#like production outage bad

[houseofwolvess]

power went out on the whole fucking block. yay

[star-sim]

show me how ☆ jake sim

☆ 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!

"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.)

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.

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.

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!

note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<

[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (a Valentino production)

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

Valentino has acquired a living, breathing human in hell. But at the begging of Angel, Alastor makes a deal in exchange for her soul.

tags: Alastor x reader, smut, dubcon, mentions of assault (Val intended to "fuck you to death”), Val's existence, overstimulation, forced (?) orgasms, bondage (shadow tentacles), choking (sexy kind, not murdery kind), cervix wrecked, your aunt is a bitch

(author's note: I've been in Japan for like 7 years and my English has suffered, but your fucking smutty writing on this site has inspired me to write for the first time in years.)

Minors DNI

Angel burst into the hotel lobby, winded. “Please, you gotta do somethin’!” 

To the surprise of everyone, he ran straight to Alastor, tears forming in his eyes.

“Val’s gonna hurt her real bad. I don’t know who else to ask, please. I can't—-“ he cradled his head in his hands, “I can't watch him break any more people.”

Alastor didn’t seem to react at first, but Charlie appeared at Angel’s side and pulled him into a hug, “Angel, take a deep breath. He’s gonna hurt who? What’s wrong?”

“He got a new soul. Some fucking cultist offered her up as sacrifice. But she's not dead yet Charlie—- he dragged her down here alive.” His voice cracked, “He wantsta— he said he’s gonna fuck her to death on camera and wait for her to respawn in hell. He’s convinced he’ll make a fortune off the tapes. Please, for fuck’s sake someone has to do something.”

A human in hell? Well, that was something interesting after all. With a raised brow Alastor spoke, “And how exactly can I help this poor, unfortunate soul?”

“Make a deal or– rip his arms off, I don’t fuckin’ know! There has to be something you can offer Val worth her soul. I’d give you my soul if I could!”

Well that’d be worthless.

But a human? A living, breathing human? Intriguing.

“Alastor you have do something. This isn't right! Hell isn’t for the living.” Charlie’s hair flew upward as her eyes flashed red for a second, “I’ll repay it somehow.”

Well there's no harm in taking a look. 

The demons and sinners who saw Alastor walking into the Vee’s tower oscillated between fleeing for their lives and live tweeting the event. Either a truce or a war would be breaking out and they knew they’d be fucked regardless.

“Alastooor”, Val exhaled,  letting the name drag out lazily, “Come to ruin something, I’m sure.” Val hadn’t seen Alastor since his fight with Vox 7 years ago, and he hadn’t expected to see him in his studio— ever. 

“Ha! No, not today. Word got around that there's a special little guest hidden in your studio.” Alastor’s eyes darted about the room, uninterested in the various parts and bits of the actors changing.

Val glanced at Angel, who’d suspiciously returned some 30 minutes before Alastor appeared. 

“I didn’t say nothing, Val.” Angel’s hands went up in defense. “He came to me askin’ about her.”

“And what exactly do you want with my “little guest”?” Val dropped any pretense of politeness. 

Alastor leaned forward on his microphone, and with a pop of static he practically cooed, “To see the poor creature, of course.”

Val ashed his cigarette into a cameraman’s hair and walked off, “Fuck it, sure. She’s back here.”

The back room was dark, perhaps some would call it mood lighting but what mood exactly it conveyed fell somewhere between dungeon and power outage.

You sat on your knees in the center of a round bed. Arms held above your head by a large clip attached to wrist restraints. Your body swayed slightly, a long rope anchored to the ceiling and tied to the clip above you.  Your body was slightly suspended, knees barely making contact with the bed beneath you. The white nightgown you wore was bloodied and ripped at the collar, causing it to slip down your left shoulder. Jaw clenched, your eyes were covered with a red satin tie. 

Alastor took the scene in. Your lip was cut and swollen, bruises peppered your cheek and exposed shoulder. Yet, you were breathing heavily, like a bull about to rush them. You were clearly defenseless, but somehow still defiant. His smile grew to his ears. It had been decades since he had a human in such a prone state.

“Have you …. broken her in yet?” He asked delicately, eyes never leaving your face.

“Nah, just roughed her up a little. I want to capture her raw reaction on camera when she takes her first demon cock.” Valentino clenched his fist to emphasize the word “first”. 

Your head fell forward as you pulled down on your wrist restraints, a growl rising in your throat.

Alastor felt his breath get caught in his own, your nightgown riding slowly up your legs as you struggled. 

“Hey!” Val snapped his fingers in your direction. “Don’t embarrass me. Our guest came to see you. He’s considering making an offer for you, I’m sure, so say hello like a good girl.” Val rolled his eyes, “Sluts always fucking embarrassing me.”

You tried to gather enough saliva to speak, finding the taste of blood still on your tongue. “Fuck you and your friend.” barely made it from your chapped lips. When was your last drink of water? Last meal? How long had you been unconscious before this all began?

“Not friends.” Alastor was quick to retort, “The name’s Alastor, my dear. It’s a pleasure.”

You sneered, a pleasure? What a sick joke. 

“Alastor.” you repeated it, disdain dripping from your lips.

The absolute contempt with which you said his name did something to him. His eyes darted from your mouth back to your inner thighs, exposed from the rising dress. Your mouth was so rude but your body looked so sweet. A little lamb– no, a doe.  

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a request, Alastor himself was surprised to hear himself say it with such demand.

You thrashed. “Oh is that what gets you off? You wanna hear your name in my mouth?” You said mockingly. “You’re just as FUCKED as him.” The nightgown rode up even further. Alastor’s tongue stuck to his teeth as his mouth went dry. Had you been delivered to Val without panties? Offered to him in just this sheer cotton night dress? What was happening to him…

 Static bit your skin as a low hum filled the room. 

“Say it.” Alastor’s voice dropped an octave, eyes suddenly taking on a slight glow. You couldn’t see the danger before you, but you felt it. Something primal in you knew you were in the presence of a predator.

No, you couldn’t see him, but his presence was pressing in all around you. 

“Alastor.” You seethed, “ALASTOR.” Pulling down on the restraints yet again you tried to find the strength to stand, “ALASTOR! ALASTOR!!” Your legs buckled under you having gone numb hours ago, his name devolving into a gutteral scream. All of your anger and despair ripped from your chest as you shouted his name. The nightgown had now ridden to your hips but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in you to care. 

You were so full of rage, so defiant still. You were so…. alive.

He felt the blood rushing to his crotch in an all together forgotten sensation, and knew immediately his decision. “Let’s make a deal.” His eyes didn’t leave you, but Valentino knew he was talking to him.

Val let out a laugh, “I have some time to waste while they finish the set. Why not.”

Seated in his personal quarters, Val motioned for Alastor to sit opposite him. You had been left in the dark of that room, only knowing you were alone when the static died down and the hair on the nape of your neck relaxed. 

“Listen, Radio Demon. There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to hand over the little bitch.” His long arms rested over the back of his sofa, a heart shaped puff of smoke leaving his lips. Alastor swatted at the air as it approached. 

“What do you even need her for? You don’t deal in souls, but flesh. Surely you can find another toy to break on camera.” Alastor waved his microphone away.

“Hmm”, Val brought a finger to his chin in thought, seriously considering what Alastor could possibly offer him. “Oooh, I know.” His head lolled to the side,  “People have seen me fuck a thousand times. But no one’s ever even seen you with a partner. ‘Radio Demon fucks human sacrifice’” He motioned from left to right as if reading the words off an imaginary marquee, “Now THAT would make money. Real money. Fuck GOD levels of money.” A red liquid leaked from his lips as they were stretched across clenched teeth, his hips involuntarily humped at the air, “oh fuck. Yes. You do the porn, and I’ll give her to you. Soul and body.”

Alastor was looking at Val but his mind was still in front of you, his name tumbling from your lips. The uninterrupted skin where your thighs met your hips. The desperation in your scream. How absolutely soft and fragile you were. He adjusted his hips, trying to calm the twitching of his cock at the thought of you helplessly before him. 

“What exactly are you proposing?” His fingers came to rest entwined on his knee, one leg over the other.

“First, I have full rights to the video to do as I please.” Val counted out on his fingers, “The porno has to show penetration. No dry humping or some bullshit like that. I need you fucking that whore if I’m gonna sell this shit. Aaand”, A sickening grin grew on Valentino’s face, “She has to cum. And I’ll know if she’s faking it. If you don’t manage all three, the deal is off. I keep the human and all rights to the video for per— no, *in* pep-“ he sputtered, “perpur- forever! Fuck.” 

Alastor’s default grin was now so wide his gums could be seen peeking past his lips, his eyes flashing to dials, “It’s a deal.” He extended his hand to Valentino as he stood. A green light was shining from the open palm but Val shook it regardless, confident the deal's conditions wouldn’t be met. He’d seen a lot of fucked up shit on his set, but the Radio Demon, famously uninterested in sex, wasn’t going to make a battered human cum. How stupid could Alastor be, he thought. And he’ll have the video of Alastor failing to please someone to broadcast all over the pride ring and beyond. “May I have a moment alone with her before the filming?”

Val rolled his eyes, “yeah but don’t fuck her off camera.”

The sudden feeling of a hand on your hip startled you so intensely you let out a yelp. 

“Hello, my little doe.” Hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, then your neck, then your collar bone… “Unfortunately your shoot will still continue today. But if you do as I say, I promise you’ll leave the studio alive.”

You felt the nightgown being tugged back down your hips, hiding your exposed sex.

“I will be taking that pompous moth’s place. I will be as gentle as I can, but he will want to see you suffer. You must still fight me, must act pained. Can you play along?”

Your eyes darted behind your eyelids. He sounded— gentle? His voice was soft against your skin. Maybe he was truly the lesser evil of the two. You nodded. You’d heard all the gory details of what the other demon had planned for you, this sounded infinitely more tolerable. You dare thought you’d suffered worse before. 

“And, one more little caveat, darling. I will bring you to orgasm, so please don’t fight so hard as to delay your release.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until his words punched you in the gut. 

“I-“

“Yes?” Alastor’s mouth was nearly on your neck, his smile ghosting your skin.

“I’ve never—- I mean I can only do that by myself. No one else has managed to-“

A large hand patted your head, cutting your train of thought off. How big was he? His hands could palm a basketball. Could he really be gentle? Was he capable of it? Were those hands going to be on you soon? Your mind was running away with the thought of this strange demon fucking you on camera. 

“Oh don’t worry about that. Just focus on your performance. We have to put on a good show!”

Angel was practically chewing his fingers off as he watched the crew finish the set.

“Alastor what the fuck, I thought you were gonna help her!”

“I am, my effeminate friend. Have a little faith in me.” He adjusted his bowtie and took his place on set.

“I have none. I have negative faith, Alastor. Fuuuuck”, Angel slumped against the wall behind him and sank to the floor. 

The stage was set. A red sigil was painted on the floor of a cabin, candles lit around the room as the only source of light (except the stage lighting hanging above the scene). Of the three walls they’d made, the far left wall had an altar haphazardly filled with flowers, a golden bowl, and small plaid satchel.

Someone — something? — led you by the restraints to the stage. Blindfolded, you were pushed down to the floor, forced to sit on your still numb legs. The leather cuffs on your wrist were unbuckled, allowing you to flex your hands. When you reached for the blindfold a hand smacked at yours.

“No no, keep it. I want you to look exactly how I found you.” The familiar voice of Val instructed. 

Someone handed a script to Alastor, but he pulled his hands away from the demon as if the paper itself was an angelic weapon, “Oh, no thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

“I’ll tell you what to say” Val said, clearly to you.

“It’s—- it’s fine. I’ll just do it like before. I don’t need any help.”

You really didn’t.  There was no improv needed. You could repeat exactly what you said yesterday evening when you awoke on the floor of an unfamiliar place. You’d been visiting your aunt one moment, and alone in a weird room what felt like moments later. Groggy, but alert enough to know something bad had happened. 

You heard “action”, and then silence. You could feel eyes on you.

“Aunt Sara….” You whispered. “I don’t understand what’s happened… Are you still there?” You rubbed your wrists trying to regain some blood flow, readjusting your legs to do the same. 

You heard a strange sound, both yesterday and now. 

“Aunt Sara isn’t here. She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.” The way Alastor said it, the way his breath seemed to almost hitch, surprised you. Something cold touched your ankle, causing you to flinch, “But I want more than that. I need more than that.”

You felt that something-unknown snake up your leg toward your center. Crawling backwards on your butt to create some distance you collided with the altar. The golden bowl rolled to the edge and spilled its contents across the table. You could smell the iron tang of blood before you felt the pitter patter on your shoulder. Alastor inhaled quickly before letting the air back out with as much control as he could manage.

“Who are you?!” You’d asked this already. But this time the disembodied voice of your captor replied, “Alastor, the Radio Demon! Pleasure to meet you.”

The right side of your face smacked against the floor of the makeshift cabin as you were dragged suddenly across the room and into the red sigil. The cold appendage on your leg now tightly coiled up your calf.

“No— you have to fuck her with your fucking dick! You can’t use shadow tentacles!” Val shouted, nearly falling out of his chair.

“Now now, the deal didn’t specify with what, only that penetration must occur. Plus, I won’t show up on your video recording device anyway.” Alastor took several steps back, ensuring he was not in frame, “Rest assured, your audience will know it is me.” His words cracked and stuttered like someone had changed the station midway through his sentence.

A small, “fine, whatever.” was grumbled and the scene continued, the tentacle snaking its way up your thigh as Alastor chuckled softly at how you flinched against him.

You rolled onto your stomach and tried to kick off the shadow but it held firm. Letting out a groan you used your hands to drag yourself back towards the altar. Before you could reach the table your other leg felt the pressure of a new tentacle twist around your knee as you were dragged back toward the Radio demon once again.

Your nightgown was forced up, your ass now exposed and in the air as your legs were pulled open. That was as far as you had really gone yesterday, before a flash of light delivered you into the Pentagram City studio. 

Surprisingly, you felt embarrassed, self conscious knowing there were other people in this room. But as if he could read your mind, or perhaps just noticed the tremble in your legs, Alastor softly said, “It’s only us now, darling. There’s nowhere to hide.”

Third and fourth appendages appeared around your waist and neck. Effortlessly your hips were lifted off the floor, your cunt on full display to the man who now owned you. The tentacle on your neck slipped between your shoulder blades and pressed your chest firmly to the floor. You squirmed and struggled against the restraints but only accomplished to draw another chuckle from Alastor.

“Relax. We have forever, after all. We can take our time.”

You felt pressure at your entrance, and your pleas to stop were cut short as a shadow tentacle pushed its way inside you. It was cold, but quickly began to warm as your heat enveloped it. Your body was resisting it, too tight to take it all in one thrust, but you could feel it slick against your lips easily enough to make its way inside.

“Ooh, my dear, your wet little cunt betrays you.” He cocked his head to the side, antlers doubling then tripling in size, “Have my words affected you so much?”

You could feel the tentacle’s shape shift slightly inside you as if it were adjusting to you and not the other way around. True to his word, there was no pain except from the burning stretch of your hole against the girth of his shadow self.

Hissing, you thrashed against the sigil, “get OFF OF ME!” Pushing against the floor you barely got your shoulders an inch off the ground when you felt a nth appendage graze sloppily over your clit. You stilled, suddenly remembering your end of the deal. Your promise to the demon now circling your clit with his shadow. If you couldn’t do this, then the entire filming was for nothing.

“Don’t forget to breath. I can’t have you dying on me just yet, sweetheart.” The static was slowly building in the air around you again, a silent threat.

Your hand shot to your mouth, trying to smother the depraved sounds being fucked out of you. The tentacle in your pussy was now ramming against your cervix, curving and bending as it repeatedly forced its way in and out of you. The room was quiet, except for the slick, sticky sound of the tentacle coated in your fluids pulling nearly completely out of you before smashing back in. The pace was slow and cruel, but the pressure on your clit was fast and hard. Your mind was starting come undone, your thoughts splintering. You couldn’t focus on anything anymore, all over your body was pressure, pleasure, massaging, pushing, and pulling. 

“Ah ah, that won’t do.” Alastor practically sang the words as an appendage pulled your hands from your mouth and brought them to the small of your back. 

You whimpered, trying to find a balance between the overstimulation and the need to not let them see how much you were getting off on this. You needed to hate it more. Hate him more. Your cheek stuck to the wood of the floor as drool leaked from your open mouth, unable to keep it closed any longer. 

“I’ll—” Your strength was nearly gone, but you managed to knock your upper body around the sigil, smearing the still wet blood across your chest. You only managed to whisper into the flooring a quiet, “I’ll fucking kill you for this.”

The tentacles stopped, for a second you felt tears sting your eyes at the loss of friction. A loud screech made you wince, but you had no time to question it as your body was violently flipped. Your hips were slammed down onto the ground, held tightly by a tentacle around your waist. The back of your head ached as it was jostled in the turn. The shadows on your thighs now seemed determined to bruise you as they constricted around your skin. 

“What was that, dear?” The tentacle in your pussy seemed to swell inside you, the force of the thrusts picking up in intensity. He was ramming into your body with such fervor you felt the skin of your ass chaffing on the wooden grain beneath you.  “Speak up, now”, you heard him exhale forcefully, his controlled appearance hanging on by a thread.

“I-”, your mouth opened to continue your resistance when a new sensation stopped you. A second tentacle was trying to squirm its way into your heat, just above the now uncomfortably thick one twisting around inside of you. The pressure on your stomach from the force made you feel sick, but the devoted ministrations on your clit had your legs twitching against the restraints. “Ah–! no, wai-” It managed to slip itself into you, and with no hesitation it was pressing against your g-spot in a matching rhythm to the tentacle swiping over your swollen clit.

You’d never before made a sound like the one that was pulled from your throat. It was ugly and animalistic and took you by surprise. Still struggling to catch your breath, you threw your head back. You were losing control. As your body was rocked against the ground, the blindfold got caught in the friction and slipped down your nose. 

Bringing your head back up, you finally locked eyes with your new master. 

“Alas-” Another chilly tentacle came to your neck and began to lightly squeeze. You could only breathe out the rest of his name as your eyes met with his. He stood some feet from you, just outside of the sigil, barely on the set at all. He seemed nonplussed, antlers looming over you and suit perfectly neat, except one detail. His pupils dilated when you finally set your eyes onto his. The grip on your neck only stopped tightening when you stomped your foot down in fear of passing out. You didn’t break eye contact, a fire burning in you that told him no matter what he did you wouldn’t be broken. That look in your eyes, the contempt mixed with overwhelming pleasure made Alastor shift one foot in front of the other in an effort to better conceal the erection straining against the zipper of his pants. 

“Mmmhhh–” You finally broke contact as your eyes rolled back into your head, the pressure beneath your belly was building, a tightness threatening to snap. But this wasn’t like before, this wasn’t like when you were alone in your bed with your own hand. It felt like too much, your heart was pounding so hard you thought you’d really die. There was no way your body could continue this much longer, your heart would surely give out.

“Please–” You needed him to stop, the ghostly hand on your throat, the two tentacles pressing against your cervix and g-spot, the unrelenting pressure on your clit. It was too much, it was too sensitive. “I’m sorry, please. Pleeea-” you gritted your teeth, thighs twitching as the muscles in your core tightened.

“Going to cum, my little doe?” Through gritted teeth of his own Alastor asked you as if you had any choice in the matter. He forced your knees up to your shoulders, allowing the tentacles to reach new depths. 

“AaaaHH” You convulsed, “I’m yours, Alastor!” You moaned, willing to say anything to stop the overwhelming feeling as the coil snapped, you were orgasming on this demon’s shadow and for the love of all that was unholy he wouldn’t fucking let up. You did what he said, but he wasn’t stopping. His thrusts didn’t slow, your clit was throbbing and your body shaking uncontrollably. All defiance was dead, your fire snuffed out. Your eyes were glazed and unfocused. Your head hit the floor again as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight, “It’s all yours. My soul is yours! Please- sto-” Another orgasm was being fucked out of you, no recovery from the first. “I can’t, I can’t” Your jaw locked, the way your cunt was spasming and tightening around his shadow appendages nearly pushed them out of your body with the strength of your first forced orgasm. The lights in the room flickered and popped, the candles blew out with a sudden gust, static drowned out your voice from everyone but Alastor as you screamed through the second orgasm. A green light erupted from the smeared sigil beneath you, blinding the crew and onlookers. “My body is yours! My soul! It’s all yours. I give you all of me, Alastor! Alastor!!” Your vision went spotty, and your throat seemed to close around your voice. Your face was red with the strain of your orgasm. You’d never felt unrelenting pleasure like that before and in that moment you’d have given him absolutely anything he wanted from you. Everything. It was his. You were his. He owned you inside and out.

The bullying of your cunt finally calmed after your orgasm began to edge away, your breath no longer stuck in your throat. He didn’t stop, but he slowed down to a lazy pace as what few lights managed to survive flickered back to life. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you looked over your wrecked body to Alastor. His eyes were wild, his bangs damp and clinging to his forehead. His smile was manic, sinister almost. He looked truly demonic. A wave of fear carried a chill down your spine.

The tentacles withdrew, the sudden loss making you feel colder somehow now than before. They had taken on your own heat and matched your temperature so perfectly, now your body felt empty. You felt naked. Your cunt was still clenching, but around nothing at all. It felt…like something was missing now. Your body seemed to be upset at the loss of contact. It made your stomach turn.

You flinched when the radio demon approached you, but instead of tearing you to pieces like his grin had promised, he slipped his suit jacket off and laid it over your body. You hadn’t realized the dress was torn and lying beneath you in a wet pile of blood and sweat. The confusion must have been evident on your face, because Alastor’s appearance shifted. Antlers now small, if not tiny between his ears. His eyes a red and pink, lids half closed. His smile was just a line across his face, no teeth at all. He looked like a gentleman, had you not known what he had just done to your pussy you’d have thought him incapable of such impropriety. 

“Good job, my little doe.” He whispered before you were handed a glass of water by a tall stranger. 

“Wow, you’re kind of natural at this babe. I haven’t seen a performance like that in ages.  Are you okay?” You took the water from him but didn’t open your mouth to reply, instead transfixed on his appearance. You’d only seen Val and Alastor until now. “You can call me Angel. We’ll get you home soon. I swear.”

Your eyes flitted to Alastor’s, did he know? He must have, he must have felt it. Of course he knew. In those final moments, you hadn’t been acting. Not an ounce of your pleasured responses were disingenuous. Not a single word a lie.

Alastor helped you to your feet as Angel placed a robe over your shoulders. Alastor hummed as he put his jacket back on, a satisfied sound coming from his chest that almost sounded like a song. 

Val sat in his director’s chair with his legs crossed, mouth open. His cigarette was mostly ash, delicately lingering on the stub.

Alastor placed a hand on the small of your back as you were guided to the door. Looking over his shoulder he grinned to Val, “It seems our deal is done here, Valentino. She’s mine, in perpetuity.”

(Part two)

༻Masterlist༺

[randomalistic]

I think instead of outright rejecting all instances of AI, we instead need to critically think about What exactly we are gaining from using it and what experience we may be losing as a consequence

Use AI to do a bunch of painstakingly tedious scientific work for medical research? Valid use (ex. Protein folding software)

Use AI to summarize a the chapter of a book? Well I mean, you could. But what if you could’ve learned a new word? What if taking the time to immerse yourself helped you relax? What if reading the exact sentences as they were written by the author made you more emotionally invested?

and of course we’re pushed to strive for pure results because the US lives in a capitalist pressure cooker society obsessed with constant productivity and we are given less and less time to do things outside of work.

By using ai you might not even fathom what experiences are being robbed from you. Because 99% of the time, the process is the most valuable part of learning, never the final product.

I feel like this argument can be applied to all technology at this point, which is when it sort of becomes a slippery slope. But it’s undeniable that smartphones and social media have already consumed our social lives and made irl interaction less meaningful and less frequent. The best social interactions I’ve had were during a power outage, or other instances when I was ripped away from electronics. I’m not ready for AI to take away our sight of everything else. It terrifies me. But deep down I want to hope. I know that no matter how bad it might get in the future, we will rediscover ourselves time and time again. Humans have a certain tendency to break free

[sp00pypumpkins]

This is how I feel Zero would met player HAHHA, they werent prepared to face an adult human per se XD.

Au belongs to @asamary!

I am going to rant a bit about it under the cut.

He uses they/he pronouns

He is slightly smaller than catnap

So Zero was just in a intership for a short period before he found the truth and wanted to out it but they got him and turn him into a toy! When he found the truth he met the prototype but his fascination of gadgets and mechanism was stronger than feeling fear XD

He can produce energy via his emotions and on his own will if he is in good shape, he met the critters soon after, he was in charge of the time for movies or shows and story telling. His knowledge in mechanism made him be able to have more dinamic storytelling using tricks with lights and such.

Zero then loses their temper electrocuting a scientist not on purpose trying to stop them for taking more kids, in wich the scientist take notice and take him to the labs in wich he got experimented more and amplifying his production of electricity.

He then kept being experimented while being plugged to the facility providing electricity to a portion of it. He became a living generator.

The prototype then offered them to be part of the hour of joy by the promise of revenge and freedom and no more pain, he accepted and shut the facility down from electricity and closed the doors from many places trapping everyone inside.

Now this is where the the au and canon takes different paths

Since in canon Zero gets deceived by the Prototype and was kept as a generator for the prototype (basically he will still be used as a generator by the prototype) the prototype would carve a mouth in the shape of a smile on Zero so he can feed. Zero dislikes him after being betrayed.

In the au since the prototype just killed the scientists and the bad people, Zero is very loyal to the prototype and helps them finding the more bad people by hacking security cameras or websites, but he stays in the town most of the time.

In the au Zero lives in the basement of the aparment the critters live in (if they are in a building and not just a singular house lmao) He produces the energy of a portion of the city, if he doesnt their electricity would go hirewire, he just plugs himself at night and acumulates the electricity in the generators.

If there is a storm and ther ei s apower outage he can easily feed the building, you just need to wake him up and tell him about it.

Zero has 6 minicritters of themselfves in wich some are patrolling and some are around him, they are like security cameras in a way

They go around fixing a lot of stuff around town specially electronics,

He likes to create gadgets, toys or artwork from metal, thats why he would go to the dupmster zone to search for parts and bring them home, they find admiration how the prototype can dissamble an object to create another so he looks up to the prototype like a teacher.

He is usually in the background doing mundane fixes there and there, because he was isolated and the only contact was when they experimented on him, he gets veyr anxious around adult humans but with time you can see he is just a silly guy who adores affection he just doesnt know how to handle it yet.

I like to think they are the guy whom people go when something gets broken or need assitance with.

I really couldnt stop thinkning about the au, its 2 am but I probs forgot things.

If ya dont mind I shall keep doing lil comics about this au with my oc in it qwq

Now just a wip of a future ref I am making

Some fun facts:

He dislikes being touched in the back

The Prototype helped zero gain a mouth and get unplugged from the cables since it was a tedious and careful task.

The minicriters have different shapes (i forgot to put the x body marks on the square anthena minicrtitter :()

Simple shape on anthena= complex shape on body and vice versa.

He can speak human language very soflty but it feels off for him specially if he talks for to long it starts to hurt. (He normally talks in gibberish like puppycat from the show :D)

The stronger the emotion the more energy he can produce

If there are tvs plug on them or he touches them, he can comunicate with those using memories and replicating the voice from that memory (is like doing a collage of different voices and images in a tv) he can also project their dreams on tvs

He is very light

The scarf/coat is attached to them like part of their body.

They are protective of their friends he isnt very strong but will fight for them

He gets sometimes ghost pains in their back, the scale of pain depends of the day

ANYWAYS thats it me thinks I shall make lil comics about all the facts and other stuff other times qwq

If u read everything, thank you and hello! Hope u have a good day :D

Also sorry about the grammar and writting english is not first language and its 2 am HAHAHA

They have a hard time hidding how they really feel because the color their anthena, eyes and stars may change by how he feels

He tries to always stay calm and with right composure but he is actually very emotional, he just had learn how to manage the emotions

[xomakara]

Elevator

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You and Wooyoung are stuck in the elevator with nothing to do but talk. But when you are awfully aware of how close he is, you can’t help but act on your urges.

PAIRING | Wooyoung/Reader

GENRE | non-idol!Wooyoung, smut with no plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up everyone!), fingering, oral, vaginal sex, elevator sex

RATING | Mature

LENGTH | 2593 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE | On the shorter side but still smutty~

ATEEZ Main Masterlist

"Nononono. This can't be happening." You ran a hand through your hair, sliding down the walls of the elevator as it stopped moving. The lights were out and you could barely make out the figure of the man who stood next to you.

Of all days to get a power outage!

"Freaking out like that isn't going to make things better." The man muttered, his voice low and calm. "Breathe deep. Count to ten. Do something productive. Shit. I forgot what to do when things go bad."

He added, not sounding at all sincere.

You didn't need him to tell you to breathe; you'd been doing so since the lights went out in the first place. Your heart was pounding and the sweat on your palms made them slippery. The whole situation was just freaking bizarre and the adrenaline pumping through your body wasn't helping either.

You knew you had a bad feeling when you woke up this morning as you struggled to get out of bed. All your work clothes were in the laundry hamper, a lightbulb went out in your bathroom while you showered, you ran out of coffee and there was nothing left to eat for breakfast besides half an apple that had turned brown overnight.

On top of all that, the bathroom mirror showed that the faint lines around your eyes were more pronounced than usual.

And now you're stuck in the company's elevator with that very attractive employee in your department, one who is probably pissed off that he can't find anything to do while trapped here too.

"I knew I should have called in today." You muttered, burying your face in your hands. "This day couldn't possibly get any worse."

"How worse could it be?" The man asked, looking slightly annoyed but also amused by the sight of you bawling your eyes out on the elevator floor. He took a few steps forward before stopping again, taking another deep breath. "It's just a power outage after all. It happens every now and then."

"True enough." You agreed, raising your head to look up at him. "I just can't believe I'm stuck here with you."

"What's wrong with being stuck in an elevator with me?" He laughed.

"Not funny, Wooyoung." You frowned. "God, I can already hear all the other ladies in our department talking shit about me. Why do I always get myself into these situations? Like I haven't got enough problems as it is."

"I mean there's one way we can deter the shit talking." He smirked, gesturing at himself suggestively.

You groaned and shook your head. You really needed to get out of here soon or else your colleague was going to try to make a move on you and then you'll be really fucked. Not that you weren't interested in the idea, but you've heard some horror stories from friends who hooked up with co-workers and most of them ended badly.

You glanced around nervously, wondering how long the power outage would last and how long you'd be stuck in this elevator. You wondered if they'd think of any contingency plan if they realized how much time had passed since the lights went out. Maybe they'd sent maintenance to fix it? Hopefully someone will come soon.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Wooyoung asked, sinking to the floor next to you. His legs crossed and his arms resting casually on his knees. "Having second thoughts about making a move on me?"

"I am not trying to make a move on you, no matter how attractive you may be." You mumbled. "Are you really sure you want to know what I'm thinking?"

"I have been told I have good hearing." He grinned, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "Go ahead and tell me. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

"Just being in this elevator is making my anxiety go up the wazoo." You sighed, sitting back against the wall.

"That's why I'm trying to distract you." He said with a shrug. "So, you really want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"I've just had such a bad day." You sighed. "I struggled to get out of bed this morning. All my work clothes were in the hamper, the light bulbs went out during my shower, I didn't have any breakfast except for a stupid apple that turned brown and I ran out of coffee this morning. Everything seemed to conspire against me this morning and..."

You took a deep breath and stared down at your feet, knowing that if you looked at him, you might let yourself get carried away. Wooyoung squeezed your hands gently.

"This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. I've always got my shit together, but today, everything seems to fall apart. One after the other." You muttered.

"Y/N, don't feel embarrassed about having bad days. Everyone has them." He murmured. "Sometimes life can be cruel and unjust, leaving us to struggle with burdens we never thought we could carry alone. It happens to the best of us."

"Maybe." You sighed. "But sometimes you wish that sometimes those bad days wouldn't happen at all."

"Well, we can't always get what we want, right?" He smiled gently. "But if we accept reality as it is, rather than as we wish it to be, perhaps we'll feel better and cope better with whatever life throws at us."

"Who are you and what have you done to the cocky Wooyoung I work with?" You let out an amused sigh. "Is it possible to see two sides of a person at once? Because I definitely saw a different side of you today. Thank you for being nice to me."

"Oh come on, it's nothing special." He waved his hand dismissively. "But I'd like a kiss as payment for comforting you. That's if...you want to."

You looked at him, eyes taking in his handsome face. His messy hair, slightly tousled from always running his hands through them. Those eyes that made you weak in the knees. The lips that were dangerously close to yours.

"Do you want to kiss me?" He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side.

There was a moment where neither of you moved, staring deeply into each other's eyes until finally Wooyoung leaned closer and pressed his lips against yours softly.

The soft kiss surprised you, making you pull away slightly. But Wooyoung didn't seem fazed by it and instead he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. You returned the kiss, brushing your lips against his before pressing your mouth more firmly against his.

Your lips parted slightly as he continued to press kisses to your lips, opening wider as his tongue slid along the seam of your mouth, exploring every corner until finally parting to allow him entrance. He tasted faintly of coffee, which made you wonder if he drank a cup before he came down here, but his taste was still pleasantly sweet.

"You know I could care less about what our coworkers would say about us." He muttered against your lips. "I only have eyes for you."

His words, along with his closeness and the scent of his cologne filled your senses and slowly your breathing became deeper, almost as though your lungs were expanding and pushing the air inside even further. The electricity flowing between you caused goosebumps to rise on your skin, spreading all over your body as his hands tightened their grip around your waist.

As much as you wanted to deny it, his lips and his touch were sending sparks of pleasure shooting across your skin and a warm sensation rushed to your core.

"Wooyoung..." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly. You felt his lips graze your jawline, before moving lower to nip at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine and your knees began to weaken, causing you to lean back against the wall behind you.

"Y/N..." He whispered, nibbling at your neck before he began to suckle your earlobe. "Do you want me to stop?"

The question caught you completely off guard and you opened your eyes to stare into his. In the dim lighting of the elevator, your pupils were drawn into his dark eyes, which seemed to have gone darker, taking on a darker shade.

"No." You breathed, leaning in to press your lips against his.

And Wooyoung seemed equally affected by your kiss. Before you could blink, his hands reached up and grabbed the sides of your face, pulling you towards him so that your lips met once more.

With every kiss, the intensity grew and soon you were lost in the sensations coursing through your body. When he pulled away slightly to give you a chance to catch your breath, your breath hitched and you licked your lips before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

The man in front of you was no longer the Wooyoung you usually worked with. Instead, he looked like a man who knows exactly what he wants and won't hesitate to take it.

"Don't stop." You breathed out, Wooyoung lifted you in his arms. His face darkened with desire and his breath came out in shallow pants as he gazed down at you with hunger in his eyes. "Please..."

He dropped to his knees, lifting your skirt and tugging your panties aside, revealing your pussy. It was slick with excitement and arousal and you felt your breath quicken. The sight of your cunt getting wetter was arousing and thrilling, as he looked up at you expectantly.

Before you could stop him, he slipped two fingers inside your pussy and began to stroke you, bringing out small whimpers of pleasure. He continued to slide his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with such skill and control.

Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, feeling weak from the pleasure he brought you and you sank back against the wall, needing something to hold onto. He didn't need to be told twice and quickly placed his hand under your knee, bringing it to rest on his shoulder, his face now buried between your thighs.

You let out a gasp when his tongue began to lap at your clit, teasing it and making it throb with pleasure. You closed your eyes and tilted your hips upwards, allowing him better access to your center. Your hips bucked erratically, driving his tongue faster, while his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

He hummed and thrust his tongue harder against your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You started panting heavily, sucking in your bottom lip as he began to finger fuck you in earnest, fastening his pace. There was no mistaking it anymore. He was totally focused on pleasuring you, intent on giving you mind blowing orgasms.

The combination of the electric shocks from his fingers in conjunction with the vibrations from his tongue was too much to bear. Soon your hips began to buck violently, moaning and whimpering, driven mad by the pleasure that overwhelmed you.

"Fuck!"

It was unlike anything you ever experienced before. As you screamed his name, letting go of all control, all you could do was keep your orgasm coming, flooding his mouth with your juices until your body relaxed against the wall and he withdrew his tongue, licking the last traces of your cum from his lips.

"Holy fuck..." You gasped, catching your breath.

"Good?" He asked, kissing your inner thigh and working his way up to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips, but it only added to your arousal.

"So good but now..." Your knees went weak and you rested your forehead against his. "Now I need you to fuck me."

In an instant, he lifted you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. The position left you open and vulnerable, as he settled himself between your legs and pushed forward, burying his cock deep inside you. You gasped as you took his length fully, enjoying the fullness of him. The feel of him filling you to capacity.

Wooyoung thrust in and out of you, setting a steady pace that made you cling onto him. With each thrust, his pelvis smacked against your clit, making you cry out.

The speed increased as you leaned back against the wall, lifting your ass higher to accommodate him. Wooyoung gripped your hips, moving them back and forth with precision, hitting just the right spot. He pressed kisses to your neck, then your ears before finding your lips again.

The combination of the feel of his hands gripping your hips and the feel of his hard cock pulsating inside you, sent ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your passion.

"Oh God...Wooyoung..." You groaned, arching your back as his tongue found its way to your earlobe.

"You feel so good. I could fuck you forever." He whispered, thrusting into you harder and harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. "Can I fuck you forever?"

"Yes please...Yes. Yes.." You moaned, pressing your body tighter against his.

His moans were growing louder as he thrust into you faster and faster, matching your pace. With every thrust, his fingers dug into your hips, holding you tight against him. Every time you pressed back against him, he let out a long groan, then immediately buried himself inside you, fucking you harder and harder.

"Y/N... Y/N... Come for me..." He groaned against your ear.

It took every ounce of willpower not to let yourself cum, but his moans and the feel of his hard cock deep inside you drove you crazy and you knew you couldn't hold back any longer.

The muscles in your stomach clenched and a tremor coursed through your body as another orgasm ripped through you, leaving you trembling. Wooyoung thrust harder, gritting his teeth and growling as he came with you. The sight of him losing control and calling out your name made your heart skip a beat and make your knees buckle.

But before you could fall to the floor, he caught you in his arms and held you tightly, kissing you tenderly. You were completely spent and all you wanted was to collapse into his arms.

"I got you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

As soon as Wooyoung placed you on your feet, the power kicked back on and the elevator started moving again. The both of you let out a laugh as you fixed your clothes, making sure that nothing had fallen out of place.

"Wooyoung?" You turned to look at him, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He grasped your hand, linking your fingers together as you walked towards the doors. "Anytime."

As the elevator door opened, he let go of your hand, placing his hands on the doors and holding them open for you. He watched as you exited the elevator, giving you one last smile before he followed you.

When you got to your desk and Wooyoung to his, you were both silent, content in the fact that you had each other and no one else knew what had happened between the two of you. And when you turned to look at your phone, you saw a text from him asking if you wanted to get dinner later.

Your heart skipped a beat as your face lit up with a wide smile. The night was still young and there was plenty of time for you and Wooyoung to enjoy it together.

[lizordula]

Make Up Your Mind

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Summary: You're a makeup artist working for the documentary crew. On Halloween, you learn that Melissa's specialties include costumes and looking hot, among other things.

Warnings: mention of clowns

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: I've been sitting on this for a while, but I figured today would be a good day to post it. Happy Halloween! Lemme know if you'd be interested in a pt. 2 ^^

AO3 Link

"Places, people."

The director clapped his hands, shooing the camera crew around to take their designated places for the recording of the talking heads.

The halls at Abbott Elementary were buzzing with the Halloween spirit. Walls were elaborately decorated with spider webs, pumpkins littered every surface, and students and staff members had dressed up to the nines. Even the documentary crew spontaneously decided to film in costumes, and so it happened that there were quite literally a bunch of clowns operating the camera equipment.

You weren't sure, though, if those costumes had been the best choice for an elementary school. Turns out, a group of clowns lurking around every corner and running after staff members had a rather adverse effect on children. Not even one lesson in, and you had to console at least five crying students.

Well, and Jacob, who held up production by rambling about a janitor ghost for a good while.

On short notice, you weren't able to organize a suitable costume for yourself, so you were the only crew member in regular clothes. Makeup bag slung over your shoulder, you stood awkwardly to the side and waited for a certain second-grade teacher to show up for her touch-up. Your right foot bounced up and down excitedly at the prospect of seeing her again after the weekend.

The first time you met Melissa, she refused to let you anywhere near her face or hair, almost offended by the implication that something about her needed fixing. You respected her boundaries and said that she would know where to find you when - not if - she changed her mind. The following week, she begrudgingly had to give in to your offer.

Apparently, Janine had broken into the breaker to fix the flickering lights but ended up causing a school-wide power outage. You had to stifle your laughter when Melissa had trudged up to you before shooting, fixing you with a fierce glare that told you to spare her your 'I told you so'. She looked as if she had broken into the electrical current herself, the way her hair was all frizzed and tousled up. Her makeup hadn't fared too well either because of the sweat she had worked up during the sprint to her branzini.

The branzini didn't make it, unfortunately. But you were able to tame Melissa's red locks and, apparently, didn't do a too bad job on her makeup either, if her approving nod after she viewed herself in her phone's front camera was any indication.

After that, Melissa started warming up to you, and you sensed her respect for your work growing. But what really won her over were your compliments. You were never stingy with compliments when working on people and didn't have any ulterior motives when you complimented Melissa's hair or her eyes. However, you had to admit that she was very much your type and that you enjoyed flustering her.

To your surprise, Melissa not only returned your compliments in kind but started flirting with you as well. From then on, your comfortable banter before each interview became routine. Sometimes Melissa brought you a coffee, and if you coincidentally had a spare after she had mentioned how much she liked a product, you would gift it to her.

You couldn't deny that you had become infatuated with Melissa Schemmenti, but with the limited time you had with her before the interviews and your colleagues constantly listening in, you always backed out of making a move on her.

You were brought back from your reverie when you spotted Melissa turning the corner. Your eyes widened when your eyes roved over the redhead's costume. She was wearing a form-fitting red bodysuit with pink tights, which beautifully accentuated her hourglass figure, and a flowy red cape and headpiece finished the unmistakable look of the Scarlet Witch.

While you were ogling her, Melissa searched for you amid the bustle of the documentary crew. It wasn't hard to spot you as you stood out like a sore thumb among the camera clown posse. Her lips quirked upward when she noticed how you were already staring at her and not so subtly checking out her costume. Your obvious appreciation for her costume made Melissa stand straighter and puff out her chest as she sauntered over to you, a smile spreading on her face when you locked eyes.

"Hey, hon. No costume?"

"Nope, didn't have one appropriate for an elementary school," you replied with a chuckle, grabbing Melissa by her elbow and leading her to the side of the corridor. You rummaged around in your bag in search of her powder shade and a brush and faced her again.

"What, as in too sexy?" she grinned, crossing her arms. Your gaze flickered briefly to her cleavage being pushed up by the movement.

"No, as in 'the kids would shit their pants in fear'," you snorted, dabbing the powder across Melissa's t-zone in practiced motions. Melissa spluttered when you deliberately brushed over her lips to wipe off her smug grin. You smirked and took out a comb and the hairspray next, signaling Melissa to close her eyes.

"Besides, if sexy is inappropriate, you didn't get the memo," you continued slyly, emboldened by the fact that you didn't have to look Melissa in the eyes while you said it. When you finished, she opened her eyes and looked you up and down curiously, ready to retort, but she was interrupted by a loud groan from the director.

"Oh god, not again. Why isn't this recording?"

Melissa and you turned toward the commotion, observing multiple people scurrying around the camera equipment. Their attempts to fix the problem by pushing different buttons and adjusting cables were completely foreign to you, but this hadn't been the first time the camera malfunctioned, so you knew you had some time to waste.

"That'll probably take a minute. Want me to spruce up your makeup?" you asked, waggling your eyebrows at Melissa.

"Sure, as long as you don't turn me into a killer clown. We have 'nough of those running around," Melissa replied, playfully rolling her eyes.

"Honey, with that face? I could never," you drawled and took Melissa's hand, dragging her to the nearby supply closet where the crew stored their excess equipment. Melissa closed the door behind her and sat against a desk, her eyes glued on your behind as you bent over to retrieve something from another bag.

Her head snapped up when you turned around with some brushes, a lipstick, and an eyeshadow palette and joined Melissa at the desk. Normally, she was a bit taller than you, but thanks to her position, you were a few inches above her for a change. Melissa held eye contact as she slowly spread her legs so you could position yourself comfortably between her thighs, watching your reaction with a raised brow. You gulped at the display and hesitantly drew closer, body heating up at this newfound proximity.

"Close your eyes," you ordered hoarsely, your hand tightly gripping the eyeshadow brush, hovering it in front of Melissa's face. Melissa stared at you a moment longer with a smirk, enjoying seeing you squirm between her legs, but it was her turn to blush when you took her chin between your thumb and pointer finger, angling her head slightly to the left. Your lips quirked upward when you saw Melissa swallow hard.

Two could play this game.

For the next few minutes, your breathing was the only sound in the room while you painted a simple red crease on Melissa's eyelids. It was a comfortable silence. Your mind constantly wandered to the fact that Melissa and you were alone for the first time, secluded in a storage room, away from the documentary crew's prying eyes. A blush spread on your cheeks when you thought about how it might look to the crew if Melissa and you left the supply closet together.

You hoped to God that the blush wouldn't show on your face when you tapped Melissa's thigh lightly, signaling her to open her eyes again. You stopped her with a hand on her forearm before she could get out her phone to view the results.

"Wait, I still need to add the finishing touch," you said and leaned over the redhead to exchange the palette and brush for the lipstick you deposited on the table earlier. Melissa's heart started pounding away when your chests brushed together. Her hands instinctively reached out, resting on your hips to steady you. When you leaned back again, Melissa's hands remained.

You looked from Melissa's hands to her eyes pointedly, lips curling into a smile despite yourself, and Melissa grinned, squeezing your hips briefly to remind you that you had a job to do. Clearing your throat to refocus, you gently grabbed Melissa's jaw to keep her in place. She watched with bated breath as you uncapped the lipstick with your other hand and brought it closer to her lips.

While you were focused on applying the bright red lipstick to plush lips, Melissa's gaze traveled over your face, mesmerized by the way your brows furrowed in concentration or how you bit your lower lip as your hand lightly squeezed her jaw. When you were done, you swiped along the edge of her lower lip with your thumb, wiping away any smudges left behind by the lipstick. You locked gazes with Melissa as you did, suddenly aware of how you were mere inches apart. Your thumb brushed softly over her lower lip, and you thought about how easy it would be to lean in and steal a kiss. But you willed yourself to pull away.

"All done," you announced and let your hands fall to Melissa's thighs. Her hands lifted from your hips as she grabbed her phone to regard herself in the front camera. Your stomach fluttered when her face broke into a smile as she took in the red eyeshadow and lipstick perfectly complimenting her costume.

"I love it. Thank you, hon," Melissa breathed, gazing at you affectionately.

"I'm glad you like it. Oh, and take this. You can reapply it throughout the day," you added, handing her the lipstick you painted her lips with.

"No, I- You already gave me that concealer last week, and I-" Melissa started, but you interrupted her with a squeeze of her thighs.

"Melissa, I gave you those things because I wanted to. Please take it," you insisted. Melissa nodded sheepishly and took the lipstick from you, stuffing it inside her bra.

You glanced at the door, lip caught between your teeth.

By now, the crew had probably fixed the problem. It was time to head back out again, however, you didn't want the moment to end. This had been probably the longest time you had spent with Melissa and the first time you were alone, and you figured that if your flirting would ever amount to something, you had to make up your mind and take a chance now.

However…," you began and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for a long overdue leap of faith. "If you want to repay me, you could be my plus one at this Halloween party at Woody's tonight."

You wrung your hands nervously while Melissa blinked at you a few times, the silence seemingly stretching forever. Long enough to make you wonder whether you misjudged the situation. You took your hands from Melissa's thighs and moved to put some space between Melissa and you, but before you could step back, she grabbed you by your forearm, pulling you back toward her.

"I would like that," she smiled, brushing her thumb over your wrist.

"Uh, great," you exclaimed when Melissa's words sunk in, "it's a date. I'll text you the time and address."

Melissa nodded, and for a moment, you both stood grinning at each other, holding onto each other's hands. When you remembered that you should probably bring Melissa back, you stepped back slowly, holding onto her hand until you had to break apart, and turned around to sort away your makeup equipment. When you faced Melissa again, she was already holding the door for you.

You stopped in the doorframe next to the redhead, giving her costume a very slow, appreciative once over, and cast her a smouldering look.

"And wear this."

━━━

"Oh, I love Halloween. Best holiday by far. Disguises, crime, lookin' hot? These are my specialties," Melissa told the camera, hand propped on her hip. Her eyes flickered to you, then, and her smirk grew. The crew was none the wiser about the silent exchange between the two of you.

You shot her a wink before she left for class. A promise that you would be exploring at least one of those specialties tonight.

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 04

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 4,2k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.)

<previous part | next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: “Bucky…” You hesitated, taking a little more time to sort out what you should really say. “Helps me with some business.” You reached for the glass of wine standing in front of you and took a sip.

“Always helpful,” Rebecca sneered. You noticed that she has been passionately ignoring her brother, but until now you were convinced that this was just a mistaken impression. “And, of course, he wants the best for you, doesn't he?” She faked a smile.

The encounter with Bucky, which took place a few days ago, turned out to be a new source of worry, leaving you even more confused. Guided by common sense, you tried not to dwell on it, but every time you lost your guard and let your thoughts wander, you found yourself reliving that moment. And each time you asked yourself the same question, Why did an accidental contact lead to such a strong reaction? It wasn't that the two of you had started pawing each other; Bucky accidentally leaned against you. And then he looked at your lips to see if your body was thinking the same thing as his…

You drifted off again, and were made aware of it by the boiling kettle. The flashback of the touch immediately popped into your head like the words of a stupid song you couldn't stop humming. And although you lost your appetite for tea, you filled the cup with hot water.

Michael walked into the kitchen with a newspaper in his hands – the kind he used to bring your father every morning. With a heavy sigh, he put it down on the kitchen counter. When you peeked at him to figure out if that sigh meant he was in a bad mood, you met his gaze. Suddenly you felt uncomfortable.

“What..?” 

“Stark is becoming impatient,” Michael began. “Since your father's death, no one really controls the distribution of Stark Industries products. If this outage continues, Stark will quit doing business with us,” he said. Having taken off his glasses, he massaged his closed eyelids. Working with Tony Stark was bringing in a huge amount of money for your Family. As such, you understood Michael's nervousness – you couldn't afford to dissolve your partnership. “In view of this, we have less and less time.”

Biting your lower lip, you ran your eyes nervously over the surface of the countertop. “What about Brock?” You didn't want to consider the possibility that Brock might have turned out to be your last resort, but you knew you should be prepared for it. “Any word from Rumlows?”

Michael shook his head. “I was approached by someone else,” he added. Your first instinct was to feel uneasy, but in the end you decided to give it a chance. It dawned on you that you had to stop being picky, even though it had seemed perfectly reasonable to you up to that point. You had the right to demand to be treated right by any person you were to marry. “John Walker would like to speak to you. Without me or any third parties present.”

This was exactly what you had feared – John Walker joining in. And while he didn't seem as harmful as Brock, you didn't see him as the ideal candidate. But for all intents and purposes, you didn't see an ideal candidate in any man around. 

You swallowed hard. “Did he say anything else?”

“That he will reach you to discuss the details of the meeting.”

The conversation with Michael was still looming in your head, effectively hindering your preparations for dinner at the Barnes house. All you could do was turn up there and look good, and even that was difficult to achieve. 

A long, warm bath has improved the state of your skin somewhat – until now it was a little too dry and ashen as a result of the stresses of recent weeks. However, it regained some of its softness. You dried and brushed your hair, moisturised your face and did your makeup a little more carefully than usual, trying to cover up every little imperfection – these, too, have intensified since the burden of serious decisions fell on you. You generally tried not to complain about your appearance, but lately you haven't felt particularly comfortable in your own skin. Still, you saw the positive side in worrying about your looks – it took your mind off the rest of your problems.

The day was inexorably turning into evening, but the weather had not changed much – the temperature outside remained pleasantly warm, perfectly reflecting the deep spring. So you decided to put on a white dress with tiny flowers; it had short, buff sleeves and reached past your knees. The hard part came when you had to deal with the tie at the back; it went in a zigzag from mid-shoulders to lower back. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard a quiet knock on the door – Suzie appeared just in time. 

“I was just about to-” You looked back over the shoulder and felt a sudden wave of heat when you spotted Bucky instead of your sister. Although he'd announced to you that he was coming – this time he'd done it by text, not by standing outside your window – you hadn't expected him this early. And as much as you tried to push the memories of your last contact into some dark, forgotten corner of your mind, these blossomed with vivid colours. “I thought it was my sister.”

“I wanted to wait in the car, but she sent me here,” Bucky said, scratching the back of his head. “Need help with the dress?”

Staring at him blankly, you nodded after a while. 

“May I..?” 

“Sure.”

Bucky came closer to you, so you turned again to let him work. 

“Try to straighten the string, okay?” you added quietly. You wanted it to be as perfect as possible. 

Bucky let out a heavy breath and you felt a cool blow on your half-naked back; this in turn made you shiver, much more gently than last time. His fingers slid under the string, and so involuntarily brushed your skin. You felt him hesitate for a moment, but then his fingers moved along the underside of the string, complying with your request and straightening it out. Soon he grabbed both ends and pulled them so that the front of the dress clung to your chest.

“Too tight?” he asked, presumably having heard your sharp sigh. You couldn't tell what it was the result of – the squeezing fabric or Bucky's closeness.

“It’s okay,” you croaked and you almost immediately scolded yourself for how weak and pathetic you sounded. 

Bucky tied the ends of the string in a double bow, probably as a precaution; in case it would come undone at the least appropriate moment. He did it in silence, and although this seemed perfectly natural for such an activity, you got the impression that an awkwardness had crept in between you, which you had managed to avoid at the very beginning of your relationship.

“Done,” Bucky said, and you turned around carefully. Just as carefully, you lifted your gaze to his face. He was surveying you, possibly even more intensely than usual. For a brief moment you wondered if he too was tormented by the same thoughts as you, and judging by the slightly pained look on his face, expressing some kind of longing, you could guess that he was indeed.

“Have you heard?” You spoke after a bit longer silence. 

“About what?” Bucky didn't even for a split second seem interested in the answer that might lie beneath your question. 

“John Walker asked me on a date,” you said calmly, moreover, you were almost tempted to smile – you didn't want to give the situation unnecessary tragedy.

A corner of his mouth lifted, but that gesture had not even a hint of enthusiasm in it. He didn't look surprised or angry. You figured the news had traveled fast, but even if Bucky hadn't been aware of John's offer until now, he predicted it – he told you about it at the very beginning.

“You look really nice,” Bucky’s voice sounded so soft that your face flushed. You wanted to check if he was telling the truth, but you were unable to take your eyes off his.

“Thank you.” You smiled slightly. “I’ll grab a few things and we can go,” you added. You had the irresistible feeling that if you didn't say it – didn’t say something – the mutual gazing at each other would get out of hand again.

“I’ll be in the car.”

You left the house with Suzie. Because of your hands being occupied with a cardboard box, she closed the door behind you, then you both headed to the gate. 

Bucky stood with his back up against his car. Your knowledge of vehicles ended with the identification of brands, but even if that skill was even more limited, you would have easily recognised this one – mainly because of the distinctive wild horse logo. A thought unknowingly popped into your head that the black, vintage Mustang suited its owner.

Pulling away from the car, Bucky pushed his sunglasses on top of his head. He opened the passenger door and put the seat down, allowing Suzie to get into the back. As your sister slipped inside and the front seat returned to its place, you also got in. Bucky walked around the front of the car and sat behind the wheel, his gaze immediately falling on the box you were holding. 

“I made a carrot cake,” you explained.

He raised his eyebrows with astonishment. 

“Barnes don’t eat cakes?” 

“We do,” Bucky differed. You glanced at the way his hand landed on the stick and put it in the right gear. He threw his arm over your headrest to look at the back window, and you felt butterflies in your stomach again. “It’s just… Baking is so…”

“Yeah..?” 

“I don’t know, wifely?”

You watched the profile of Bucky's face as he focused on the road. “Is there anything else wifely in me?” 

Bucky smirked under his nose. When the car stopped at the first traffic light, he leered at you. “In you? I'd have to check.” He shrugged. “But those nightgowns you wear…” He pressed his lips together, shaking his head slowly. “Fuck,” he said almost soundlessly, as if he didn't want Suzie to hear it.

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm, and he snorted a quiet laugh.

For the rest of the way, you didn’t really talk. You were worried that Suzie might feel uncomfortable, or worse, pick up something she wasn't supposed to hear. She was nearly an adult, besides, she had grown up in the same environment as you, nevertheless, you preferred to spare her the awkwardness.

Not long after you had left the city behind, the car turned into a road along which big old trees were growing; their interlocking tops formed a kind of tunnel. At its exit was a large, green plot of land, and you couldn't really tell where it ended. The house on it – tall, with a surrounding porch and walls covered with ivy in places – was probably as old as the trees.

Absorbed in the views behind the window, you didn't even notice that the car had stopped. You only became aware of it when Bucky opened the door for you. You got out, still scanning the surroundings with your eyes, and Bucky freed your sister.

“This place…” You began, and only after a moment glanced at Bucky. He stood next to you and tilted his head slightly to the side. “It’s beautiful here.”

Bucky gave you a half-smile, and this time you could see an undeniable softness and happiness on his face. You were able to tell that he had positive feelings about his family home.

The front door – solid, heavy, with a colourful, floral stained glass window – swung almost wide open. And although you had never really met her, you recognised Winnifred Barnes in the woman who stepped out onto the porch. At first glance, you saw a striking resemblance between her and Bucky – he had her whole face; her big blue eyes, straight nose and strong jaw. 

“Y/N, Suzanne,” Mrs. Barnes beamed warmly at you and your sister. “I’m glad you could make it. Come inside.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” You handed Winnifred the package. “It’s just a cake,” you rushed to clarify, seeing the premature delight on the woman's face.

“That is so sweet of you, Y/N. Jamie,” she turned to Bucky. “Take our guests to the dining room, please.”

Having climbed the few steps leading up to the porch, Bucky joined you.

“Jamie?” you repeated, your mouth curved into a smile.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah.” He scratched his neck.

You got to the dining room, and although the number of people there exceeded your expectations, you didn't feel overwhelmed by the company. You recognised Timothy first, since you had seen him relatively recently, then Steve Rogers, as he also figured quite vividly in your consciousness. As for the rest, you weren't as sure.

You guessed that one of the young women sitting at the table, who was an almost perfect, and certainly the most faithful copy of Winnifred, was Rebecca Barnes. There was an infant on her lap, banging a spoon on the table top and bursting into laughter after every sound. Rebecca, most likely used to this kind of noise, didn't pay much attention to it; she was busy talking to the person sitting right next to her. This time you assumed it was Josephine Barnes. In fact, you were even sure of it, mainly because of the similarity she shared with Winnifred, Bucky and Rebecca. She only had slightly softer facial features and a not-so-piercing gaze; you also noticed the visible tan.

You almost missed the last one – with her nose in a book she was the least conspicuous. Mary, you guessed. You recalled that she was not much younger than your own sister.

“You okay?” Bucky asked quietly, and it wasn't his voice that revived you, but his fingers hooked on your elbow. You felt electricity radiating from that spot.

Before you had time to reply, something crashed into your legs and embraced them tightly. You looked down, where you spotted a little girl with a grin that missed a few teeth. 

“Hi!” She exclaimed. 

“Hi.” You couldn’t help but smile, too. 

“Oh, Daisy,” Rebecca groaned, clearly embarrassed by the child's behaviour. You therefore concluded that Daisy was her daughter. “Stop that.”

“It’s all right,” you declared immediately. 

Still, Bucky crouched down and pulled the child away from your legs, and this little fuss threw you into the spotlight. Everyone at the table stopped whatever they were just doing and focused on you.

“Jamie brought home a girl?” Josephine asked with surprise and a kind of hope. “How long have you been together?” 

“Is that your girlfriend?” Mary joined the conversation. “Oh, she’s pretty.”

You pressed your lips together in a slight smile; you hoped to avoid becoming the main attraction, on the other hand, you could breathe a sigh of relief – your efforts to make your appearance tolerable had paid off.

“Alright, that's enough.” Bucky gave his sisters a threatening glare.

“They are not a couple,” Timothy, sitting at the head of the table, spoke, drawing everyone's attention. “As far as I know,” he added, raising his eyebrows. “Y/N,” he said to you, his friendly smile didn't match the mysterious expression on the rest of his face. “Sit next to Steve. I insist.” 

You led your eyes in that direction. Indeed, there were two empty chairs between Mary and Steve – probably for you and Suzie. “Of course.” You nodded politely and made your way to that seat, peeking at your sister to check on her. Steve rose and pulled back a chair for you, and once you had taken your seat, you glanced at Bucky confused; Timothy's request seemed more than a little odd to you.

Bucky clenched his jaw. Previous experience allowed you to recognise when he wasn’t pleased, and that was exactly what he looked like at the moment.

Winnifred also appeared in the dining room. As the lady of the house, she sat at the other end of the table. Soon after, the first dishes were served and the room filled with sounds of conversation. The men were talking about baseball, then boxing, and although Bucky was actively involved in the discussion, he seemed a little distracted. Whenever you glimpsed in his direction, you caught him staring at you – you could see that he was a bit disappointed, perhaps even resentful, and there was something dark in his eyes; as if the sea in his irises was hit by a storm. Especially when Steve included you in a conversation, smiled or laughed at something you said.

Winnifred asked about your gallery, the upcoming exhibition, and about Suzie's school. She praised your cake. In exchange you learned that Mary was studying for her biology exam even at dinner, Rebecca had expanded little George's diet – the baby previously sitting on her lap – with more fruit, and Josephine had returned to New York on a short break from her college. 

You were worried that you would feel uncomfortable here, especially as Timothy separated you from the only person you knew, but the atmosphere in the Barnes home was like a warm, safe hug. Even Suzie found common ground with Mary, so you didn't have to be concerned about her comfort.

“How did you two meet?” Josephine asked, and when you looked at her without understanding, she nodded discreetly at Bucky.

“Oh, but we-”

“Yeah, I know.” Josephine waved her hand dismissively. “But I'm interested in every detail. I can't remember the last time Jamie brought someone home.”

You plastered a slight smile on your face, knowing that it wasn't Bucky who invited you here, but his mum. “Actually, we met through your uncle,” you answered. You didn't want to spoil the mood with the subject of a funeral or an arranged marriage. “Bucky…” You hesitated, taking a little more time to sort out what you should really say. “Helps me with some business.” You reached for the glass of wine standing in front of you and took a sip.

“Always helpful,” Rebecca sneered. You noticed that she has been passionately ignoring her brother, but until now you were convinced that this was just a mistaken impression. “And, of course, he wants the best for you, doesn't he?” She faked a smile. 

“Rebecca, honey-” Winnifred interjected softly, and when she did, the table fell silent.

“No, mom.” She shook her head, as if that would prevent Mrs. Barnes from getting a word in edgewise. “It's not fair that some random girl can sit here with us and the father of my children can't.” Tears of anger shone in Rebecca's eyes. “Excuse me,” she said, then got up and left the room. 

You felt guilty. Not because you may have actually taken an undeserved seat at the table, but instead of shame or anxiety, you were intrigued by this unexpected burst. You took another sip of wine.

“What happened to mommy?” Daisy asked. 

“Nothing, baby,” Winnifred told her gently. “She’ll get better.”

With suspicion, Daisy turned her head at Bucky. “Is that true?”

He pressed his lips together in a pale smile. “Of course, Junebug. Cross my heart.” Bucky put his hand on his chest. “How about we watch ‘Finn and Jake’?” He suggested with theatrical excitement, which Daisy shared immediately – she nodded eagerly. “Yeah?” Bucky grinned again, more relaxed this time.

Daisy ran up to him, grabbed the hand he had held out and dragged him out of the dining room. Bucky glimpsed at you, giving you an apologetic look.

Josephine leaned out and laid her eyes on you. “I’m going for a smoke, wanna join?”

Josephine led you to a gazebo in the garden. As she said, she offered you a cigarette, and you both leaned against the railing. The evening gloom was dispelled by the lamps on the lawn and the lighting inside the gazebo; it was getting unpleasantly cold outside, but you preferred the low temperature outside to the tense atmosphere at the table. 

“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I don't want you to think that my sister is some spoiled bitch,” Josephine began, and you looked at her rather blankly. You didn't want to show too much that she made you curious. “His name was Robbie. The father of her children, as she called him,” she said with distaste. “He was part of the Family. Jamie recruited him, so the whole thing still bothers him. And Robbie was a fucking asshole from the beginning. He spent late nights in bars, gambled all their money away, hung out with other girls. When Daisy was born, it only got worse. He complained that Becca was neglecting him. Didn't help with the baby, disappeared from the house more often and for much longer…” She continued. “Rebecca's only problem is that she has a soft heart. She never said a bad word about Robbie, but everyone knew what was going on. She thought another baby would change him, that it would fix their relationship, but…” Josephine shrugged. She took a puff, and for a brief moment said nothing, staring into nowhere. “So Jamie got rid of him.”

Your brows drew together involuntarily. “What do you mean..?”

“No one knows what really happened to Robbie. He vanished into thin air and never contacted Becca again.”

You felt like a child who had just heard a blood-curdling ghost story. Actually, you only felt that way partly – on the other hand, you were even more fascinated by Bucky. “Well…” You sighed, shaking the excess ash off the end of your cigarette. “He did what he thought was right,” you commented. This time, too, you preferred to be careful, thus not claiming out loud that Bucky had done the right thing. 

“Not according to Becca. She's better than she was at the beginning, but it's still a touchy subject for her.” 

You finished your cigarettes in silence, and that silence helped you to sink into your own thoughts; to see Bucky in a slightly different light.

“Are you sure there's nothing between you and Jamie?” Josephine spoke, a teasing smirk on her face. “I saw the way he looked at you the whole dinner. I know my brother, and if I were Steve I would keep my distance from you,” she giggled.

Your lips twitched in a slight smile. You noticed it too, and although you weren't the only people at the table, you secretly hoped you were the only ones aware of what was going on.

You could have talked to Josephine about it; told her that Bucky had no right to be jealous. You were strictly focused on marrying someone and Bucky excluded himself at his own request. You could have shared all this with Josephine, thereby taking some of the weight off your shoulders. But you didn't want to involve her.

“I’m sure,” you said. “It's strictly business between him and me.”

“Speak of the devil.”

Following Josephine's gaze, you peeked over your shoulder. Bucky was heading to the gazebo. Having caught your eyes, he smirked softly. You struggled to take your eyes off his face and lowered them to his hands – he was holding a piece of cloth that you couldn't identify in the darkness. Only when Bucky got under the roof of the gazebo did you notice that he had brought a sweatshirt. Moreover, he put it gently over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you murmured, surprised at the gesture, and glanced at Josephine. From the expression on her face, you were convinced that she wanted to say, So there's nothing between you two, right?

“You sneak out to smoke?” Bucky addressed his sister, his forehead creased. “What are you? Sixteen?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Josephine rolled her eyes.

Bucky reached out his hand, so she handed him the packet and the lighter. With a cigarette between his lips, he looked stunningly – more rough and intimidating. 

“I'll leave you two alone,” Josephine suggested, grinning. She pushed herself away from the railing, and you two watched her leave.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves of the sweatshirt and wrapped yourself in it, discreetly inhaling the familiar scent. You looked at Bucky, and he again gave you a gentle smile; it reached his eyes as well. However, it faded soon after.

“I’m sorry about before. Becca-”

“I had this conversation with Josephine,” you stopped him. “I know what happened and I get it. I don't blame her for reacting the way she did. Anyway, she was right. I’m some random girl who-”

“You are not,” he protested immediately. His mouth set in a hard line as he was staring at you. “I-... I like you, Y/N.” 

Taking a sharp breath, you looked away. You shook your head in disbelief, tried to ignore the fact that your heart was beating harder than you would have wished. “I like you too, Bucky, but I can’t fall for you. I don’t want to.”

Bucky took his eyes off you only to put out his cigarette. Then he moved a step closer to you and hesitantly reached for your hand. You closed your eyes, then fixed them on his fingers – he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, and you didn't protest. 

“I know,” he rasped. “But I just need to protect you. So please, let me protect you. Okay? Because I feel like everything is getting out of my control. And I’m fucking tired of it.” 

You raised your gaze to his eyes. He glared into them pleadingly and with some kind of fear, as if your rejection would shatter him into a million pieces. You nodded slightly, unsure if you really did; if you really agreed to fall under his protection.

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leakingston

[grizzlyofthesea]

To everyone in the northern hemisphere, especially those of you who live above the Tropic of Cancer:

Winter is coming.

Make sure you're adequately prepared for the cold weather. Here are a few things to keep in mind.

Dress for the weather.

Even if you insist that you're uniquely cold resistant, you're still just a human. Protect yourself. Wear long sleeves, thicker fabrics, multiple layers, and sturdy shoes. Make sure you have a good winter coat. Keep protective pieces handy to cover other parts of your body--hat, gloves, scarf, etc.

Stay hydrated, both inside and out.

Remember to drink enough water and other healthy, hydrating fluids. A hot cup of tea or hot cocoa can go a long way in warming you up, too. Also, remember to practice good skin care. The cold, dry air in winter leeches moisture out of your skin more quickly than you'd think. Moisturize regularly. Exfoliate every so often to clear the buildup of dead skin. Apply lip balm as needed to prevent chapped lips. If you decide to try any new skin care products, check the ingredients for known allergens, and test them on a small area of skin before applying everywhere in case of unknown sensitivities.

Anticipate the unusual.

Remember the disaster that happened with Texas' power grid in 2021? The damage caused and lives lost were unexpected and devastating. As climate change continues to alter weather patterns worldwide, we need to remember that "the worst" can always happen to us, no matter how unlikely it may be. Be prepared for emergencies of all types.

Have a plan for potential power outages.

Power outages can be outright lethal in harsh weather. Be prepared in case one happens in your area. If you have a generator, make sure it's working properly. Maintain alternate sources of light and heat, like lanterns, candles, and fireplaces. In the event that you need to leave your home and temporarily stay somewhere else, plan an efficient route to your destination.

Limit your time in the cold.

Proper clothing is a great protective measure, but sometimes, it just isn't enough. If the weather is especially bad, only stay outside as long as you need to. Frostbite is no joke; stave it off however you can.

Save enough time to de-snow and defrost your vehicle before driving.

Freeing your vehicle from its icy prison can really cut into your commute. Get out the door a few minutes early so you can prepare without rushing. Having a snow brush and an ice pick in your vehicle is great for speeding up the process, too.

Watch out for cold weather hazards.

Ice can trip even the best of us. Black ice is almost invisible on roads. Snow squalls severely limit visibility. Certain wildlife can pop up unexpectedly; for example, West Virginia and Pennsylvania are hot spots for deer-related vehicle accidents at this time of year. Stay alert no matter where you are.

Set aside some time for self-care.

Winter can take a toll on your mental health. The cold, the extended darkness, and planning for the holidays are all notable stressors. Slow down and take care of yourself as needed.

Stay safe out there. :)

[amphibizzy]

bluesky functions among a lot of false positives in all aspects of both moderation and curation. a net is cast, there is bycatch, and those get appealed/manually reviewed. a curation or moderation list should only cover an amount of users their own staff can handle basic vetting and appeals of, and thats generally the case for trusted ones. lower stakes things happen in curation, like say a feed that pulls posts mentioning "hylics" and tagged hylics, accidentally netting posts about Gnosticism and not the funny rpg game. manual removals/exclusions or inverted keywords is the work that must go into it

there are several current attack vectors, for example actively turning stuff like follow4follow trains into honeypots (where the followed account is then rebranded and its followers shamed or put on a list alongside it, worse people nuke-block everyone who follows it) and "mistakes" in untrusted, malicious labels/lists. this is a likely, malicious-user-driven reason why a large pattern of people could be roped into a fast moderation decision which is cleaned up in post there are users who make the platform more functional and there are ppl who make it worse. both have nearly the same tools, which are decently powerful but can be slow to update or have short outages

i wrote too many thought tags and then had even more thoughts so im gonna readmore here. i just wanna be productive in the decision if whether or not u wanna deal with joining and curating bluesky and its all interesting to me. yap yap

example: possible that the child safety bans picked up some people who were maliciously added to certain lists that then get targeted for reports

that but also *POTENTIALLY* some could be the maga ppl making fake trans etc accounts- deliberately infiltrating and trolling and being put on horrible subject lists willingly. there are also certain Harassment Websites who are currently targeting users in mostly alternate ways. it could also straight up just be people finding a list of a kind of person and mass reporting everyone on it

that is happening- just not sure if its part of it. the point is that there is a lot of bad actors

i have LIGHTLY looked into it and am not stating fact, but because of this context i think its is extremely reasonable that the ppl caught up in the bans are mistakes via user-driven malicious action, especially with the appeals that have gone through so far. theres so many things that are just kinda frontline messes that could be taken out of context. I DO NOT DOUBT THAT I COULD BE WRONG so dont be annoying @ me if i am. theres still info i wanna talk about in here but the whole platform is more complicated than the moderation ppl here are used to which ranges from fuck all to some awful shit. even here, a specific recent shitty tumblr ban wave had an extra shit layer of false positives, and i personally saw successful appeals of those.

on top of all of this, bluesky was gaining a million users a day for a bit there (and im shocked its functioning as okay as it is), theres no way any of this is gonna be perfect for awhile, and its going to look bad. but i think its worth continuing to curate if you dont have a need for a platform like bluesky, then no pressure to go there. i do personally consider tumblr and bluesky to be the two peaks rn. insta maybe a lesser if ur already established (but eugh, lol) bluesky is similar to twitter in structure but with easier curation (fully understanding the difference between each type took me a hot minute lol), plus a user driven effort to vibe reset from twitter by pulling away/cutting off combative interactions, muting and blocking instead of butting heads, more and noticeably less hostile interactions everywhere i look.

and imo feeds to organize your own posts is huge, not as easy to pass through like tumblrs archive but far better than nothing. ill b making a few categories of my art into feeds

just hesitate a bit before getting scared away from another basket to put your eggs bcs of some secondhand info. look into it because it could be interesting. bluesky doesnt cut off logged out users (another plus) so you might be able to look into things directly

update from me 10 mins later: i went to take my own advice lol and i found a relevant official statement from one hour ago

[becomingkatie]

I'm doing pretty terribly.

I'm sad about Theo. I'm extremely anxious about some things at work. My mom and her boyfriend were here this weekend, which meant I didn't have that time to either decompress/relax alone or do productive things to ease the anxiety.

Today I travel to San Diego for work. I get home late Thursday night and then Friday I go down to my cousin's wedding and return Sunday. We can't leave Theo with a catsitter since his condition is worsening, so Ken is skipping my cousin's wedding and I have to go alone, so I'm flying instead of driving 8+ hours alone each way. Money, but it's the right call. And then we have one week at home together before we have to travel to another wedding. And that is the week we'll put Theo down. Honestly, we would have done it sooner, this week, based on his condition and quality of life, if I didn't have to travel. But he'll have his dad here working from home and snuggling him and loving on him so he'll be okay for another week.

It's just thing after thing after thing, and all the while I'm about to go into a meeting where I feel like the customer is going to be annoyed the analysis results are what they are and yell at me for it. And my mom and her boyfriend live near Brevard, NC. They left yesterday (originally planned to stay until today but I lowkey pressured them into going home early because I could not have houseguests stay until the moment I had to leave for the airport myself) and google location sharing stopped updating their location yesterday evening a ways out from their house. I'm trying to convince myself it's just because of internet/cell service outages and that they're fine, but I keep having visions of them in a ditch because they felt like they had to drive home on unsafe mountain detour roads because of me.

I do not have the worst life, or even anywhere near the worst life, but I am having a really really bad time right now and it really fucking sucks.

[curly66entrepreneur]

Progress Update #2

What is Working

Still finding there are plenty of things to do

Incorporating some organizational components such as using TRELLO to begin to create Boards/Lists/Tasks under the Curlly On A Motorcycle (rebranding of Curly66)

Will less direct clear ‘do this’ type direction starting to realize and develop some day to day tasks as part of both upkeep and moving forward with COAM

Add something to the Etsy site

Write some to copy for Etsy site

Write at least one idea/brief outline for future Youtube, Social medial post

Realizing that “Time” is something that I have to take some control of but at the same time not pressure myself too much about to the point of stressing (see what is not working)

As with previous week or two transitioning to the second part of the course – that I am being steady (and for the most part not procrastinating) with the work.  I am enjoying studying and learning something new

Developing a growing interest in Entrepreneurship in general 

Have subscribed to Entrepreneur online newsletter and Money Makers (a weekly online publication from Entrepreneur magazine)

What is not working

Major area of work and changing my mindset as well as actionable things is around asking others for help.  

Email to dealerships not effective and instead of trying to refine these I need to get out and see more people.  

“Excuse” for Saturday was huge power outage in the city.  

PLAN:  

Create document of all the worries, wishes, thoughts etc around talking with local motorcycle dealerships

Refine this document – clear structure of some ideas to structure a meeting, questions to ask, attitude to take etc

Calendar → go

How I feel the project is coming

Feels like ‘Slowly’ but part of this is anxiety as well as developing a plan of action and being active along the way. 

Trying to give myself encouragement (more than negative criticism)

There is more visible change and development in my Etsy story this week compared to last

The major slow point for me has been getting to speak with motorcycle dealerships about myself, course, company and product.  (see above)

What I am learning about running a business

This ‘entrepreneurship thing’ can be engrossing, invigorating, stressful, tiring, a reason to get up, a reason to need sleep.  These all seem a bit dramatic to be sure – however I am still enjoying the adventure.  Trying not to put too much pressure onmyself to be “successful” as short of profits I am not sure what this means yet.

Same points as last week – A big part of the reason I might make the choice to develop as an entrepreneur with my own small business is because there is some untapped passion, need, curiosity and desire to spend my time doing so in something I feel all these things about.  

There are challenges, anxieties, uncertainties, a sense of unknown, of being an ‘imposter’, and ‘not good enough’.  These still come up but am finding that there is so much to DO, so much that is actionable in terms of learning that I can refocus and do one of  those things whatever it is. 

Using these positive emotions and combining them with a focus on learning, understanding and developing the skills and ‘expertise’ (while still being a beginner) make it is possible to keep moving forward.

What I am learning about myself

Trying new things is invigorating.

I am not only capable of doing something new and out of my comfort zone but that I can enjoy this along the way and have it bring new aspects to my life.  

Still facing some old ways to being with people – worry I will make them uncomfortable;  fear of hearing “NO” and what that means.  

Also that the work “No” is not a bad word (reading about this in the context of Negotitation however will need to put that into practice and hear a few (or many) nos and work through those hearing them as opportunities. ex) “what about this doesn’t work for you and how would change things?”

Reframing the way I approach people (such as potential partners, advocates, helpers, collaborators – motorcycle dealerships)  in a so far imagined and not yet adopted new way of being is so difficult for me.

[ghosthoodie]

Kaity Eighty Story and Facts

LORE POST GO

Early Life/Childhood

At the beginning of her life, her infant brain was aptitude tested and was confirmed to be in the 90th IQ percentile or higher, and was soon whisked away from her parents at the young age of 5 hours old. All documents surrounding her birth and existence were destroyed, and she was soon to be habilitated in military school.

Growing up, she didn’t necessarily have friends, but brothers and sisters she would rely on. She had an aptitude for taking things apart and putting them back together, such as pencil sharpeners and mechanical toys. Her teachers became aware of this, and transferred her into an engineering program, with an emphasis in machinery. 

Messing with machines for assignments was probably the happiest she was in her childhood. She stayed in school until about 14 years old, where she graduated and was soon assigned to the Side Order project.

She was in charge of designing life-sustaining and oxygen producing machinery for the fallen dome, utilizing the nuclear power that was present.

With the sudden influx of Zapfish, the project was prosperous and a young Kaity was making great progress.

However, Zapfish would soon begin to disappear as the events of the first Splatoon occurred.

Splatoon 1

Kaity was really close to figuring out a solution to safely connect the nuclear power to power oxygen production, enabling a solution that would require minimum monitoring and could possibly be applicable to all the domes.

This would revolutionize life in the domes, as an infinite power source for oxygen would be a miracle for a civilization so reliant on electricity.

However, just as she was about to hit save, the Zapfish that powered her section of the project was ripped from its socket, and everything was shot for power for a while before the backup electricity kicked in.

Kaity had lost everything. About 2 years of work, calculation, research and scripture was lost in just a simple outage.

Needless to say, a young Kaity was fucking furious.

She went up to her manager and demanded to be relocated as a military force to find whoever did this and to make them PAY.

Through propaganda, she would discover Agent 3 was the one ripping out the power. She decided to set her sights on Agent 3.

Splatoon 2

After a lot of demanding and determined requests, she was transferred to the armed forces.

There, she met Kirakira, a young octoling who wasn’t sure what to do with himself, so he applied to the most basic of forces.

Kaity and Kira would begin to grow a powerful bond. At one point they would even say they were brothers.

Finally, when their basic training was complete, they were assigned together to an area where members of the NSS had an interest. An unstable area on the mountains.

On their first day on the job, it didn’t take them long to spot a 17 year old Sicily.

Memories flashing before her eyes of the lost files, she began to fight with Sicily, much to Kira and Sicily’s dismay because of the unstable conditions.

As such, the surface they were fighting on began to crumble, and eventually gave out beneath the three of them.

Octo Expansion

Octo Expansion.

Kaity forgets everything prior! Yay no more file bloodlust!

When she heard the Calamari Inkantation, she developed an extreme longing for the surface.

At this time, everyone called her Hachi, but her accent made it sound like Aachi, which prompted the nickname.

After finishing the campaign and defeating Commander Tartar, the OTH helicopter immediately transports everyone to the NSS Military Hospital. Kaity, Kira and Sicily are treated for injuries.

Left without a memory of everything prior, Kaity feels extremely bad for an injured Sicily. She stays by her side constantly.

Marina begins to teach Kaity and Kira a little Inklish. Kaity is way more receptive to the lessons than Kira is, but Kaity is happy to translate for him.

She’s also a huge Squid Sisters fan and freaked out during Sicily’s big genetics reveal.

After Sicily was discharged from the hospital, Kaity stuck with her to help take care of her.

Kaity begins to learn more about life on the surface, and begins to fall in love with life. And eventually… with Sicily.

Sicily cracks her egg and she realizes she’s a girl, and changes her name from Aachi to Kaity Eighty.

After Sicily feels better, she sticks around to help with rehabilitation training.

SO much romantic tension during spar sessions dear god. These girls should kiss and commence yuri (they do)

Splatoon 3

At a NSS going away party for Sicily and the Squid Sisters to go to Splatsville, Kaity proposes and the girls are engayged.

She gets employed at Ammo Knights as a Weapons Consultant and Modifier. She’s popular for weapon repairs and being a design assistant for Grizzco weapons.

However, she would soon be assigned to return to the Side Order project for the Side Order campaign, due to areas near the project’s location above ground becoming dangerous and polluted.

Originally only she would go with Off the Hook, but Caroline insisted on tagging along with her.

She would go for a month and then return for a visit to Splatsville. During that first month she still had an internet connection, and was able to keep in contact with her friends and family.

However, when she returned to the Side Order campaign, contact would be cut for her, Caroline, and Off the Hook.

Currently, she’s been separated from 4 and Marina, and she’s exploring an illusion of Inkopolis with Pearl.

[abarbaricyalp]

WIP Game

Thanks for the tag @funsized-loser !!!! Please, everyone who wants to add on to this post, feel free! I love reading people's WIPs! This is from the next (hopefully) fic I'm posting! I'm so close to finishing it, I can almost taste it. It's called Tell It To The Bees (and the birds)

There was a bulletin board in the lobby of the building, across from the bank of mailboxes. It was supposed to be for building wide notices–fire inspections, water outages, that kind of thing. Mostly it was full of passive-aggressive notes about the cleanliness of the dog park and the fact that trash bags weren’t supposed to be left in the hallway for any length of time.

Bucky thought about leaving a note inquiring towards the bird coop, but he 1) didn’t want to get someone else in trouble and 2) more importantly, didn’t want to get himself in trouble. He reread a note about someone on the third floor who apparently habitually burned things in the oven as someone stood at the mailboxes.

“Hey, 203,” they called over.

Bucky startled slightly and turned around. His bland, friendly smile fell away as he realized who was there. “Wilson,” he greeted through his teeth. “I thought you worked Thursdays.”

Sam Wilson was in 205, the unit that shared a bedroom wall with Bucky’s bedroom. It wasn’t that Wilson was having rough, hot sex and reminding Bucky that he wasn’t. It was just that Wilson made a million other noises all through the night and then had the audacity to leave notes on Bucky’s door about singing in the shower.

Well. And there was the time Bucky accidentally kind of ruined their shared pipes by washing hair product down the sink. But that was an accident!

“It is definitely Friday,” Sam snorted. He continued to dig in his mailbox, freeing a large envelope that had been rolled and folded to fit into the small metal tray. “Hey, I’ve had gumbo stewing all day, if you wanna come over for dinner,” he added.

That was another thing he had the audacity with. He was always inviting Bucky over like he was some orphan to feed. Bucky didn’t even remember what off-handed, one-time remark he’d made about something smelling good before Wilson was all over him with invitations. It was so underhanded when they already clearly had a rivalry. Bucky could cook. He kept himself fed. Just because everything Sam made really did smell so damn good didn’t mean Bucky was always looking for food.

“Uh, no, thanks,” he said. “I’m actually on my way out to a ther–” Bucky cut himself off. He knew Sam worked at the VA as some kind of counselor, but that didn’t mean he wanted his nemesis to know just how deep his issues ran. Not that therapy was a bad thing. For, like, anyone else. Bucky was different. And Sam would know that. Sam would know exactly what kind of fucked up Bucky was. “I’m going out with friends.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and made a show of checking the watch he always wore. “At four in the afternoon? I can leave it on the stove a while longer. Come over when you get back.”

“Not really the kind of night where I’m planning on coming back,” Bucky lied.

Judging by the way Sam’s eyebrow rose even higher, he also clocked it as a lie. “Alright, man. Don’t gotta brag. Have fun or whatever.”

Bucky nodded, tripped over his feet when he couldn’t decide if he should be going to the building door or back to his apartment. Sam did an admirable job of hiding his snort.

“Later, 203,” he called over his shoulder as he ducked into the stairwell.

Bucky banged his head against the bulletin board and cursed his whole damn existence.

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Nerves frayed in Canada and Mexico over US trade relations (BBC) As Americans prepare to vote for their next president, Canadians and Mexicans are watching on nervously. The two-way trade of goods between the US and Mexico totalled $807bn (£621bn) last year, making Mexico the US’s biggest trading partner when it comes to physical items. Meanwhile, the US’s goods trade with Canada in 2023 was in second place on $782bn. By comparison the figure for the US and China was $576bn. Mexico and Canada’s future trade with the US could be impacted if Donald Trump wins the US election. This is because he is proposing to introduce substantial import tariffs. These would be 60% for goods from China, and 20% on products from all other countries, apparently including Mexico and Canada. By contrast, Kamala Harris is widely expected to maintain the current more open trade policies of President Biden. This is despite the fact she voted against the 2020 United States Mexico Canada Agreement (USMCA) free trade deal, saying it didn’t go far enough on tackling climate change. Trump and Harris have “starkly different visions for the future of US economic relations with the world”, said one study in September.

Inside the Last-Ditch Hunt by Harris and Trump for Undecided Voters (NYT) Vice President Kamala Harris and former President Donald J. Trump are carrying out a virtual house-to-house hunt for the final few voters who are still up for grabs, guided by months of painstaking research about these elusive Americans. Inside the Delaware headquarters of Ms. Harris’s campaign, analysts have spent 18 months curating a list of which television shows and podcasts voters consume in the battleground states. Her team has assigned every voter in these states a “contactability score” from 0 to 100 to determine just how hard that person will be to reach—and who is best to deliver her closing message. The results are guiding Ms. Harris’s media and travel schedule, as well as campaign stops by brand-name supporters. For instance, the movie star Julia Roberts and the basketball great Magic Johnson earned high marks among certain voters, so they have been deployed to swing states. At Mr. Trump’s headquarters, in South Florida, his team recently refreshed its model of the battleground electorate and found that just 5 percent of voters were still undecided, half as many as in August. The Trump team calls them the “target persuadables”—younger, more racially diverse people with lower incomes who tend to use streaming services and social media. Mr. Trump has made appearance after appearance on those platforms, including on podcasts aimed at young men.

A Nationwide Blackout, Now a Hurricane. How Much Can Cuba Endure? (NYT) The lights came back on Sunday night in Lidia Núñez Gómez’s Havana neighborhood—the first time since Friday morning—so she rushed to use her electric cooker to save the frozen chicken legs and pork her son had sent her from the United States. Meat is scarce, the power was sure to go out again soon, and Ms. Núñez, 81, needed to keep food from rotting. Her daughter, Nilza Valdés Núñez, 61, fury in her voice and tears in her eyes, took stock of months of power outages, plus food and gas shortages. With a hurricane slamming the eastern coast of the country and a four-day blackout that plunged the entire country into darkness, she summed up the past few days like this: “super bad.” “The lack of electricity, of gas, and all the other problems we have here,” Ms. Valdés said, pausing to weep, “make you feel bad.” Cuba, a Communist country long accustomed to shortages of all kinds and spotty electrical service, is in the throes of a crisis so severe that experts say it threatens to explode into social unrest.

Peru’s ex-president Toledo gets more than 20 years in prison in case linked to corruption scandal (AP) Peru’s former President Alejandro Toledo on Monday was sentenced to 20 years and six months in prison in a case involving Brazilian construction giant Odebrecht, which became synonymous with corruption across Latin America, where it paid millions of dollars in bribes to government officials and others. Authorities accused Toledo of accepting $35 million in bribes from Odebrecht in exchange for allowing the construction of a highway in the South American country. Odebrecht, which built some of Latin America’s most crucial infrastructure projects, admitted to U.S. authorities in 2016 to having bought government contracts throughout the region with generous bribes. The investigation by the U.S. Department of Justice spun probes in several countries, including Mexico, Guatemala and Ecuador.

Once You Try a Four-Day Workweek, It’s Hard to Go Back (Bloomberg) Germany’s brief experiment with a four-day workweek is over, but for many of the businesses that participated, there’s no going back. “I don’t want to work on Fridays anymore. I just don’t,” says Sören Fricke, co-founder of event planner Solidsense. “Friday has actually become the third day of the weekend. You only work if there is no other option.” Solidsense is one of 45 companies that participated in the six-month trial, during which employees worked fewer hours but still received their full paycheck. In the end, 73% of the participants said they’re prepared to make the change permanent or extend the experiment.

Putin Brings Together Economies He Hopes Will Eclipse the West (NYT) After Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the West imposed sweeping economic sanctions, cut its access to the global banking system, and sought to isolate Russia diplomatically from the rest of the world. But President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia is determined to show the West that he has important allies on his side. This week Russia is hosting the so-called BRICS group—which stands for Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa—in a gathering of emerging market countries. The meeting, which begins Tuesday, has expanded this year to include Egypt, Ethiopia, Iran and the United Arab Emirates. Its wonky name notwithstanding (it was coined by a Wall Street banker in 2001), BRICS now includes countries representing almost half the world’s population and more than 35 percent of global economic output, adjusted by purchasing power. The conference is intended to present a hefty showcase of economic might but also entice new countries into a coalition Russia hopes to build that would form a new world order not dominated by the West.

King Charles III ends first Australian visit by a reigning British monarch in 13 years (AP) King Charles III ends the first visit to Australia by a reigning British monarch in 13 years Tuesday as anti-monarchists hope the debate surrounding his journey is a step toward an Australian citizen becoming head of state. Charles and his wife, Queen Camilla, watched dancers perform at a Sydney Indigenous community center. The couple used tongs to cook sausages at a community barbecue lunch at the central suburb of Parramatta and later shook the hands of well-wishers for the last time during their visit outside the Sydney Opera House. Their final engagement was an inspection of navy ships on Sydney Harbor in an event known as a fleet review. Charles’s trip to Australia was scaled down because he is undergoing cancer treatment. He arrives in Samoa on Wednesday.

Hug it out, but make it quick. New Zealand airport sets time limit on goodbyes (AP) Emotional farewells are a common sight at airports, but travelers leaving the New Zealand city of Dunedin will have to be quick. A new three-minute time limit on goodbye hugs in the airport’s drop-off area is intended to prevent lingering cuddles from causing traffic jams. “Max hug time three minutes,” warn signs outside the terminal, adding that those seeking “fonder farewells” should head to the airport’s parking lot instead. The cuddle cap was imposed in September to “keep things moving smoothly” in the redesigned passenger drop-off area outside the airport, CEO Dan De Bono told The Associated Press on Tuesday. It was the airport’s way of reminding people that the zone was for “quick farewells” only. But passengers need not worry unduly about enforcement. “We do not have hug police,” De Bono said. Visitors might, however, be asked to move their lingering embraces to the parking lot, where they can cuddle free of charge for up to 15 minutes.

Blinken heads to the Middle East for the 11th time since the Gaza war (AP) Secretary of State Antony Blinken is heading again to the Middle East, making his 11th trip to the region since the war in Gaza erupted last year and as Israel steps up attacks against Hezbollah in Lebanon. The State Department said Blinken would depart Monday for a weeklong trip to Israel. His other stops are likely to include Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, officials say. Since the Hamas attacks in Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, and the Israeli response, Blinken has traveled to the Middle East 10 other times seeking an end to the crisis. His previous trips have yielded little in the way of ending hostilities, but he has managed to increase aid deliveries to Gaza in the past.

Israel’s wars are expensive (AP) On top of the grievous toll in human life and misery, Israel’s war against the Hamas and Hezbollah militant groups has been expensive, and the painfully high financial costs are raising concerns about the long-term effect of the fighting on the country’s economy. The Israeli government is spending much more per month on the military, from $1.8 billion before Hamas started the fighting by attacking Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, to around $4.7 billion by the end of last year, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute. In the three months after Hamas attacked, Israel’s economic output shrank 5.6%, the worst performance of any of the 38 countries in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, a group of mostly rich nations. The war has inflicted an even heavier toll on Gaza’s already broken economy, where 90% of the population has been displaced and the vast majority of the workforce is unemployed. The West Bank economy has also been hit hard, where tens of thousands of Palestinian laborers lost their jobs in Israel after Oct. 7 and Israeli military raids and checkpoints have hindered movement. The World Bank says the West Bank economy contracted by 25% in the first quarter.

The fear, loathing and excitement surrounding AI in the workplace (AP) Artificial intelligence’s recent rise to the forefront of business has left most office workers wondering how often they should use the technology and whether a computer will eventually replace them. Those were among the highlights of a recent study conducted by the workplace communications platform Slack. After conducting in-depth interviews with 5,000 desktop workers, Slack concluded there are five types of AI personalities in the workplace: “The Maximalist” who regularly uses AI on their jobs; “The Underground” who covertly uses AI; “The Rebel,” who abhors AI; “The Superfan” who is excited about AI but still hasn’t used it; and “The Observer” who is taking a wait-and-see approach.

[sharama]

Yesterday:

Co-manager man: so I heard you are gonna help me with the "burgers with the boss" :)

Me: yall need to postpone this "bUrGerS WiTh tHe BoSs" thing since it gonna be raining 😭

Co-manager man: nah its OK I'll use a tent or umbrella :)

Me: 🥴🫠 ok

Later right before safety call:

Closing co-manager lady: 😭 I hope power doesn't go out

Me: I do 😌

Her: noooo loki don't say that

Me: it can go out for the next hour and 15 mins I have left of my shift then it can come back on. 😌😌

Co-manager man: lmao

Co-manager lady: no power outage at all Loki don't jinx it please 😭😭😭

Me: 😌 we wouldn't have to be on the safety call👀

Her: 😭

Anyways

We had a really bad storm come through the Houston yesterday afternoon. Like funnel cloud spotted in Cypress. Some people had windows blown out.The clouds where I was at had turned to a funny green colour and it was SUPER rainy and windy. Like a good portion of my apartment complex has damage from the winds/trees falling etc. I luckily had no damage. There is no power.

I had called my work to see if they had power. They do not. Let them know I'll be in once my phone charges. And roads clear up a bit.

I feel like we are going to lose a ton of product like the last time we had lost power like this. Right before inventory too 🥴😭😭😭😭