#sent my ass to space heaven

[lynxfrost13]

hii bestiee gaymer asks for u :3 34, 37, 40

HI BESTIE <3

34. Funniest gaming moment.

For me it’s when I was playing survival Minecraft and for once decided to try a mode that wasn’t peaceful. There was a sinkhole with a waterfall near my base so I went down it to explore and within three seconds of being in the dark I heard an iconic hiss sound, turned around to see a creeper, shrieked, and did a fuckin pirouette ass twirl right up that water fall and sprinted all the way back home. Minecraft is not for the faint of heart…

37. Kill, Fuck, Marry (choose three characters)

Ohhhh… I’ll pick Warcraft hoes. Kill Turalyon, Fuck Azshara, Marry Tyrande (that is my wife)

40. Best game cover art.

Again I’m so fuckin biased but

WoW Dragonflight cover art just feels very good to me

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 2

one || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ hinata, bokuto, kuroo ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, hinata’s is SUPER long lol mild objectification, bo and kuroo’s are criminally the shortest ones i’ve written so far ugh (but they get the point across), and I think that’s it :D

notes: first of all, can i just say THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH ♡♡♡ i did not expect that headcanon to blow up, so i will do my very best to make the following ones just as juicy and entertaining for y'all :))) special thanks to @melanatedkink for helping out with this, she helps bring out my inner whore lol hope you guys enjoy !!

notes ii: didn't want the situations to get too repetitive, so these may take me a little longer for the other characters i do in the future, but i appreciate the love and patience for the series thus far !!! you guys are awesome

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy

HINATA knew all about the list. Being the social butterfly he was, it would be impossible for the topic not to come up in conversation, especially since a lot of his friends were on it. He found it interesting, to say the least, but never really took the whole thing too seriously. It was just for shits and giggles after all, right?

During a water break in the gym, Hinata aimed for his mouth while squeezing the bottle. Most made it inside, but the rest dripped down his chin. Thinking nothing of it, the spiker used the bottom of his jersey to wipe his face dry, be it water or sweat. And even though it was for a split second, it was more than enough time for the damage to be done to the hearts of those chilling up by the railing on the first level. Beneath the LEDs, in all their sinful glory, were Shoyo Hinata’s nipple piercings. 

The gates of heaven have opened, and the choir sings a hymn. But, along came Satan, as he rubbed his seedy hands together in mischief. The groupies were shellshocked and knew they must alert the masses, eyeing their prey all the way until the end of practice. This caught the attention of a certain blonde setter, who brought it to Hinata’s attention right off the bat as they cleaned up the court.

“Oi. Don’t wanna alarm ya or anythin’, but…those spectators up there been eye-ballin’ you for quite a while. Could be trouble.”

The tangerine gave a confused grin, looking over his shoulder in their direction. Sure enough, their eyes never wavered, not even after being caught. However, he merely shrugged it off. “It’s probably nothing.”

Atsumu hummed, skeptically. Though, he didn’t push it any further.

Once they were dismissed and sent to the showers, by the time Hinata was done he'd be the only one left in the locker room. He had to take his time and be extra careful not to bump his piercings, still kinda sensitive. Kageyama offered to stay behind so they could walk back together, "HINATA-BOKE, HURRY UP BEFORE I LEAVE YOUR SLOW ASS IN HERE."

But, Hinata politely declined. "SUCK A DICK, BAKAYAMA. I'm going over [_____]'s tonight, so go on ahead!"

With a nod, the stoic setter took his leave. "Cool. Tell 'em I said hey. See you tomorrow."

"See ya tomorrow!"

And then, all was quiet.

The only sounds filling the space were the running water, his humming, and the flickering overhead lights. When he stepped out with a towel wrapped snuggly around his waist, Hinata heard the sound of his phone ringing in his bag. His tired expression soon melted into joy at the cheesy love song he used as your ringtone.

Pressing the answer button, Hinata greeted you with his face all in the camera, and a bright, "Hi, [_____]!!~ You here already?"

Your eyes were on the road but you grinned, adoringly. "Hi, Sho. And, no, almost there though. I stopped by the canteen to grab some dinner. Know how hungry you get after practice."

"Mmm, starved. You're an angel, angel."

Staying on the call as he changed, the two of you conversed about each other's day as normal. However, when the topic of those groupies eventually came up, it instantly made you tense. Even though most of his fans were harmless, there were still a few rotten apples in the bunch that made you wary. "God, don’t tell me they asked you to spike their ass like a ball again."

Hinata snorted, throwing on a clean shirt, "That wasn't me, remember? That was Sakusa-san. Never seen him look so horrified." You laughed, having recalled. "But, according to 'tsumu-san, they hardly took their eyes off me tonight.”

“That’s old news, babe. Those vultures are always watching you.”

“Not always-”

"ALWAYS." You affirmed, pulling up to the building. Parking outside the doors, you teasingly said, "We can continue talking about how wrong you are in the car, I’m outside. And hurry, the food's gonna get cold."

"Yes, boss," he chuckled, gathering up his things. Throwing the duffle over his shoulder, Hinata made haste for the lobby, making sure to turn the lights off behind him. “See you in a minute, sunshine.~”

With that he hung up, walking with a spring in his step. He had a surprise for you, and couldn’t wait to finally show them off later. Now that the piercings had healed enough, Hinata couldn’t fight the obscene images clouding his mind of all the things you’d do once you saw them. It made him dizzy just thinking about it…

Unfortunately, someone would beat him to the punch. Or, more specifically, something.

‘Shoyo Hinata. 5’6ft sweetheart, and a ball of energy who’ll light up any room he walks into. He may look all innocent, but clearly, we’ve been underestimating him. Kinda has everyone wondering what other piercings he may be hiding…and where.~ What he may lack in height, he makes up for in girth. Expect to go for several rounds back to back, ‘cause he’s got STAMINA. This man will also be very vocal—Talk you through an orgasm, how good you make him feel, dirty-talk, begging, you name it—He is BIG on communication. He's also a cuddler, after-care will be disgustingly sweet, and pillow talk will be a must. 100/10.’

Wow. You suspected those parasites were up to no good, but never would’ve expected this. The picture attached to the thread was of your boyfriend, mid-air from blocking a ball, with his arms straight up. As he was coming down, his shirt was coming up, exposing his whole torso. It was a little blurry, but whoever took the photo zoomed in enough to where you could easily make out the silver on his nipples.

You pursed your lips, uncertain on how to feel. On one hand, you were kinda annoyed they, let alone the whole campus, got to see them before you even knew about them. But, on the horny hand…

“Hey, gorgeous!” Hinata exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts. He had opened the back door, and threw his bag on the seat before eagerly joining you in the front. Leaning across the console to give you a kiss, he was taken aback when you stopped him, placing a finger on his lips. “Mmm?”

You gave him a blank look, making him a little nervous. He was just on the phone with you and things were totally fine, what could’ve possibly changed in the five minutes it took him to get to the car? Hinata didn’t have to ponder for long, though. Not when you used that very same finger to hook around his collar, yanking it downward. He yelped, pulling away in the last second, but his reflexes couldn’t save him this time.

You confirmed it with your own eyes now.

“I uh—…T-Those are…,” he spluttered, scratching his cheek. You happily watched him squirm, arms crossed with a knowing grin on your face. Hinata sweat-dropped. “I-I was gonna t-tell you, I swear, but I wanted them to heal a little before I did, so that you could…”

“Could what, Sho?”

His face was pure vermilion. With a huff, Hinata whined, “How’d you even find out? I had a whole thing planned and everything! Was it Bakayama? Did he tell you?? Dammit, I knew I should’ve asked someone else to come with me to the appointment!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Kageyama. I told you so, those vultures are always watching.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you later. For now,” you reached over again, this time with both hands as lithe fingertips slid underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, trailing up the smooth skin until you brushed against the perked nubs. Hinata twitched, immediately biting back a moan as you began teasing them at once. If he got any redder, he’d surely pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Luckily, it was also rushing elsewhere. “Let’s hurry and get you back to mine’s, hm?"

"...S-So I uhn," he keened when you lightly tugged on one, hand reflexively grabbing your wrist, but not to stop you. His eyes fluttered as he let you feel him up as much as you pleased, mouth hung open as he began panting like a dog. "...I take it y-you like them, then?"

"Oh, baby, I love 'em. Best investment ever, honestly. Can't wait to put them in my mouth," you sighed dreamily, gently pinching to elicit a moan from the ginger. Music to your ears. From the look on his face, he could probably cum from this feeling alone. You pulled away at the thought, smirking as he instantly began protesting.

"Aht, not so fast, we still gotta eat. But, don't worry. You'll get your dessert."

Homie nodded so quick, you were sure he gave himself whiplash. Adorable.

By the end of a very long night full of debauchery, you eventually told him about the list and how exactly you found out about the piercings. And you know what? He couldn’t even be mad. At least it wasn't Kageyama.

“Oh! He says ‘hey’ by the way.”

Now, BOKUTO thought he knew about the list. But after the whole…misunderstanding with Akaashi, it turned out he knew absolutely nothing. Granted, how he felt about it didn’t really change after his friends spent over an hour explaining it to him. If anything, it fueled his distaste for it even more. When he showed up on your doorstep looking absolutely distraught, fat tears rolling down his face as he proclaimed his unwavering devotion to you, you only needed one guess. 

‘Kotaro Bokuto. 6’2ft of GAWD DAMN. He's sweet, confident, and R E S P E C T F U L?? We love a triple threat. Not to mention how MASSIVE he is, and don’t even get me started on his ass. Would literally be unable to keep my hands to myself, just saying. Like how you see him dominate the volleyball court, the same could be said for the bedroom, without a doubt. Bokuto loves to give, but he’s also a taker. Definitely gives off Switch with service Dom tendencies. Plus he’s greedy. He doesn’t care if you already came four times, give him some more!!! ∞/10. He is beyond the standard. Argue with the wall.’ 

You remembered reading it while taking a break from studying, merely brushing it off. It was only a matter of time he’d end up on their radar, you had prepared for it since the list first started circulating around campus. Frankly, you had completely forgotten about it; up until now. 

“Ko, baby, please calm down-”

“I don’t care how many people wanna touch my ass! They can’t have it, it’s for you to touch and nobody else!” 

You quickly pulled him into your room before he screamed any more embarrassing stuff in the hallway, knowing your neighbors probably recognized his voice by now. The last thing you wanted was another noise complaint, your RA already despised his visits enough to consider banning him altogether–Whether or not they had the authority, you’d rather not find out today. 

Once behind the safety of a closed door, the behemoth of a man came crashing down to his knees, arms circling around your midriff as he buried himself in your stomach. You jumped slightly as your room shook from the sudden action, deeply exhaling in order to reconfigure your thinning patience. Taking a page from Akaashi’s book, you knew getting snippy with Bokuto while he was in this state would only worsen it, so you approached cautiously. 

“Ko,” you cooed, reaching down to caress his deflated hair. He sniffled, hugging you closer in response. Gently, you pushed him far enough to see his face, wiping away the tears as you offered him a soft smile. “Look at me, do I look upset to you?”

Bokuto took a moment to search your eyes, then shook his head.

“Exactly. Which means you don’t need to be, you’ve done nothing wrong. Now stand up, I’m sure that drop hurt your knees, didn’t it?” 

He sniffled once more, then nodded. Slightly embarrassed, Bokuto stumbled back up to his full height, and sure enough, his knees were red. You tsked, gesturing to your desk chair for him to sit on while you fetched an ice pack from your fridge. 

“Although I appreciate the reassurance, I already knew you were on the list, babe.” 

Bokuto’s head shot up from looking at the floor, mood instantly doing a one-eighty as he gaped at you in shock. “HUH? Why didn’t you say anything to me about it?”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you replied, chuckling. “It’s been up for weeks. I figured you saw it and just ignored it, or something. Besides, I’ve gotten used to people openly expressing their attraction to you, so it wasn’t anything new.” 

“You shouldn’t have to get used to it! People need to respect our relationship, no matter how fantastic I am!” 

You snorted, but couldn’t help the chuckle. Returning with an ice pack, you kneeled by his legs and placed the cooling relief upon the irritated skin. “Mm, you are pretty fantastic. But, I don’t mind the attention you get, Ko. Because I know I’m the lucky one who gets you all to myself.” 

Bokuto beamed down at you, lower lip quivering at the praise. 

Effortlessly, he swooped you up from the floor and held you in his lap, the ice pack long forgotten as it slipped out your hands. With a loving squeeze, Bokuto nuzzled into the side of your neck, forcing soft giggles out of you from the ticklish feeling as you hugged him back. You felt so warm in his embrace, and he smelled like home. Even if you’d never say such corny things out loud, the way you melted in his arms was enough for him to know exactly how you felt; it was mutual.

"Plus, you can get a bit intense. They wouldn't last the night."

"Hey, hey, hey, you got that right," Bokuto grinned, smugly. "No one could ever handle me as well as you do, baby owl..." he purred, warm breath fanning over the skin of your shoulder, signaling goosebumps up your arms. You hummed in thought, snuggling in closer, whilst also not-so-accidentally grinding back against the flag pole in his sweats. He grunted, hips jerking upward in surprise.

"Hm, I dunno. It's been a while, I may have forgotten how."

Bokuto chuckled at the tease, the vibrations deep within his chest as he squeezed you a little tighter. You bit your lip to hold in your giddiness as his large hands began to wander, feeling a different kind of warmth as he began to overwhelm your senses. Trailing wet kisses from your shoulder to the side of your face, he playfully nipped at your cheek, eliciting a tiny squeal from you as you wiggled in his hold. And doing so only made you grind back on him even more.

His breathing grew heavier with each passing second, letting out a guttural groan before he flipped you around, making you straddle him. To anyone else, experiencing his sudden mood changes would've given them whiplash. Just moments prior, he'd been on his knees, crying with his head buried in your stomach like it was the end of the world. Now, he looked about five seconds from being on his knees for a different reason. For you, it was just another Wednesday.

"That so? How 'bout I remind you then?"

KUROO thought the list was the most hilarious thing to ever occur on campus, hands down one of his go-to's for entertainment when he’s bored. 

Like right now. 

The lecture dragged on for what felt like forever, the professor mumbling about absolutely nothing of value as everyone in the class busied themselves with whatever would keep them awake. Some played games on their laptops pretending to take notes, while others blatantly chatted with their deskmates.

With an airpod in, Kuroo had you on facetime in the corner of his screen so that you could keep each other company while he scrolled through social media, and you put away dishes. You tried to convince him to leave the class early, "Clearly you aren't paying attention, so you might as well."

"Unfortunately, he only counts attendance if you sign your name on the exit sheet at the very end of the lecture. So leaving early's out of the question." He muttered. You hummed in understanding, then chortled.

"Oh. Sucks to be you, then."

Kuroo glared half-heartedly at you, but it completely softened at the sound of your laughter, despite it being at his expense. He kissed his teeth after checking the time, mildly annoyed that he still had less than ten minutes. “Why’d you even take the course if you couldn’t care less about it?”

“I needed another elective. And…Kenma was the one who recommended it. Said it’d be an easy pass.”

“And you believed him?” Cue another round of your laughter.

He grumbled, off-screen for you but clearly pouting as he chose to ignore your question. No matter, his silence was answer enough.

With a mere shake of your head, you continued putting away dishes on your end. Kuroo, on the other hand, found himself stumbling upon something that perked him up instantly. After refreshing the feed for more mindless content, the user-handle he knew all too well showed itself like a beacon of hope, beckoning him with the promise of filling the next ten minutes with something way more interesting than…whatever this class was about.

@/FckIt22.

After the last fiasco with Bokuto, then later on Kenma, the ravenette contemplated blocking them. As golden as those situations were, something told him that deep down he could be next. But, it was days like this he was glad he didn’t. His boredom was becoming unbearable…and it was so tempting. What harm could it do to look at this one little upda—“HAH?!”

‘Tetsurou Kuroo. 6’2ft gentleman that you’d proudly take home to mom, and even get your father’s approval. With his charm and roguish good looks, it's no wonder his reputation screams 'playboy'. But, he can’t fool me. I know what he is. A whole SUB, no sandwich. I’m sure being as tall as he is, and how he carries himself, people automatically assume he’s a Dom. False. If you’re looking to be dominated, keep looking. Kuroo wants to be babied, told he’s a good boy, and edged until he nearly passes out. Definitely a little brat, but his hair defies gravity for a reason, PULL ON IT. Boss him around, take control, and watch him literally melt in your hands. 8/10 because he's also a stubborn mofo. Literally would pay to see this man cry from overstimulation ugh.’ 

Kuroo shot out of his seat, practically piercing right through the air of humdrum. He not only startled you, but the entire lecture hall including the professor. Comically slapping a hand over his mouth, Kuroo’s face immediately began to burn from not only his outburst but also at the fact that his karma came way sooner than he was prepared for...

He wanted nothing more than for the ceiling to collapse on him and him only.

“Tetsu?? Are you okay, what happened?? Hello??”

"U-Uh, I'll call you back." He squeaked, double-tapping his airpod to end the call.

The professor crossed his arms, "Mr. Tetsurou. I understand that my lecture may not be the most enjoyable part of your day, but I would appreciate it if you endured it for just," the professor checks his watch, "six more minutes. Is that alright with you?"

Before he could even open his mouth to give an excuse, a chorus of vibrations, dings, and whistles from various phones instantly made the business major shrivel up. Next thing he knew, what used to be a room full of the undead was now livelier than ever before. Kuroo could feel every single one of their searing gazes; like being an insect under a microscope.

"Bro, this you?" A student sitting behind him leaned forward, phone in hand as he shoved it in Kuroo's face. The picture stared back at him, smugly grinning and shirtless as he ironically thirst-trapped the camera. Out of all the pictures…

He internally cringed. "U-Uhh..."

"Please, everyone settle down, so we can continue-" The professor attempted to redirect focus, but he had already lost it way before all this happened. A few more students jumped straight into bombarding him with questions, eager to push for more info now that this supposed new side of him had been revealed.

“Whoa, how much of this is true??”

“Kuroo-san, I’ll happily baby you!~”

“Aw man, thought for sure you’d be the type to take control, not give it up. What a bummer. No offense.”

He absolutely took offense to that.

With no help from the professor, as he tried and failed to recollect everyone's attention, Kuroo thought of the next best course of action to get him out of this sticky situation. Jumping out a two-story window didn't sound so bad, and the broken bones would be a great distraction from the suffocating feeling of public humiliation.

In the midst of all the theories and queries being thrown at him from every angle, his phone went off multiple times. Mostly from you, but the rest were no doubt the groupchat clowning him once they caught wind of the news. The guys weren't gonna let him live this one down, that's for certain. And to make matters worse...he still had four long minutes left in the class.

He exhaled, "Should've blocked 'em when I had the chance..."

Gathering up his stuff, Kuroo used his long legs to evade the ever-growing crowd of prodding students, all most likely not even caring about the post itself, but more so just wanting to kill class time; he refused to be a scapegoat.

Marching right up to the professor, who gave up trying to round up the class, the rooster-head mustered up the most pathetic look possible to evoke sympathy outta the wrinkly man. "Hey, so uh… may I please be excused a little early for this one time, sir? I'd really hate to be such a distraction from your insightful lecture-"

"Just go, Mr. Tetsurou." Didn't need to tell him twice.

As soon as he made it to your dorm, you could imagine his shock that his friends were already there, waiting as if they knew he'd come running straight to you. You offered him a teasing grin, shrugging as you said, “They came for…emotional support.”

He didn't know if he was mortified or mortified—Yaku, Yamamoto, Bokuto, Akaashi, hell, even Kenma rolled out of bed, wrapped in a blanket burrito and all, just to see the look on his best friend's face. He grinned, sardonically, then patted the empty spot on the couch right next to him. "Welcome to the club. We've been expecting you."

Oh, he was definitely blocking that godforsaken list now. And finding a new elective.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[ramp-it-up]

Greater

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count:~3K

Summary: You let Steve know how you felt about him leaving you hanging.

This is part two to Great.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, secrets, sexual frustration,allusion to dildos, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, tight t-shirt and grey sweats on Steve, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral, make receiving, face slapping. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

———-

Steve knew he should have avoided you when he came through the hotel lobby after his run to go back up to the room, but you eating breakfast solo on the terrace made him feel some kind of way. He watched as you gazed out over the Gulf of Genoa, feeling like a heel for leaving you in bed alone, but if he had stayed, you two would still be there.

Having you the way he did last night did not help his heart problem right now. You were taking up too much space in it, and he was afraid that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It couldn’t be. It was too soon for you. He’d fallen for you the moment he first saw you, and you didn’t even know when that was.

Your sister Aria, as clueless as she was, told your story: you hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Last night was just dumb luck for Steve, and physical need for you.

Being forced to stay in a space with such close quarters presented him the opportunity to get close to you, but it was disconcerting. He didn’t expect to be able to touch and kiss your most intimate places last night, but giving you pleasure was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

After putting you right to sleep, Steve felt a sense of accomplishment. But as he held you, he felt like a fraud, and soon escaped to go for a run on the beach to clear his head and calm his body.

Steve wanted nothing more than to give you more of the physical, which you clearly wanted. But what you needed was the truth. What he needed was your heart.

He looked down at his watch when he got a notification that Bucky had texted and planned to escape to the room, but when he looked back up, he was caught.

——

After you awoke in bed alone, you got out of bed and showered, frustrated. And why wouldn't you be?

Steve gave you the best head of your life last night, didn’t let you return the favor, and then ghosted you. You looked in the mirror and tried to figure out if your pussy was broken or something.

At least Jake appreciated it.

You nodded as you tried to convince yourself that a hunk of latex was sentient.

Aria texted you that she and Topher were staying in their suite today, and to reschedule the yacht ride. Your troubles were forgotten as you once again tried to move heaven and earth for your darling little superstar sister.

Aria’s change of plans, despite being a pain in the ass, was a definite plus. You could spend the day exploring this beautiful town on your own.

You sat on the terrace solo, after trying in vain to obtain another room in the sold out resort. You were torn between pettiness and being a simp for Steve Rogers. The sound of the ocean sent your mind drifting back to the night before, how good Steve’s hands and mouth felt on you. You shivered, and you felt the hair raise on the back of your neck.

You looked around, and finally, behind you, to catch Steve’s eyes, as blue as the Gulf, watching you. You gulped, and before you could stop yourself, waved him over. You saw him blanch, hesitate, but come over. You frowned.

He clearly couldn’t stand you, but you were going to set the record straight.

You weren't going to spend this whole week on pins and needles with him.

No way.

—--

Steve approached you hesitantly, squaring his shoulders to combat his nerves. He stood before you in military posture, hands behind his back. When you looked him up and down and raised your eyebrow, almost ready for anything, he couldn’t help the smile that began to form on his face.

You were trouble.

You watched Steve approach and your stomach did a somersault. Damn, he was fine. The sweat at the collar of his t-shirt, which was hanging on to his torso for dear life, was some kind of powerful magic. Your panties were about as damp. And when he stopped in front of you, perfect posture, cock so close, well, it took serious willpower to not get down on your knees in front of all these people.

You looked up at his sexy smirk. Damn him. You needed to know what was up.

“Morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?”

You crossed your legs, making his eyes follow the motion, and it was then that he gulped, fantasizing about reaching down and grabbing you up to take you back to bed.

“I slept very well, Steve, but did not wake up that way? Please, sit down. We need to talk.”

The words tumbled out before you had a chance to think, and you frowned.

Steve watched your face as he took a seat. You were not happy. And it was never a good thing when someone said that phrase. He had a feeling he knew exactly the way this conversation was going to go.

“I know what you are going to say, last night was a mistake. And I agree with you.”

“Oh?”

You exhaled as you sat back in your seat. That is not what you were going to say at all, but you were glad that Steve was coming out with what he really felt.

“We were caught up in the moment, jet lag, emotional…and I… I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

Steve looked up at the waiter who’d appeared and ordered water. You sipped your mimosa as you watched him, the red creeping up from his neck to his face, his cheeks flushed.

He was being genuine.

And sweet.

Being in the entertainment industry as long as you had, you learned to read people quickly.

“Taking advantage of me would entail making me suck your cock like I wanted to, Captain Rogers. Not you eating me out like a pro. I feel like I took advantage of you?”

Steve’s eyes got wide as he gulped down his water. He coughed.

You watched that tongue dart out and lick those ruby red lips after he caught his breath. Whew, that side smile. You began to take this as a challenge. Steve’s words didn’t match his actions right now, and you were determined to find out why.

His deep voice gave you a clue.

“‘D’you like that?”

The way Steve was looking at you right now was everything. You smiled and leaned forward, noticing how his eyes went to your cleavage. The way his pupils were blown told you more.

You were beginning to change your mind about how Steve Rogers felt about you. He at least wanted your body. You had power.

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve almost moaned. The way you looked, your sultry tone, the fact that you said ‘making you suck his cock.’ He cleared his throat as your words raced around his brain. ‘…like you wanted to…, Captain…’

Fuck, he was screwed.

He straightened up.

“I mean… that wasn’t cool…”

You straightened up as well, jutting your breasts out as if an invitation. Steve shifted in his seat. You were making things hard for him.

“No. No it wasn’t…”

You pouted, thinking of the way he left you hanging.

“Fix that face, y/n.”

Holy hell. That command. He did want you to hit the ground right there. But you had to push back.

“Hmmmm. I guess I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ Or you’ll spank me like you promised…”

You smiled at him mischievously.

You were such a brat. You had to be stopped. Before he lost control again.

“I didn’t promise that, y/n…”

Steve’s voice was broken and he licked his lips before taking another drink of water.

“Oh? I thought you said that?”

You twirled your finger around the rim of your glass and then dipped two into your drink, placing them into your mouth and slowly pulling them out of those lips. Steve licked his in response

Steve knew what you were doing, but it was long past time to turn back now. Blood was rapidly leading his brain. He grunted unconsciously, determined to stay in control.

“I’m not doing this with you. I need to take a shower.”

Steve got up and stalked toward the elevators, and you sat, steaming, in your seat. You were shaking with emotion. You realized the true source of your frustration. You wanted Steve, you were sharing a room, and you were in a beautiful setting. You didn’t have to be a love match, but why not go for it?

You called the waiter over and asked him to charge your breakfast to the account.

~~~~~~~

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Steve wanted to pry them open to run back out to you. But space was the best answer right now. You were amping him up to do something reckless, something that would be irreversible. It was best that he kept his distance.

He entered the room and took off his shirt, going to the bathroom to turn on the water. He shook his head as he thought of you. You were such a menace.

When he turned around, there you were.

The look on Steve’s face was a little scary. You didn’t know if he was angry… or something else.

“....I need to get my…” Your eyes searched the bathroom. “...my lipgloss…”

You walked closer to him then turned toward the vanity and picked up a tube of your Glossbomb, leaning over toward the mirror, smearing a slick shiny across those lips.

Steve’s resolve began to crumble as he inhaled your scent and watched your lips shine. Your words came back to him. He wanted that mouth of yours.

You turned around.

“You didn’t answer my question, Captain.”

“What question was that, Doll?”

Steve moved closer to you, backing you up against the vanity. Your heart beat faster, but you pressed on.

“About the spanking…”

You felt dumb, but in a good way as Steve stared at you, seeing right through you. And then he smirked. He looked you up and down as he leaned forward and caged you in, hands on either side of you on the sink. Steam filled the room and came out of your ears.

“What I said was that I wanted to spank you when you were giving me attitude on the plane. Seems that was warranted. You don’t know when to stop.”

Steve’s voice broke as his breath fanned across your face. His mouth was so, so close to yours.

You sighed, and pouted again.

“I never stop, Captain. So does that make me a bad girl? I thought I was a good girl? It’s what you said last night.”

“I said that was a mistake.”

“What happened last night was a mistake, or saying that I’m a good girl?”

You were quick to reply as you cocked your head at him.

“Y’know, I wasn’t going to say that it was a mistake earlier. You put words in my mouth. That’s not what I want there…”

Steve slid his hand up your arm to your throat, and closed his fingers around it. It was nothing, almost, but enough to show you his power. You whimpered in his grip.

���You are maddening, you know that? You should leave well enough alone…”

You looked him in the eyes. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, even felt it jump as he searched your face and settled on your lips. You decided to try it.

“Let me go, and I’ll leave it alone… Don’t, and well, you can teach me how to be good again…”

Steve’s mind said to let you go, but it was his cock and his heart that made him do what he did next.

He whispered as he moved toward you, brushing the line of your jaw with his fingers. Your head was reeling from the sexy tone as you realized that he’d said, “Teach you a lesson…”

His lips slammed into yours, and his hands roamed your body, laying claim to what he wanted. You moaned as his tongue decimated you, letting him take what he wanted. When you separated, he asked you a question.

“What do you want in your mouth, y/n?”

“I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”

“That sounds… “

Steve rested his forehead against yours. Your words gave him the image, and he couldn't resist. He cleared his throat again, then his blue eyes captured yours. Steel.

“Go sit on the edge of the bed…”

“Yes, Sir.”

The way he clenched his jaw had your pussy doing the same as you practically skipped to the next room and did as you were told. He was standing right in front of you again, running his palm down his hardness outside of his sweats. Your heart beat with anticipation.

You whined when he reached inside his sweats and pulled it out. It looked so big, so hard, the peach mushroom tip weeping and pretty, but big. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

The way you suddenly looked scared made Steve get even harder.

“You sure this is what you want?”

He was stroking his cock, and using his thumb to lubricate himself. He was restraining himself from touching you, but you didn’t know that, all that you saw was the sexy veins bulging down his arms as he jacked it in front of you.

“Y-yes…”

You reached for it and Steve moved closer, moaning when your small, cool hand closed around his hot throbbing staff. When you started pumping him was when his head started swimming.

“God, Doll…”

Your mouth fell open, those glossy lips a magnet for his cock. He didn’t know if you were leaning towards him, or if he were moving closer to you, but none of that mattered when your lips and tongue made contact.

He hissed at the sensation.

“SSsssss, y/n,”

He looked down at you as you stared up at him. You were entranced, his smell of musk and sweat was intoxicating.

“Those eyes. That mouth. Open. Wider.”

He had a grip on your chin, firmly pulling your jaw down to accommodate him.

As you kept eye contact, you saw a ferality that made you shiver. You wanted that look on you forever. You tried to unhinge your jaw as Steve slid his smooth cock inside your mouth.

He stopped once your mouth was full, but you continued, allowing his access to your throat.

“Ohhhhh. So goood...”

Steve pulled out of your mouth and stuck two fingers in, watching as you licked and sucked them, pumping his wet cock with your hand.

“That mouth. You’re not giving me any sass now, are you?”

He held your chin again and looked you in the eye, lighty slapping your jaw.

You gasped, then smiled and shook your head as you eagerly sucked along the side of his dick.

“No, Sir,” you replied, your mouth full of Steve.

You stuck your tongue out and deep throated him bobbing slowly as you pumped him with your hand.

“Go ahead. Get sloppy with it.”

You spit on his dick as you went to town, going faster when Steve gathered your hair in his hand and moved you at his preferred pace.

“Look at me when you do that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, thighs clenching at his tone.

“Look at you. Are you a slut for this cock already?”

You pulled off with a plop to spit again.

“Yes, Captain.”

And you started glugging him, moving your hand and making Steve’s knees weak.

“Holy Fuck, that’s good. Yessss.”

You smiled at the praise and started jacking him against your outstretched tongue.

“Yes, yes, yessss. Suck the tip again. That fucking mouth.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside and jacking what didn’t fit.

Steve started moaning and pulled your hair so that you looked up at him.

“Stop if you don’t want my cum in your mouth.”

You jacked him even faster.

“I want it, Captain..”

You slapped his cock against your lips and then resumed sucking as Steve grunted and buried his fingers in your hair.

“So… fucking… good… good girl…fuckkk! I’m cumming. Dirty girl. That mouth is so damn good.”

Steve was full of contradictory praise as he held his balls and you jacked his cock fast, allowing your mouth to make the most pornographic sounds around him.

“Oh! Oh shit ohshit oooooh oooohh shitttttt!”

You slowed down when you felt the first spurt against your tongue and you let it fall out of your mouth. Steve was hypnotized as he took his cock and pumped it into your mouth as you swallowed.

“What a dirty little girl. Good girl gone bad. You love this, don’t you?”

You nodded as you swallowed, your eyes tearing as the cum squirted into your throat.

“Fuuuuuucckkkk.”

Steve was profane as he watched you swallow it all and clean him up.

“That was amazing, Doll. Thank you.”

He reached down and traced your swollen lips with his thumb. He knew what you wanted, what you needed next. But there was really no turning back from that.

“I think we’re even now. I’m going to go take that shower.”

Steve turned and went back into the bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was greater, your need or your pride.

———

Reblog if you enjoyed!

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[pilot-boi]

Pilot AUs Masterlist

Ever wondered what the fuck all my AUs are about? Well wonder no longer!

This is a list of all of my AUs (so far), or at least all of the ones I could find. They all have summaries and most have links to where fics have been posted, or to the tag on Tumblr where all the posts are about it

I will keep updating this as more AUs happen, because I am sure more AUs will happen. Also, I can’t tag all of the AUs in this post, there are literally too many

(List under the cut)

MIA

The Original AU

Jaune gets kidnapped and beat the fuck up for information

Literally just whump the entire time

BNHA

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of BNHA characters

Fullmetal

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in the place of FMAB characters

Tour Group

RNJR + Qrow get lost on their way to Mistral and basically just fuck around on vaction

Very bad fashion from Jaune

VERY cracky

Sun, Neptune, and Ilia end up coming along with the plot when RNJR don’t show up

The whole plot still happens, it’s just treated VERY much for comedy

Paperwork

If Roman was told to go to hell he simply wouldn’t

After the boy dies he goes to heaven because nobody was paying attention and he snuck through the door with all the other fucking million people who died the night of the Fall

Hangs out with Summer, Pyrrha, and sometimes Penny and they watch the plot through the clouds

Stranger Things

What’s on the tin

The kids but if they were in Stranger Things

Not a straight up character replacement, actual different plots because of the different personalities

Mistral

Everyone gets to Mistral, fights at Haven, and they go no further

Buy a house and all live together while doing missions and being domestic

Jaune gets his ass kicked every other week

That’s it, that’s the plot

Army Birds

Have you ever wished Qrow Branwen could date Maes Hughes from FMAB?

Mistral AU offshoot

After the phone booth Maes is isekai’d into RWBY and is found by Qrow and Jaune

Qrow because ship, Jaune because holy shit gunshot wounds

It’s like Fairgame but if Clover wasn’t a fucking narc

Coffee Shop/College

Your classic coffee shop AU combined with a classic college AU

All the kiddos are sophomores/juniors at Beacon University

Shipping and shenanigans ensue

Seamonkeys are the coffee shop ship, but Jaune also works there

Heartwood

An AU based on a ship that HarmonyLight and I came up with between JNR+Marrow

Diverges about halfway through Volume 8 as it hadn’t finished when we came up with it

Whale dies, but who knows after that

They ride a boat to Vacuo

Daemon

What it says on the tin

They’ve all got daemons but the plot is the same

Twice the characters, twice the pain

Percy Jackson

What it says on the tin

The kids but if they were in Percy Jackson

Not a straight up character replacement

Different characters take different places as necessary for the plot

Godly parents are all different

Hanahaki

Pyrrha is really pining in this one y’all

Oof oof ouch angst she’s choking on roses for the boy

Space

Very Firefly inspired space AU with JNPR as a crew of a ship

RWBY are crew of another ship

Political nonsense and spaceship fights galore

Soulmate

Platonic and romantic and all those in between

When you get hurt, your soulmate blooms flowers in the same place

Vibrancy and size of the flowers depends on the severity of the injury

Canon events are the same

Time Travel

Oscar gets sent back in time for fix-it purposes, but not as far as you’d think

Timeline diverges during the finale of V7, when ALPN end up in the vault during the Maiden nonsense

Some doomed timeline shit happens and literally EVERYONE dies before Oscar and Jaune’s eyes

Oscar unlocks his semblance (time travel whoopee) and Jaune boosts him so he can go back and F1X TH1S

Blooming

AKA, Pyrrha lives because I miss her

Through the power of Arkos and Jaune being a soft boy who keeps giving his maybe girlfriend flowers, the girl lives and the world is saved

90% Beacon era with a VERY short epilogue

5+1 Style

Modelling

Baby’s first RWBY fic courtesy of inspiration from the OG Jaune server

Arkos are both models and both idiots

Pining, fake dating, and lots of fluff ensue

Daycare

ALMOST everyone except Weiss, Jaune, Pyrrha, and Ilia are 8-years-old or younger

Modern/realistic AU

Weiss owns a daycare center that watches all these kids, Arkos are her employees

90% fluff

10% the inevitable angst of some of the characters being orphans

Les Miserables

What it says on the tin

I wrote down like seven pages of notes without stopping to drink water

Sort of character replacement AU but with subtle things changed for to make sense

Major Character Death

Duh

Qrow Fucks Up

Least thought through honestly

Canon but if everything boiled down to being somehow because of Qrow’s bad luck

VERY cracky

LOTR

What it says on the tin

Character replacement AU but with some MAJOR things changed for to make sense

Plot is the same, but how they get there might not always be

Flying Monkeys

Sun gets kidnapped by Salem for Grimm body part experiments and all he gets are wings and a boat load of trauma

Finally one not about Jaune

Oops looks like Sun got fuckin tortured for months all so I could make a dumb pun oops

The only one of these with a whole comic done about it

WAY more stuff in my head than necessary

Fallen Angel

Jaune and MOST of the baddies are kidnapped as children and experimented on by Salem as she tries to make them into angels and become a god

Less complicated than it sounds

User/Reader influenced

Modern AU of Remnant, timeline diverges after the gods leave

Magic is taken away and EVERYONE is made into part animal part humans

Nobody is bird though, and they’re more animal than Faunus

The gang literally fistfights “god”

Wings

Canon but if everyone had bird wings

Way more lore than necessary

The plot is the same, HarmonyLight and I just did a hell of worldbuilding

CatsVDogs

V9 AU where Jaune and the Curious Cat get into a relationship during his time trapped and it’s all downhill from there

CC is hella abusive, Jaune gets hella traumatized, it’s a bad time

Jaune’s shadow is sorta sentient

CC is a twinky tumblr sexyman catboy

Jaune gets possessed by CC instead of Neo, but he gets better

Voices

After the Fall Jaune starts being able to hear voices of dead people

Mostly can hear Huntsmen because they’re Auras are stronger

Mostly thinks he’s going crazy because Ren, Nora, and Ruby can’t hear the voices

Boy is stressed, and tired, and at the end of his rope

Wolf

Werewolf AU I made because it was Spooky Season

Jaune gets mauled by a Beowolf as a child and will turn into one when he gets too emotional

He can’t control it though

Runs away after blowing up at Pyrrha and saves Cardin in wolf form at Forever Fall

Starstuff

The one where Jaune glows when he’s happy because he’s LITERALLY sunshine boy

Everyone has nature related powers that slowly awaken to show that the gods are coming back

Wrote most of it in 2021 to HarmonyLight and then forgot about it for two years

DND

Started as the gang playing DND, turned into the gang LIVING in DND

Not in Feyrun, set in a DND-ified version of Remnant

Characters are not the classes/races you’d think

Way too much thought put into it

Mando

The Arcs are similar to the Mandalorians, but that’s where the Star Wars ends

Jaune adopts Oscar and eventually Nora

Fluff ensues

Twins

“Hey, Yang and Jaune look kind of alike” taken to the extreme

Jaune is abandoned by Raven and raised by the Arcs

Parent Trap realization/angst ensues

Twins have a psychic bond

Mirror Man

Jaune retreats WAY far into the RK persona

RK “kills” Jaune to protect everyone from “a horrible killer”

Very angst much ouch

Not actually DID, just mentally protecting himself from V8 trauma

Modern Magic

That’s it, that’s the AU

Inspired by all those modern witch AUs I used to read back in 2014 MCYT

Set in “real world” and they’re all in college

Man out of Time

Jaune is a timelord, but he isn’t the Doctor, I literally can’t stress this enough

His TARDIS crashed and he was adopted by the Arcs

Regenerates way too often for how long he’s been alive

Healing Rust

Yo that boy’s got hella trauma, let’s speak on that

Set after V9 and written as a MAJOR healing fic

Oneshots inspired by asks sent in

Royalty

Obligatory royalty AU

Jaune and Weiss are the royals, Pyrrha is Jaune’s guard

Everyone is involved somehow

There’s angst in The Plot, but mostly it’s just Armoured Angel

Fusion

Jaune’s Semblance manifests as a way to fuse the souls of two people, combing their bodies

Two people can fuse, but Jaune has to have fused with both of them first

LOTS of art of different character fusions

Angst and identity issues galore

Burning Knight

When Penny is killed, Jaune inherits the powers

“Woohoo, time to repress this”

Egg cracking is pushed off until RWBY fall into the Ever After

Jaune is a girl who feels like a guy, still uses he/him pronouns

Hare’s Breadth

Jaune dies on the tower during the Fall, Pyrrha survives

Blacksmith repairs him to prevent a paradox

Juniper is used to repair since his body was dissolved by Cinder

Angst and fluff and being confused about why the hell he’s alive and a jackalope-taur

Knights in Time

Jaune and Weiss are sent back to Volume 1 by the Blacksmith

Time travel fix-it ensues

Starts with White Knight, eventual Armored Angels

[kikijackson-blog]

A Is For... Arsonist? Phonics - Angel Edition

Here is is, readers' choice Angel. Hope you all like it.

Readers 18+ only

Warnings: Language, Alcohol

No smut in this one ladies, sorry.

Music blasted through the speakers so loud that you were becoming increasingly irritated that you couldn’t hear your girlfriends over the sounds of Guns n Roses’ Welcome to the Jungle. It was a song you hadn’t heard in a long while, but your best friend happened to find this club by accident. She’d met some dude on a dating app a couple of months ago and they’d agreed to meet here. The date had been a disaster from the star but at least she found this little gem. Rock from the 80’s how you loved those hair bands. It had quickly become your little girl squad’s hang out place, where you all would unwind after work but today you just weren’t feeling it. You were completely stressed from work, alcohol wasn’t helping like it should, the beginning signs of a migraine were becoming more apparent, and the music was only starting to aggravate it.

“That’s because you need to drink more!” Your friend the trouble maker shouted.

Somehow you got the feeling that there was not enough alcohol in this club to do the trick. You needed something more. Unable to pinpoint what the was, the frustration of it all finally got to you. You shot up from your seat and excused yourself from the girls who probably hadn’t heard you because they were too busy flirting with some guys who in the witching hour were 10s but in the daytime probably more like 2s.

Tonight was just not your night you thought as you made your way outside.

“Sit your ass down, motherfucker,” you heard a male voice shout. “She's way outta' your league man.”

You rolled your eyes and headed to the door. Definitely not your night.

“Fuck you Coco, I could totally get her.” Creeper countered.

“No, you can’t.” Coco laughed.

Angel shaking his head stood up and took one last sip from his beer before setting it down on the table. “Nah Creep you can’t, but I can.” and headed straight to the door you just walked out of.

He saw you sitting at a table outside alone, trying to light a cigarette.

“Damn you, you stupid little shit” your lighter chose the perfect moment to decide to fuck with you and not start.

“Allow me,” a deep voice said, lighter in hand and that little flame was like a tiny ray of hope for you.

“Oh my God, thank you, you’re fuckin’ heaven sent. You’re like a goddamn angel waving around your celestial flame.”

He chuckled as he took a seat next to you. “My name is Angel. What’s your name gorgeous?”

You laughed until it slowly dissipated as you study his features. “[y/n]. No really what’s your name?”

“I told you, it’s Angel.”

That’s when you noticed one of the rings he wore on his fingers had angel wings so you figured that actually was his name and not just some witty line. His smile was quite angelic but then you take in his leather and scoffed.

“Yeah right more like fallen angel.”

“Yeah well an angel none the less.” He then gave you a devilish smile. “And, I don’t believe I specified what kind of angel.”

You gave his rings one more glance and saw a skull on one. You leaned in a little closer to him and slowly whispered, “Angel of death.”

He inched the gap between you, “Maybe, but you’re a little arsonist.”

“Arsonist?”

“Yeah arsonist, cuz you started a fire in my heart.”

“Did I?” You move in even closer feeling the heat radiating from his body. This one’s a daytime 10 for sure.

He closed that last sliver of space between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours and gave you exactly what you had been needing. Soft but demanding, there was a gentleness to his kiss laced with danger and it was intoxicating.

“A goddamn blaze.”

****************************

More Angel?

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug watches 'The Bad Batch: A Different Approach'

Believe it or not, this episode started the first real argument between Doug and I!

Hope y'all enjoy it.

CW: Language and Doug is surprisingly critical of fat folks, despite the fact that he's from one of the least healthy states in the USA, has a massive beer gut, and can put away a whole rack of ribs and multiple barbeque fixin's in one sitting. I've seen it in person, folks. We were snipping at each other over fatphobia, glass houses, and the merits of The Treasure State after this.

I might have sacrificed my invitation to his St Patrick's Day party as a result. Oh well.

---------------------------------------------------------

Episode 4: “Adventures in Space Montana” 

(image from @ladyzirkonia)

And we’re starting off with Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of a stolen vehicle because the girl is every inch her hillbilly brothers family.

Why is the plane on fire? Does this end like Alive? I thought ships couldn’t burn in space, I mean, I studied engineering, worked in oil, girl I remember Event Horizon.

Whelp, they crashed in a cold-ass field with some pointy mountains behind them. Clearly Montana. Maybe there’s a national park nearby and they can go hiking.

Aw, no, Mutant Jimmers is stuck behind Daddy Warcrimes’s seat! Let the ol girl out before she pees all over the spare tire!

Did they bring their guns? Hope they did. This is Montana, the Texas of the north, except you can’t find the bodies anywhere. If I was gonna go and murder someone, I’d pick Montana after Alaska.  

(Pictured: Omega and Crosshair are somewhere in this picture)

A sketchy cold-ass town where everyone’s gambling, there’s too much military trash wandering around and you see your breath even inside the bar? Yup, definitely Montana. 

(“Montana is not like that! I’ve been there multiple times! I almost went to grad school at UM and the kayaking, skiing, hiking, and breweries are amazing!” - Me, defending a state I have never lived in

“Yeah, but have you been to Butte? Thought I was gonna go get eaten by the locals there.” - Doug

::proceed to bicker and fight via texts about the many merits and demerits of the Big Sky State::)

Aw yeah, Daddy Warcrimes and Little Orphan Blondie got new clothes. Smart man, covering his face, Daddy Warcrimes. He totally looks like me when I gotta rake the lawn in November. I like that sweater, think they’ll sell them at Disneyland? 

And they’re back to gambling. See! I told you this was Montana! They even have a gun rack!

Look at Little Orphan Blondie taking down fools with some cards! I bet Ryan-from-Accounting is smiling watching from Heaven or wherever he’s fighting the Space Balrog to come back as Space Gandalf. 

Oh who is this fat fuck. Lord a mercy, is he the one fat imperial we have ever seen? Man I tell you what I bet he’s too hefty to ride in an AT-AT and that’s why they sent him to Space Montana, thinking the hiking and eating venison and berries will slim that brother up.

Maybe Vader will force him to run while carrying Palpatine like we did to other recruits in the Navy. 

Nope, he’s gambling with a little girl in a bar, because the Empire just can’t follow rules now can it. That don’t make any sense. I’m with you, Daddy Warcrimes, giving that sour puss to everyone. I would too. 

And now Officer Fat Fuck is gone done taking money from a child who beat him fair and square. Yup, he works for the government, all right. I bet he manages the Empire’s DMV.

Creepy little street boy wants some cash to tell them where they took Mutant Jimmers. I don’t blame the boy, it looks like no one wants to buy his shitty watermelon and he ain’t got a face.

Why in the hell are there so many animals in crates and shit here? They starting a zoo or something? Is it all to feed Officer Fat Fuck? I need info on this. 

Shit yeah, fire them guns, Daddy Warcrimes! It’s your time to shine, big boy!

Oh yeah they freed Mutant Jimmers! And everybody else. Oh man, is that a kraken? Whelp, its dinner tonight is Officer Fat Fuck. Good on ya, kraken, you may be named after the world’s worst hockey team but ain’t bad all the time now. 

(pictured: they keep losing games but hey they at least eat imperial officers?)

Gotta fry some dumb Imperial while you’re leaving, of course. Why they wearing them goggles when they got helmets on? Shit, real dumb. Don’t like the Inspector Gadget trench coats either, those can get caught real quick in a door and that’s how you get shot and all. 

Ah yeah, they saved their cash, grabbed a ship, and they’re off to the moon! There they go! 

DADDY RAMBO LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE JULIO AND DADDY WARCRIMES ALL BACK TOGETHER! OH MY LORD MEAT MUFFIN I AIN’T EXPECTING THIS THIS EARLY! WOW! 

(image from @dreamswithghosts)

And Mutant Jimmers is with them too. It’s a good day on the moon! 

Tagging Doug's fans of course: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

[delusional-fantasising]

My Sweet Heavenly Drug (Dead!Dean x Angel!Castiel)

Synopsis: After finale, Dean is in heaven and he seems to be slightly unhappy since he wants to see one person, to give them his answer to their confession of love to him. Gabriel makes a cameo 😋

Warnings: None really besides some angst and fluff

Heaven, somewhere and a something not many people understand. Sometimes heaven isn’t a place or object, a person.

Sure Dean has most of his heaven where he stood but the thing is, he was missing one person. He just missed him dearly and had a few things to say if he ever were to see the man or the Angel named Castiel. Everyone just told Dean to try calling Castiel or summoning him but maybe it was because the lack of response he gave the angel when the angel gave to him made him scared that he came off as rude. Making it seem like Castiel’s feelings were unrequited even though he didn’t want to make it seem that way, the hunter had some feelings.

Ever since raising him out of the depths of hell, Castiel has been a lingering swirl of confusing feelings. His vessel and the angel’s funny aloof charm capturing Dean’s eye. That angel of the lord was Dean’s strange addiction, going through so much like no one else.

Dean was sitting in his cabin out in the woods, looking out the window taking a sip of his beer while staring out into space. His surroundings a serenade compared to the horror’s he saw while alive preventing so many apocalypses or seeing everyone he has ever loved died. It wasn’t a big surprise when he decided to just spend time by himself with the dog he had raised with Sam before his last moments. Jack had sent the dog practically VIP passes to Dean, that dog never left his side.

The dog lay near his feet, Dean sighed as he stood up heading inside. He set the beer down and looked over at his mantle where many pictures frames sat there. Pictures of back when he was alive and pictures he had gotten in heaven, a picture that Sam took as a joke but Dean kept; him and Castiel passed out in the back of the impala with Sam grinning like an idiot holding up a card saying, ‘Third wheeling it.’

“This is it,” Dean muttered as he pressed his hands together just to make sure the call went through. “Cas where ever you are, I need you here.”

It was silent not even the sound of an angel landing in the room. Dean decides to crack a joke that he made a long time ago maybe hoping for a reply, “Cas get out of my ass…”

It stayed silent before a familiar voice spoke up breaking the quietness, “Dean. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever call me.”

Castiel was behind Dean, smiling at the reference of an old joke that was made so long ago once they were face to face there was a tension in the room. They hugged after it was too long since they had seen each other, a bear hug that could crush a frail person. Once they broke apart there was just so many emotions swirling between them. That butterfly feeling and Castiel internally freaking out by this call not knowing why now Dean has summoned for his presence.

“So Dean how are you enjoying this new version of heaven that I helped created with Jack?” The angel asked as he straightened out his trench coat nervously, his eyes almost piercing the mortal’s soul. “Well at least last time I was here I gotta say I’m loving the improvements but obviously there’s just something missing for me in heaven.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes trying to think what he could have forgotten; He made sure to get pies that Dean always loved appearing in his fridge, his favourite liquor, his favourite adult magazines, everything that Dean could ever want.

“What’s missing Dean?”

“Well Cas, ever since I thought you went in the void I was thinking about what you said to me, what you admitted,” Dean began trying to find the words that didn’t came out weird or awkward, this was one of the things that he always struggled with when it came to anyone either platonic or romantic; communication. Castiel did that head tilt that he always did and the first thing he did when they first met face to face, “What I said?”

Sure what he said was what he thought to be his final words but Jack rose him back to life which made things more difficult for this exact day. The eye contact was hard to maintain, neither man wanted to look each other in the eye and talk about this. This never came natural to either.

“Well Cas it was just what you told me, everything happened so fast. I wasn’t able to tell you anything. I didn’t knowing what to say in that moment then and I still don’t but Cas I just want to make it clear that I don’t don’t feel the same for you.” Dean tried explaining, his hands fidgeting with his jean belt loops, while tilting his head side to side slightly. Castiel had this hopeful look in his eyes but he masked it to not rush the whole thing, “Dean?”

“I just… hear me out. I have been always scared of ever getting involved with someone that’s why I rarely stuck around with people for long periods of time since I have always been on the move, I don’t know if I could ever or we could ever be… something,” Dean tried explaining since he knew that he had to keep some slight distance, feelings were never his strong suit neither words.

“Dean, why are you scared still?”

There was vulnerability showing within both, both a sad and scared vulnerability that no one wanted to own up to but they had to.

“I lost you over and over Cas. I watched you die so many times that I just wonder if it was shit luck rubbing on you. You becoming a fallen angel for me and risk your life so many times for me that I just don’t know where to start with how reckless you can be, I don’t want to lose you again because of me. It destroyed me every time thinking that maybe this time you did die and I won’t ever see you again,” Dean spoke, his voice cracking with the raw anguish thinking of all the times Castiel put his life on the line repeatedly like it was some stupid game of calling quits all the time. The angel step forward with his hand reaching out, placing it on Dean’s left shoulder gripping it tightly as he tried cutting Dean off, “Dean wait I-”

“No I just want you to listen, I need you to hear this coming from me,” Dean spoke as he raised his hand slightly silencing Castiel from continuing as he went on, “It’s not that I don’t want to try, I miss being with you, hunting with you or listening to music while I drive Baby but I am terrified of the amount of times I failed you. I failed you so many times I failed you went you took the mental burden when you had to stay in a mental hospital or the time I failed you when you became human and you had to be homeless. I failed you so much…”

“Dean…” His grip tightened firmly as he searched for the words to say, “Dean that happened so long ago, I have forgiven you for everything.”

“Cas you forgive too easily,” Dean muttered pressing his forehead against Castiel’s. They both had a moment of silence where they both closed their eyes. A stray tear falling down both their cheeks, Castiel did a small miracle with the help of a secret wingman who was outside of the cabin with a boombox blasting romantic slow music. Dean had to stifle a chuckle as he asked, “Is that Sam or Jack?”

“Neither, it’s Gabriel,” Castiel chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Dean as the other man did the same. The hunter wasn’t angry or even surprised, “Of course it’s Gabe, I’m not even surprised he’s alive.”

“Jack brought him back not too long ago and he’s already liking the new order that isn’t controlled by Chuck,” Castiel murmured with his lips tugging into a smile, their swaying together and no worry about monsters or anything interrupting them.

“Cas I wasn’t able to give you a response then but I love you too.”

Castiel and Dean got closer, pressing their lips in a soft tender kiss. A soft hum and Dean could feel Castiel smiling against the kiss, happy that this was the day it happened.

Happy that they can finally be together.

[askoverlordvox]

Can we get an update on what is happening right now? Time lines shifting, storylines are melting, what is happening right now Mr Vox?

Fuck me, do you have any idea how hard that’s gonna be? Here’s the thing: right now, there’s a bit of funkiness in the timelines due to a momentary distortion. When Retep died and ripped open the NRWE portal, it elongated time waves and blah blah blah, timey whimy shit, let’s talk about recent developments!

The Beach Event- this is the next Joy Event after the Promenade fiasco. Let’s do a quick roll call! Adina, as the host, had to attend. Lee slipped up the Heaven with Vienna and Peyton to enjoy the beach day. Junior, Domino, Tits, and Lefty also made it up there, with a small boost from Emily herself, who was attending with the Ass/Shamira combo. Sadie and Lute attended, and got distracted, but that will come in time. Milan made an unexpected appearance… if you wanna call it that. Uh, Ava and Timp were there, being cute. Fuck, there’s a lot of these little shits. Who am I- oh, fuck, Sera and Ray! They attended, too.

Okay, now, as for what happened there... shit, that's a lot. Lute caught sight of Peyton and had a 'friendly' conversation filled with death threats while Sadie found Milan face down in the sand and gave her a... well... it was a pep talk, but it didn't put much pep into that fanta headed idiot. Can't be too surprised, though. V got to reunite with her little Exorcist friends, Ava and Timpani. They're cute little shits together, can't begrudge them that! Oh, and that piece of shit Adina got to see her fucking Bugaboo again. Ugh, kill me. They were remarkably tolerable, though, with Lee holding Adina's leash and pulling her back whenever that insufferable ego got too big. The Shamira/Ass combo, however, managed to make enemies everywhere they went, it seems. First, Domino decided to hit on Emily, which pissed off the guardian/murder angels, and then they ran into Lee and Adina, at which point we find out that Adina is the reason Emily moved away from the palace, which set Ass/Shamira and Lee as enemies, threatening each other over that. Too much protective top energy in a small space. Oh, and somewhere in all of this, Sera decided to adopt Ray and shun Grace while also using Ray to replace Emily, which sent Emily on a short spiral that she got fucked out of while Shamira and Ass tried playing nice and accomplished fuck all. There's also a beach volleyball game between Lute and Sadie against Lee and Adina going on. So that's... a thing. Apparently, bitches can play nice, when their leash is held tight enough. Kinda ironic that a day meant to chill everyone out ended up introducing SO much more beef for a lot of folks.

Now, the beach event is still technically happening but, again, Retep's shenanifuckery messed with the timelines, so now we have some other shit going on, too. Sarai got charged by Sera after the beach day to become a guardian angel to try and shed her apprentice status, and she got some pointers from Emily on how to deal with mortals in general. She ends up meeting her mortal, Lana, and fucking up MAJORLY but that's because she's the failswan and doomed to forever fuck shit up until she accepts that perfection ain't possible. Whomp whomp.

Oh, uh, and Sadie ended up linking up with Ava at some point, tennis or pickleball? It has rackets and I play golf; anyway, that's when Ava gets clued in that Milan's been acting so fucky because she's been under the spell of Adina's venom and decides to be a good friend about it, so we'll see how this ends up.

Uh... oh! And, keep this hush hush, but, I happen to have the inside scoop about some things. When Lefty and Tits get back from the beach day, they're gonna find out that Righty is missing- and no one knows where she went! She didn't leave much of a note or anything. She even managed to dodge my cameras! They haven't gotten back yet, though, so here we are, waiting for that shoe to drop. Oh, and Ass and Shamira are about to find out the hard way that they've got some very different ideas about how to handle things.

And in between all this mess, Carmilla is harassing Vaggie into being a better mom (haha, she probably doesn't even know Righty's missing yet, man she's not getting any better at this; Charlie really needs to step up to the fucking plate) and adopting every fucking Exorcist she can find while I've been focusing on these new employment practices I got sent by Ozzie. That fucker has an amazing HR department.

The craziest thing about all this? It's not everything. I've missed so much! There's so many of them getting up to so much!

[give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back]

Wrote a little ficlet about Cas beating John’s ass in heaven. Enjoy my little spite-driven story :)

Link

When John Winchester makes it to heaven he's very relieved.

God knows how he wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, how sometimes his temper got the best of him, but apparently that wasn’t enough to get a one way ticket to downstairs.

His house is the same as the old Winchester home down on earth. He's sitting on the same porch he has known for so many years,it slightly creaks as he moves in his chair. He sips his perfectly cold beer, a soft summer breeze blows by. It's perfect.

Until it isn't.

He doesn't know who this weird guy in the trenchcoat is, he's never seen him before in his life, but he doesn't look exactly friendly as he appears out of nowhere and storms towards him. And are his eyes are glowing? What the fuck?

"John Eric Winchester!"

The guy his voice is loud, almost impossibly, and deep and gravely. John won't admit that this stranger that is currently standing about two feet away from him (hasn’t he ever heard of personal space?)and is screaming in his face is actually quite intimidating.

"How on earth you selfish, hateful piece of filth have managed to make it to heaven is beyond me."

What the hell is this guy on about?He doesn't even know him. John rights his back, showing whoever this crazy person is that he's not afraid.

"What's your problem,huh? I never even met you-"

"My problem -" Shit, his eyes are glowing again, though the rando was deemed slightly less intimidating by his use of airquotes -" is that you are a horrible father, with medieval morals and the anger issues of an average toddler."

"Listen up,dick. You don't even know me. You know nothing about my sons or the way I raised them I-" John protests.

Cas intterups him with a scoff. "Oh,I know your sons very well. Dean most of all. In fact, I talked to him only two minutes ago."

There’s a smug crooked smile on the stranger's face that doesn't reach his eyes. John doesn't like it one bit. It's almost like he had just told half a joke, waiting to drop the punchline.

"He woke up next to me from a nightmare. He told me he dreamt about a case you sent him on on his seventeenth birthday to "teach him a lesson" (those fucking airquotes again)? Forcing him to exterminate two nuns that were in love with eachother? Sounds familiar?" The guy spits at him seething with anger.

John should probably start thinking about what exactly he's hinting at, but his brain short-circuits after the first part of his sentence.

"That's impossible. You're a dude."

This seems to throw him off. He tilts his head and squints at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're a dude. Dean ain’t a fag, he ain’t-" This was apparently the wrong thing to say.

John is quickly hit with the realisation that this man probably isn't human when his fist lands on his face and not only breaks his nose, but absolutely crushes it. He feels the bones shatter as his nose is stumped entirely flat against his face. The tears start streaming before he can stop them.

"Never talk this respectless about your son ever again or I will personally drag you back to hell myself, is that clear?"

John cradles his nose with his hands and nods.

"Good." John hears the faint rustling of feathers and the asshole has gone as quick as he came.

--

When Cas appears in Dean’s bedroom he is still confused. He had just told Cas about a case he had been working with on his dad on his 17th birthday, when the angel had dissapeared immediately without saying anything.

"Cas what the hell? Where did you go?"

"Shh" Cas soothes him as he gently kisses his forhead. "Go back to sleep. I just payed a visit to your dad."

"My dad?" Dean is half convinced he's still dreaming because that doesn't make any sense.

"Yes. He called you a slur regarding your sexuality, so I punched him in the face and broke his nose."

Yes, now he's sure. He must be dreaming. This is simply to absurd to be real. Time to sleep.

Dean mumbles after he quickly presses a chaste kiss into Cas his cheek. "Good Night, Sweetheart."

His eyelids fall and sleep takes him under.

[abovecalamity]

If I may - I tried to match the reaction pics to the stories. hehe.

Fic that made me laugh: Monopolistic position by @sassymillenialscorpio Fernando/Lewis - 1.1k - n/r Crack. Fun. Short.

“I said I don’t have enough money.” He looked up just in time to see the wolfish smile appear on Fernando’s face.

Fic that made me cry: sanctuary by @sunshinesebby Charles/Seb - 233k (so far) - E Despair. Three am read. Reading that pulls you in and will never let you go again, ever.

"People will eat moldy food or contaminated water over starving every time, in the end. It's the hope. Maybe you will survive the poison, but you know you won't survive the starving. It's so human."

Fic that gave me a story hangover: One thousand laps of Jeddah by @ininininininstayoutstayout George centric - 68k - G Literally concern increasing bit by bit. Organised insanity. My love for time loops is thriving. I'm constantly thinking about this.

It’s a special kind of torture, devised just for George. There are only two constants, as far as he can tell; tomorrow is always today, and George will fuck up everything that he tries. Someone somewhere must really, really hate him.

Fic I want to discuss book-club style: Parallel Players by @parallelplayers George/Lance - 414k (so far) - E A whole ass alternative timeline and so much detail. I want to talk about it forever. Glance manifesto.

“Uh, this is - how long is this gonna be?” Seventy five slides, but it was laid out with five introductory slides, forty Lance slides, fifteen slides Fernando, and then ten analysis, questions and conclusion slides. “You asked me for my opinion.”

It's George's world, we're all just living in it basically.

Fic that got me a little flustered: Kamikaze by @pitconfirm George/Lance - 12.4k - E Altered my brain chemistry. Oh my. Always pausing when reading for the overwhelming feelings that flush my brain.

George is fucked.  He’d thought it was bad before; desperately wanting Lance to hate him. However, wanting Lance to like him is indescribably worse.

Fic by one of my fave authors: bedrooms in budapest by @merenwenformulauno Fernando/Lance - 4.3 k - E Start of a great series. Obsessed with the characterisation. Sad for everyone that misses out on this.

Dimly, Lance thinks back to other times he has found himself with Fernando in his hotel room. Had the Spaniard bottled it before? It seems ridiculous to think someone like Fernando Alonso might have been intimidated by Lance.

Fic I reread more than once: tbh I reread almost every good fic all the time. maybe we got lost (in translation) by @alpinelogy Esteban&/Lance - 6.7k - T Language struggles, so relatable. Feeds into my obsession with Lesteban. Again, communication centric ahhh!

The consonants feel weird, clunky, so much different from the free flowing French ones. Even so, the feel of it isn't bad, it's different but not bad. He hums a bit in thought, “I guess I am a beanpole.” He says in French but repeats the word in English again.

Fic I sent to everyone I know: If not, I'm sending it to you now: cassini's descent by basedchamp Lewis/Seb - 3.3k - T SPACE. Atmosphere description over the moon. Lonely together.

On Mars, men do not deny themselves. Sebastian reaches out and tucks a braid behind Lewis’ ear. Lewis leans into his hand, just a touch, and they sit like this, across from each other with Westminster Palace between them.

Fic that made me fall in love with an author: Heaven’s Gates Won’t Open Up for Me by @lil-shiro Fernando/Lance - 6k - E Wings. Love. After reading this, there was no turning back on any fic of yours.

Fernando never once thought that Lance would be the one to ruin him. The undefined variable in his equation, the unknown. I should’ve known better, he thinks to himself while looking up to the other in flying circles above his head. Oh well, he’ll just have to live with it.

I've read many many many more great fics this year as well. What a great year for the reader inside me.

[fatuismooches]

hi :) i see your responses to my asks :) i see your reblogs :) i am absolutely not about to add sodium to the tea i am having rn :)

in all seriousness though oh my goodness smooches ;; i am glad i decided to take a little break from writing for now and be greeted with an influx of notifications alongside your responses to my asks and reblogs to the little thingies i published, just the perfect obliteration my heart needed to perfect my night <3

in response to your excitement about my kabuki series, ME TOO !! good god you don't know how over the damn moon i am just thinking about tomorrow like .. i should probably get a breather because this much excitement, while not new to me because i'm always excited, is about to annihilate my heart lmao

and now in response to your reblog of my fatui kuni drabble, yes. fucking yes. sorry excuse my language BUT. I GET IT. dearest when i tell you it's something i think about a lot — that drabble is actually what i wrote back when i was taking a walk near the seashore about i believe two weeks ago! but that aside, walks around snezhnaya with scara are like everything to me. like imagine him accompanying you to town or along the outskirts — very and i mean very attentively listens to you musings about everything and nothing because he doesn't have much to offer in comparison to what he wholeheartedly believes to be heaven in your eyes as you talk about very simple things ( i shall cut my rambling there because i have a whole series for fatui kuni that is primarily themed around that concept hehe ).

as for the 'nushi thesis...............

oops ~

no but this bitch had me on a chokehold for SO LONG, that i ended up writing not only lore but many, many other things as well from the small to the big deadass ended up being a presentation because i have arranged a design sheet and even chose a fucking theme for him. but king deserves it so (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

there is so much i could say right now, so much i can express but bloody hell i like, can't because i have successfully melted into a puddle out of sheer joy :')

YOUR HCS FOR KABUKI BTW ARE SO SO REAL !! SPEAK YOUR TRUTH QUEEN !!

goodness .. dear smooches, dear mutual, dear fellow tea addict /lh lover, to say that your responses have made my night would be one of the biggest understatements i've ever made in life :') like omg i am thinking of a way i could respond to every little thing you mentioned in your responses to my asks and in your reblogs, but i think the bright smile painting my puffy face rn is more than indicative of how genuinely thankful and happy i am 🤍

thank you and incredible lot. i hope mundanities with kabukimono hits in all the right ways and you get to enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing for it. i cannot wait to walk this journey with you and many others <3

— signed with much ( platonic ) love, ayame.

( don't tell kuni that i almost cried because tumblr ate the ask i previously sent you, please and thank you :') ).

the way i am actually about to cry because tumblr keeps having the ask i sent you just a minute ago as a meal............. i swear to god if this one gets sent unlike the other i am going to swallow a biscuit whole /j /nsrs

AYAME NOOOO IM SO SO SORRY TUMBLR CAN BE AN ASS LIKE THAT SOMETIMES 😭😭 But i am so glad to have received this ask from you omg, i love it sm ❤️ And you don't even need to thank me, I'm always happy to support and gush over your writing :)) I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND ABOUT BEING EXCITED TO POST there have been a bunch of times when i wanted to just post something at that instant instead of waiting (kabukimono series was an example when i literally posted back to back instead of spacing it out, i was SO READY 😭)

AND NGL YOU LITERALLY OPENED MY MIND TO SNEZHNAYAN WALKS WITH KUNI... i never thought about it before but. MWAH. i love the idea because i love walks and the cold especially if Kuni will be there to keep me warm hehe. Him being a silent listener is so so cute and real because you think he doesn't listen but then he brings up something random you said weeks ago and your heart just goes boom. (I propose to you now, you and Wanderer visiting Mondstadt/ Dragonspine and walking along the snowy path there too! Wanderer just has so much overflowing memories of the two of you doing the same thing in Snezhnaya, but you don't remember :( but at least he has a second chance with you to make new memories)

OH MY GOSH THE KURONUSHI STUFF EBWDBEWF bro. i so understand because when i saw him there i was excited beyond words. like FINALLY we were getting some Scara lore after like a year or something?? i also remember being sad that the furniture for the teapot wouldn't change to his picture :( but omg i love your dedication to him sm ITS SO SWEET I CAN'T WAIT TO READ MORE ABOUT YOUR THOUGHTS ON KURO BC IM SO INTERESTED.

AGAIN IM REALLY GLAD MY SILLY RAMBLES MADE YOU SMILE!! *HUGS YOU* AND I TOO CANT WAIT TO EXPERIENCE YOUR KABUKI SERIES!! ILY TOO!! ❤️❤️

[thepaintedlady00]

Nightshade

Chapter 14 | Chapter 16

Chapter 15: Wet On Wet

TW: some sensually themed dreams, language as always, mentions of smoking and drinking (as always), mentions of past violence and minor injuries, some minor violence (the friendly kind this time), fluff, some Simone, some Howard, Jake & Olive finally get to have that heart to heart 😈👀, Jake and Lena are shameless flirts, a bit of light somewhat smut (oral, fem receiving), flashbacks and a good old cliffhanger to really torture you guys. SO sorry for the wait! As many of you know I had some work stuff going on, but things are finally slowing down and I'm hoping I'll be able to really get back on track with these fics. I did my best editing this long ass chapter (38 freakin pages), so as always sorry if there are any mistakes! Enjoy!

The slight chill that swept into the room brought goosebumps to my flesh, though I couldn’t really know for sure if it was the breeze or the sensation of Jake’s lips dragging down my neck. I knew outside it was cold, but I didn't feel it, even with the window open. I felt warm, almost smothered in heat. “Jake.”

His lips curled into a smile against my collarbone as he hummed, a thing he knew sent shivers down my spine. “Lena.”

“You’re tickling me,” I teased, wiggling in his arms.

With a huff, he lifted his head away from me, looking down at me with that dumb smile that warned of his coming mischief. “Am I? I had no idea.”

“Don’t you dar- JAKE!” I shrieked as his fingers ghosted up my ribs, lips resuming the light touches, tickling me in earnest now.

I rolled, just barely managing to escape his hold on me, darting forward into the hazy space of undefined shapes and lights. I only got a few steps in before his arms wound around my waist and hauled me back to his bed. A faint feeling sparked in my chest. Not the fear or the anger or the shame I expected. Not some old ache. It was something new, something almost foreign to me.

Laughter filled the room. My laughter. I rolled over again, my senses swarmed by the smell of his cologne as my face hit his blankets. His fingers traced the tattoo along my spine as I turned my head to look at him. Jake always looked like the perfect mix of heaven and hell, of sin and saint, of peace and war. He had a way of drawing me in that I didn't fully understand but that I didn't want to fight against anymore. "I like you."

His smile made me feel alive as he shifted closer with a light laugh. I dodged his kiss, burying myself in his blankets, listening to his infectious laughter as he joined me. "I think you might like my bed better than me, though."

"Maybe I do," I joked. "It is really comfy."

"It's certainly better than your bed."

I scoffed. "I'll have you know that bed is very comfortable! I've slept sixteen years on it, and each one has been glorious!"

"Jesus, sixteen years?" Jake replied, finding me beneath the covers. "No wonder it's all lumpy."

"I like lumpy," I retorted, scrunching up my nose at him as he pulled me in close. "And so do you."

An amused look of curiosity made him look younger as he settled his head against his arm. "Do I?"

I nodded, smoothing my hands down his shirt. "Everything I own has lumps. My mattress, my favorite pillow." My throat tightened as I chose my next words quietly, "I'm lumpy." Jake's eyes softened, and his smile turned into a sweet one. "And you like me… Right?"

"Yeah, I like you, princess." His lips were like silk against my own, slow and unhurried, passionate but not at all demanding. Safe.

My eyes shot open, and for a split second, the feel of a bandage against my neck made me panic. Patrick's industrial snoring was quick to banish all my fears as he tossed himself onto his side, putting his loud mouth right next to my head. Peter was curled up like a cat on the opposite side of me, his head of peach fuzz tickling the side of my face. Outside in the living room, I could hear Dom tidying up after himself. I lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, that odd feeling my dream had caused to stir inside me slowly starting to dim.

Feelings like that, the warm and fuzzy things that nestled deep into the soul and opened people up from the inside out, they were dangerous. This world was filled with too many people who took advantage of others and used feelings of warmth, love, and safety to manipulate, lie, and abuse. I could practically hear my mother's voice, whispering loving words one moment and then spitting insults at me the next. Alongside thoughts of her, he was never close behind. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths, focusing on where I was now. Somewhere truly safe. Not some dream. Not with a stranger. Home. 

Only when Dom ran into the corner of the table and loudly cursed did my brothers stir. Patrick’s snoring abruptly stopped, and he sat upright, slowly sliding off the bed. Peter simply opened his eyes, still looking tired as he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Table?”

“Yeah!” Dom hollered back.

Patrick yawned, stretching before standing up from the floor and heading to my bedroom door. “You staying for breakfast?”

The shadow of the large biker was all I could see of him as he met Patrick outside the door. “Sure, I ain’t got anywhere to be yet.”

“How's the neck?” Peter asked, slowly sitting up and looking over at me.

I touched the bandage and shrugged. “It’s fine. Like Oz said, it was just a little scratch.”

He nodded, watchful eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “It wasn't as bad as some of the other times. Watching Dom get all… That was the worst of it."

"I'll be the last one to act like that guy didn't have it coming, but I'm glad Dom snapped out of it before things got too ugly. You did seem a lot more present after it all this time," Peter agreed. "I still figured I'd ask, though."

I rubbed his head and smiled at him. "I know. You're just doing your brotherly duties and whatnot."

He shrugged, standing up with a stiff groan. "Well, shower and change. I'll try to salvage breakfast."

I listened to him leave, greeting Dom with fondness and then attempting to help Patrick with cooking. Throwing the blanket over my head, I fumbled for my phone before flipping it open and wincing at the screen's bright light. I answered Prue and Quinn's messages of concern, and then, without hesitation, I opened Jake's contact.

I'm alive! I texted. You know, just in case you were feeling hopeful that you were finally rid of me.

After spending a few more minutes listening to the sounds of my brothers bickering over breakfast and Dom making awkward small talk, I got ready for the day. The shower water was warm and relaxing, and soon the smell of savory bacon and slightly sweet pancakes wafted into the bathroom. I changed the larger bandage around my neck for a smaller one, meant to hopefully not draw too much attention.

"Holy shit, you didn't burn anything," I remarked, stepping out of the bathroom and drying my hair with a towel.

Patrick nodded, patting himself on the back. "I'm gettin' kinda good at this cooking shit.” He set a plate down in front of Dom and smiled at me. “Better watch your back, lil sis. Looks like I'm comin' for your fancy cook title."

The biker took a bite of the pancakes and shook his head. “These taste like shit.”

“Fuck you!”

Peter kept his nose buried in his paper, quietly sipping his coffee as I took my seat at the table. Ozzy's loud steps echoed up the stairwell as he joined us with a smile. "Good morning, little misfits."

"Morning," we mumbled back.

He settled into the empty chair at the head of the table and tapped my arm. “I see you’ve changed the bandage. How is it looking?”

“It’s just a scratch,” I reassured him with a smile. “But thanks for helping patch me up last night.”

“Always, my dear.”

Patrick set the plate of food down in front of Ozzy, who looked at it with raised brows. “They’re letting you cook now?”

He rolled his eyes and sat down beside me. “Joke all you want, but you’ll all eat it anyway!”

“Or,” Peter spoke above his newspaper. “We could go to Nanas.”

“Rude,” Patrick huffed. “All of you.”

Ozzy took a few bites, swallowing them down with large gulps of coffee before he turned to me again. “I almost forgot! I’ve been emptying the storage unit behind the bar and found your paintings!”

I played with my food and sighed. “Are they taking up too much space?”

“Afraid so,” he chuckled. “I forgot how many you did.”

“Me too.”

Dom wiped his mouth and set his dishes in the sink. “Me and the boys can take them to your place if you want.”

“Aren’t you guys busy?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I’ve got time to spare.”

“Okay, that’d be a lot of help. Thanks, Dom.”

“No problem, kid,” he said, still looking a bit awkward as he passed me with a hesitant pat on the shoulder. “See you later.”

My phone buzzed on the tabletop, bringing a smile to my face but at the same time making those warm feelings start to bubble up again. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

Patrick glanced over my shoulder and smirked. “You two are just adorable.”

“Shut up!” I shoved him, moving back into my room to grab my bag. That’s rough. I hate to tell you, but you’ll never be rid of me now, Sweetie.

*

He smiled down at his phone, reading Lena's message once, twice, before replying. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.

That's rough. I hate to tell you, but you'll never be rid of me now, Sweetie. Jake could hear her evil cackling in his head, a sign, perhaps, that he'd been spending too much time with the redheaded minx of a woman.

Smirking down at his lap, his fingers slid across the keys. I'll never recover.

Simone cleared her throat, sipping her mug of coffee with dead, predatory eyes, and like a child caught playing with a forbidden toy, Jake's back went ramrod straight. Her red-lined lips curled into something between a scowl and a smile. "What's funny?"

"What?"

"You've been smiling, practically giggling to yourself since we sat down." She set her mug down and wildly gestured with her hands before moving them to settle under her chin. "So, what's funny?"

Jake's mood almost instantly deflated as he shrugged. "I don't - it's nothing."

She hummed, clearly unhappy with his answer. "How typical."

"Simone-"

"No," she replied, softer as her shoulders fell and she looked defeated. "I didn't ask you to come to yell at you, Jake. I just… I miss you."

For the first time in months, he saw the softer side of Simone - the side that had raised him. She blinked a few tears away as she straightened in her seat, clearing her throat to keep her voice from breaking. Guilt filled him, a sense that he'd been neglecting her… Abandoning her made him sick to his stomach. "I miss you too. I'm… I'm sorry things have been so strained."

She smiled, a thoughtful look taking over her sad face. “It’s not entirely your fault. I’m guilty of letting things get to this point as well. What matters is we’re still here… Together.”

“Always,” he replied softly, a calm reassurance washing over him.

From there, things flowed smoothly. Conversation with Simone returned to how it always was, natural, honest, and open. The two of them laughed together and caught one another up with the gossip of the restaurant. She took a drink of her coffee and laughed. “It’s been rather enjoyable watching Howard freak out every night.”

Jake laughed with her. “Hell yeah, it has been. I don’t know what’s been going on with the schedule, but I have been thoroughly enjoying it.”

There was a short moment where Jake thought he saw something fill her eyes, a look of knowledge and a slight quirk of her lips before she covered it with a sigh. “It has made me a bit worried at times.”

“Worried?”

“For the others,” she answered. “Sasha and Ari and the lot of them haven’t exactly had things easy lately. I just hope they’re all doing alright under all the pressure.”

Jake smiled, a fond, warm feeling filling his chest as it appeared that Simone had gone back to how she’d always been. Kind and loving, and concerned for those around her. She helped people with things, and she was much better at it than he was. “They’ve been alright as far as I can tell. Ari’s got a girlfriend to help keep her grounded. Heather’s got that cook she’s been seeing. Scott’s Scott. Sasha’s sober-”

“Sasha’s sober?” Simone asked, eyes slightly wider in shock.

“Yeah,” he replied. “He has been for a while now.”

“Interesting.” She mused.

His phone vibrated again, and that smile returned to his face. Aww, don’t worry, tough guy. I’ll try to make the time as enjoyable as possible.

"So, how is your new fling?" Simone suddenly asked, smiling with that gleam in her eyes she always got when he gossiped to her. "Anyone I know?"

"No," Jake said, shaking his head. "It's nothing like that."

There was a long pause, a silence that was as stiff and unnatural as the skyscrapers that surrounded them. "You will tell me when that changes… Won't you?"

Jake caught her meaning without her having to voice it. Simone was asking him to be honest with her about the nature of things with Lena. He nodded, responding with a chuckle meant to put her at ease. "Trust me, I don't think you'll have to worry about anything like that."

“That’s good,” she said. “Though I have been meaning to ask if Lena has been alright lately. After everything with her mother and the stress I unknowingly caused, I’ve been worried about her.”

“She’s been alright,” Jake assured her. Simone made a noise, her brow arching slightly. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”

“Oh no,” she said, waving him off. “She’s not said anything to me, but she does seem like the type that would keep things like that bottled up to spare others.”

“And you think she’s been doing that?”

Simone shrugged before reaching over the table and holding his hand. “Breathe, love. You know her better than I do, so if she seems normal to you, then I’m sure she’s fine.”

It was then that Jake realized that ever since he’d left the bar last night, a feeling… hideous and slightly selfish had plagued him. He’d watched the entire encounter and had prepared himself for the worst. He was ready to follow Lena to The Cape, but instead, she was fine. She appeared a bit dazed, but after a minute or two, she’d reached out, touched him, and held a casual conversation as though nothing had happened. It was a pattern he’d taken note of early on, the way she would brush off serious moments where her life was in danger and push forward without second thought or care. He’d found it odd the first time and had written it off as them not being close enough for sharing deep emotions. But now, it was clear she did this often enough.

He had no clue why she’d care so little about her own safety, but that feeling, as ugly as it was, was something valid. He was frustrated. Angry that she didn’t even blink when someone threw a rock through her window intended for her. Angry that she’d reacted so little after almost drowning in the ocean or getting cut with a knife. Angry that Lena Harrow, a woman that meant more to him than words could express, had not even considered just how important her life was to him, to all of them. As Jake walked to work with Simone beside him, the feeling festered.

*

I watched the drones of people passing by the diner where Prue and Quinn ate their breakfast, my mind still letting that dream play. It wasn't like dreaming of Jake was new. I'd had at least a dozen over the past months, but those were… They were sexual, raw things fueled by the underlying well of desire that everyone had. Jake being at the center was just proximity. Having not had sex in a while didn't help the dreams die down. But that dream was different.

There was nothing too sexual, nothing that compared to the others, but I felt impossibly more shaken by it than those. It wasn't about Jake but about how I felt in an unknown place… How I didn't react at all when he grabbed me. Instead of falling into a terrifying memory of Tony or my mother when his arms had wrapped around me, I was flooded with warmth. I was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was safe. Jake made me feel safe.

It was just a dream, I reminded myself. But even that reminder couldn't account for all the other times Jake had made me feel that way. Times I'd apparently been able to ignore until now. Dreams often made little sense, they were a science still discussed and debated among even the brightest minds. Yet one thing everyone agreed on was that dreams were messages sent by our subconscious to warn us of threats and to help us realize things of importance. That knowledge only made me feel more confused. Was Jake a threat? Or was he something important? Was this dream meant to be a warning or some realization?

A hand waved in front of me, pulling my attention to Prue as she asked, with furrowed brows and concern in her eyes, "You're being quiet. Is everything okay?"

I sighed. "Just in my head. Sorry."

Quinn rolled her eyes, saying and signing, "Let me guess. This is about your little bartender?"

I answered with my middle finger.

Quinn returned the gesture with ease as Prue shook her head at us. "Is something the matter between you two?"

"No."

"Then why the long face?" She wondered.

Buttering a biscuit, Quinn snorted. "Here's a crazy solution to your sour mood. Fuck. Him. I'm telling you, it'll solve all your problems."

"It's not that." This caught her attention. "I… I had a dream about-"

"Ohh, my god!" Quinn interrupted with a whine, throwing her head back. "I love you to death, Lena, but I swear to Christ, if you're trying to pass another sex dream off as platonic, I'm going to throttle you!"

"Shut up!" I insisted. "It wasn't… The dream was normal."

"No sex?" 

"We weren't even fully naked."

"Interesting," Quinn cooed, wiggling her brows. "Sounds like you've got some real feelings to unpack."

I shook my head and set it in my hands. "I knew there were feelings. I mean, of course, I like Jake, he's my friend, and he's…" With a heavy sigh, I melted into the booth. "It was more about how I felt."

The slight shifting breeze in front of my covered face told me Prue was attempting to get my attention, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Quinn cleared her throat and kicked the seat beside me. "Well, how did you feel?"

"Warm," I answered softly. "Safe."

There was a moment of quiet as Quinn translated for Prue. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

I knew the question was Prue's before I even lowered my hands to see Quinn's face. She understood. Having been my friend since we were younger, Quinn knew why feelings of warmth… Of safety were so dangerous. It was because, in this life, safety was more often than not just a fancy lie, an illusion, people told themselves to keep from thinking about all the horrible things in the world. Things that could and did happen. Things that happened to me and Quinn and Patrick and Dom and Jake and Ozzy and everyone else that was unlucky enough.

Prue didn't have life easy either, but she grew up under different circumstances, better ones. She grew up in a stable home with two parents that loved and protected her. Quinn and I had always agreed on the simple fact that Prue was the best of us. Funny, talented, confident, and, most importantly, kind, she made everything better. As I looked into Quinn's eyes, it was as if we'd shared the same thought. We make everything worse.

We held that thought for a moment before Quinn nodded, a silent acknowledgment, a gesture meant to reassure me that my feelings… My fears were valid. It had taken me, taken everyone I knew with similar mountains of trauma, years to trust anyone, even family. Yet, I trusted Jake… I felt safe with him after just a few months of knowing him. It was frightening and entirely foreign and not something I'd expected or realized fully before now.

Prue tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. Beautiful and kind, Prue said, "Good or bad, you still have us."

"Thanks," I whispered, signing a quick but no less heartfelt, "I love you guys."

Her eyes shifted to my plate. "Are you going to eat that bacon?"

I set the greasy meat on her plate, smiling as she tugged me into her side and kissed my cheek. A different kind of warmth, simple and innocent, eased my conflicting feelings. Though some feelings still seemed to make me tense and confused, love certainly wasn't one of them anymore.

When I arrived at 22West the chaos was palpable. While the bikers that had secretly tailed me waited outside, casually moving through the busy crowds of people and traffic and hanging out in the old bodega across the street, I was thrust into a kitchen of sweltering heat, and Scott hurriedly rushed the team through prep. 

"Holy shit," I breathed.

Scott's scowl was set as he glanced up at me. "Hurry and change. All hands on deck."

"What's going on?"

"The fuck do you think?"

"Another scheduling mixup?"

"Yep." He shook his head, taking a sharpened knife and chopping an onion. "Now hurry up!"

I rushed to the staircase, hurrying up each step. "Yes, chef!"

Jake barely flinched when I collided with his chest. With a chuckle, he steadily me. "Easy there, princess, no need to throw yourself at me."

"You're so funny," I replied, slipping past him with a smile. "Scott's freaking out, so I gotta get ready."

He leaned against the door frame. "How's your neck?"

I halted in the quick stripping of my shoes and looked at him, tentatively pressing my fingers to the bandage that kept the small cut covered. "It's fine."

"Some asshole almost cut your throat open," he replied, almost angry. "And you're just fine?"

"I…" Sighing, I shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

Jake shook his head. "That seems to be the theme, doesn't it?"

"What's crawled up your ass today? You seemed fine with it all last night."

Mimicking my shrug, he held my gaze. "Maybe I just realized you'll never really let anyone help you."

"That's not fair." I glared at him. "And not true."

"What's not fair is you just expecting me to not say anything when you almost die because of some crazy person throwing a rock through your window and putting a knife to your neck." He paused and relaxed his tense posture slightly. "I was scared. When I shoved through that crowd and saw you covered in blood… I was scared, Lena."

"I…" Fear was an odd thing for people like me. People that had seen and lived through horrors most people never knew. Shocked would have been a more accurate word, but I doubted Jake cared about the words I used. "I'm sorry about last night being so fucked and about acting like it didn't happen."

"It's not your fault that it happened," he assured me. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to pretend like any of this is normal."

I chuckled and put my shoes in my locker. "It's not normal, but for me, it's not exactly out of the ordinary either."

He gave me a considering look. "Are you ever gonna explain what that means to me?"

"It's…" I turned away from him, focusing on my locker. "There's a lot of shit I've put behind me, or have tried to, and some of it comes with some nasty people that wanna fuck my shit up." For a minute, I really missed having my dad's jacket. I missed the comfort it brought me in situations like this. "I want to tell you about it. I do. But it's… It's not easy."

Jake moved like he was water, his silent steps bringing him beside me. His arms wrapped around me awkwardly. "Look, I get it. Just… don't forget you matter. Your life, your peace, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, matters."

That warmth, that sickly sweet feeling of safety and security, was back. It was wrapped around me, smothering me in Jake. His cologne, his voice, the feel of his arms around me, the faint memory of his leather jacket, the memories of every dream I'd had of him. Oh, how I wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling forever. But that tainted, ugly, corrupted voice that was still so entangled in my very being made doubt and fear wash over that feeling.

I carefully turned, offering Jake a slightly tense smile. "Thank you."

It was clear he could sense the sudden tenseness that had filled me, but with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Jake let it be. The commotion of the kitchen grew unimaginable now as Scott's loud voice echoed through the stairwell. Jake smirked, unable to hide the enjoyment he got from everyone going insane. "Better get down there, or Scott's gonna start throwing things."

"And you wouldn't?"

"I don't," he replied. "I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

The cocky grin he sent me on his way out made my heart sputter. Watching the doorway for a second too long after he left, I shook my head of the less-than-work-appropriate thoughts and resumed changing. Scott had the kitchen in full swing as I hopped between the open positions, turning the chaos of the night into something better.

Everyone was in a horrible mood. The cooks shoved and bickered over having no space while the servers fought among themselves over petty things. Simone's never wavering smile made me irrationally heated, but it was Olive's loud and obnoxious voice filling every moment of silence with overconfident boasting and pointless jabbering that really made things difficult. Still, I kept my head up, and I found ways to lighten the tension.

Sasha barreled through the doors and stuck a finger in Heather's face. "You pampered privileged brat!"

"Oh fuck off!" She sneered, shoving his finger out of her face.

Scott groaned, throwing his rag down and stepping in between them. "What the fuck is going on?"

"She stole my sale!" Sasha insisted. "Sneaky cunt talked my take into another bottle of wine, but now they want her to get the tip."

"I wouldn't have had to step in if you'd paid attention to your tables."

The two of them raged like feral street cats. "ENOUGH!" All eyes turned to me. "My god, pull it together! Heather split the tip with Sasha. Sasha, kiss the guest's asses better. And everyone get the fuck back to work!"

Silence filled the kitchen as Isaac and another cook slid five plates onto the outgoing table. "Um… Table fifteen is up."

Sasha took three plates, turning and looking at Heather. "Follow me?"

"Yeah," she replied with a sigh, picking up the leftover dishes.

Scott and I rejoined the line, working quickly to make up for the time lost by the distraction. "You did good. Those morons would've been at it all night."

I laughed. "Everyone's just under a lot of pressure."

"Well, you seem to handle it better than most."

"Thanks chef." 

Everyone soldiered on through the remainder of the night, luckily no more petty fights broke out and while overbooked the guests seemed easy enough to please. By the end of service I was standing next to Santos helping him and the rest of the dishwashers finish up all while making jokes and telling stories to help  keep everyone's spirits high. The servers hurried upstairs, Simone sparing me a smile as she walked past without Olive by her side.

"Tiger!" Sasha shouted. "Have I ever told you how positively annoying your infectious goodwill is?"

"No."

He smiled, squeezing my cheek. "Well, It's absolutely horrendous and I hate it."

"Love you too Russian bastard," I replied. He flipped me off and headed up the stairs.

*

The night had been horrible, truly one of the worst ones since all the scheduling fuck ups began. Jake heard multiple squabbles echoing from the kitchen and wine cellar, but lucky for the sloppy servers he was good at his job. Nicky finished taking stock of the bar while Jake counted tips, hoping to finish before the group returned looking to drown their shitty moods. "Did you make good money tonight?"

The voice was sweet, sickly so, and he turned his head to find Olive sliding into the space beside him. Here we go, he thought, turning his attention away from her. "Can't complain."

"Well you are rather charismatic when you want to be," she said, running her fingers up his arm. "It's one of the things I like about you."

"Good lord," Nicky mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Jake sighed. Months ago, before Lena, he'd get a real kick out of Olive's whole act. Hell he probably would have fucked her a few times if she was a tolerant lay. But now, her constant presence and her attention was unwanted and unnecessary. "What's your game?"

"I'm gonna go get changed," Nicky said quickly as he fled from the bar.

"What do you mean?"

Jake gestured to her hair. "Are you just trying to prove some point or is this seriously you trying to replace Lena because your mom didn't love you enough?"

Olive pushed herself up against him, rolling her eyes. "I want you. No game. No fuss. Unlike some people I'm not afraid to go after what I want."

The dig at Lena was obvious and so wrong Jake laughed in her face. "You don't even know what you want. You think if you act like her, dress like her or look like her that everything will just magically click. Well, life's not that easy and neither am I."

"That's not what I've heard." She insisted, ignoring his insults. "I've heard the gossip, you haven't had sex in months. Months all because she wants to be an upright brat. You don't owe her anything Jake, and she's not going to give you what you want… What you deserve. So come on, what's stopping you?"

That's it. He set the money down, turning to face her fully. "I'll make this as clear as I can since you seem so slow. I don't want to fuck you. Most of the time I don't even want to look at you. You, Olive or Olivia whatever the fuck your name is, are pathetic. I. Don't. Want. You. I will never want you."

*

After finishing the dishes and telling Nicky I'd cover the bar for him I made my way toward the front. As I opened the door I just barely had time to move as Olive rushed out from behind the bar past me. “She doesn’t seem happy.”

“She’s probably not,” Jake replied with a thin smile.

“Should I be careful around the stairs?”

“You should be fine,” he said, walking toward me. “Guess she just can’t handle my charm.”

I laughed, standing my ground as he entered my space like all the times he’d done it before. “Well, her loss. You are quite charming."

He laughed a bit and shrugged. "You helping me with the masses tonight?"

"Looks like it."

"Good. I like having you behind a bar."

I smirked, pressing against his chest. "You haven't had me behind a bar." His eyes darkened as he caught my play on his words. "Yet."

His eyebrows rose. "Not gonna leave me hanging again?"

"You're really not gonna let that go are you?"

"Nope."

The crowd of coworkers was demanding after a long night of horrible service, but Jake and I made a good team. Eventually we all closed things down and Jake and I headed upstairs to change. Howard stood in the locker room, quickly straightening up as we entered. "Lena," his eyes darted to Jake. "I was hoping to speak with you before you left."

I folded my arms. "Speak then."

"In private."

"Am I fired?" I asked.

"No!" Howard answered quickly. He sighed, taking a step forward, one Jake almost matched. "I wanted to apologize. I knew things with your mother were… I… I shouldn't have put you in that position."

I nodded. "I'm glad you realize that and I accept your apology Howard."

He smiled. "Thank you. I…" Once again he looked at Jake and straightened his back. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Once he was gone Jake scoffed. "What a dick."

"Apologizing hardly makes someone a dick."

"Please," he insisted, changing. "He only did it to get back in your good graces. He didn't mean it."

I changed as well, shaking my head at him. "Howard's strict, but he's not horrible."

"Agree to disagree." He closed his locker, leaning back to watch me fix my top. "We going out tonight?"

I shrugged. "Ozzy's doing another karaoke night."

"Sounds fun." He stood up straight, following me out. "You gonna sing?"

"Fuck no." I bumped his shoulder. "Are you?"

"No," he laughed. "I don't think anyone wants to hear that."

"I do!" I replied, smiling at him. "I bet you're a good singer."

Smirking, he tilted his head. "Why's that?"

"Because you have such a pretty voice," I answered. "Especially when you're breathlessly whining my name."

Jake leaned in, breath caressing my face as he said, soft and slow, "You're it."

I hadn't felt the light touch of his hand on my shoulder until he hurried past our friends with two large strides. "That's cheating!"

*

On the stage, Patrick was spinning and dancing fancily, singing Enya's Orinoco Flow with every ounce of passion he could. The crowd of drunken patrons both booed and cheered him on. All of my friends that sat in our booth were in hysterics laughing. This kind of thing probably seemed odd to them, considering Patrick's build, appearance, and profession, but to me, this was a glimpse back into our childhood. Enya was always his favorite.

Sasha downed the last shot at the table and pointed at me. "Your dirty bitch ass is singing tonight!"

"Good luck with that," Quinn mumbled, taking a sip of her drink.

"Problem Quinn?" I asked.

She set her glass down, nodding. "You're being a buzzkill!"

Jake's smirk did little to help me contain my laugh. "How am I being a buzzkill?"

"You won't sing with us!" She whined. "Prue and I have been begging you every karaoke night! Last time it was because your grumpy bartender was throwing hands in the street. The time before that, you said your throat hurt. And so the excuses go on!"

I shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want to sing."

"But you're so good at it!" She continued. "And it's more fun with all of us! Prue won't even go up without both of us there."

Jake looked at me again, this time with a slightly raised brow. "Sounds like solid evidence to me, buzzkill."

Shoving my elbow into his arm, I cocked my head. "I'm a buzzkill now? I'll have to remember that next time you call me late at night."

"You were a buzzkill then, too," he retorted. "From what I understand, hanging up on a friend in a time of need is considered rude."

The crowd erupted into cheers as Patrick stepped off the stage with an over-exaggerated bow. He made his way to our table, accepting high fives and fiat jumps along the way until he reached his drink and chugged it. Breathlessly wiping the excess from his mouth, he smirked at me. "Are you going up tonight?"

Quinn nodded, making her eyes as big as possible as she pursued her lips out, begging me. I turned in my booth seat, resting fully against Jake and letting my legs stretch out over the empty seat. "Nope."

"Copperhead?" Quinn asked, glaring at me over the table. "Execute operation raccoon."

"Wait-" I tried.

Patrick grabbed my ankles, pulling me away from Jake's cocoon of warmth as he dragged me out of the seat. "Roger that, Peach. Come on, little sis, it'll be fun!"

"Patrick!" I growled as he hoisted me up over his shoulder.

With a slight groan in his voice, he nodded to Quinn. "This a duet or a solo act?"

Chuckling, she joined us, pinching my cheek and dodging my hands as I waved them around, trying to slap her. "Bitch you're lucky I'm coming up with you at all after that!"

Prue's face lit up as she hopped away from Will's side. "Are we going up?"

"Hell yeah, we are!" Quinn signed, throwing an arm around her. "Every girl group has at least three members. The cute one, you darling Prue. The sexy one, me, obviously. And the bitch-"

I scoffed. "Someone's delusional."

"See? Bitch." She flipped me off.

Patrick hurried up the stage and popped me back on my feet. "Give 'em hell, little sis."

"I'll deal with you later," I growled.

*

Jake watched Patrick sling Lena over his shoulder, carrying his sister toward the stage as she moved like a crazed raccoon trying to shake herself free of his grip. After hearing about karaoke night, Jake couldn't help but secretly hope Lena would take the stage. Part of him wanted her to be bad at it. At least then, it'd be easier to remember that she wasn't perfect, but the other somehow knew she wouldn't be. So he sat up in their little booth and watched the siblings argue for a moment before Lena finally seemed to cave.

Arms crossed and a bitter, but still slightly amused, scowl on her face, she stood next to her friends as they flipped through the song booklet. Jake couldn't help himself as he lifted his hands up and signed one of the only two words he remembered from Prue. "Smile."

She shook her head, clearly fighting a grin as she lifted her finger and flipped him off before signing back the only other word he remembered. "Asshole."

He couldn't have contained the laugh even if he'd tried. From beside him, he noticed Peter's smile grow, and for a second, he wanted to ask him why, but then the drug-dealing biker sat down across from him. "Give us the booth Pete."

Peter nodded, sliding out of Lena's seat and walking with his brother to the bar. Dom hadn't given him any trouble since the first time he ran into the man in the alley, but Jake still tensed. With a forced tone of calm and uncaring, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

The biker smirked. "I ain't gonna kick your ass or nothing if that's what you're asking."

"Can't blame me for being on the cautious side after the other night."

"A fair point." He turned his head, looking over at the stage where Lena was now trying to help her friends decide on a song. "I wanted to say thank you."

"What for?"

"Being with her after I…" Shaking his head, Dom sighed. "Trouble always seems to follow her, and I guess lately I've been realizing more and more that I can't always be there to keep her head above water." On that, it seemed Jake and the drug dealer agreed. Lena was a woman that lived just a few steps ahead of the storm, and while he knew little about what she had put behind her that made everyone so damn protective, he knew enough to recognize the danger. "I didn't think you were gonna stick around this long. I took one look at you, a hot-headed, ill-tempered little boy running his mouth to anyone and everyone, and figured you'd run out of steam long before now." With a chuckle and a smile that Jake would describe as almost friendly, he said, "Guess I'm saying I'm glad you're still here to help keep her out of trouble."

It felt weird, having someone - especially someone like Dom - thank him. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been sincerely thanked for anything. It was rare and often tied to a string of favors. This wasn't, though. This was a type of gratitude Jake was unfamiliar with, a type that required practically nothing from him. Dom, a man who commanded respect, thanked him for something that Jake enjoyed. "I'm just being a friend."

The man shook his head. "Lena has plenty of friends, but none of them are like you. Whether you see it or not, you're important to her. Don't waste it pretending it's as simple as friendship."

His gut instinct to deny the truth of Dom's words came bubbling up his throat, but anything he would've said was silenced as the music finally came roaring to life on stage. The girls huddled around the singular microphone, Quinn on the left, Lena on the right, and Prue in the center with her hands raised up in an easy signing position. I Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher, was not the song he'd imagined them choosing, but it fit the trio well.

Lena's voice was light and perfectly melodic as she sang Cher's lines with a smile. Quinn's naturally lower voice suited Sonny's part well enough; the impression she had of the old singer, however, did not. Giggling would occasionally fill the microphone as Prue attempted to vocalize the background harmony while she signed the words. It was chaotic, but not a single person in the crowd complained as they sang along and cheered the trio on.

Ozzy's tall figure stood next to their booth with a smile. "Been a while since I've heard that voice."

"She doesn't sing often?" He asked, wondering why she wouldn't with a voice like that.

"She used to." He chuckled. "Drove everyone damn crazy some mornings. She stopped after Jack passed." The bar owner's face grew solemn as he looked over at Dom. "Seems like our girl's getting some of that spirit back."

The biker glanced at Jake, nodding. "Looks like it."

"I got you, babe."

*

Hearing the crowd's encouraging cheers and their enthusiastic waves and smiles made me feel almost giddy. It had been so long since I’d been on the stage, so long since I’d really let myself enjoy the little things that had once been normal. My eyes lifted to the bar, where just for a moment, I could have sworn I saw my dad’s hulking figure standing at the office door. Prue squealed beside me, latching onto my arm and shaking me. “That was so much fun!”

Quinn wrapped an arm around me with a smug smirk. “Told ya!”

I shook it off, returning their smiles. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. Whatever!”

We made our way back to the table, where Ozzy served a round of drinks to Dom and Jake, who sat across from one another in a way that made me suspicious. Oz turned, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. “My little showstopper!”

“Oz!” I giggled. “It was hardly showstopping.”

“Nonsense, it’s you, so it’s always magnificent.”

Once he let me go, I turned my gaze back to the two men sitting in the booth. “Having a nice conversation?”

Dom looked over at Jake and shrugged a shoulder. “I was perfectly pleasant.”

“Sure.” I nodded to Jake, who looked at Dom with an uncertain expression. “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”

He knew what I meant and carefully slid out of the booth. “Sure.”

Once the noise from the bar faded and the slightly chilled breeze washed over us in the alley, I turned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered, slightly confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dom can be…” The image of him bloody and angry popped into my mind. “Overprotective.”

“I noticed.” Jake opened the gym door, holding it for me as we slid through. “He was just thanking me for helping out the other night.”

My eyes widened slightly as I searched Jake's face, waiting for some kind of punchline. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why does he not do that often?"

"No. Dom's not exactly the most vocal guy." I bumped his shoulder. "He must like you."

Before Jake could answer, Patrick whistled. "Oi! Jerky Jake, grab some gloves and hop in the ring!"

Jake looked at him with confusion. "Aren't we meeting tomorrow morning?"

"We are. It ain't me you're gonna fight tonight."

Peter moved from inside the ring and smiled. "I'm the challenger. If you're down for a quick match."

Looking over at me, the silent question hung between us. Is this okay? I shrugged. "If you think you can take him, hop on in, Jerky Jake."

"If I win, do I get a new name?" He asked, rolling his eyes.

"No," Patrick and I answered.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders before walking off toward the locker room. I hid my smile as I shoved my hands through his sleeves. Looking up at Peter, I sighed. "Are you up for this?"

He made a face, annoyed and slightly worried. "I want to at least try, and Jake's honorable enough not to kill me."

"He's also still kind of shit." Patrick shrugged. "It's the truth!"

Jake joined us again moments later, now dressed in more casual breathable clothes. He hopped into the ring and got to work preparing for a match.

I leaned on the ropes, watching Jake secure his gloves, and listened to Patrick's instructions. "Peter's got the technical advantage while you've got the physical. Don't get cocky."

"And just be prepared," I added. "Win or lose, he's gonna be such a good sport it'll annoy the hell out of you."

Jake smiled. "Noted." Once Patrick left his side to talk to Peter, he stepped closer. "Gonna give me a good luck kiss, princess?"

I leaned forward, my lips hovering over his. "Raincheck?"

He bit his cheek and shook his head. "Now you're just being mean."

"Try not to get your ass kicked too bad. It'd really fuck up your reputation, tough guy."

The match itself was slower than a normal one would be, and while Peter looked in better shape than he had months ago, he was still struggling to keep up. Jake was clearly holding back, taking Peter's hits without even really attempting to dish any out, and my brother knew it. He stopped, lowering his arms with a sigh. "Hit me."

Jake followed through with a weak punch to Peter's shoulder. The movement barely rocked him. Pete shook his head. "Fucking hit me, Jake."

"I'm not gonna hit you, Peter," he replied.

"Then we're gonna be here all night." Peter landed another slow blow. "HIT ME!"

That was when Jake moved faster than he intended, throwing a real punch that hit my brother square in the gut. Patrick and I jumped slightly, hands tight on the ropes as we prepared to jump over and help him. Jake was frozen in place as he looked down at my brother, who lay across the mat, breathing heavily.

Peter's laughter instantly put us all at ease. "Well, shit! You've got some chance at this, after all!" Jake held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Peter shook his hand, his smile never faltering. "Keep that up, and you'll be ready for a real match in no time, little brother."

The smile on Jake's face said it all as he looked at me. "You're right. That is annoying."

"I told you," I replied with a grin.

Patrick tucked under the ropes and slapped him on the shoulder. "Hell yes! Just a bit more practice on that footwork, and you'll be ready for a real fight."

As Jake changed, I slapped Peter's arm. "What the hell was that?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to see if I was strong enough to take a hit."

Patrick nodded along. "Well, you are."

"You're both fucking stupid."

I made my way out into the alley, sitting on the couch and letting Whisky jump in my lap. Jake joined us shortly, awkwardly sitting next to me. "Are you mad?"

"That you punched my idiot brother?" I laughed. "No."

"Thank god," he breathed, reaching over to pet Whisky. 

Usually, he'd have lit a cigarette already, but tonight he just leaned into my side and pet the hairless cat. "No smoke tonight?"

"Nah," he replied. "I don't really feel like I need one."

"Okay," I replied, smiling. "Whisky isn't too big a fan of the smell anyway."

Jake scoffed and shook his head. "Hemingway loves the smell."

*

The brush smoothed along the surface of the canvas, leaving a thin trail of vibrant cerulean in the path I carved. Soft, even strokes helped mingle the dark shade with the lighter ones just enough to shift the overall hue of the waves. Teal paint bled into the water as I gently dipped the tip of the brush in the small glass jar, washing it around for a moment and watching the color move through the water before I pulled it out and applied the wet brush to the canvas, smoothing over the paint to blend it further.

The noise of the city outside was almost unnoticeable as I lost myself in the art and to the feeling of freedom I'd long forgotten it brought me. Art. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination. To the billions of people that populated this planet, art was subjective to the eyes that beheld it. Each piece, each artist, a topic of debate to try and put a physical value or price tag on it to determine its worth. A pointless venture, one that changed more than the phases of the moon.

I remembered the stifling feeling of those rich, snobbish eyes on my paintings. I remembered feeling naked under the expensive and lavish gown my mother and Tony had squeezed me into. Most of all, I remembered looking at the painting everyone admired and wondering in my mind, the only place of solace I'd been allowed, why I felt nothing. No matter how many people complimented my work or technique, the piece in front of me remained empty. A void, I'd realized years later, a place for me to depict how I felt beneath the makeup and clothing. A silent cry for help that no one heard but me.

"So much talent! And for one so young!" An older woman adorned in fine silk and sparkling jewels cried out as she smiled at the looming shadow beside me. "You must be a very proud patron."

His laugh, deep and foreboding, sent chills down my spine. The weight of his arm curling possessively around my shoulders and his hand squeezing my arm made me feel nauseous. "Very proud indeed. Lena is an extraordinary girl."

The woman practically swooned at him, eating up his fake smile and fake words with glee. "Oh, Anthony! How did you ever come to discover such a hidden talent?"

"Hidden?" Tony questioned with a shake of his head. "It was never hidden from me. Nothing is, right, Lena?"

I looked up, daring to meet his gaze as the hand on my arm squeezed tighter. The dead gray of them spoke the words he didn't, his smile never faltering. "Right."

All too pleased with my compliance, he turned away, re-engaging in conversation. From across the room, my mother scowled at me, waiting until the passersby had left before storming over to us and turning me, pulling roughly on my hair to tighten it back into place. "Are you trying to embarrass us?" Before I could answer, she turned me again and shoved against my chest, forcing my back straighter. "Stand up straight, Lena! Chin up, neck extended!"

My eyes stung with repressed tears that the pain my fractured rib caused me in this position. My breaths were shallower, the pressure of my injuries making sure I got less air than I needed. Tony set a hand on my mother's cheek, and she calmed instantly, meeting his eyes with a sparkling gaze and a soft smile. "Relax, Jennifer, everyone's so focused on her painting they'll hardly remember her slouching."

"You're right," she said with a laugh. "You always are, dear Anthony."

I spared a look at the painting that hung beside me, bathed in light to properly showcase the colors. Intricate and ornate and entirely void of life. An empty thing created simply to fill space. A reflection of myself.

The brush held firm on the canvas as I breathed through the mild sensation of old panic and hopelessness. Soon the steadiness of the brush began to waver as tremors overtook my hands. The brush fell to the floor, followed closely by the glass jar of colored water as I moved my arm out to steady myself on the stool.

My front door slammed open, and Ryker shoved himself inside, gun in his hand and eyes scanning the room before quickly finding me. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I breathed out. "Nothing happened. I just…"

He put the gun away and came to my side, carefully pulling me into his arms and hugging me. "What do you need?"

I closed my eyes, trying to slow my breathing and regain control of my still-shaking hands. "Just stay and talk."

"That I can do," Ryker insisted.

"Thank you."

He talked for what felt like hours, telling me every story he could think of, most at Dom's expense. Eventually, my body relaxed, and Ryker eased into moving around my living room, helping me reorganize the massive piles of canvases, both painted and blank. He set a pile of sketchbooks down on my counter and smiled. "I remember when you always had one of these with you. Rain or shine, no matter where you went, you had one of your little books and some pencils."

I leafed through the colored pages, admiring the scribbles of my younger self. "Yeah, it was nice getting to draw stuff I wanted to."

With a wide grin, he turned the sketchbook he'd been looking through toward me, revealing my old sketch of him. "You sure know how to capture my good side."

"Every side is your good side," I reassured him, punching his cheek and snatching the book out of his hand.

It was old, bound in rich red leather, and practically falling apart. One of my oldest sketchbooks and one filled with faces I'd drawn. My dad. Ozzy. Patrick. Peter. Nana and Abdul. Quinn. Prue. Everyone that meant something to me. The pages were stained with smudges, but the pictures I'd drawn still held some life in them. Compared to my most recent one, the one I'd filled with new faces from 22West, it looked like a book you'd find in some dumpster.

I set the book beside my newer one, blue leather still tightly bound beside the old one. Ryker helped himself to some leftovers as my phone rang. The wide smile practically made my cheeks hurt as I looked down at Jake's familiar number. "Hello?"

"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit breathless. "You busy?"

"Nope," I replied, shooing Ryker out of my apartment. "What's up?"

"Bored. Figured you'd have something for me to do."

I cleaned up after Ryker, opting to save the dishes for later. "Did you just finish your training session with Patrick?"

Jake chuckled. "Yeah, he got in a few good hits today."

"Well, how about some lunch at Nana's to help with your aches and pains, tough guy?"

"Sounds fun. See you there."

"See you there."

Nana's was just a few blocks down the road, but by the time I'd changed, I was certain Jake would be waiting for me outside. Instead, I found him sitting at a table, laughing with Nana as she set plates upon plates of food down in front of him. When she turned to get more, she saw me, her eyes lighting up with joy. “There she is! My lovely girl!”

I kissed her cheeks and smiled at her. “Hi, Nana. Trying to make him pop?”

Jake laughed at my joke while Nana swatted my arm. “He’s thin! The boy needs to eat!”

“Well,” I said, sitting down across from him. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am,” he replied with a smile. “Besides, the food here is so good I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist.”

I nodded. “That’s how she gets you.”

“Truly dastardly.”

We ate and talked for an hour or so before we were roped into delivering more food to Prue and Ozzy. Prue and Katie welcomed us with open arms and growling stomachs. Prue taught Jake some more words in sign language. The sight of him so intentionally paying attention and trying to follow along with her teachings without words made my heart swell. Katie nudged me. "Not gonna fuck him, my ass."

I scoffed at her. "I'm not."

"Oh, sure!" She replied with a grin. "I might not be very smart, but even I know what that look means!"

Prue made a loud noise, a cheer, as Jake got the sign right. Waving me over, she pointed to him. "Watch!"

Jake repeated the motions just as she had. "I like Lena Harrow."

My eyes went wide, and my face burned as Jake looked up with a tilt of his head. "What did I say?"

"Nothing!" I replied over Katie. Turning to Prue, I signed, "I'm gonna get you back for that bitch."

"What? I thought it was cute!" She giggled, giving Jake a hug. "He's a quick learner."

"What's she saying?"

"That you're a quick study," I replied. "Come on, you don't need any more compliments."

Just as we turned, Patrick walked through the door, his hair smoothed back and his clothes looking better than usual as he picked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Jake and I paused, all three of us staring at each other, questions waiting on each of our tongues. "Not a word, Lena." My brother warned. "Or I'll make my boyfriend jokes even worse." He added in Irish.

I nodded. "Good to see you, big brother."

"Jake," Patrick greeted as he passed to stand at the front desk, where Katie returned, eyes wide and cheeks pink as she looked at him and the flowers.

"Patrick," Jake replied with a grin.

"Have a nice date!" I replaced, slipping out the door as his loud fuck off echoed through the glass.

The bar was slow when Jake and I arrived, moving through the bouncers and the bikers, who all sniffled the air and mumbled about how hungry they were. Ozzy was behind the bar, looking down at a small stack of papers, signing here and there. "Order for the mighty Oz!"

He looked up, smiling at the sound of my voice. "No wonder why it's taken so long! Nana entrusted my meal to the chatterbox!"

I scoffed. "Don't look at me. It's all Jake's fault!"

Jake glanced at me. "Really?"

Ozzy opened his meal, happily digging in before gesturing between the two of us. "What have you two been up to today… together?"

"Lunch," I replied. "So scandalous, I know."

"Well, it seems like fate then that I just so happened to find a box of old photos."

"No!" Ozzy set the box on the bar between him and Jake, easily holding me back with his arm as I tried to reach around him to get it. "Jake, don't even think about looking!"

He'd already pulled out a stack of photos, grinning ear to ear as he flipped through them. "Holy shit. This just became the best day ever." He held one up, one of me and Quinn at the arcade looking like idiots.

I reached over, trying to snatch it from him. "Gimme!"

"Here, look at these ones," Ozzy said, handing him another stack.

"Ozzy!"

The two of them laughed at my expense for twenty minutes. Ozzy even promised to look for the old home videos my dad had recorded for Jake to see before the subject finally changed. The topic, however, didn't exactly spare me any attention. "Did all your paintings make it to your place alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, they're all still in one piece. Though you were right, I might have too many."

"Paintings?" Jake asked.

"You haven't seen them?" Ozzy asked as I smacked my head on the bar. "Lena is quite the artist!"

"This has been absolute torture," I whined, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later, big guy."

Outside, Jake looked at me again, eyebrows raised. "Paintings?" He repeated.

I groaned. "Seriously? Were the pictures not enough for you?"

"Oh, come on, you did say you'd show me last time we hung out at Nana's."

"Fine, I will, but that means you'll have to return the favor with your photography."

"Deal."

Back at my apartment, Jake sifted through my old canvases and ate up all the stories I’d share with him about each one, eyes bright and focused solely on me. It was addictive and somewhat intimate in ways I didn’t understand. "You have a lot more than I was expecting."

"Yeah," I scratched the back of my neck. "I had a lot of time after moving in with my dad. It was easier to express how I felt with paint. Words… They're harder to put together."

Lifting an old piece of Cape Cod, gloomy and swimming in dark colors and muted tones, he nodded. "I think I understand. I'm not exactly good with words either."

I arched a brow. "No? And here I thought you were charming."

"Flirting doesn't count," he replied with a wink. "We both know I'm good at that."

"Uh-huh."

He moved to my sketchbooks, flipping through the pages of my youth, appreciating each one. He stopped on my dads sketch, smiling at the picture. "You look a lot like him."

The compliment was so genuine and innocent that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I tucked my hair behind my ear and shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious about the whole thing. "Really? Everyone always said I looked like my mom."

Jake made a face of disgust as he shook his head. "You don't look anything like her. She always looks so… Cold and judgmental, while you," he paused, looking up at me. "You look warm… Approachable like your dad looked."

"Thanks," I whispered.

"What's in this one?" He asked, setting down the older book in favor of the new one, the one he absolutely could not see.

"That one isn't done yet," I replied hastily while also trying to not draw too much attention to it. Still, he started turning the pages. "Wait!"

His mouth curved into a smile at the sight of the sketch of the restaurant. It only kept growing as he continued, flipping through the sketches of our coworkers until he stopped at his. Looking up, those eyes gleamed, prideful and smug. "You drew me?"

I tried snatching it out of his hands, but he quickly moved the book out of the way. "I drew everyone."

"What's this writing at the bottom?"

"Jake!" I jumped for the book again.

"Eyes so blue I drown,

In an ocean vast and deep,

Storm clouds gather,

And the sky cries out.

A cry for death,

A cry for life,

A cry for peace,

Eyes so blue he drowns."

After reading my poor poem, the smile faded slightly, his eyes scanning the words a second time. Then a third. After the fourth readthrough, he finally asked, "You wrote this about me?"

I shrugged, finally catching the edge of the book. He held firm as I tried to pull it from his hands. "Kind of. I'd drawn everyone else but couldn't get your eyes right. You probably thought I was staring at you to be flirty, but a lot of the time, I was trying to get a good look at your eyes. And once I finished them…" This sounds so dumb, I thought. "The words just kind of came to me, and I wrote them down. It's stupid, I know."

"It's actually pretty good." He smiled again, softer than before. Real.

"Oh?" I tried to hide my blush. "Never would have taken you for a man that likes shitty poetry."

"Maybe I just like your shitty poetry."

My face burned under his intensely sincere gaze as I pulled on the book harder. Jake leaned forward, towering over me with a satisfied grin. "Let go."

After a second chuckling at me, he let me take the book, closing it and setting it on the counter. "Are you gonna teach me something about painting now?"

"Do you want me to?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm not much of a teacher," I answered.

Jake shrugged off his jacket. "Come on, princess, teach me something."

I relented too quickly, gathering my paints and clean water and setting up a new canvas on my easel. Once everything was ready, I handed Jake my brushes. "Hold these. I have to change."

Slipping into my bedroom, I searched for my usual painting clothes, a baggy T-shirt and shorts, but when those were found at the bottom of my hamper, I had to improvise. The tank top was a size too small, and the shorts were a pair of Patrick's I'd accidentally grabbed, but it'd have to do. Jake was still waiting when I returned. His eyes widened at the sight of my outfit. "Not a word," I warned.

He held a laugh. "You look good."

Grabbing my brushes, I organized them around my station and sighed, settling in the high stool. "Well, where do you want to start?"

"You're the teacher," he retorted, standing close beside me, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you just start, and I'll try to keep up."

"Alright," I picked a large brush dipping it in the water for a minute before wetting the canvas. "We'll start with technique. This is called wet on wet. It's where you wet the canvas before applying paint. It's best for watercolors and bleeding colors together."

He nodded, seemingly paying attention, but I caught a glimpse of that gaze. Dark and hungry and full of mischief. "Wet on wet sounds fun."

I rolled my eyes and squeezed a few drops of paint onto my tray. "Now I'm gonna cover the whole canvas in this yellow-orange color. We can layer more color on top to help us get the perfect  sunset look." Focusing on the canvas, I ignored the clamoring noises off to the side of me until the easel bumped and Jake's hands set on my thighs. Looking down at him, now kneeling in front of my knees, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"

His fingers caught the hem of my shorts, the cigarette hanging from in between his lips, tugging them down impatiently. "Lift." With a sigh, I followed his request, lifting my hips to help him get my pants and underwear off.

"I thought you wanted an art lesson."

Jake smirked, blowing the smoke up toward me before putting it back between his lips, freeing his hands to carefully pull my legs apart. "I do. Just keep going."

"Fine," I huffed, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks whenever I let myself recognize that he had my entire pussy in his face. The intense hammering of my heart and the pool of pleasure building in my gut as he pulled me forward and gripped my hips in his hands was thrilling and too distracting for me to keep going.

I could feel him breathe smoke out across my skin as he chuckled, tapping my thigh with his fingers. "Is the lesson over?"

"No!" I yipped, shaking myself out of the trance he'd put me in. I refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. "Wet on wet," I continued trying to recall where exactly I'd left off.

"Wet indeed," he teased, dragging his fingers through my folds.

My face, my whole damn body, was on fire. I bit my cheek and kept my eyes trained on the yellow and orange hues in front of me, mixing some red onto the brush and lifting it to stroke across the canvas, making sure to do it as sloppily as I could to ensure Jake got splashed with some of the drops. If it'd bothered him he didn't say. He just continued his lazy motions for a moment and smoked his cigarette. If I hadn't been so concentrated on trying not to moan, I would have complimented his ability to multitask.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, "Once you mix enough red in around the edges, creating a nice contrast to the yellow, you'll wet the brush again and-" His fingers slid over my clit, making my jolt as the instant pleasurable sensation hit me with a sharp gasp. Jake's blue eyes drank in every bit of it. I breathed out and straightened up again. "And blend out the harsh edges."

"Edges…" I remembered his half-threat, half-promise from Ari's hotel room.  Fuck. He held the cigarette up with a wicked grin. "Hold that for me, princess. I'm gonna need both my hands."

"Jake-" My fingers accepted the cigarette, and the desperate plea for mercy died on my tongue as he gave me a smug look. He'd be insufferable if I admitted defeat after all the shit-talking and all the riling up I'd been doing since that night. So I closed my mouth and gripped my paintings tight. "Don't bump my easel while you're down there."

His smirk widened, and his thumb rolled over my clit again. "Yes, ma'am."

God damn him! I lifted my head up, sucking in a deep breath as his fingers worked my clit in earnest now. Trying to paint with a very attractive bartender between my thighs was not at all what I imagined would happen today. Not that I could really complain. I managed to keep myself fairly composed, only slipping up a few times with heather breaths and some choice curves, but all my resilience just made Jake want it more.

I gave up trying to talk him through my actions when his fingers slid inside me, stealing my breath in seconds and forcing me to bite down on my lower lip to keep from giving into the pent-up moan I held in my throat. His pace was slow and languid, focused on building up the pleasure and pressure rather than trying to bring me to orgasm. It felt good, and he knew it. When my chest started heaving a little harder, he lifted his head up slightly, nodding to the cigarette that faded in between my fingers. "Give me a drag?"

Placing the cigarette between his lips, I let him take a long drag of it before pulling it away to place it in between my own lips. Maybe that'd help calm my nerves. Jake blew the smoke across my skin again, making it break out in goosebumps. His teeth scraped against my inner thigh, and in the blink of an eye, his mouth was on me. "Ah!" I breathed out a startled moan, my legs closing on instinct.

Jake's fingers left me as his large hands wrapped around my thighs, keeping them pried open. The cigarette fell from between my fingers into my paint water, fizzling for a moment as it snuffed out. My eyes closed tightly, the paintbrush pressing hard into the canvas creating long drip lines through the sunset hues. The warmth of Jake's tongue licking and sucking at my core made my legs shake, and my chest burn with the effort to keep my noises inside. He swirled his tongue around my already pulsing clit, and my composure snapped.

The brush clattered to the ground, just narrowly missing his shoulder as my hands slid into his silky hair. He hummed, the vibrations only making my body want more. "Oh my god! Jake," I breathed, head falling back.

He answered my breathless whisper of his name with his teeth, scraping them against my sensitive bud, trying to coax another moan from me. I could practically hear him encouraging me, the sensual whisper of his voice something my mind was well familiar with. Louder. More. Give me more. He pulled me closer again, startling me into leaning back, my hand reaching back to steady myself against the counter.

Jake's hands moved, one sliding up my leg to support my lower back while the other slid up my stomach. He cupped my breast, deft fingers once again working my sensitive nipple through the course material of my shirt. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter, making me see white for a minute as my hands pulled at his hair. "Fuck!" The pleasure building inside me was so close to exploding. "Jake!"

I could feel the corners of his lips lift, smug even now, as his tongue quickened the pace. His blunt nails dug into my back, urging me to let go, to give him the thing he'd been slowly forcing to build inside. "I'm… Shit…" My body was practically shaking now as I dared to look down and meet his eyes. The blue was gone, replaced by black pools of lustful desire. "I'm close."

A single flaming star burned in those dark eyes, a star that seemed to accept my words as some kind of challenge. And he was determined to win. His hand squeezed my breast one last time before disappearing beneath his head, sliding inside me with ease, pumping quickly to match the urgent pace of his tongue as it honed in on my abused clit. My eyes fluttered shut, ragged moans filling my apartment as I begged him, pleading with him to keep going. I could feel how every sound I made, every word I said, affected him.

I came on his fingers and tongue with a cry of his name and a sharp tug on the strands of hair still worn between my fingers. "Jake!"

He licked up every drop of my release before bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them. Once he'd finished he settled back on his feet, grabbing my thighs and squeezing them for a second before he reached over and grabbed my underwear. Smiling, he offered them up. "I believe these are yours."

Ignoring the knowledge that my face was likely redder than the painting in front of us, I snatched them out of his hand. "You don't have to be so smug, you know."

Standing, he shrugged. "No, but it's more fun that way." I tried to stand, nearly tripping as my legs wobbled unsteadily. His smugness only grew as he asked, "Need a hand, princess?"

"No!" I managed to get my underwear back on without falling face-first into the mess of paint that I'd unknowingly made in my orgasmic haze of hands and movement.

Jake whistled, looking at the mess, while I couldn't look anywhere but at him. His hair was standing up, huge chunks of paint staining the dark strands, much brighter shades of red and orange. He turned toward me, looking like he was about to say something snarky, but before he could - and before I could stop myself - I'd taken hold of his shirt and pulled myself up to kiss him.

His lips were stiff at first, surprised by my sudden action, but after a moment had passed, they softened. Jake's hand lifted to cup the back of my head as his lips moved against mine. The light taste of myself lingered on him as my tongue darted out to taste his lips. As he opened his mouth, determined to devour me further, I pulled back.

"I thought we agreed, no kissing," he questioned breathlessly.

"We did..." I scrambled to come up with an excuse better than sorry you just looked so pretty standing in my apartment looking around like an idiot after eating me out. "It just seemed like the best way to thank you for all that hard work." 

Jake fought a smile, dipping his head down to press his lips against mine again. "That one was cause I wanted to."

"Ass."

He caught a glimpse of my handiwork in the mirror and almost snorted laughing. "I think you got more paint on me than you did the canvas!"

I poked at the now-dry paint speckling the sides of his face and stuck in his hair. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna need help getting that out." Tugging him toward my room, "Come on."

Just like with every new space, Jake drank in the sight of my bedroom, curious but respectful. He admired the bed full of pillows and an old pile of half-folded laundry, but the antique wardrobe Quinn thrifted for me held his gaze longer. I watched him from the bathroom doorway, quietly appreciating how naturally he fit into a space I shared with so few. His long fingers ran over the old wood, eyes dazzled by the craftsmanship before him. "Does it live up to your expectations?"

Jake turned his head, eyes dragging down my body. I ducked my head, suddenly too aware of the fact I was only in my old underwear and a slightly too-small tank top covered in dried paint. "Kind of," he said. "I guess I always imagined it'd look like your old room from The Cape. This is more you, though."

"A compliment, I hope," I replied, turning to get my counter cleaned up.

"The highest."

I let the warm water run between my fingers for a minute before turning to look at him. "Shirt off."

Without hesitation, he began tugging the thin white material off. "Thought you'd never ask."

The sight of his chest made me pause, watching every flex and movement with wonder. When his shirt was over his head, I looked away, pulling a stool over to the sink. I set a towel over the edge, acting as a neck pillow for him, and patted the top. "Hop up."

Jake sat down and leaned back, blue eyes shining beneath my bathroom lights as I reached over him and fiddled with the temperature for a moment before letting it fill my palm so I could wet his head.

"It's not too hot, is it?" I asked, looking down at him as I ran my fingers through his damp hair, testing.

Jake looked breathless for a moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as his dark eyes scanned my face before meeting my gaze. "It's fine." The words sounded harsh, but the look on his face told me he hadn't intended for it to be that way. "It feels good."

I smiled, gently massaging his scalp. "I used to do this a lot with Peter and Patrick. They'd always find a way to get gum or something sticky in it. They even got lice once! Patrick swears it was Peter's fault, but of course, Peter claims the opposite."

"Knowing your brothers, it was probably a collective effort."

The laugh that echoed off my bathroom walls was too loud and embarrassing, but Jake seemed to like it. "Probably. Sorry for getting your hair all fucked up."

He rolled his eyes before closing them. "A bit of paint getting clumped in my hair is hardly fucking it up. Should show you the pictures from when Simone used to cut my hair. I looked like one of The Beatles one year."

"Oh my god, please!"

Jake laughed, looking up at me with those eyes. "Raincheck?"

"I'll hold you to it," I warned, returning my focus to working the paint out of his hair. As the comfortable silence pulled me into an odd sense of security, my eyes drifted once again down his bare chest.

Training with Patrick had resulted in Jake's arms growing lean with well-defined muscle. I could tell by the stiffness of his abdomen that my brother wasn't skipping other workouts in favor of his arms. "Like what you see?"

My eyes quickly looked anywhere but him, a bashful smile tugging at my lips as I turned, reaching for some shampoo. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Suuurreee," he drew out with a grin. "Feel free to stare as long as you like. I don't mind."

"Shut up," I mumbled, lathering the shampoo in my hands before massaging it into his hair.

His eyes shut, and his whole body relaxed with a lovely sound. "You're gonna put me to sleep."

"Good," I giggled. "Then I won't have to listen to you talk."

"Want to ogle my muscles in peace, do you?" He teased.

"Maybe." I looked back down at the tattoos that stained his pale skin, finally getting a chance to admire them closer. "I'm more interested in the tattoos, though."

Jake smiled wider, lifting his head slightly to look down at them. "Should have guessed. All ladies love the tattoos."

"Would you tell me about them?"

"Maybe." I gave him a look, and he instantly crumbled. "I will if you tell me about yours."

"All of mine or just the ones you know about?"

His brow rose, head tilting to the side and bonking against my sink. "There's more?"

With a smug smirk, I shrugged. "Maybe."

An amused scoff bubbled from his throat, and he asked, "Am I gonna have to guess?"

"I'll show you one if you want," I replied. "After you tell me about your tattoos."

“Ask away, princess. I’m an open book.”

My eyes took in the artwork that etched his skin, carefully considering my choices before I hummed. "What about this one?" I asked, removing one of my hands from his hair to poke the flowers on his upper arm.

Jake chuckled. "Drunk bet with an old buddy of mine. I lost."

"And the band?"

"Another impulsive decision made while half hammered."

I moved my other hand, leaning over him to touch the anchor on his other arm. "What about this one?"

His smile faded, and the light left his eyes. "I got that one for my mom. Or in spite of her, maybe… I don't…" He sighed. "She loved The Cape. Loved the ocean and ships. We had so many of the dumb things around the house. It's one of the only things I remember about it before moving in with Simone's family."

Nodding, I stoked the soft skin. "It's good to remember little things like that. Little things that made you happy once." My finger dragged down his arm, smoothing over the mermaid. "Now I get to ask you: why a mermaid?"

He shrugged, eyes still holding that far-off look. "I've kind of always liked them. Used to think it was a Cape thing. When I was a kid, Simone made up some story about my mom being a mermaid that had to return to the sea. It was… Comforting, I guess, at the time. After a while, it started getting harder and harder to remember what she looked like. Whenever I'd think of my mom Simone's face was all I could see."

I shoved down my disgust for Simone and what I knew she'd done with her position as Jake's maternal figure. "That's sad, but it makes some sense. You were young. Simone stepped up and raised you, so, of course, you'd picture her when thinking of a mom."

"Yeah," he replied. "I guess. Anyway, I got the mermaid because of that story she'd told me. She'll never admit this, but when she got back from France… After her divorce, she got a matching one."

On instinct, my nose scrunched at the nauseous feeling that came with his all-too-innocent reveal. "I'll be honest, I can't really picture Simone with a tattoo."

"She hates them," Jake answered, laughing. A look, fond, and if I'd been as naive as I used to be, something I would have thought was full of love. "But she got it for me. Something to show me that she'd never abandon me again."

Something to placate your rightful anger at her for leaving you in the first place. I bit my tongue. "What about this one?" I thumbed the words over his ribcage. "Together/Or?"

Jake's momentary joy dwindled slightly as he ground his teeth together. I was about to tell him he didn't need to share it with me, but then he spoke, "I got that one while Simone was in France with her asshole husband. Before she left, she said she and I were destined to be together, no matter how much space separated us. Together or separate. It made more sense in my head."

This time it was my turn to clench my jaw as I tried to think of something nice to say. "It looks good. It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

"Yeah," he said softly, eyes refocusing on me as I finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair and turned to grab a towel. Once I'd dried his hair a bit, examining it closely to make sure I got all the paint out, Jake smiled. "My turn."

Tossing the towel in the hamper, I held out my arms. "Ask away. I’m an open book."

Jake took a step forward, reaching out to push my hair away from my shoulder to run his fingers down my spine. "Might as well start with this one."

"The snake." I smirked up at him. "Your favorite."

"Can't decide which one's my favorite until I know about all of them."

I hummed in response before answering the question his fingers asked. "I got it after I'd been clean for a year. A symbol of, well, shedding my old life… and all the pain that came with it."

He understood, on some deep level, Jake knew exactly why something as simple as a tattoo would help purge the darkest of things clinging to the soul. His fingers moved again, sliding down my arm to the tiger. "And this one?"

"My first tattoo. I got it when I came to live with my dad. He used to say I was like a tiger. I had the rage and the claws meant for killing, but inside I was just a big cat. It was also the first time Quinn and I met Prue. We were sixteen."

"Quinn get one?" He asked.

I bit my lip to contain my laugh. "She got a peach on her ass with juicy inked in the leaf."

He laughed. "That sounds like her." The feel of his fingers sliding along my hip, tracing the intricate lines of the mermaid tail, felt too soft, too good. "I already know the story behind this one. With your mom and all."

"Yeah," I answered. "It's still pretty, though."

"It's very pretty," he reassured me, body sliding closer to mine as he bent slightly to tap my knee. "And this one. You said it was a reminder… That there are worse things than death."

I gulped, my jaw clenching and my body feeling tight as I nodded. "You remember François?"

Jake's face fell slightly, most likely remembering the hour he spent holding me as I sobbed in the stairwell. "Yeah."

"It's for him. Kind of. It's a reminder that things you love can get taken away from you if you're not careful." I cleared my throat, desperately trying to keep from crying again. "He lost the things he loved because of me, and so… When I got the chance, I got the tattoo. It helped me cope with it all, I think. At least a little."

There was a moment of silence before Jake spoke again. "It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."

I laughed softly at the use of my own words against me. "Touche."

"Now, what are the others?"

"I have cherries on my ass." I held up my finger and stopped him in his tracks. "Quinn made me get them!"

He nodded, brows raised, and a poorly concealed smirk plastered on his face. "Of course she did. Does it say juicy, too, or?"

Damn it. I looked away, blushing slightly as I committed to telling him the truth. I owed him that much after his honesty with me. "It says ‘bite me’ in the stems."

"Oh, I've gotta see that!" He replied, laughing.

"Ah! I have two more!"

Leaning back slightly, he gestured for me to continue. "Let's hear it. I wanna make an informed decision."

"Well, there's one on my chest, above the heart. Canis Major. It's a constellation. My dad's favorite one. Each star represents someone I care about. Sirius, the heart of it, is my dad. Muliphein, the head, is Peter. Mirzam, the front foot, is Ozzy. Furud, the back foot, is Nana and Abdul. Wezen, the ass, is Patrick. The tail, Aldura, is Quinn and Prue. And there's this tiny cluster of stars in the chest area, by the shoulder, called M41. That's Dom and his lot."

"Do I get a star?" He asked only half teasing

I smiled wider. "You can share the ass with Patrick."

His eyes showed the joy his face didn't as he nodded along. "Last one."

"On the ribs," I said. "It's a big koi fish. A simple ode to an old friend in Japan. Now, let’s get this over with. Which one do you want to see?”

Jake considered his choices for a moment before taking a slight step forward and placing his hands on my hips. “Show me the fish.”

“The fish?”

“Yep.”

“And here I thought you’d never pass up a chance to see my ass.”

He shrugged, a gleam in his eyes highlighting the blue. “Oh, I fully intend on seeing it eventually, but I figured I should save the best for last.”

I tugged my shirt up just enough to expose the tattoo that lined my ribs. “Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, tough guy.”

His attention quickly turned to the simple linework. His hands squeezed my hips for a second before one moved, fingers sliding along the dark ink, curving with my rib in a feather-light touch that made my body tingle. I flinched with a giggle, meeting his questioning gaze with a look. “Tickles.”

“Ah,” he replied with a smirk that was all too familiar.

I lifted my finger to his face, grabbing his hand quickly. “Don’t even think about it.”

Jake scoffed playfully. “I would never.”

My eyes flickered down to his lips, admiring the soft curve of them for a moment, wanting to kiss him again, before I laughed it off, reaching off to the side to hand him his shirt. “Here. It’s probably got a few paint stains, sorry.”

He took it from me, examining it for a quick moment before shrugging as he threw it over his head. “I think it’s an improvement.”

We headed back out to my living room, standing in front of the painting that had suffered from Jake’s overactive tongue. “Not my best work.”

“I think it’s perfect.” He smiled at me. “Showcases both our talents.”

I rolled my eyes at him, moving to pick up the trays and cups of water left out. “You can have it if you want.”

Humming, he seemed to consider my offer. "So, who taught you to paint anyway?" He asked, suddenly, finally looking away from our masterpiece.

“Softly now,” Rada said, gently pulling my brush back slightly. “We want the colors to blend. It’s not a fight, Lyubov'.”

I laughed, following her instructions to help the colors meld together. “Who do you think would win in a fight, blue or red?”

Rada wiped a small dot of paint off her uniform and polished the glasses beside me, smiling at my ridiculous question. Still, she looked around and leaned in close as if it was some sort of master secret. “Purple.”

The two of us laughed louder as she pressed a kiss to my head. “Purple is a nice color.”

“It’s my favorite color,” she admitted. “But don’t tell the others.”

“I won’t,” I answered.

"A cleaning lady," I suddenly replied without fully intending to. "She was an immigrant from Russia, where she was an art teacher."

Jake smiled at my openness. "Did she teach you Russian, too?"

Nodding, I laughed to myself. "Yeah. It took a while, but she made learning it fun." I laughed more, tears starting to build in my eyes. "She used to put random Post-it notes all over the penthouse, labeling random objects. I ran around like a dog to find them all and show her I knew the right words."

"You lived in a penthouse?" He asked, and I froze. "Was that when you and your mom traveled?"

"No." Shaking my head, I stood, shakily gathering up the rest of my things and taking them to the sink where my dishes from earlier still sat. I counted my breaths in my head and flexed my fingers to keep the numbness and the memories away.

I was thankful that Jake was who he was because even though I knew he had a list of questions a mile long, he said nothing. He stood up and moved beside me, quietly helping me wash the dishes and clean out the painting supplies and stack them on my drying rack. After the task in front of us was done, he smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear with a still-damp finger, making me squirm. "Thanks for the painting lesson, princess."

"It was hardly a lesson," I replied. "I bet you can't tell me a single thing I said."

"I remember the term 'wet on wet'."

"Do you remember what it means?"

"No," he admitted with a sly grin. "But regardless of how much information stuck in this thick head of mine, I enjoyed hearing you talk about it."

I could feel the heat rising to my face as I bashfully shrugged. "Thanks for listening. It…" Pausing, I breathed out a soft sigh and smiled up at him. "It means a lot."

Jake nodded, a look of understanding filling his face with a youthful glow. "I know."

"Next time, it's your turn."

"What?" His eyes widened slightly, his brow arching, the dirty implication of my words clearly on his mind.

I rolled my eyes, smiling wider. "To teach me about photography. I believe the exact phrase you used at Nana's was, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?" Gesturing to the paintings that lay scattered around my living room, I continued, "I showed you mine."

With an understanding nod, he replied, "Well, it's only fair."

The longer I stared at him, standing in my apartment, looking at me like I was the real piece of art, my body longed for that dream to come to life. I wanted Jake, not just to know what sleeping with him would be like, but the fun and soft moments that could follow as well. “Do you-”

His phone cut off my train of thought, and the look in his eyes, slightly stressed, slightly relieved, told me in seconds who it was. He smiled at me, a silent apology for the interruption. “Hey, Simone. No, I’m not home yet.” There was a long pause as she spoke to him over the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Duty calls?”

“Sorry, she needs some help with something.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I… had fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

“See you at work?” I asked, tapping his foot with mine.

Jake nodded, a soft smile reassuring me that whatever Simone had called him for wasn’t going to cause him any stress. “Yeah. Goodnight, Lena.”

 I lifted myself up onto the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Jake.”

*

From across the street he watched the man clad in leather and a simple t-shirt exit the apartment. The biker by the door smiled at him, shaking his hand and offering him some small conversation before he walked away down the street. He could just barely make out her shaded figure through the curtains as she moved through her atrocious apartment to turn off the light. “Should we follow him?”

Tony glanced away from the windows, following the man down the street with his eyes as he smoked his cigar. He said nothing, just gestured simply with his hand knowing the man beside him would understand his wishes.

“We should go,” Jules replied. “Before the other ones come down this street again.”

“Yes, we should. Wouldn’t want to rouse the old junkyard dog just yet.” He put the rest of his cigar out with his foot and smiled at the building. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”

Once they’d walked a block or so away Tony unlocked his car, waiting with an annoyed look as one of his smaller paid men ran up to him, panting. “We found him, Sir.”

A cold smile spread on his lips. “Excellent.”

[pennycat83]

I'm sorry I absolutely fucked him up in the lab guys

I just really wanna talk about my take on Bob2.0 'cause I wove him too much.

(This only makes sense in my series canon sadly so TLDR: cartoon characters can die in various ways and go to a purgatory but sometimes other forms of media sneak in unknowingly)

Since the third book ended with him floating off into space this is a variant in which he, somehow, died. He can't remember how and he's far away from both HEAVEN-1 and all the other Bobs. The only ones he can interact with are the ones that have canonically died and the first generation (who also can't remember how they died), all of which are hard wired to his IBM 5150 computer monitor he's stuck in.

They can be sent out into space by hijacking other spaceships but it's too risky to do (he's fully skint too).

🪐✨꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦🪐✨

Additional Notes and headcannons

⚙️ He's quite bitter he lost Charlie since he's now shorter than before (mainly 'cause the android model he stole was prebuilt and he doesn't know how to readjust it). He also has to recharge as well and can't do much either (he can access the IBM computer system his head belongs to but then he just turns into a regular ass computer, it does let him adjust his system which he does every night with the ROAMERS controlling stuff outside).

⚙️Since most of the other Bobs are still in slight control of his system he tends to flip between personalities and even memories (rarely shows up but sometimes he casually drops stuff that never happened to him).

⚙️ The other Bobs can intervene if they're put in the IBM system (some are more hardwired in than others but some can be transferred to floppy disks, much like Bob-1 they all lost their ships except for Milo).

⚙️LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME THIS MAN DOESN'T HAVE AUTISM! Gestures with his hands when he talks, prefers solitude and can do it for long periods of time, hyperfixates on random subjects and sci-fi, struggles with interacting with others outside of his small group of friends and family, an inability to comfort others. I can SMELL it on him man!

⚙️ This man has a roadtrip soundtrack, no one can change it and anyone who does gets put in the ship storage hull (it's mostly a mix-trail of 80's/90's stuff, ELO, Thomas Dolby and Talking Heads).

⚙️ He's essentially completely denounced any type of romance between him since he's too out there for most others (flirting has been observed to cause him to do a mental tailspin).

⚙️ Feral as fuck. Not only does he forget he's still human to a degree at times but he tends to go into weird manic over analysis moments (also tends to devolve into a mad scientist without realising).

⚙️ Suffers with slight touch starveness due to him being unable to properly touch anyone intimately for a long time* (this is most evident with casual touch so it's unsure if he could handle anything further).

⚙️ Is "slightly" hyperfixated with both Spore and 90's alien stuff (I'm going HARD on my headcannoning here. I'm not against him being a classic sci fi nerd but I like the idea he's more into a specific sub genre rather than just being a generic nerd**).

⚙️ Adding a bit more to it I also like to think he's into the LEGO Space sets as well. Alongside Guardians of the Galaxy (man probably had enough time to binge it).

⚙️Most of his other attributes and habits from before still stand. He still likes to talk shit about religion and often gets a bit arrogant when talking about his old job and achievements. I did nuke a bit of his overt geniuses from the book since I (for some reason) think he gets slight moments where he messes up hard by over assuming stuff.

⚙️Every single Bob treats Homer like the lil brother once they found out he's still kicking. The second he comes in at a bad time the others just try 'n shoo him out so he won't see anything too graphic.

⚙️ I'll probably go into this a more later but he has like the weirdestly wholesome dynamic with P.C, like they're just two mad scientist weirdos talking about random stuff and being feral.

*I know this one sounds dumb but like... I don't think he ever tried hitting on any Deltans at any point for obvious reasons, and his only friend was Archimedes. So obviously the man's gotta be a bit on the touch starved side.

**yes I know he's fan girly over Von Neumann Probes I mean like media, he's only really into conventional sci fi stuff so I like to think his other ones are more tied to space in different ways.

[specialinterestshows]

Let your pleasure engulf you in this latest chapter of my Daddy!Damian Priest and Mommy!Rhea Ripley x transmasc!reader fic, Que Llueva.

Warnings for this section: Mommy/Daddy kink, praise, dirty talk, pain (chronic injury), vibrator, anal, overstimulation, biting, teasing, spit/spitting, nipple play

-

Que Llueva (Part 3 of 4): Come Again (Another Day)

“That’s Mommy’s good boy,” Rhea moved her lips away from yours to whisper the praise in your ear as you let your orgasm gradually replace pain with a small taste of heaven.

“Love that sound,” Damian growled in response to your moan being released into the open air.

“Let’s see if we can make it even better,” your girlfriend suggested before pressing the cool metal of the bullet vibrator against your dick.

The sharp ache in your leg was already creeping up again and the thunder was getting closer in the now-torrential downpour - but neither fact seemed to matter anymore when the vibrator sprung to life.

Still sensitive from having just come, you tried to move away from the intense sensation. Damian’s hold on you - fingers still sliding in and out of your ass slowly - made sure you didn’t get very far.

Your moans become frantic before Rhea pulls you in for another kiss, reducing them to a buzz on her lips as your body trembles. The pleasure inside you builds so quickly, you can no longer control your movements and grip the sheets, the pillow, Rhea’s shirt - anything within reach.

“Relájate, mi amor,” Damian reminded you softly, kissing your back.

You did your best, letting your tense muscles relax slightly - which drove you directly into your next orgasm.

Damian’s fingers, the vibrator Rhea pressed against you, both of their lips - it all sent you deeper into your own pleasure as you let out a string of soft whimpers and moans. Your girlfriend bit your lip at the sounds that escaped between the passionate kisses.

“Muy bien, lindo,” Damian praised you, thrusting once more before sliding his fingers out of your ass, “Feels like you’re ready for Daddy’s dick now.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimpered, drifting further into sub space at the thought of your boyfriend deep inside of you.

“There you are,” Rhea said, tapping your aching dick with the vibrator, “Mommy and Daddy’s sweet little lover boy. You’re so cute when you make those noises.”

The praise made a shiver run through you, distracting you from fully registering the familiar sound of a cap popping closed again. Damian teased his head between your cheeks, pressing them together. It wasn’t until then that you realized you had stopped coming at some point, ecstasy overwhelming you once more.

“‘M gonna-!” you cry out, coming hard before you can complete your announcement.

Lost in your bliss, you don’t realize just how much you had been drooling. Your girlfriend made sure to bring it to your attention, cupping your face and dipping her thumb in the small pool of saliva on your pillow before running it across your lips. Pressing a kiss to the pad of her thumb once her hand stopped moving, you smile as you’re given a reprieve from the vibrator.

“Biiiig stretch,” Rhea cooed as she set it aside and started playing with your nipples again.

The statement confused you in your haze, until Damian slid inside you with one smooth motion.

“OhgodDaddy!” you cried out, suddenly taking in more than half his full length.

“Too much?” he asked, the rhythm of his warm breath on your back shifting as he paused.

“Mmm, more please,” you whimpered, making him chuckle. There had been a slight ache at first, but nothing to rival how your leg felt earlier - and you were feeling wonderfully vulnerable in this position.

“You got it,” Damian’s low voice grunted as he pushed the rest of the way in.

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah?” Rhea asks when you let out an unrestrained moan - then, after you nod, “Who do you love?”

“I love- my Mommy- and Daddy!” you cry out, pausing slightly every time your boyfriend thrusted all the way in. Something about the way the momentum made his balls run into you with a wet slap over and over made thinking nearly impossible as it happened.

“Such a good little boytoy,” your girlfriend praised, pressing her fingers against your dick, “Oh you’re getting close, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes! Mommy!” the pitch of your voice rising slightly as Damian gradually started thrusting faster, pushing you against her fingertips.

“Let me help you,” Rhea said, pulling her hand away briefly to spit on her fingers.

The moment they made contact with your tip again, she applied pressure while moving her hand side-to-side rapidly. You grabbed her muscular, tattooed arm instinctively as the friction sent you over the edge.

Try as you might to hold on, you’re unable to still her hand as the powerful orgasm rips through you. The flash of lightening outside, shortly accompanied by the loud crack of thunder wasn’t even on your radar as you convulsed and shouted your pleasure. The world could have been crumbling around the three of you and you wouldn’t have noticed.

This was exactly what you needed.

[end part three of four]

Part 4: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/742278474106109952/que-llueva-part-4-of-4-the-rain-has-gone

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Tag List (thank you!)

@babybatlover , @domripley , @falloutboy-lover

[malhare-archive]

So lemme get this straight, BASICALLY: God created a dude who was the Best TM / his favorite / etc & but HE KNEW (☆) he was gonna "cause problems" eventually then complained & didn't do shit & asked the Now Better Brother to kick them? Now all the problems are blamed to Him & the Girl & dude who just wanted an apple from the Snake that "Knew better than to Not Complain Ever & My dad is the causer of problems"?

I wonder if predestination is involved coz if it was then.. I dunno [stares blanky into space] a lot to unpack lol

Also why did He "create" Jesus... and why did he indirectly killed him eventually- why does he create kids to just have as tools to use on us on his puppet game of life? Is it really worth it? Conditional fake love for another one? What's his deal?

Apologies if I said sth offensive I'm sayin' this to you cause [vaguely gestures]. So you are allowed to call me out 👍🏼This is just One of the "versions" I understand (?). I Could have explained it better as well- But the yuri post got me thinkin xD

You don't need to apologize at all! You honestly treat Christianity with more respect than it even deserves (/lh) and you definitely won't offend my ex-Catholic ass. Speaking of, I'm going to preface this by saying that I was raised Catholic so that's the pov through which I view the Bible, but not all sects of Christianity teach and view things the same way.

ANYWAY, right from the top - The Christian God is not a benevolent God. To Catholics, God is more of a force to be feared and obeyed than anything else. Many would disagree if you said this to their face, but the roots of institutional Catholicism are shame, guilt, and control. Sin is something that we innately desire to commit, but must have the fortitude to resist. Humans' lives on Earth are a trial, a test, a period to devote yourself to God and gain your entry into Heaven through resisting the temptation to sin.

That being said, Lucifer is the embodiment of what happens when you choose to sin and when you choose to defy God. There is no actual, textual reason for Lucifer's rebellion given in the Bible however I was taught that his greatest sins were jealousy (he is jealous of how God favors humans) and pride (he was arrogant and wanted to be on the same level as God/wanted to be independent of God). Lucifer and a host of angels loyal to him waged war on the other angels who were led by Archangel Michael, who cast them all down after defeating them.

Adam and Eve were ejected from the garden for the very same thing; They chose to directly disobey God by partaking of the forbidden fruit (fun fact, the Bible never says what fruit it is! No idea why everyone thinks it's an apple). Lucifer tempted them with the same thing that captivated him so much:

"And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die: For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as Gods, knowing good and evil." (Genesis 3:4)

Both these stories mirror the eternal struggle Catholics face: The desire to sin vs the self control to obey God.

God sending Jesus to Earth is essentially seen as his greatest gift and mercy to humanity. After Adam and Eve partook of the forbidden fruit humans became independent, self-centered, and greedy. Humanity as a whole was too thoroughly corrupted by sin to return to God and in Old Testament times sacrifices had to be given to atone for sins. So, Jesus was sent to teach the word of God and to bring people closer to God. He was sacrificed to take all of humanity's sins unto himself, absolving the human race of that darkness - "Jesus died for your sins" and all that. This is why he's called the "lamb of God", lambs being a very common sacrificial animal.

Tl;dr: Lucifer wanted to be independent so God permabanned him. God killed an aspect of himself to absolve humanity of the sin he programmed us to have in the first place 👍 if you don't do everything the clergy God tells you to, you go to Hell forever 👍👍