sit with the question. Nor did I let the answer sink in. Jake was Jake. I was me. That was it, that was all. Unpacking how badly I wanted it to be me and Jake or Jake and I… Well, that would just ruin it. I didn't want to lose what we'd spent all this time building. I didn't want to fuck it up.

Downstairs Jake was waiting for me by the door, dressed in his casual clothes and ready for the walk to work. We both ignored my brothers as they gushed over us and we walked together as if nothing had changed. But, we both felt it. We both knew the truth.

Everything had changed.

*

The second Jake walked through the kitchen door he was met with pure chaos. The kitchen was in disorderly work while the servers were sprinting around. Beside him, Lena whistled. "What the fuck?"

Scott's head shot up. "Finally! Get changed, we need all hands on deck, Red!"

"What's going on?"

"Howard's gone," Scott replied. "Just texted Will and I that he's taking some time off."

Jake hid his smirk, trying to picture just how fucked Howard's face looked after the beating he took. Serves him right. Lena sighed and scratched her head. "Fuck. Okay. I'll be right down."

“Sounds like tonight's gonna be great,” he said with a grin. Lena shot him a glance, a small smirk on her lips. “No Howard up everyone's ass.”

“And a dining room full of whiny guests and no manager. What could possibly go wrong?”

He shrugged off his jacket as they neared the top of the steps. “I thought you'd have more faith in Will's managerial skills.”

As if on cue the suited man bolted from the locker room, face tight with anxiety as he practically threw himself down the steps with a rushed, “Excuse me!”

Lena watched him go and sighed again. “Yep, we're fucked.”

Nudging her shoulder Jake kept walking. “Have some faith. He'll figure it out.”

“Never thought I'd hear you of all people chime in for Will.”

“Shut up.”

Their soft laughter died the second they walked through the locker room door. Simone stood, buttoning up her shirt and staring at them with hardened eyes and a stiff smile. Jake knew that look, that judgmental way she regarded him, and given what she'd said to Lena they were overdue for another one of those conversations he hated so much. Lena spoke first, “Good morning.”

Simone chuckled. “Good is hardly the word I'd use to describe the start of this day.”

“Howards gone,” Jake said. “I'd call that a pretty good start.”

She ignored his comment entirely and smoothed her fingers over the bandage on her hand. “I stopped by your apartment and met that unruly creature you've taken in.”

Quietly cursing himself Jake nodded, opening the locker and putting his jacket inside. “It takes him a little time to warm up to people.”

“It scratched me,” Simone said harshly. “Leave it for you to find an animal with just as sour a mood as you.” Checking her lipstick in the mirror she continued. “I won't be taking care of it when you get bored.”

“I don't expect you to take care of him,” Jake answered, rolling his eyes. “We both know you hate animals.”

Lena closed her locker door and quickly buttoned her cooking coat, clearly in a hurry to vacate the tense atmosphere that hovered around him and Simone. Turning to leave she stopped at the sound of Someone's voice, “Lena.” Simone reached into her locker and grabbed a neatly folded shirt from one of the shelves. With a step forward she smiled and held it out to her. “I believe this is yours. I took the liberty of washing it for you.”

God dammit. He resisted the urge to throw his head back into his locker as he watched Lena offer up a clearly strained smile as she took the shirt. “Thanks.” She handed it to him. “Put that in your locker for me?”

“Sure,” he answered.

“See you after service,” she said with a tiny hint of a real smile - a reassurance that Simone's overstepping gesture hadn't deterred her from whatever this was.

The quiet that settled after her steps faded from the stairwell was short-lived as Simone turned to him, smug and rageful all at once. “Well, how was she?”

Wincing he turned to her, holding up the shirt. “Why are you going through my things?”

"I was just tidying up," she replied with a soft laugh. "We both know what a slob you can be." Her eyes drifted to his locker as he placed Lena's shirt on a shelf. “The shirt was on your counter. I assumed it was hers and figured she'd want it back instead of it going to your trophy box.”

Jake had been angry with Simone many times over the years. The two of them had many ups and downs, but once the dust settled they always found a way to get through whatever it was creating a rift between them. His anger wasn't new, but the tiny sliver of restlessness was. Jake had been angry with Simone before, but never had he felt even a hint of wanting their strange dance to end. Until now.

With a sigh, Jake closed his locker and looked at her. “What did you say to Lena?”

“What-”

“You know what I'm talking about,” he cut off with a firm voice.

Simones's lips pursed, displeased at his tone. “I was just making small talk, Jake. Trying to get along like you wanted.”

“You insinuated our plans were a date to try and freak her out.” Shaking his head he let his anger simmer. “Look, I know it's been hard for you with Lena, but that doesn't mean you can't just be civil. If that's not something you wanna do, fine, then just do what you normally do with girls I start seeing and stay out of it. It's none of your business anyway.”

Finally, the blonde woman laughed. “You are my business. Or have you forgotten all that we went through?”

Jake shook his head. “That’s not fair.”

“I expect you to be selfish and angry Jake, that's who you are. And never once have I asked you to change. Yet here you are, asking me to stop taking care of you as it’s not who I am!” She huffed out a breath and glared at him. “I have sacrificed time and time again for you. You…” Tears built in her eyes. “You're all I have.”

“Simone-”

She held up her hand and placed it on his chest. “I'm sorry if I've caused issues in your personal life, Jake. I am. But, I will never stop looking out for you.”

“I'm not asking you to, I just… Cut Lena some slack. She's not Tess.”

Reluctantly, Simone nodded. The tears in her eyes vanished as she smiled at him. “Alright. If it's that important to you, fine. But, you… You'll still tell me if anything changes between you two, right?”

Jake nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know I will.”

“Good.” Simone turned, moving to join the chaos outside the locker room. "Oh," she suddenly said, pausing in the doorway. "I spoke to Howard about us taking Thanksgiving off to go home before this little disappearance of his."

Jake's smile fell and his jaw clenched painfully. "I don't-"

Simone sighed, biting back a bitter laugh. "You don't want to go. I know. Please, save me the speech."

“I’m not-”

"You're coming," she interrupted. As always in her mind this was not some request that he could just say no to, not some event he could skip. This was a command, the command that she always gave him and that he always followed. Her eyes softened again. "Please, no more fighting. I need you."

He turned away from her to the mirror to mess with his tie. "Fine, whatever."

"I'll text you later to remind you to pack."

*

The kitchen was a mad dash of bodies in the throws of preparation. The sounds of unsynchronised knives chopping and four conversations being loudly spoken over each other filled my ears as I tried to help in any way I could. Isaac gave me a wide-eyed look as he lifted a finger to slice across his neck in an unspoken “we're fucked” motion. I rolled my eyes at him and turned to help Scott with the sauces.

“Leave it to Howard to fuck us right before the holiday.” Angrily shaking his head and throwing his tasting spoon on the washing bin Scott wiped the sweat from his brows. “Thanks-fucking-giving of all ones.”

“We've got this, Chef,” I assured him. “Preps almost done and we're fully stocked on all the shit we need.”

Nodding his eyes drifted to Will as he slammed through the door, paced for a moment, and then returned to the lobby. “It’s not the kitchen I'm worried about, Red.”

Patting his shoulder I moved around the tables. “I'll go talk to him.”

Scott chuckled or scoffed. “Good luck!”

Will stood next to the hostess station, flipping through the guestbook and mumbling reminders to himself. Jake watched with a very noticeable grin as he prepped the bar. Though outwardly he appeared happy, there was a tenseness in his posture that made me wonder what was really on his mind. The list of possible irritants had grown large over the past few weeks. Still, I chose to lean into the more mirthful side of him. I shot him a look, leaning over to snag his rag. “Be nice!”

“I'm smiling,” he replied with an even wider grin. “That not nice enough for you?”

“You're smiling at someone else's expense.”

Pursing his lips to hide the smile Jake nodded. “No smiling. Got it.”

I tucked the rag into my pocket and rolled my eyes. “Ass.”

“Move Mr and Mrs Wilson to table ten and then move Mr. Kepner and his colleagues to table six,” Will hastily instructed the new hostess who stood beside him practically shaking as she made the notes in the guestbook.

“Will,” I called out, causing him to whip around with the gaze of a madman.

“What’s the problem?”

I set a hand on his arm and offered up a calming smile. “No problem, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m a mess. It’s just with Howard not here everything’s on me and I… I’m still technically in training. I’m not ready to run this place on my own!”

“Breathe,” I instructed. “You’ve got this, Will. Just treat it like any other night. Schmooze the guests, check in on everyone, and help the hostess if we get busy.”

“What if-”

“No, what if’s,” I insisted, straightening his tie. “You’ve got this.”

With a shaky breath, he nodded with me. “I’ve got this.”

I smiled, “Good. Now get to family meal and give us a good pep talk.”

“I can do that,” he whispered. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

The table was rowdy and filled with practically every server using the time to grill Will about the specifics of Howard’s sudden disappearance. Sasha filled his mouth with food and loudly proclaimed, “It’s probably syphilis.” 

Heather’s face scrunched up as she turned to Sasha. “Howard doesn’t have syphilis.”

“How do you know?” The Russian taunted.

Ari rolled her eyes. “He’s obviously ditching for the holiday.”

“Howard wouldn’t do that,” Heather defended again.

“He can’t hear you.”

“I know that.”

Sasha swallowed a gulp of wine and smirked. “He’s not going to fuck you either.”

Will finally cut through the noise with a loud clearing of his throat followed by a deep, commanding tone that made Sasha’s eyebrows shoot up. “It doesn’t matter why he’s gone. It changes nothing about our jobs. So, tonight goes like normal alright everyone?”

Sasha quickly saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Will!”

“You should talk like this all the time,” Ari purred. “It makes you sound so sexy!”

It was going to be a long night.

*

Why am I still bothering with this place? Olivia asked herself as she stood next to the bar and watched the dining room full of people. At first, it’d been a request Jennifer Glover had made to check in on her estranged daughter and it’d been something Olivia had been more than happy to do for her employer. She would do anything for Jennifer. But, then she’d gotten here and actually met this “golden child”, Lena, and her motivations shifted.

It was no secret that Olivia had the desire to win the Glover seal of approval - to prove that she was so much more than just another employee. So, it came as little surprise to her when she’d found herself working closely with Simone to try and expose Lena for what she truly was. Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Unworthy of her mother's love. It started small, too small. She’d wasted so much of her time following Simone’s advice at seducing Jake - a tactic that proved less fruitful and more hurtful than she’d expected. A shove down the stairs and some red hair dye later, though, Olivia had moved on to a more effective tactic.

“Olive,” Jake said. “More whisky.”

She acted like she didn’t hear him, continuing to stand beside the bar and look as bored as she could until Nicky repeated the request. Ignoring them seemed to do more than any of her other attempts. It slowed down service and annoyed them so she considered it a win. As she made her way to the wine cellar she caught Simone’s stare. After the glass incident, they’d stopped speaking. Simone was of the mind that she’d gone too far and was being reckless, but in Olivia’s opinion, Simone lacked the conviction to do what had to be done to see results. That was why she’d been so unsuccessful at severing the bond Lena had crafted with the bartender. And it would be the reason she remained unsuccessful.

In just an hour and a half Olive had managed to drop every plate she touched and slow service down enough that Will finally cut her. As she changed her phone chimed. Wonderful work tonight, dear. You’ll have that rebellious girl of mine fired before the months up. 

That’s why, She told herself with a smile. Jennifer needed her help and so, Olivia would suffer the dull and tedious work. She’d sacrifice her nights and whatever public opinion the workers would form and she’d do it all with a smile. For Jennifer. And for Anthony.

*

“Holy fuck,” Scott sighed stretching out his neck. “That was fucking horrible.”

I watched Santos finish sweeping up the last of the shattered plates and ruined food. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever had to refire seven entrees at once before.”

Scoffing he tossed a rag onto the table. “Stupid bitch was relentless tonight.”

“Well, at least it’s over now.”

“Til tomorrow.” The whole kitchen groaned. “Thanksgiving sucks ass.”

Isaac quickly chimed in, “No, no, no! Working on Thanksgiving sucks ass!”

Rags flew through the air as the whole kitchen booed him up the stairs. I followed the rowdy kitchen crew to the locker room and changed as the servers quickly joined us with equal complaints about their last tables. Jake followed soon after with Simone, the sliver of tenseness I’d noticed earlier now far more prominent not just in his posture but also in his face. Closing my locker, I chose to follow the majority of the cooks downstairs rather than wait for Simone to vacate his side. If he wanted to talk to me about it, he would later.

Nicky made my drink and slid it towards me, waiting until Jake returned from changing to go upstairs to change himself. Simone sat down by the edge of the bar, watching Jake pour her a glass of wine with a pleased smile and a quiet thanks. She sent me a chilled smile as she lifted the glass to her nose to inhale the scent. Whatever had Jake stressed had something to do with her, and that simple fact made my chest burn.

“Great service tonight you guys,” Will announced with a relieved smile.

Scott took a long drag of his cigarette. “Yeah, the seven refires was real fun.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Seriously guys, if we can just get through to tomorrow then we’ll be set until Howard gets back.”

Sasha raised his glass with a playful smirk. “Cheers to the ever-inspiring words of encouragement from our sweet Will! This will certainly be more than enough to get us through the coming hellish turkey day!”

"Speaking of the holiday," I started after the cheering and laughter had died down, "What are all of you guys doing?"

Heather blew out a puff of smoke. "I'm going to visit my family."

Scott nodded. "Same."

Nicky grinned, "I get to have dinner with the inlaws!" Oohs and ahhs echoed through the group. "Thrilling, I know."

"I am going to spend the night in my apartment, masturbating!" Sasha proclaimed with a wicked but sad grin.

Ari just rolled her eyes, but she eventually smiled. "I have a date with my crazy hot girlfriend."

"Nana's?" I asked.

"Yeah. Are you going too?"

I nodded, sliding my empty glass to Jake. "Oh, everyone is. It's Nana's favorite holiday. She loves getting the whole family together for dinner." 

Turning my head and opening my mouth to give Jake an official invite to my family's celebration, I wasn't able to make a sound before Simone cut in. "Jake and I are spending the holiday in Cape Cod with my family."

Anyone looking at Jake could see the sheer dread that followed the statement, but only I could see just how deep it went. His jaw clenched painfully tight, and the steady movements of his hands faltered. Those mischievous blue eyes filled with despair, anger, and fear in seconds. He didn't want to go. He really didn't want to fucking go. But he would because of Simone.

My anger burned hotter in my chest as I forced myself to smile and nod. "Well anyone that wants to come to Nana's is more than welcome to! She always has plenty of food."

The conversation progressed as it usually did, Sasha teased, Ari laughed, Heather flirted with the cook she was casually seeing and all seemed well. Simone set her glass on the bartop and put her coat on. “Goodnight everyone. Jake, try not to be late tomorrow and please pack this time.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied flippantly, not even turning to look at her.

She smiled again, disgustingly pleased at his defeated tone. Fucking bitch. As her dumb blonde head vanished out the door I shifted my focus back to the tight-faced bartender who avoided eye contact with everyone around him, me included. All my lingering thoughts and anxieties about the conversations we still needed to have and the things that had clearly changed between us faded away. Now all that mattered was finding a way to help him.

Scott slid his glass towards Jake. “We’re going for food, you in?”

“Sure,” he replied, turning to leave. “You guys go ahead. I’ve gotta grab my jacket.”

Ari rubbed my back. “Coming, Tiger?”

I stood up, following after Jake. “Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Of course, they need a quick fuck to work up their appetites,” Sasha teased, effectively dodging Heather’s slap. “What? We’re all thinking it?”

Upstairs Jake stared into his locker, holding his jacket in a tight grip, his back heaving up and down. It’d been a long time since I’d seen him like this. How dare she put him through this. “So…” I carefully broached. “You're going to The Cape?”

Jake sighed, restless and angry as he shoved his arms into the sleeves. “Looks that way.”

“Fuck The Cape.” I set a hand on his arm, luring his eyes to mine. “Fuck all of it unless it's what you want.”

“Simone-”

Fuck her too, I almost said. “Isn't you. What do you want?”

His jaw clenched as he shook his head and stretched his neck in that nervous way he did. “I… I don't know.”

Tugging on his arm I nodded to the door. “Come on.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jake sighed, still following me anyway.

“We’re not going to eat.”

“Then where are we-”

“No more questions,” I replied, pulling him out into the cold. “Just trust me.”

We walked in silence most of the way to the theater, but the second Jake saw the lights and the movie posters he seemed to stop resisting so much. As I looked up at him the weight in his eyes and shoulders seemed to lax. “What are we seeing?”

I shrugged, “No clue.”

The only two tickets they had left were for another horror movie, which I’d quickly declined, and some new romantic comedy that didn’t sound like something either of us would particularly enjoy. Jake didn’t seem to care though, and I assumed it was something that really didn’t matter to him. A distraction was a distraction, and that’s all he wanted right now. So, I grabbed the popcorn, he grabbed the drinks and we both found seats in the surprisingly full theater. It wasn’t quite the same as last time. Jake’s tension proved to be more difficult to ease than mine had, but I reached over and took hold of his hand and he accepted the small gesture. Squeezing my hand in his as he watched the screen in front of us with mild interest, I knew he was grateful for my small attempt to take his mind off Simone and The Cape and Thanksgiving and everything his mind refused to let him forget. 

After the movie had ended, we lingered in the alley next to the theater, sharing a cigarette. Fuck The Cape, I wanted to remind him again. Fuck that place that made us so miserable, I wanted to scream at him. Stay. Instead of pressuring him even more to defy the will of Simone I simply asked, “Did that help at all?”

“Kinda,” he replied. “This is just… complicated.”

“I understand.” Leaning back against the wall beside him I sighed, “Do you know what you’re gonna do yet?”

He shook his head. “No.”

I set my head against his arm. “No one’s going to blame you for going home, Jake.”

"Home is the past," he said, voice soft. He was angry and bitter as he stared ahead at the alley wall opposite us, but this tone was something new. Something that sounded like the voice of a lost boy, one desperate to break away from all that had hurt him while also trying not to disappoint those he'd deemed important.

Lifting my head I touched his cheek, gently letting my fingers smooth over his skin. "Home might be the past, but you can't run from that. You can't go back and change how things were. Ignore it... Try to forget it… It's only going to come back stronger, angrier." His eyes softened as he looked at me. "Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually." I sighed. "One we'll both have to face.”

Jake turned, looking down at me with a newfound brightness in his eyes. He breathed the last of the smoke out of his lungs and tossed the cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot. “Let’s go get drunk.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling at him. “You think that’ll help?”

“Can’t hurt to try,” he said, bumping into me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”

Rolling my eyes I pressed myself into his body, a light, teasing laugh bubbling up out of my chest. “Like this?”

He hummed, hands sliding up my back and squeezing my sides. “Yeah, like that.”

“Come on then,” I urged, leaning away from him. “Let’s go get hammered.”

Jake's fingers laced between mine, the warmth of his palm filling my own as we walked hand in hand toward Ozzy's. To the passersby, we probably looked like just another dumb-in-love couple and I was okay with that. I was happy with the thought and hopeful that it meant there was a chance for this… for us.

The group was already gathered around the bar when we arrived. As we got closer a familiar head of blonde hair and plain clothes that hid a well-toned body appeared in the center of our friends. Sam made jokes that everyone laughed at, showing off the charming personality that made everyone around him fall head over heels.

Quinn, who was already plastered, spotted us and quickly waved. “Look who decided to show up!”

Sam spread his arms out and smiled sheepishly. "You said you'd buy me a drink if I ditched the uniform."

"I did," I replied, moving from Jake's side to slide behind the bar. "What'll it be, just Sam?"

“Just beer,” he answered.

Chuckling at the memories of the way his face always scrunched up in disgust at every other drink he tried, I grabbed him a bottle. “Shoulda known. You never did enjoy anything else.”

Sam sat down across from me and shrugged. “Not for lack of trying. I think you made me every drink you knew.”

“Course she did,” Quinn said with a grin. “She liiikkkeeedd you!”

We both rolled our eyes at her, Sam’s face a little more red than before as he quietly sipped his beer. I lifted my head and found Jake standing a few feet away from the bar, the relaxation and playfulness I’d managed to pull out of him gone as he glared at the back of Sam’s head. With an easy smile, one meant to hopefully bring back what we’d spend hours in a shitty movie trying to reach, I nodded him over. “What’s your drink tonight, tough guy? I believe you were wanting to get wasted.”

He finally moved, standing at least a seat away from Sam and leaning against the bar. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Dangerous game,” I cautioned. “Giving a delinquent like me free reign over your drink.”

The smile was microscopic, but I still saw it. “I live for the thrill.”

“Alright, one mystery drink coming up.”

Quinn had slid between the dark-haired bartender and the light-haired cop, an evil grin plastered to her face as she regarded them both. “So, how’s life been treating you, Sam?”

Sam gulped. “Can’t complain.”

“I mean you could,” she urged. “I won’t tell a soul that the golden boy had a few tiffs with life.”

“I’m good, Quinny,” he insisted. “But thanks for asking.”

She turned to Jake, pinching his cheek. “And how's our resident grump?”

He slapped her hand away and glared at her. “Great.”

“Yikes! You seem extra grumpy tonight!” She giggled. “There a new stick up your ass or something?” Without a word, Jake pushed away from the bar and headed toward our usual booth. Quinn feigned a look of shock. “You think it was something I said?”

“Could you just not be a bitch for like two minutes?” I asked, shaking my head as I finished Jake and I’s drinks.

Quinn hummed. “I probably could, but it sounds pretty boring, so I’ll pass!”

Ari pulled on her arm, dragging her out of her seat and toward the dancing crowd. “Come on! I love this song!”

Will and Prue walked into the bar together, sitting down beside Sam. While Prue greeted the off-duty cop, Will set his head on the bar and sighed. “It was a pretty long night tonight, huh?”

“With Howard gone… yeah,” he answered.

“I’ll make you something strong,” I offered, getting Prue’s attention before asking, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m on Will duty.” She looked over at him and gently rubbed his back. “He’s having a rough week.”

The second I touched a glass Ozzy’s loud voice boomed over the bar. “Oi! You ain’t on bar duty tonight!”

I glanced at him with an innocent smile. “I’m just helping out Oz.”

“Not tonight you’re not!” He gestured to the two bartenders already working. “I’ve got two boys back here, let em get some work in will ya? Shoo!”

“Oz-”

“Shoo!” He repeated, ushering me out from behind the bar with a shake of his head. “Go have fun. Take a load off for once, love.”

“Alright, alright!” I reached over and grabbed Jake and my drinks. “Bossy much?”

The big man scoffed and pointed at me with that fatherly smirk of his. “I shouldn’t have to be bossin you to take some time to yourself.”

Dodging the crowd I made my way to the booth where Jake sulked by himself. Patrick, who’d spent all of two seconds by the table, gave me a look and mouthed He’s grumpy on his way past me. I set the drink in front of Jake. “One Mexican Firing Squad.” He gave me a look, one that I quickly shot down with a pointed reply, “You gave me creative freedom. This is on you.”

“Right. Next time remind me not to let you pick the drinks.”

“Scooch.” He sipped on his drink, refusing the move that rigid body of his as an act of defiance. Using the empty side of the booth I slid around to sit beside him and took a victorious drink of my cocktail. I let the tense silence roll over me for a minute before finally choosing to say something. “Quinn's got a point, you do seem extra grumpy all of a sudden.” Nudging his arm I asked, “What sticks up your ass now?”

Jake scoffed and quickly downed his drink, showcasing little regret afterward. “I'm just peachy.”

I gave him a look. “Come on, Jake.”

“Don't worry about it, Princess.” His eyes shifted to Sam, who’d joined my brothers at another table, and his face scrunched lightly in clear displeasure. “I'm fine.”

“Ahh,” I hummed in realization. A funny, prideful feeling made my chest feel warmer. “So it's not a stick up your ass, it's a baton.” Jake didn't bother replying. I sat back in the booth and looked down at my fingers. “Are you jealous of Sam?”

That got him talking. “I'm not jealous of some uptight asshole cop.”

Hiding my smirk behind my glass I shrugged. “Sam's hardly an asshole and he's not very uptight.”

“Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?”

“Yeah, I would.” Tilting my head to meet his eyes I quietly asked, “Is that a problem?”

With a sigh Jake shook his head, finally allowing himself to relax. “No. It's just… He's clearly still into you and…”

“And that makes you feel… Weird, given everything that's happened between us,” I finished.

“Yeah.” He looked at me, eyes finally softening. “I'm sorry if I'm being an ass.”

Smiling wide enough to reassure him I lifted a hand to stroke his cheek. “You're almost always an ass in some way. Guess I'm getting used to it.”

With a quiet laugh, he smiled. “Good to know.” Standing he grabbed both our glasses. “I'll get us refills.”

“Jake.” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. He turned and I lifted myself out of the seat to press my lips to his. His body leaned into mine, lips moving in harmony with my own without hesitation. When we pulled away from each other I smiled again, slightly nervous to voice the reassuring words that clung to my throat. “Whatever this is… You have my full attention.”

Though he chuckled, I could see that he felt better after I said it. “Do I?”

I settled back in my seat, cheeks red and chest warm and fuzzy. “Yep. Try not to let it go to your head.”

“Too late, Princess,” he announced. “You've got my ego all inflated now.”

“Damn,” I joked. “Guess I'll have to be meaner to you.”

“Lookin’ forward to it,” he replied with a wink as he turned and headed to the bar.

My face felt hotter as I stared down into my lap. I could only imagine just how red I looked and I was glad Quinn was too busy with Ari to make fun of me. It was just so easy with Jake. The warmth and the fuzziness that came with something new and exciting was now a persistent feeling. Every moment I spent with him I felt so… Happy. It was sickening. Then there was the unknown but very obvious feeling that made me want to hop onto his lap - as I had so many times before - take that pretty face in my hands and tell him he was mine.

Something glittering in the dancing crowd caught my eye, drawing attention to the familiar entourage of finely dressed men and one woman covered in expensive jewels and an easy smile. Mav. Fucking hell. I jumped out of the booth and made my way through the crowd as quickly and as gently as I could, trying to reach the bar and give everyone a warning before…

Mav's men hung back as she settled in beside Jake. Ozzy offered her a kind if not slightly tense greeting, “Mav, didn't expect to see you here tonight.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she replied in that sultry voice of hers as her rich amber eyes drifted to Jake. “So, this is him then? Your girls Jake?”

The two bartenders exchanged a look before Ozzy cleared his throat. “What can I get ya?”

Mav ignored him, lifting her finger to trace Jake's jaw as she grinned. "Oh he is cute, isn't he?"

I hurried forward with a loud proclamation, “MAV!” From across the room, Dom’s head shot up and he was on his feet in seconds. I tried to subtly place my body between hers and Jake's. It wasn’t so subtle, judging by the way she chuckled at me. “Long time no see. How's business?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Money, drugs, sex, booze, bar fights, the occasional murder,” she replied with a casual shrug as she turned her head to take a sip of the drink Oz had offered up. “I can't complain.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You're more than welcome to tag along one of these days.” Mav grinned over my shoulder at Jake. “I'll even let you bring your boy toy.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Thanks but no thanks. I'm not really doing that kinda stuff anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That's not what I heard.” Sliding her finger along the rim of her glass she chuckled. “You and Eddie paid one of my boys a visit not too long ago.”

“We did.”

“Fucked him up pretty bad.” Her voice was soft as silk as she smiled, baring her teeth. “I was impressed. You always did know just how to leave men a whimpering and sniffling shell.” 

“Mav I-”

She shushed me and with a long nail, she fixed my hair. “You get things done, Lena. I’ve always respected that.”

The only thing you could count on when it came to Mav was her unpredictability. And while I was confident that Mav liked me enough not to slit my throat I still chose to tread cautiously. “Do you know why I did it?”

“No. And I don't care. That boy…” She turned toward her men, her chestnut hair falling over her shoulder. “What's his name again?”

“Aaron.”

“Right,” she laughed. “Aaron. He was a huge fuck up. Wasted more of my time and money than any of my husbands. You did me a favor putting him in his place. So I came to extend my gratitude.”

Dom made his way through the crowd, eyeing her men for a minute before he stood there, staring at Mav's back. The soft look in his eyes held all the history between them. “That's awfully generous of you.”

Mav turned toward the sound of his voice, a real smile settling on her lips. “Well, well, if it isn't the junkyard king himself.” 

They looked each other up and down for a long moment. Jake leaned over my shoulder. “So… What's going on here?”

“I'll tell you later,” I whispered back.

“Mavis,” Dom said, taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Dominic,” she replied, watching with gleeful delight as he kissed her hand. “Always such a gentleman.”

With a shrug, the biker straightened his back. “If I were a gentleman I'd be buried next to your other husbands.”

“True,” she admitted with a laugh.

“So,” Dom started. “Is it business or pleasure tonight?”

“Business,” Mav said. “Always business.”

With a nod he settled in at the end of the bar, casually leaning on it as he watched her. “I'm all ears.”

“My business isn't with you.” Mav turned back towards me and extended one of her signature platinum cards to me.

“Mav I can't-”

She shushed me. “Take it, dear. As a thank you for fixing a problem for me.”

“I don't need your money.”

“Nonsense!” She insisted, waving me off. “Money offers people like us a lot of freedoms. Why do you think I got rid of those pesky husbands so quickly?”

"Haven't killed all your husbands," Dom said with a fond grin.

Mav returned the look, though it was harder to see in her. "There's still time."

“This is too much.”

“Lena,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Take the money. Have some fun. Buy your boy something special.” Winking at Jake over my shoulder she set the card on the bar next to me. “You've more than earned it.”

“Thank you, Mav.”

Standing she turned to Dom and jabbed his chest with her finger. “And you. Tell that moronic brother of yours to stay off my turf.”

Dom leaned down, pressing their bodies closer together. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“I mean it. Next time Eddie shows up uninvited he's going to lose some limbs.”

“Call if you need help chopping,” he replied with a laugh. “I'd love to get a few licks in.”

“Idiots, both of you.”

Dom watched her go with a look that made me feel squeamish. I grabbed the card and turned back to Jake and the others who'd gathered at the bar behind him. “Looks like drinks are on me for the next few months.”

Quinn clapped loudly, urging the group to cheer. Sasha lifted his glass and loudly yelled, “TIGER BITCH!”

“Tiger Bitch!” Everyone joined in.

Ozzy took the card and shook his head. “I disapprove of your involvement.”

“Buuuttt…”

“I'm not going to turn down Mav's money.” He tucked the card away. “I'm no fool.”

Jake leaned on the bar next to me with a curious grin. “So, what's the story there?”

“Mav is Dom's ex-wife.” Glancing over at the biker I shook my head before loudly announcing, “And there's clearly some lingering sexual tension.”

He glared at me. Nodding toward Jake he answered, “You sure you wanna go there, kid?”

Holding my hands up in defeat I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought.”

Turning back to Jake I shrugged. “She's relentless and kind of terrifying, but she likes me so it's alright.”

He laughed and accepted another drink from Oz. “You and your gangsters. So, how much money was on that card?”

“At least ten grand.”

Jake spit his drink out and coughed. “Are you serious?”

Nodding, I smirked. “Me and my gangsters.”

Oz tossed him a bar rag. “Oi, clean that up.”

“Sorry Oz,” he replied, wiping up his mess.

Sam set his empty bottle on the bar and thanked Ozzy when he took it. “Sooo, I just ran into Mav on her way out. You, uh, spending time with her again?”

I shook my head. “No, I just…” As I looked up into his eyes I could see the cringe settle on his face. He was begging me not to say something incriminating, so I chuckled and finished with, “Walked her dog.”

The cop in him saw straight through the lie, but the friend in him just laughed. “That’s what you’re sticking with?”

“She has three big dogs,” I argued. “I could have walked one!”

“When have you ever walked her dogs?”

My mouth hung open as my brain desperately tried to conjure up any instance where I’d done more than pet her dogs. “When… She… I… Shut up!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jake grab another drink and down it just as quickly as he had the first. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t the best idea to encourage. Before I could offer him any kind of reassurance Patrick hollered from their table, “Jake!”

The second he moved from my side I sighed, watching him sit down beside my brothers and talk. Sam glanced that way and smiled. “It’s nice to see those two haven’t lost their tendency to adopt your… friends.”

“Yeah. They always seem to find the guys I bring home so interesting.”

“In their defense. You do have an interesting taste in men.” He gestured to himself, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean just look at me! Suburban good boy with the dream to become a cop!”

I laughed. “You are very interesting, Sammy.”

“And handsome,” he added.

“That too.”

Sam’s eyes returned to that table. “So… It seems like Jake makes you happy. I’m glad you found him.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “Me too.”

All at once the memories of Sam and I came flooding my brain. We’d had a lot of good times, a lot of passion, and more vulnerability than I’d ever been able to muster up at the time. On paper, Sam was everything I could have wanted. Good, kind, gentle, strong, smart and funny. My dads and brothers and friends all loved him. It should have worked. Should have, but didn’t. And it didn’t because of me. After a long, still silence, I quietly admitted, "I've been thinking about a lot of stuff recently. About that fight we had."

Sam shook his head, his smile only faltering a little. "Don't, Lena."

I looked at him long and hard, the man who could've given me everything I'd wanted at the time. "I'm sorry for being so horrible to you."

"You were hardly horrible, Lee."

"I was a bitch."

With a sigh, he turned fully toward me. "Do you remember what I said to you?"

"You wanted to know why-"

"After that."

My jaw clenched as I nodded. "I do."

"Then I guess I don't." The words burnt me from the inside out, venomous and ugly… A reflection of myself.

Sam looked sad… Heartbroken maybe, but he still smiled at me. "That's okay."

Liar, I'd wanted to say. But, Sam just sighed and stepped closer. "It's okay if you don't love me back, Lee. It's okay if you don't want this to be anything more than some fun casual thing. I just… I wanted us to be on the same page so I don't go sayin something stupid again and making you upset."

"Get out."

"Lena-"

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stepped away from him. Hideous emotions spurring life inside my chest. Angry wounds urging me to hit him, to scream at him and destroy everything we ever had. A monster lurking over my shoulder with a taunting whisper, "I'm the only one that could ever love you."

"Get out," I repeated. "Please, Sam."

Sam's reassuring hand on my own pulled me from that dark memory. "I love you, Lena."

My throat felt tight as I stared up at him, longing to return the words but unable to. "I know."

"I love you," he repeated with a smile. "In whatever way you need me to."

"I'm sorry." Sorry, I can't say it back. Sorry, I couldn't keep myself from hurting you. "For all of it."

His smile was blinding as he squeezed my hand. "I'm not. So it didn't work out in the end, big deal. We still had some fun, didn't we?"

I smiled too, the fond memories of Sam gently soothing the heavy weight in my chest. "Yeah, we did."

"And, we turned out to be pretty good friends, right?"

"Perfect friends."

Clearing his throat, Sam checked his watch. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’m working tomorrow morning.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He squeezed me tight and chuckled. “I won’t be. I’ll just remember to leave the uniform at home.”

“Good idea. Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, Lee.” He stood and waved at everyone else. “See you around.”

“See you around, Sammy.”

*

Jake had vacated the Harrow brothers’ table shortly after they’d waved him over for Patrick’s rundown of his schedule after Thanksgiving. “You’ll need to get in some solid reps after having Nana’s food,” Patrick had said with a loud laugh. 

The fact that he’d just assumed, expected, Jake to be attending their family celebrations only made Simone’s plans for him sting worse. He wanted to go to Nana’s - wanted to spend the day surrounded by the loud Harrow gang’s chaos. He wanted to leave full and happy, smelling like meat and curry. There was nothing Jake wanted more in the world than to spend just one holiday in a place where he felt he belonged. 

He’d excused himself and walked outside to the front of Ozzy’s bar, just breathing in the fresh air and wallowing in his self-pity. How many years had it been that he’d followed Simone back to the fucking Cape every holiday? How many years had Jake spent miserable and stuck so far in the past that he felt like he was drowning? 

“Home is the past.” He still remembered the night Tess had said those words to him. At the time it wasn’t about her saying them, it was the feeling he felt hearing it. Jake had kissed her that night and had made plans with her that deep down he knew he wouldn't be able to keep but all of that had been less about Tess and more about those four simple words.  Home is the past. 

"Home is the past, but it's a past you'll need to face eventually. One we'll both have to face.” Lena was right. He’d spent every year getting dragged back, every single year for as long as he could remember, running from The Cape… home… until that word held nothing but dread and anger and pain.

Home, he thought to himself, letting his eyes drift closed - letting the word sit in his mind for a moment. Home. It wasn’t Cape Cod his brain associated with the thought of a home. It wasn’t Simone or the restaurant or even his apartment. It was red hair glowing in the setting sun, loud laughter, and a crinkling freckled nose. It was soft touches, dancing, making drinks. It was late-night walks, kisses on the Ferris wheel, and that addictive tightness in his gut that made everything in him feel more alive every second he spent by her side. Home was waking up to Lena’s green eyes and her tired smile. Home was her.

Whatever this was between them, this unnamed thing, this thing they both seemed so afraid of… it was everything. Jake opened his eyes and the name for it was right there, sitting in his mind like Hemingway curled up on one of his chairs. This was something he never thought it could be, yet the one thing that now seemed so obvious.

Forcing himself to let the word go, Jake turned back to the door and walked down the steps into the bar. Lena had hopped back behind the bar, helping serve drinks as Ozzy shook his head from the office door, insisting that she go have fun. He could practically hear her sassy, “This is fun” from there. The blonde cop carefully made his way out of the crowd of people and smiled at him, stopping to wave. “Hey, Jake. You heading out?”

“No,” he answered. “Just needed some air.”

He nodded and turned to look back at the bar. “I get that. Bars aren’t really my scene either.”

Course they aren’t, he thought to himself. A goody two shoes like Officer Mayfield wouldn’t find bars appealing. He didn’t harbor the same sadness or anger that most people did. He didn’t really get the reason why bars like this were so popular and it made Jake feel like he did around Will. Inadequate. Pathetic. Broken.

"You're lucky," Sam said after a moment of stiff silence.

Jake bit back a bitter laugh. "Am I?"

The officer nodded, eyes never leaving the bar. "She's incredible."

His eyes shifted, following the blondes until Lena filled his vision again. "Yeah, she is."

Once again the man beside him smiled. "She's different with you… Open and happy. You're lucky, not a lot of people get to see that side of her."

Lucky. It was one of Jake's least favorite words. After all that had happened to him, all he'd been forced to find a way to survive luck was just another thing he never had. Yet, standing in the booming bar, surrounded by friends, he had to agree with Officer Mayfield. Lena met his gaze and smiled, pouring a drink as she winked at him. He was lucky. Maybe for the first time in his life.

Sam gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Don't fuck it up. There isn't another girl out there like her, trust me."

Against his better judgment Jake nodded, "If there is, I'm sure you'll find her."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "See you around, Jake."

"See you around, Officer Mayfield."

"Please," the man said with a chuckle. "Call me Sam."

“Alright… Sam.”

After a few more drinks and a few more hours of listening to rowdy bar conversations, while being completely distracted by Lena, the night was over. Quinn and Ari went back to her hotel, Prue and Will went back to his apartment and everyone else slowly filtered out until it was just him and the Harrows. Lena rested her head on the top of the bar, lazily sloshing the remainder of her drink around in her glass with a tired look in her eyes. Patrick helped Ozzy close the bar down while Peter closed the bar down and Oz handled some paperwork. 

It was organized, methodical, and something he found peaceful. Lena looked at him and smiled. “Well, did drinking make you feel better?”

He shrugged. “Neither of us got nearly fucked up enough. You didn’t even drunkenly grope me.”

Clicking her tongue she lightly tapped him with her foot. “There, consider yourself groped.”

Patrick made a face. “Could you two please wait until I’m out of earshot to do that?”

“Well,” Lena said, choosing to ignore her brother. “You’re welcome to stay with us tonight.”

“I should go back to my place,” Jake admitted. “I gotta feed the cat or he’ll tear my sheets to shreds.”

“That would be a shame. Your sheets are amazing.” She sat up, stretching her limbs for a second before finding her footing. “I’ll walk you out.”

Jake followed her, giving the rest of them a short farewell before they stepped out into the cold night. Lena shivered and without a second thought, Jake slid off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He watched, smiling like an idiot, as she did a little dance and happily shoved her arms through the openings. 

They walked up the road a few feet before stopping. Everything he realized, everything he felt, pulsed through him like an ocean current as he looked at her yet he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them. Luckily, Lena seemed to have found some courage in one of the glasses she’d drank that night. “So, I… I know we have a lot to discuss about…” She awkwardly gestured between them. “Us. And I know that with everything going on, there hasn’t really been a good time to… you know, talk.”

“We don’t have to do this right now.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I just… I guess I want you to know that I meant it.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, a subconscious movement to cover up the way his heart stuttered. “Meant what?”

She stepped closer and smiled, her green eyes sparkled beneath the city lights. “You have my full attention, Jake. I… I don’t know what this is or what we’re doing but… I like it. I like you.” Lena slowly lifted herself up to press her lips to his just like she had in the bar. And just like that, everything else didn’t matter. Once she pulled away a blush settled on her cheeks.  “So, yeah… I just wanted you to know that.”

For the first time that night, Jake truly smiled. His hands cupped her cheeks and he kissed her again. “You’ve got my full attention too, Princess.”

“Give Hemingway a hug for me,” she said, alcohol-ridden breath fanning across his lips. He opened his mouth to tease her about calling him by the name she insisted didn’t fit, but Lena quickly slapped his arm. “Don’t say it!”

“Alright,” he said smugly. “I’ll save it for later.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, Lena.”

That night, with Hemingway curled up by his feet Jake stared at his empty suitcase and the text message Simone had sent him about the time she wanted him to be at her apartment for their trip. He didn’t want to go to Cape Cod. He wanted to go to dinner with Lena’s family, to laugh and joke and eat until he couldn’t move. Jake wanted to stay home. And he would. This time he’d stay.

*

Thanksgiving morning was always interesting at the Harrow house. When our dad was alive he’d spend all day in the kitchen prepping his famous turkey for the journey to Nana’s diner. In the years that followed his death, Peter had taken his place, spending hours upon hours slow-cooking the damn bird. The first year it was blackened and completely inedible. The years that followed he got progressively better until he was unable to cook at all due to his cancer. Nana and Abdul covered the turkey for a while, but now Pete was back and he was determined to perfect the bird this year.

So, I woke to the smell of cooking meat and the blaring of Pat’s music. I ate breakfast with my brothers and gave Peter some tips for his bird and then I was off to work. Scott had asked that all the kitchen crew show up early so we could get ahead of the night before it took any turns for the worst. Will had made a similar request, one everyone had scoffed at and would likely ignore.

The walk that morning was peaceful. Stores put up their black Friday signs and everyone on the streets had a nicer demeanor than they usually did, a phenomenon that was strictly reserved for the holidays and even then this was still New York City. 22West had decorated the stairs with a garland of fall leaves and the door with a wreath, but other than that it remained the same at Aunt Maddie’s insistence no doubt.

My heart dropped into my stomach as I walked through the front door and saw just Nicky behind the bar greeting me with a smile. “Morning, Red.”

“Morning,” I answered, just as another man, older and definitely not my grumpy bartender, returned from the kitchen with a pallet of glasses. Finding the strength to move my feet and smile through the hellish pain that now stabbed my chest I extended a hand to the unknown face I said, “I don't think we've met before.”

The man shook my hand with a relieved chuckle, “Names Sam. I'm the one they call when they run outta options.”

“I'm sure they call you because you're good at your job, Sam. I'm Lena.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You look familiar.”

“We've probably seen each other in passing at some point,” I replied. “I’ve been around for a while.”

“You're Maddie's niece!” Snapping his fingers he laughed. “Oh, last time I saw you, you were only ye big.” He lifted a hand to his stomach, showcasing the size he spoke of.

Awkwardly laughing I shrugged. “Sounds like me. Well, it was nice meeting you, or seeing you again I guess.”

The old man Sam chuckled and returned to his work. “You too.”

Scott was barking orders when I entered the kitchen and headed for the stairs. The locker room was uncharacteristically quiet as I changed. No Sasha to make his crude jokes, no Ari to laugh at them, no Heather to chide them both… No Jake to make me feel warm and fuzzy. I bitterly swallowed a lump in my throat as I found myself wanting to cry. Pull it together, Lena. This was his decision, I reminded myself. It was his choice. And then, the steady thoughts shifted to the truth of what I felt. But he didn’t choose me. My fingers deftly buttoned up my chef's coat as I shook my head. Nope. We’re not doing that. I wouldn’t let myself resent his choice to go with Simone. I wouldn’t let myself turn into her, not even for one fraction of a second.

Closing my locker I headed downstairs and jumped into work, burying myself in it. Burying everything I felt, everything I wanted to feel beneath the sauces and spices and chopping of meat and vegetables. Nothing else mattered, nothing but the food in front of me. And for a while that worked. Then, service started and everything went to shit.

Sasha barreled through the kitchen doors and set his plate down on the table with a loud clack. “Table fourteen says this is overcooked.”

“Like hell it is!” Scott argued, rushing over to inspect it. “God damn rich assholes. Refire on fourteen.”

Heather followed after, setting down two soups. “Table five says the soups are cold.”

A vein in Scott’s neck looked seconds away from bursting. “Who are they, fuckin Neely? Refire two soups!”

Ari came in hot on Heather’s heels. “Table twelve wants two more entrees.”

Scott wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “Fucking Thanksgiving.”

“Lena!” Will hollered, rushing up from the wine cellar. “We’re getting fucked out there, would you please hop on and help us?”

I glanced at Scott, who reluctantly nodded, and stripped myself of my coat. “Sure thing, boss.”

From that point on whatever needed done, I was on top of it. Bar restocks, serving, scouring the wine cellar, dishes, all of it was my wheelhouse tonight. And again, for a while that worked. It took my mind off of Jake and Simone and the fucking Cape. It took my mind off of everything else because all that mattered at the moment was the work. And then, just like before, it all went to shit.

I helped Santos scrub the last of the dishes before Ari tapped my shoulder and gave me a weird look. “Uh, table four is requesting you.”

“What?”

She gulped. “It’s… It’s your mom.”

Fuck. I sighed and dried my hands off. “Of course it is.”

Sure enough, there she was, sitting in the center of the lobby with a gleaming smile on her face. I straightened my shoulders and walked out toward her with a blank expression. She wasn’t gonna fucking win. Not tonight. Not if I could help it. “Good afternoon, maam. What can I get for you tonight?”

Jennifer laughed. “Come now, darling. I think we can drop the formalities.”

“Fine. Tell me what the fastest way to get you out of here is.”

“I’ll have the special and a bottle of your finest red. After that, a conversation.” She grinned again. “Quite reasonable, isn’t it?”

I turned on my heel and took her order to the kitchen before spending far too long in the cellar, picking out the shittiest wine I could find before returning to her table. She sent the food back, of course, and spilled her wine and made the night an absolute horror. While all the other guests began to funnel out, Jennifer remained until I finally snapped. “What do you fucking want?”

“Some appreciation,” she bit back. “For once in your goddamn life, could you just be grateful for all that I’ve done for you?”

Though it didn’t make the situation easier, it certainly made me feel better to laugh in her face. “You didn’t give me shit.”

"I made you strong," she said with a proud raise of her head.

"No, you didn't," I replied coldly. "You almost destroyed me. You gave me nightmares. You made me feel so inferior I got addicted to drugs trying to earn your love. You sold me… groomed me to be his. He may have been the one that almost killed me, but you were the one that pulled the strings and I hate you for it." Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I held her stare. "I hate you. I will always hate you. No matter how many times you show up and insert yourself into my life that will never fucking change."

Jennifer sneered, “I am your mother.”

Shaking my head I replied, “No. My mother was a teacher and a painter. She took care of me, taught me, protected me more than you ever did.” Her lips thinned as she glared at me, clearly displeased I'd brought up Rada. “My mother died trying to protect me. She's gone and still, I love her more than I've ever loved you.”

“You ungrateful little-”

I set the check on her table. “Pay and get the fuck out.”

As I walked away I could hear her huffing and puffing, but in the end I’d won. By the time I’d come back she was gone. Closing everything down for the night took longer than usual, but once we’d all finished and changed we parted ways with relieved smiles. Sasha and Ari walked with me to Nana’s. It was a beautiful sight, her large window painted with a big cartoon turkey and my family inside setting the huge line of tables they’d pulled together to make enough room. As much as I felt relieved, happy, that I was here with them I couldn’t quite shake the anger and the hurt that Jennifer’s visit had brought me. She served as a reminder of those three years I spent away from my family, and I fucking hated it. 

“How was work?” Abdul asked from behind the counter as we all funneled in.

I reached over the counter and grabbed one of the beers from the cooler, popping it open and practically chugging it before answering with a hoarse, “Just great.”

Nodding he gestured to the back. “I'll grab the tequila.”

“Thanks, Pop Pop.”

“There you all are!” Nana cheered, greeting us with hugs and kisses as she searched the crowd with her eyes. “Happy Thanksgiving my dears!”

Sasha and Ari spared me a look as I took another swig of my drink. They quickly began mumbling thank yous and holiday wishes. “Yep, Happy Thanks-fucking-giving.”

She frowned, swatting my arm with one of her magazines. “Language, Lena!”

“Sorry,” I said, hoping the word would somehow help alleviate how shitty I felt about my mothers’ appearance tonight, and about how I knew that Jake was miserable.

Nana sighed and stroked my cheek. “Smile, Habibi. Today is a day for thanks and for happiness. We are all together, that is what matters, yes?”

Not all of us… “Yeah.”

“Good,” she said, turning around to holler toward the kitchen. “Hurry with the food boys, our guests are getting hungry!”

The kitchen door opened and Abdul led Patrick and Peter out with hands filled with various meats and side dishes that all looked and smelt amazing. A foot caught the door just before it closed and a sarcastic, familiar voice, called out. “Thanks for holding the door, dickhead.”

Nana turned, quick as a whip. “Jake! Language!”

My heart stopped. Jake. The dark-haired bartender stepped out of the kitchen with a roguish grin. “Sorry Nana.” He bent down a kissed her cheek, moving to follow Patrick to the tables when his eyes met mine. Beneath his unwavering gaze, I felt tears start to build in my eyes as the relief of seeing him… Of him being here soothed the ache in my chest.

Sasha threw an arm around my shoulder and wagged a finger in his face. "Jakey! We weren't expecting to see your grumpy face tonight!"

Ari settled in her seat next to Quinn and smiled. "Yeah, what happened to going to The Cape?"

His eyes never left mine as he shrugged and answered simply, "Fuck The Cape."

I smiled, a light laugh escaping from my tight throat as I shook my head, reaching out to take one of the plates from him. "Here, let me help you."

“Thanks, Princess.”

The noise of my family was loud as ever, but all I seemed to be able to hear was Jake. Everything he said, every move he made, I was perfectly honed into him… Half expecting this to be a dream. We sat next to each other as Nana and Abdul said their prayers and thanked everyone for coming. Peter stood, unveiling the perfectly cooked turkey and eating up the oos and aahs that filled the diner. “Finally an edible turkey!”

Katie jabbed Patrick in the ribs. “Be nice!”

“I’m always nice,” my brother insisted leaning in to give her a big, wet kiss.

Isaac kissed Peter as he sat back down. “It looks amazing babe!”

Jake’s hand slid onto my knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes stayed focused ahead as he complemented the food, “Everything looks amazing.”

Nana smiled from across the table. “Thank you for coming so early to help, sweet Jake.”

“Yeah, thank’s sweet Jake,” Patrick taunted.

“How long have you been here?” I asked, looking up at him, still shocked.

“He showed up this morning,” Nana replied. “Knocked on our door like a polite gentleman and asked what we needed.”

Abdul laughed. “Poor boys been worked half to death!”

Jake smiled and shrugged, looking a bit awkward as he insisted, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“We even made his favorite dessert,” Nana proudly leaned over to lift a pie into the air. “Lemon meringue.”

He came this morning… That meant… Jake had chosen to stay. He’d chosen not to go with Simone and to come here instead. I forced myself to act normally as we all dished up and stuffed our mouths with delicious food, but nothing could contain my smile and the surge of joy that filled me. Jake had stayed. He chose me.

The night was filled with laughter and dancing and drinking and more food than any of us could even attempt to finish. When we’d all had our fill and packed ourselves leftovers, Nana and Abdul gathered help from Dom and the bikers to deliver the rest to those in need. I stood outside and watched the lot carefully pack the boxes onto their bikes when Jake walked out and stood beside me. “It’s pretty cool they donate some of the food.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Nana and Abdul are kind of the best.”

“They really are.”

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I finally whispered looking up at the faint stars in the sky. "It was… A rough day."

"Yeah, I heard." Glancing at him he shrugged. "Sasha's a gossip."

I nodded, picking at my fingers. "Right, shoulda known."

"I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but… I'm proud of you for standing up to her." He bumped me with his shoulder. "Wish I coulda been there to see it."

Without even meaning to, the words slipped out, “I thought you went home.”

Jake’s eyes stayed glued to mine as he answered, “I did.”

My eyes filled with tears again, ones I quickly blinked away as I lifted myself to kiss him. The cold air sent goosebumps rising on my arms, but as Jake cradled my face in his hands and kissed me back with equal passion and fervor, I’d never felt warmer.

*

"Anthony," she breathed out with a fresh smile as she entered the empty restaurant. "It's so good to see you again!"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt like the most important girl in the world. Anthony lounged in the chair and replied with equal enthusiasm, "It's good to see you too, Olivia." Reaching out, he brushed her hair out of her face, eyes lighting up with that mirthful glow. “I love what you've done with your hair.”

“Thank you.” She settled in beside him and blushed. “I was surprised when Jen told me you wanted to have dinner together.”

“Why?” He questioned. “You’re a beautiful and fascinating woman, Olivia. Any man, myself included, would be blessed to be in your company.”

She blushed and shook her head, looking around the restaurant that she hated so much. “Why here?”

Anthony shrugged, taking a modest sip of his wine. “Because we can.”

"Did you need help with something?" She asked, changing the subject in an attempt to ground herself.

"As a matter of fact I do," he replied, carefully turning the book on the table towards her. "I need you to tell me everything you know about this woman."

Olivia's brows furrowed as she examined the drawing on the page. "Simone?"

Anthony nodded encouragingly. "An associate of mine has been in some contact with her, but he's having some… Difficulty. Jennifer assured me you would be able to help."

"Of course!" She cheered. "Anything for you!"

Tapping the page with his finger he grinned again. "Good. Now, tell me about this Simone."

They spent the whole night talking. It was mostly about Simone, but Olivia didn’t mind. As long as she could talk to him, to hear that amazingly soothing voice of his, she was perfectly happy. Food was served and, to her at least, a good time was had before Howard approached the table. His face was bruised and swollen and clearly unhappy as he moved to the side, gesturing with his hand to a painting on the wall behind him. “Does this satisfy your request?”

Anthony tilted his head, truly examining the piece before he smiled. “It does.”

Oliva’s eyes devoured the unique-looking thing, admiring the bright colors and the almost violence the art radiated. She was about to comment on his taste in art when she noticed the tiny scribbled name in the corner. 

Lena.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Sometimes, it's the little nonsensical annoyances...

There are definitely more important things than this going on, and I'm not going to do much good by pointing it out, but I might as well express the thoughts so I can try to lay them to rest.

This:

...is absurd. Some Taiwanese venture capitalist asshole was annoyed that some white business assholes in Quebec are remixing boba tea, which he loves, and is his culture, and cannot be improved without due deference to its originators. To address his grievance, perhaps he'd like to fund some more authentic boba tea, made by the folks in the image above.

Depending on their personal behaviour and business practices, which I am not aware of, I wish all the boba tea makers the best. I love boba tea and NO, MORE BOBA TEA PLACES WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE THAN I HAVE FINGERS IS NOT ENOUGH. I NEED MORE!

Fuck, I want boba tea.

But I digress. To experience offence in this particular fashion over this particular item, you need to stop learning and switch off your brain at the point where Taiwan invented the boba tea. Where did the tea and tapioca, and milk and sugar come from? Don't worry about it. We gotta stop right here, or this story will get real complex, and I'm not comfortable with that level of complexity, so let's pass our judgment and say no more about it. Boba tea belongs to Taiwan!

Chat, ya gotta realize, mainland China was not interested in diluting its tea with so much milk and sugar that it doesn't taste like tea anymore. That would've been kookie-dooks. The British Empire had to steal it and fuck it up. Then Taiwan stole it back and fucked it up more (according to Wikipedia, via the Dutch in the 17th century). And tapioca is a staple starch from the Americas. "Refined into a juice, gelled into cute little pearls, and served with tea and sugar" is not an Indigenous American serving suggestion. I don't see Taiwan adding a label to every boba tea giving due deference to cassava-loving Americans, nor expressing humility about their use of it not being an improvement.

It's not that I need Taiwan to do this. I just want to see this train of thought followed to its logical conclusion. If you're saying these assholes in Quebec shouldn't be fucking with Taiwan's boba tea, you're also saying those assholes in Taiwan shouldn't have fucked with America's tapioca - and that's terrible. Of COURSE they should've fucked with the tapioca, it is delicious! And if it turns out it's more delicious with fizzies or liquor in it, we're gonna drink that, too, no matter who came up with it. This is how food works. Copying the good ideas off a nearby culture is not evil, not in and of itself. Butter-chicken pizza is not evil, it is spectacular.

I want my boba tea. I don't need a label specifying that it resulted from an intersection of five separate colonizing empires (China, Britain, the Netherlands, Spain, and Japan), the colonization of Taiwan, mass political imprisonments and executions, and the genocide of the Americas. It's very interesting to know that, but mentioning it right when I'm about to slork up my tea would make me choke - pointlessly, I think. Everything is like that. The machine I'm using to write this is like that, the clothes I wear are like that, the language I speak is like that. Nothing is without sin. It can't be put back the way it was, all we can do is try to mitigate it as best we can.

Is refusing to fund some guys with new tea additives because they wounded your nationalist pride (which seems to exist in somewhat of a context-free void) anything more than Neo-liberal capitalist wanking behaviour? Maybe the Chinese-American company will do better and the Quebecois one won't, but that's not justice for any of the injured parties, that's just marketing. Buying shit is not an effective means of reparations or political speech. There is no ethical boba tea under capitalism. I don't have the spoons to research and consume the Least Problematic Beverage, and if you do, I think they'd be better spent on literally anything else.

Mr. Dragon's Den, I have a brick you can use. Go damage property like a real protester or just sit down and drink your tea. Feel free to appropriate whatever cultures you prefer for your toppings.

[optionalcausality]

Long post, somewhat personal. I'm trying to kind of process something that is an ongoing stressor in my life.

So. Executive function issues can be frustrating. Not just for the affected person, but also for those around them. Especially dependents / partners.

My parents haven't had a working dishwasher for over two years now. Their previous dishwasher broke after many years of service, and my mom wanted a replacement, and my dad agreed. So they purchased a brand new dishwasher, which broke after ten days.

My dad decided that he would take on the responsibility for handling this. Which, historically, means that he will do nothing until forced to by outside circumstances, and he will get increasingly irritable when others who are affected by his total lack-of-action try to get him to do something about it, or try to impose deadlines or requirements of any kind.

Was the dishwasher under warranty? Almost certainly, yes, but no action was taken.

After two years (in which my mom tried repeatedly to get my dad to just. Order. A. Replacement) and finally my making a big stink about it at a family gathering such that everyone could agree that two years without a dishwasher is excessive, my dad actually... Took a look at the dishwasher so he could get a model number, so that he could hire someone to come repair it.

(he had not so much as looked up local repair shops or handyperson services in two years)

He ended up "fixing it himself" and it worked for four days and died again.

And he continued to do nothing, insist that he would be the one to deal with the problem, refuse outside help including from relatives, and eventually tell my mom to stop bringing it up.

(my mom is very intelligent and organized and could order a replacement on her own, but she is more disabled than my dad is, and relies on him for a lot, and over the years has made the tactical choice that when he is this level of stubborn, it's not worth it to go "over his head" or whatever unless the situation is direr than this)

I have managed to take one tiny step towards a solution. I have worked out an arrangement with my dad where, if and only if he doesn't have a working dishwasher by the end of August 2024, I will order a replacement for him.

He agreed. He is of course confident that by then, he will have dealt with the situation on his own.

How is he so confident? Because it is more than 90 days away, so his brain (and mine in the absence of a calendar) approximates it as "at the heat death of the universe" and of course he will have dealt with it by then.

I fully expect to order a replacement on August 28, 2024, and for him to be annoyed or possibly very angry with me about it.

Now, venting aside: what I'm getting at is that this isn't new and unique. I grew up in a household where my dad would periodically take responsibility for specific tasks, which if things went well was fine. But if he ran into any unforeseen barriers, the problem wouldn't be fixed until someone got hurt or a pet's life was in danger or it turned into a big blowup fight that finally imposed an external deadline on him...

Or someone else did it.

Which would also result in a fight. And (I speculate) he'd feel that his control over the situation had slipped, so next time he'd be even more stubborn and more territorial over tasks that we all needed him to do and which he wasn't doing, but wouldn't let anyone else do, either.

There's some point where this becomes neglect, and some later point where this pattern of behavior (specifically: not meeting a need, and declaring that no one else is allowed to meet that need; continuing to do this when the issue is one of safety and/or sanitation) becomes abuse.

It's a thorny, complicated situation all around.

And there's a point where it feels crappy and manipulative to use his time-blindness against him -- to use the end of August 2024 as a deadline, knowing that his brain will parse it as basically infinity.

But by then it will be three years without a working dishwasher (which they've had money to replace, and which my mom has always wanted to replace). And I feel there's an argument to be made that my dad has spent two years proving that he isn't able to do this particular task, even if he doesn't see it that way.

Time-blindness. It's freaking rough.

[caffeine-addicted-catlover]

Obey me! Brothers as songs in my 300+ track spotify playlist.

(Based on both: meaning and vibes.)

(A lot of Mitski songs, unsurprisingly for me)

Lucifer

My body's made of crushed little stars

by Mitski

Of course I had to have something with stars in it...

Cannot say that the meaning fully fits him, rather the desperation in the vocals does. Also I feel like it covers his workaholism a little.

Regret message

by Mothy (AkunoP)

This one is a little cheaty from me, since it is from the Evillious Cronicles, which also have the 7 deadly sins (and this song is from the pride arc), but I just couldn't leave it out. Reflecting on stuff you had done blinded by your selfish desires is so Lucifer.

SCARLET OBSTACLE -Shriek of the Melodies-

by Zemeth

This one is more vibes based. Since it is mentioned that besides classical music Lucifer likes metal of some kind, I had found a combo of both. I really enjoy this genre hehe

Mammon

Stop Nagging Me!

by Owata-P

The whole song is about constantly getting criticized for everything you do, having all your mistakes pointed out, being the scapegoat and taking it all, letting it happen untill you're absolutely sick of it.

This song is so Mammon I don't know if I can even put it into words. Seriously, go read it's translation on vocaloid lyrics wiki.

You're a Useless Child

by Kikuo

A song where you're told that you are worthless and unable to do anything properly.

I think this needs no explanation.

YKWIM?

by Yot Club

I think that this one shows him, probably, considering himself annoying. Especially in

"Sometimes it seems like I'm in your way"

line.

Leviathan

INTERNET YAMERO

by KOTOKO, Aiobahn

Ah yes, Needy Streamer Overload, the most Levi game in existence (to me ofc). The tune itself reminds me of him a lot. He probably would be a Kangel fan.

Better Than Me

by The Brobecks

Inferiority complex: the song. It is literally in the title.

I Feel Bad

by I Hate Myself Because

A song about being conflicted whether or not you can handle company of a certain person and fearing loneliness.

Satan

Yukiko-san

by Midori

The lyrics might not particularly make sense to me, but the vocals and music just scream Satan. Especially "Destroy!" lines. To me it seems like something he would listen to while trying to cope with his rage.

Ussewa

by Ado, syudou

The song is originally about Japan's corporate culture, but with Ado's incredible vocals and overall sarcastic, furious and mocking tone of the song it fits him quite well in my opinion.

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Set if Off

I feel like he'd enjoy this song. It's overall nature fits Satan's untrusting worldview. He would, perhaps, dedicate the very last verse of it to a certain demon...

Asmodeus

Brand New City

by Mitski

"But if I gave up on being pretty, I wouldn't know how to be alive..."

FVN!

by LVL1

It's just a chill song about having fun and s3x in the car, literally. With it's overall sounding, I think it not only fits Asmo by vibe, but also is something he'd listen to.

Primadonna

by MARINA

A song about craving attention, staying in the spotlight, getting all you want, but being unhappy deep down, since all this masquerade is to fill the void.

Beelzebub

Francis Forever

by Mitski

I feel like the general theme of this song fits him the best. Someone is gone from your life and now it seems empty, as if there is no point in doing things, since the person won't see it.

Close to You

by niki

As the description states:

"The song is about watching someone's lover die in front of them with a smiling face, and how they mourn and try to accept their death."

But I feel like you can interpret the figure of lover as a different, non-romantic close person.

Servant of Evil

by Mothy (AkunoP)

Yes, another song from the Evillious Cronicles. I can't resist it, sorry.

The plot of the song is a brother sacrificing a lot (including his own life) for his twin sister. The ending of this song is him literally going to execution instead of his sister by switching places and clothes, since they're identical twins.

Belphegor

Child Psychology

by Black Box Recorder

This is more vibe oriented pick, but some of the lyrics might fit him. The overall blunt, uninterested tone of the vocals seems very much him.

Let's Take Some Medicine and Go to Sleep

by Mochiutsune

The song's main point is probably about escapism through sleep. Whenever talking about any kind of problem the narrator decides to take some meds and go to sleep, just like the title states.

I Hate Everyone but You

by Elita

This one is about constantly being tired to the point of staying in bed all day and being criticised on it in the past, yet now there's a person who understands you and it doesn't bother them. While you'd grown resentful towards every other person ever, this one is fine.

Thanks for reading this mess!

[thedevilsmemes]

ASTARION ANCUNIN QUOTES ~ BALDUR'S GATE 3 SENTENCE MEME!

"Hello, darling. Don't be shy, I promise I not to bite until we've been formally introduced."

"The tadpole's influence broke his dominance over me, and now I can finally pursue the one thing I've hungered for these long dark years."

"I'll be the last thing the bastard ever sees."

"Given that my choices were 'eternal life' or 'bleed to death on the street', I took him up on the offer."

"It was only afterwards I realized just how long 'eternity' could be."

"By the Hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion."

"I'm out of wine and flowers, so I hope an introduction will suffice."

"And I wish I was drinking out of the skull of everyone who's ever wronged me. Life is tough."

"I've been waiting. Waiting since the moment I laid eyes on you. Waiting... to have you."

"Yes darling, that's what we call a lie."

"All I want is a little fun, is that so much to ask?"

"Why hello. Welcome to my humble party."

"Oh, we're lying to each other now? Excellent."

"But... you're no stranger now. Just strange."

"I hate it. This is awful."

"Wait! Don't interrupt them. Let me do it. They sound disgusting."

"I don't know, I'm sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your heart."

"My, My. Who knew our friend had so much blood in them?"

"Oh, you're such a sweetheart."

"I'm just glad you're being sensible about these revelations. I was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks."

"Although, there's still time."

"I already apologised. What more do you want? Unless you're looking for another nibble?"

"Yes, darling? Do you need something?"

"What in the sweet hells were you THINKING activating that lance, I was right there!"

"Next time? No no no, if there is a 'next time' I'll be the one aiming the all-powerful weapon."

"Although, I do appreciate you trying to fix your mistake, just don't do it again!"

"It's just that I happen to be a... what's the best way to put this? A vampire?"

"Oh my honour, the only thing on my mind, is depraved carnal lust."

"You couldn't wait ten seconds before being an absolute freak."

"Oh, good, puns. Because clowns aren't enough of a horror already."

"What? Was it something I said?"

"Really? - Anything in particular?"

"Now, I can't help but notice that one of us is positively drenched in blood. So..."

"At least the smut peddlers of Sharass' Caress will have a field day writing erotic verse about us when we're both dead."

"Hundreds? Urgh, it'll take hours to kill them all. She/He's right, we should just go."

"Oh? Then what do you want?"

"Five seconds into this relationship and I already want to break up with you."

"Oh the one hand, killing Gortash will be fun. On the other, Halsin can be very annoying."

"The man can't stay quiet about 'enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts'. I bet he'd outlaw clothing if he could."

"Good Morning. Thank you for not killing me the other night."

"Of course, what fun! I'm going to fucking kill you."

"I am. And beautiful - not enough people mention that."

"Hmm. Hmm. Thank you for helping me. It was very kind."

"I can't even tell if any of you are acting strange because you've been replaced or because this group is full of weirdos!"

"So... I was wondering if maybe - perhaps - you might be able to..."

"Can you read what's on my damn back? Please?"

"Well, hello... Looking for a cuddle?"

"What are you? No. We are not jumping down there!"

"Oh - eh - Hello again?"

"Easy now. Let's not do anything Hilarious."

"You have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. I like it."

"I'd trust a devil over a vampire any day. I think he likes us."

"Oh, bravo! Encore!"

"Why she sounds positively demented."

"I love it! let's tell her everything!"

"Don't be touchy. I'm sure he meant 'better off dead' as a compliment."

"I'd shake her hand, but she can still snap me in two, so... probably safest to skip it."

"Anyway, it's a brand new day. I'm sure we'll find lots of people for you to kill."

"I must see this. Don't you dare say no."

"Well, this seems like a lovely little spot. The sense of impending doom aside."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time until [ insert name ] took vengeance."

"For the Lady/Lord of loss, She/He does not like losing."

"Come to kill me again, darling?"

"Guilty as charged. Sometimes literally."

"What? No! Don't you dare! This isn't funny!"

"Huh, thank goodness, I was almost worried."

"Nice as it is, she still doesn't have the best hair in the camp."

"Well, I mean... kind of? It's a long story, honestly."

"You'll get back to me? This is important, devil! When?"

"It's not enough we have a gallery of villains to look out for, but now we could be infiltrated by a shapechanger?"

"But you're serious about this? About... us?"

"Tailor's mannequins? I never figured [ insert name ] for a follower of fashion."

"Well done again on besting Baal and all that. It was very twee."

"You filthy devil. I'm shocked."

"Haha! That's - Oh, you're serious."

"Well, of course we can leave him, it's the easiest thing in the world. We just have to keep on walking."

"Well, at least you purr for me..."

"The thing that will decide my fate forevermore? Yes, it has been on my mind, why?"

"Who knows how long before the others go feral without us there to guide them?"

"Let. Me. Go! - Ah... Hello!"

"No, as much as I'd like to become a Lord, ruling over the Underdark's vampire spawn, we have unfinished business with the mind flayers."

"I'm glad you had your fun then. I am here to provide an endless array of delights."