#beach day tips
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tahyirasavanna · 2 years ago
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4 Must-Haves For The Ultimate Beach Day
Who doesn’t love spending a day by the ocean during the sunny season? The perfect beach day can feel so freeing, and ultimately healing. And now’s a great time to get planning so you’re ready to hit the beach as soon as the weather is hot enough! Here are some essentials to make your day on the sand the best yet.  Heads up: some of the shopping links in this roundup may be affiliate links, which…
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happycrabitat · 7 months ago
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Little guy discovered the wheel!
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yourlocalvampire3 · 5 months ago
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Finally drew my dragon girl for the first time in a minute but I have absolutely no idea how to color her any ideas?
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Her name is Lizzabeth/Liz for short she's a cloud dragon and she has Asteriod Hyalosis in her right eye
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toasty-owl-arts · 3 days ago
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i actually remembered this year woa
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shatterthefragments · 2 months ago
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Accidentally introduced mum to the phrase “are you shitting my dick” today 🪦
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mygnolia · 8 months ago
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idc that i have not ONE but TWO wips in the making…erm riki childhood friends to enemies to lovers plsplsplsplspls I WILL WEITE THIS I WILL MAKE IT COME INTO FRUITION
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autistickfigure · 2 years ago
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that's paradise
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traveluxxx4 · 11 days ago
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Guadeloupe: A Mosaic of Wonders Where Nature and Culture Dance to the Rhythm of the Waves
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Discover the enchanting beauty of Guadeloupe, an exquisite Caribbean archipelago that promises a sensory journey like no other. From the lush tropical landscapes to the stunning turquoise waters, this island captivates with its diverse offerings.
Why You’ll Love Guadeloupe: Guadeloupe is an archipelago of contrasts, featuring the blissful beaches of Grande-Terre and the majestic volcanoes of Basse-Terre. Don't miss the charming islands of Marie-Galante, Les Saintes, and La Désirade—truly, it’s “The Island of Beautiful Waters.”
Must-See Gems:
Dream Beaches: Explore pristine sands at La Caravelle, the cinematic beauty of Grande Anse, and the unique volcanic sands of Malendure Beach.
Amazing Nature: Hike La Soufrière volcano, marvel at Chutes du Carbet’s waterfalls, and kayak through the biodiverse Grand Cul-de-Sac Marin.
Hidden Islands: Visit the pastel-hued houses in Les Saintes and savor artisanal rum on Marie-Galante.
Cultural Flavors: Immerse yourself in the vibrant market scene at Pointe-à-Pitre and indulge in delicious Creole dishes, from colombo curry to coconut sorbet.
Unforgettable Experiences: Swim with sea turtles in the Cousteau Reserve, take a breathtaking helicopter ride over the islands, and join in the lively Carnival celebrations.
Fun Fact: Guadeloupe boasts the longest hiking trail in the Lesser Antilles and features the beautiful Deshaies Botanical Garden.
Practical Tips: Plan your visit between December and April, rent a car for easy exploration, and choose from beachfront villas or eco-lodges for your stay.
Guadeloupe isn’t just a destination; it’s an experience waiting to awaken your senses. Are you ready to explore this vibrant paradise?
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dogstairsandramps · 14 days ago
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If you're a boating lover with a pup who enjoys splashing around, you need to check out dog water ramps! These essential accessories make it super easy and safe for your furry friend to hop in and out of the water. Perfect for older dogs or those with mobility issues, these ramps feature non-slip surfaces and a gentle incline to help all breeds enjoy their time on the water.
After testing a range of options, here are my top picks:
POP Inflatable Dog Ramp - A portable solution that’s sturdy enough for big pups. Quick inflation and easy setup make it a winner.
PUP ON! Inflatable Dog Ramp - With its massive platform and bright colors, this ramp makes it easy for your dog to climb aboard safely.
Snagle Paw Inflatable Dog Ramp - A solid choice with a wide, stable design. It’s a breeze to store and perfect for those pool or beach days.
WARDIX Inflatable Dog Ramp - Lightweight and versatile, this ramp works like a charm at any water spot.
LUFFWELL XL Dog Water Ramp - Extra-large and stable, but keep an eye on durability. It’s great for bigger dogs but a bit bulkier to handle.
When choosing, think about your dog's size, ramp material, and how easy it is to set up and store. With the right ramp, your boating days will be filled with fun and safe adventures together!
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parentingvip · 6 months ago
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leyiorr · 5 months ago
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i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!
mdni.
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satoru gojo is doomed.
why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.
crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.
of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.
you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.
he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.
more.
that's right, you were more.
recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.
surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.
he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.
so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.
it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?
his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-
“satoru?”
his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.
“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.
what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-
“satoru!”
he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.
it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.
the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.
(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)
he should be neutered. effective immediately.
it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:
“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-
“...is that it?”
and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?
he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.
yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.
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handbagfashionexpert · 9 months ago
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Beach Bag Hacks: Clever Tips For An Effortless Beach Day
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Opt for the best beach bag in Australia with pockets for organization. Pack smartly, prioritizing sunscreen, water, and snacks. Freeze water bottles for a cooling dual purpose. Utilize mesh bags for sandy items and sealable plastic bags for electronics. Bring a compact, fast-drying towel and a portable speaker for added enjoyment. Streamline your beach outing with these ingenious tips for a stress-free experience.
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renaissance35 · 1 year ago
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I'd like you to meet 19th place! Another sister art collab. Can you tell which one I did?
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pseudowho · 7 months ago
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Read Part One of "Breeding Hips" here...let's gooooooo!
It was supposed to be a simple beach trip-- "Give the kids a break in Okinawa", Gojo said. "It'll be fun!" Gojo said.
Kento had failed to check the staff attendance list. Of course they'd invite you, with your natural warmth and the way the kids loved you. Of course they'd invite you, when you'd seemed so down lately.
Of course they'd invite you, with how the sea-breeze pleated the saran around your hips, barely-there, almost as soft as the way your plush creased at the top of your thighs when you sat he'd heard Shoko laughingly call them your "thighbrows" and how he could have bitten Shoko's head off as you cringed mortified and covering yourself up shit don't go please dont leave--
In his hotel room, Kento groaned in abject self-pity. He tried to breathe in time with the hushed roar of the waves, lapping up the shore like a lovers' tongue. In...out...in...out.
His head rested against the cool wall, his forearm planted above it, while his other hand tried to grip his aching length into submission, torturing himself with fuck up after fuck up after fuck up and it all started with that ill-fated car journey--
He'd take the edge off, he thought, slipping his hand into his beach shorts, shivering as he swirled pre-cum over his hypersensitive tip, biting the back of his hand as he began to stroke himself-- just one more time, and then I can cope--
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"...and in the most disrespectful possible way?"
Kento made a strangled, animalistic noise in the base of his throat, stalling the car at the traffic lights. He sat, ramrod straight, sweating like a virgin.
"...dont." He warned, his voice throaty and dangerous. "Don't."
A frisson of electric ran down your spine. You clenched your fists in your lap, staring straight ahead, and whispering; "Oh...okay."
The car journey was fraught with silence. For "disrespectfully" were the words bloomed into pictures, graphic and obscene, that Kento used to get himself off to you. "Disrespectfully" were the stones of shame weighing his pockets, as he showered himself down, water rehydrating the cloying cum stuck to his belly. "Disrespectfully" were the feral parts of him that sought to lift you onto the counter and bite you, until you were crushing his head between the thickness of your thighs.
"Disrespectfully" was so unprofessional, Kento could vomit. Still, saliva pooled under his tongue, unable to eschew "disrespectfully" from his mind when you asked him in that petalsweet voice.
"Disrespectfully" opened the car door for you. "Disrespectfully" offered you the curtest of bows as you headed inside. "Disrespectfully" waited until you'd definitely gone, before rubbing his eyes so hard, lights fizzlepopped behind them. "Disrespectfully" took him over the edge again, and again, to the imaginary sound of his thighs slapping into the backs of yours.
You screamed into a pillow, never able to look Nanami Kento in the eye again, after overstepping so hard, so fast.
The next few weeks of work with Nanami Kento were like sharing an office with a well-dressed wooden broom. Even pencil skirts didn't appear to break him.
They did. He spent the best part of two weeks stiff, in every way.
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He hadn't known you'd be coming to the beach, until the watermelon incident.
You and Shoko had been day-drinking, in just swimsuits, and you brought the curves and giggles of the Piña Colada glass with you. Misty as the clouded glass, you swayed with Shoko, and each step you took closer, the lower Kento's IQ dropped, point, by point, by point. That heavy arse flicked from side to side, bopping Kento's sanity away with it.
Somehow, impossibly, you held a whole watermelon in the deep divot of your waist. Your hip shelved it up, your squishy saddlebags plumping out beneath the heavy, verdant weight. With one arm draped above to hold the watermelon in place while you staggered hand in hand with Shoko, it all looked so effortless. Kento was sweating bricks, his book all but forgotten.
Thank god for dark sunglasses. He looked up without looking up. Hidden in sun-lounger shade, he watched you, obsessing in secrecy, a modern day peeping-Tom. You're okay Nanami pull yourself together stop being such a fucking boy--
"Hey, hey..." Shoko teased you, grasping your hip-squash with the girlish friendship needed to get away with it, "...I bet you could crush that watermelon between your thighs."
Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no--
You laughed, you and Shoko high off your own supply. Shoko sat on the sand, placing the watermelon between her thighs, trying her best to squeeze them together as you wiped tears away, sitting down beside her.
And Kento watched how your ass spread, how your thighs spread, like melting gumdrops, want to fucking bite them--
"I'll give it a go...c'mere c'mere...nonono Shoko, 's my turn!"
Shoko rolled the watermelon across the sand. Kento wasn't aware his mouth had dropped open, when you opened your legs, leant back on the sand, like heaven's gates opening...and you clamped the watermelon between them.
And squeeeeezed.
Kento pressed his book over his lap, a tent over a tent. His mouth was dry, his throat thick. He moaned, somewhere deep in his chest, as a hot little dribble of pre-cum dripped down the leg of his swim shorts.
Surely she can't break a watermelon just between her thighs, those hips couldn't be that stro--
Crack.
Shoko cheered. You threw your arms in the air, and cheered. Your inner thighs dripped, stickysweet with watermelon juice. You lay back, laughing in the sand, your arms still above your head.
Kento relieved himself to the bar, his head swimming, still clamping his book over his throbbing lap, far too dizzied to be surreptitious.
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The day-drinking buzz faded by the time the seagull calls grew tired, against ombre skies. Shoko remained smashed, and Gojo designated-driver'd her to her room. Sandals grasped in one hand, with the salty sting of a chafe between your legs, you ambled across the beach, past the waterside bar.
Except, you stopped. To see him.
Kento's head was in his hands, his shirt opened and hanging off broad, lightly freckled shoulders, seasalt crystals down his back. You frowned at the volume of empty glasses in front of him.
"...Ken--...Nanami?"
Kento's elbow gave out under him with a grunt of surprise, his head lurching, swoopy before recovering. Narrow, slanted eyes glared at you, bleary.
"...oh. 's you."
You drew your saran around yourself, astonished by how such a big strip of fabric was still barely enough to cover your arse. Kento could feel himself thickening already, burying his face in his hands again with a groan. He stood, his legs barely responding to commands. He tried to sober himself, standing tall and stern, his usual self, wettened by drink.
"I'll walk you to your room."
"You don't have to do that--"
"I insist."
In truth, you weren't sure if you should walk Kento back to his room instead. He repeatedly fell a few steps behind, before shaking himself off and catching up again.
Each time, Kento's drunk eyes dropped, the mesmerising swing of your hips, the dimpled jiggle of your arse...how his tongue thickened like his cock, thirsty and hungry all at once and god she's lovely too the whole deal the whole nine yards shit Kento how can you look at her so--
"Thanks. For walking me back."
Kento clenched. Time's up. His face was flat, expressionless, downcast to the floor. You cleared your throat, opening your door and stepping through.
"Goodnight, Nanami--"
A foot jammed your door, Kento growling in pain as it squashed his sandal'd foot. You looked slowly up to his face, feeling a trickle of hot, terrifying anticipation slide down your spine. Kento's eyes drilled into you, whiskey on his breath, sobering rapidly as he made up his mind.
"I'd...like to come in."
You throbbed. Every hair stood on end as you asked.
"...respectfully?"
Kento's jaw clenched so hard, you heard the crack.
"Disrespectfully."
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star-sim · 1 month ago
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show me how ☆ jake sim
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☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!
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"Can I get uhhhhh…"
Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.
He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.
But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!
Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!
For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.
Wrong!
It was horrible!
From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.
It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.
"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.
The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"
Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"
Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.
By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.
And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.
Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?
Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!
"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."
With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.
You've got to be kidding me.
If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.
As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.
And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.
"Jake, I'm here!"
There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.
And it was you.
His savior, you.
You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.
If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.
And plus, you were cute.
Really cute.
Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.
You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.
Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.
Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.
"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.
You were cool like that.
Actually, really cool.
Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.
And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—
"Um, sir, can I order now?"
Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.
"R-Right!"
Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.
It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.
The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night. 
You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"
As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.
"They're gone, Jake," you called.
From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."
Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.
Tonight was no different from any other.
It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.
The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.
Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.
But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.
"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.
"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.
Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.
He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.
Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.
"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"
You shrugged. "Beats me."
The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."
Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.
Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.
This was the fun part.
"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"
You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"
Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.
"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."
You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.
It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.
"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"
You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.
"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.
Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.
Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.
"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.
"I heard that!"
You stifled a chuckle.
As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).
And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.
At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.
Which... now that you thought about it...
Why couldn't you hear any of that?
Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.
But now, all you heard was wind.
You glanced out the window.
Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.
And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.
One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.
Your blood ran cold.
The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.
You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.
But in that moment, you felt panic set in.
Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.
And because you were afraid of the dark.
The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.
Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.
"J-Jake?" you called out.
No response.
Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.
What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.
Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.
You squeezed your eyes shut.
The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—
"[Name]?"
At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.
But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.
Terrifying.
You let out a shriek as you jumped back.
What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—
It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—
"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"
You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.
"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."
You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.
Boom!
You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.
Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.
"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.
He glanced at your startled form.
"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."
You hid your face in your palms.
This was everything that you didn't want to happen.
It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!
Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness. 
"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."
Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.
He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.
The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.
You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.
It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.
The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.
You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.
"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."
Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.
"I'm scared!" you squealed.
Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.
"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."
Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."
You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.
"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."
You shook your head again.
"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."
"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."
You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.
Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.
He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.
Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.
It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.
Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.
Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.
If only he could do something to help you...
Jake let out an 'ah' sound.
He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."
You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.
"J-Jake—!"
"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."
And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.
"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"
You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.
"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.
You blinked. "W-Why?"
"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.
"For you," he said simply.
As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.
You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.
Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.
And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.
Because really?
Bon Jovi?
At a time like this?
The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.
"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.
You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.
"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."
Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."
"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."
You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."
You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!
"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."
You scoffed. "In what world?"
You could hear him grin again. "In my world."
What a loser.
You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.
“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.
“Nope.”
Extreme times call for extreme measures.
Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.
“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“
“I’m changing the song!”
The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.
“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.
“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.
“Then change the song!”
“No!”
You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“
Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.
“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.
As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.
"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.
Jake hummed.
He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.
He wanted to get to know you.
“What’s your favorite color?”
???
"What?"
Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"
You stared at him. "Why?"
He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."
"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."
Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."
"Huh? Then what is it?"
"A shade."
"Says who?"
"Says science!"
And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)
But not quite awkward.
Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.
That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.
"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.
And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.
"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."
"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."
Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."
"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.
"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"
Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.
"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."
"Whaddaya mean?"
You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"
You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.
"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.
You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.
"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."
"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.
"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.
"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.
"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.
Awkward.
The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.
Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).
Everything was exactly as you left it.
The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.
"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!
"I'm not." Lie.
Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—
Boom!
Oh right, the storm.
Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.
Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.
"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."
You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.
"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.
Shit.
"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"
"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."
After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.
You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.
He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.
When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!
He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.
These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.
But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.
Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.
He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.
And that was the weird part.
It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!
You didn't really get it.
Surely, it wasn't a crush.
It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.
But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.
Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.
And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.
In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.
But that was a lie.
Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!
Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.
Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.
You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?
Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.
For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.
He couldn't wait for it.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"
Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.
Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.
So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.
Diabolical.
It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.
Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.
Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!
You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.
"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.
"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"
"Unacceptable!"
You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.
"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"
All of this.... for ice cream?"
"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"
"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.
But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.
"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.
Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.
"J-Jake?!"
The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.
"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.
Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.
"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.
The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"
Jake only shook his head calmly.
"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."
Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.
"Please leave, sir."
He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.
"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."
With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.
"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."
He gently pushed you down onto a chair.
Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."
"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"
But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.
"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."
(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)
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You deadpanned.
This was not what you signed up for.
It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.
You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.
Nope.
"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"
Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.
Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.
You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.
"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."
You tuned him out.
And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.
You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!
"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.
"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."
And he was indeed correct.
There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.
Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.
"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"
You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"
"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."
Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.
This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.
"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"
But it wasn't always easy.
Like always, customers and children were rude.
"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.
And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.
And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.
You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.
At the same time.
"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"
"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"
Jake was being terribly awkward about it.
"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"
"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.
"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"
Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"
Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.
"What are you—"
"Just change!"
In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).
When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.
Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.
Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.
Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.
"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.
"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.
You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."
When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.
"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"
Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.
Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.
Ah, Jake was going crazy.
Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.
Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?
It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.
And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.
As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?
"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"
You groaned again.
"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"
You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.
"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.
"Door's unlocked."
Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.
"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.
It was his own uniform shirt.
"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.
"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.
"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.
Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."
Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.
Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?
As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.
Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.
As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.
It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.
You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.
And then there were rude and entitled customers.
Jake was taking the fall for you too much.
And you couldn't keep letting it happen.
As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.
"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"
Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."
"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.
"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."
Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"
His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.
"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."
You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."
Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"
"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."
And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.
"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.
"What was what?"
Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"
"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"
Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"
You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"
Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."
You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."
You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."
"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.
You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.
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Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.
He was nervous.
Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.
Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.
You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.
Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.
You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.
It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.
Pretty for Jake.
You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.
"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"
Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.
You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—
"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."
Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."
"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"
You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"
"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."
You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?
"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.
You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.
"Shall we go?"
It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.
Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.
You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.
"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.
You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."
Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"
You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"
Jake hummed.
The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.
"What's this?" Jake asked.
You grinned. "A swimsuit store."
Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!
But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.
"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.
On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.
But he was wrong.
"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."
What.
What?
And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.
He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.
But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?
Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.
And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.
"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"
And oh.
Good lord.
Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.
But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.
The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.
You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.
"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.
"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."
"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.
And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.
And he was so wrong.
Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!
Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.
Well, Jake did survive.
After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.
You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.
More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.
And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks. 
"Let's go walk along the shore!"
And so you did.
The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.
It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.
By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.
In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.
He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.
Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.
He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.
"You."
.
.
.
You?
You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.
"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"
You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.
You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."
"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.
But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?
But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.
Just go for it.
His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.
Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.
"Hey!" you cried.
"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.
You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.
The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.
Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.
With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.
Your earbuds.
You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.
You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.
The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.
"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"
You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."
"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"
And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.
You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.
Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.
And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.
When he hung up, his face dropped.
"They need me to take someone's shift."
Oh.
This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.
Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.
Because they always needed you and Jake to work.
And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.
Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.
The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.
You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.
When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.
"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."
You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.
Those lazy bums.
They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.
And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.
"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."
"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."
The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.
Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.
He stared at your bored expression.
He couldn't let you stay bored.
Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.
"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.
"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.
"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.
Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."
You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"
"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."
You chuckled. "Okay, fine."
Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.
The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.
Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.
"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"
Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"
You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."
"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."
The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.
"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"
But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.
Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—
"Seriously, make it harder for me!"
Jake gulped.
The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.
He'd already taken a few bites out of it.
He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.
Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.
Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.
His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.
Your lips were just so damn pretty.
It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.
He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.
And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.
Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.
You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.
Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.
Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.
The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.
"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"
And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.
There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.
Jake needed more, he needed you.
In his head, it was all just you, you, you.
"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."
He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.
Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—
"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"
!!!
You and Jake jumped away from each other.
Shit.
It was still store hours.
"Are we going to get fired?"
Now it was actually closing hours.
You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.
And it was awkward.
Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.
But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?
You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.
"For what?"
You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.
"Kissing coworkers."
"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"
"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"
.
.
.
"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"
Jake was already on it.
“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”
After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.
"We resign!"
Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"
You and Jake smiled. "We quit."
You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.
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BONUS
"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.
"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.
"Oh."
You should probably put that on your to-do list.
You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.
Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!
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note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<
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susanhannifordcrowley · 1 year ago
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Writing Tools: How I Named My Characters in The Vampire with a Blanket of Stars By Susan Hanniford Crowley
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