100cc's of sugar {jaybird}

[CLEO EVERETT]

Cleo Everett was going to die. She was quite literally going to keel over and cease living. Because if she didn’t get something sweet in her system right this very second, everything would simply stop and she would be done. She only had a couple of hours to go until she could buy every pastry known to Gingey’s and stuff her face and have her teeth become riddled with cavities. She didn’t care if the sudden sugar rush would mess with her body. She didn’t care if her friends would make fun of her for only making it the length of the dare. “Ohmygooooooooooooooooooooood,

” she moaned, bumping her head against the headrest behind her. She was angrier than usual at red lights and tailgaters and people cutting her off. She was unbelievably pissed at customers who gave her trouble when she worked at the DISNEY STORE. It should’ve been illegal to be in a bad mood working at some place so magical, but it was entirely possible.

Slamming her foot down on the pedal, Cleo shot ahead and sped the rest of the way to the Jacobs Apartment Complex. Living with her mother and grandfather wasn’t helping because they were worried about her and they tempted her with cookies every day, telling her they’d keep it a secret, and that she could still win the dare. Sometimes Cleo really wished she was still at Barrie. The routine of it all was what she really missed, but it did suck not being able to live with Scottie and Sadie, and visiting Jemissa and Jamie at their dorms all the time, and lounging about in the common room. One could only take so much of the home they’d been moved into against their will, especially when that home was littered with clocks and the tick tick ticking of them at all hours of the day. AHHHHHHHHHIGJAHDSF, SHE WAS GOING INSANE.

She tapped her knuckles on Jacob’s door three times before stepping in and almost immediately breaking down right there because she hadn’t realized how much she missed him. There were times when she still worried he was just going to up and leave. He’d done it before, almost all of her friends had done it before. She’d started to expect it of people, that they’d just ditch her eventually. “Jaybird.[/color]” Cleo called, sounding tired and frustrated and at her breaking point. “I need a grilled cheese sandwich and a Harry Potter movie playing in the background, stat.[/color]” She almost felt bad to ask so quickly, but he was her boyfriend, wasn’t he? Wasn’t it his job to take care of her? And if not even as a boyfriend, at the very least, her best guy friend.
Cleo hadn’t actually told him about the dare she’d accepted, and it was one of the things gnawing at her. If there was one person she told everything to, it should’ve been him. But she’d never liked the idea that she could drunk enough to accept a dare like this, and she still felt sort of bad about the whole thing in general. Just thinking of that night gave her a headache, and that headache was now merging with her current one and—“Also some Tylenol.[/color]” Realizing she was still standing at the door, Cleo made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. “And a hug.[/color]”


notes; template and outfit later, EXCITED
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color][/size][/font]

[JACOB HARLOW]

Of course Jacob had no idea what the hell Cleo did. Otherwise he would tell her to break off the dare, and help her nurse her wounded ego. In all the years (there were a lot of them) that he knew Cleo, there was no way in hell she could pull off this dare without losing her complete and utter mind. At the moment though, he was blissfully unaware of the fishy shitstorm that was swimmin' her way right to his humble lion's den. He was happily laying on his bed, laptop balanced on his scrawny chest, casually tapping the down arrow as he mindlessly surfed the #food porn tag on tumblr. Many, many sweet toothed ideas were coming into his brain. Maybe he should suggest some of these to his boss. Get Gingey's to switch some stuff up a bit.

Unfortunately, the laptop nearly tumbled off as he heard the call of his goldfish, and sat up at attention a little too quickly. Before even managing to get out of bed, he heard her request and a lazy smile curled his lips as he sauntered out of the bedroom, his hair a distorted mess. He could really use a haircut. Or a brush. But it was a lazy day--he was allowed to lounge about if he wanted to. Shoving his hands into his hoodie, he detoured into the bathroom to snatch the tiny bottle of Tylenol because meandering back towards the livingroom where Cleo was...extremely distraught.

Thick eyebrows lifted up towards his messy hair. She...didn't look good. Well. She always looked good, but something didn't seem very right. "Did your goldfish die?" He asked curiously, trying to ignore the very angry growl he heard in his ear. As much as Figaro enjoyed toying with Cleo, the idea of his pretty fish actually glubbing her last glub made the cat very, very unhappy.

He hooked one long arm around her shoulder and tugged her in, kissing her forehead before pushing the bottle gently into her hands, and continuing his lazy little walk to the kitchen. "Extra cheesy? Want tomato soup with it also, Your Majesty?" He questioned, a little smile curling his lips as he leaned over into the fridge to pull out the slices of cheese, and then grabbed the loaf of bread from ontop of the freezer. Maybe...just maybe she was PMSing. Jacob tried to not think about moods brought on by that--typically Cleo didn't make demands. She'd ask nicely, bat those pretty eyelashes at her--and like a sucker, Jacob would comply.

Turning the stove on with the frying pan ontop, he began to carefully toast the bread, before laying the cheese ontop, flipping the other piece of bread onto it.

Tell me that shirt isn't perfect, though.

[CLEO EVERETT]

The first thing she did was glare at him.

And immediately felt bad for it afterwards.

Really, though, who said things like that? He goldfish made the best angry fish noise she could. Cleo had no word to describe it, but she retreated back into Cleo’s mind, curled up in her little castle. “That’s not funny.

” It came out a lot more snappily than she meant it to, but she didn’t feel bad for that one. That he’d said that meant he knew she was in a bad mood, and that he should know better than to say something like that, and that he said it anyway was really starting to get to her. Even though she should’ve been over it by now. Rolling her shoulders before he pulled her in for a hug, she was just a tad bit more relaxed when she sunk into him. Why couldn’t she just stay attached to his side like this for the rest of eternity?

Taking the Tylenol from him, she twisted the cap off and dropped two into her palm. She took a mouthful of water and swallowed the pills, closing the bottle and setting her cup down. Cleo closed her eyes and let herself have a moment of nothing but quiet breathing. Okay. Little better. Opening one eye to watch him, she shrugged in reply. “Extra cheesy, yes. Tomato soup… if you don’t mind?[/color]” She sounded a lot whinier than she realized and she hastily tacked on a “please[/color]”because grumpy annoyed irritated Cleo didn’t mean impolite Cleo. Looking around the kitchen gave her that nice fuzzy feeling of familiarity. She went to sit down at the table, curling up on the chair and pulling one of her legs to her chest. “Sorry for, uh… barging in.[/color]” Why hadn’t she thought that maybe Jacob would be busy?

Already, the smell of the bread toasting made her feel better. Jacob’s presence alone was nice; she liked watching him, with his scruffy hair and his hoodie and how he just sort of had this lazy way about doing things. A smile worked its way onto her face, just from admiring him. She was kind of worried about feeling better, because she knew, she could feel it, that any little thing would make her snap. She was so close to her boiling point, she knew it, and she was worried that something would happen and she’d start a fight. And she didn’t want to start a fight! Groaning a little, she lowered her forehead onto her knee and tried not to think about the lack of sweets in her system right then. “I didn’t interrupt anything important, did I?[/color]” Her question was muffled and apologetic. What sort of girlfriend was she to act as if Jacob was there for her every beck and call? A terrible one, that’s what kind.

outfit
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color][/size][/font]

[JACOB HARLOW]

Jacob’s mouth twitched when Cleo snapped about the fish comment. Something was definitely bothering her, and even though he shouldn’t really be egging it on, there was a strange amusement he got from it. Which he entirely blamed on Figaro, because every time he did so—he felt a little purr in the back of his mind. While the extra-cheesy grilled cheese cooked nice and slow on the stove, Jake grabbed a can of tomato soup from the pantry above, and the pot below.

“If I didn’t want you barging in,” He began, hooking the can into the can opener, listening to the whirr for a moment. “I’d lock my door, and not give you a key.” Jake shrugged, pouring the soup into the pot, before grabbing the milk to add just a little bit of it to the pot to take out some of the bitterness of the tomato soup. “Then again, if your fish is anything like Figaro, she could go through walls and just glub annoyingly at me until I let you in.” He shrugged, tossing the can effortlessly into the trash, before grabbing for the salt, pepper, and oregano from the spice rack next to the stove.

Turning off the burners, Jake pulled out a plate and slid the sandwich onto it, cutting it diagonally to cool off faster, and just so Cleo could savor it more. Pieces were always better in his opinion, it made someone think there was more of something. Pouring the soup into a bowl, he balanced the bowl right on top of the plate, and pulled a few Goldfish crackers from the pantry, and topped the soup with a few, carefully floating in the shape of a ‘C’, before bringing the plate over to Cleo. “There you are, your majesty.” Jacob smiled that crooked smile, and pressed a kiss against her soft cheek before lazily dropping himself into the chair across the table. “So, what’s got your fins in a bunch today, Fishgirl? You’re particularly snarky.”

Tell me that shirt isn't perfect, though.