It's funny because sometimes I'll get very angry and frustrated about something IRL, and my brain will just take all that anger and frustration and dump it into some old or new fandom thing I hate.
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Bite It Lick It Spit It - where'd you put it (extra)
A/n: thought I'd add a lil smth smth since everyone's loving the previous story, enjoy you horny mfs MUAH 💋
Warnings - suggestiveness not really any smut. Still mdni just in case doe <3
The original - masterlist
After that blissed out night, you've been wearing that underwear. All. The. Time. And she loved it, it drove her mental. Whether you were just wearing a plain t-shirt with them around the house. You'd wear them with skirts in public. You were like an intoxicating drug in her eyes, mind and soul. She truly couldn't get enough.
So much so, you found them missing on occasion. Either they were in the wash, or Ms Eilish had them somewhere in her possession. Theyd tend to go missing when you take them off after a long day. Her fucking favorite. Once you eventually caught on it was her doing the abducting, you came to her. Justtt to ask. Even though you had all the idea on why she did.
"Bils." You say going over to her and patting her down. "Frisky much?" She replies. "Where on earth have you put them." She brings her finger up to her lips. " 's a secret." You roll your eyes. "Billieeee." "Fine fine, they're probably in my pants on the sofa in our room." Your eyebrow raises. "Probably?" She shrugs. "Orrr they could be in a few others- I can't remember which." You sigh at the response. "You're crazy." You say heading for the stairs. "For you? Fuck yeah baby!"
It had become a habit that she'd stick them in her Jean pants. She'd take it to work sometimes forgetting where she was, and the fact she still had them in there until Finneas embarrassed the shit out of her. Or more so herself.
"We could maybe do something like this-" He began to speak about the stuff they were working on, when he noticed something on the floor. He knew Clauds underwear and that was something she definitely didn't own. "What on earth." He bends slightly, picking it up. Billies eyes widen, so incredibly wide her eyes might've popped out. Her cheeks go so red, snatching them out of his hand. Fuck, you dumbass idiot. She swallows. There was an awkward silence wondering how he was going to react. When this dude, let's out the wheeziest laugh known to man.
Billies eyes rest, almost glearing at him. "That is not funny, I can't believe that just fucking happened." He tries to control his laughter. "You truly are a dumbass." She swats his arm but he just continues his giggles. "Back to work come on." She spits, having enough of the laughing. "I was like- hmm Claudia doesn't own anything this-" "FINNEAS." She groans. He just laughs some more, she was never living that down. But Billie being Billie she eventually joins in on the laughing, shaking her head at the silly situation.
Yet again you were on the search for them, looking through most of her pants. You gave up in the end, calling her.
"You have them as we speak don't you."
"Well damn, you caught me."
Even during she needed them. Just the fact such a tight slutty thing was on your body for the whole day drove her wild, she didn't care in the slightest how filthy any action may be. Sniffing them, so on and so on. One of her filthy fantasies was you having them in your mouth, as you rode her. Just dangling there between your teeth. You were a tad bit confused at why she requested that, but the way she'd moan under you. The way she'd say your name. The feeling of her fingertips on the skin of your thighs as you rode her. Mixed in with your tits bouncing in her face. It was foul, but she enjoyed every single bit of it.
She was so thankful you went into that shop that day. Blessing not only you with a pretty pair of new underwear. But her aswel, getting the pleasure of witnessing it first hand.
You're welcome
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Three Books, Two Characters, One Story
An essay on Zuko and Katara's characters and character arcs
——————
Zuko and Katara, fire and water, red and blue, one rises with the sun, the other rises with the moon. And yet, they are similar, tied together and grew closer than they could have imagined. In this essay I will discuss Zuko and Katara's characters in Avatar: The Last Airbender. I intend to touch on their shared traits and backgrounds, on their development and on their points of convergence in their over overarching story. Now, without further ado, let's begin.
——————
The Common Ground
Zuko and Katara share their core traits and core events in their respective lives. Firstly, their loss of their mothers. Zuko lost his mother, Ursa; and Katara lost her mother, Kya. But if you ask me, it goes deeper than that. For Zuko, the loss was a loss of shelter from the cruelty of his father and the bliss of being a child. In Zuko Alone, we see how Ursa took care of Zuko, played with him, and gave him a proper childhood.
With that gone, he remained almost completely unprotected. But more importantly, he lost his childhood. (It is true that he still had Iroh, but Iroh can help to an extent. He can’t be at the dinner table when Ozai tells Zuko he was lucky to be born).
Similarly, when Katara’s mother died, something in her internalized it. As Sokka says in The Runaway:
We see Katara help fill the void many times in A:TLA. Namely in The Desert, where she takes care of the Gaang in ways ranging from giving her bending water to endangering herself to pull A\ang out of the Avatar State. Katara doesn’t like to be viewed as someone who lost her childhood, as her reaction to Sokka’s speech was to join Toph and go scamming. However, Kya’s death is an integral part of who she became. She wants to cling to her childhood, and she partly succeeds,but that speech was made for a reason. A part of it was gone with Kya.
Another parallel between their similar grief is sacrifice. Zuko’s mother left to save his life from Fire Lord Azulon’s ruthless order. Katara’s mother died when pretending to be the last waterbender of the South Pole when a Fire Nation raid came looking for her. Both of their mothers left because they protected them, saving their lives from the cruelty of the Fire Nation. In these parallel narratives, the themes of sacrifice against them are intertwined.
But beyond their grief, I believe that at their center, they are very similar. Zuko and Katara are filled with righteous anger and empathy even towards strangers. Although clearly everyone in the Gaang is a good person, doing their part in ending the war, it’s not a defining trait as it is for Zuko and Katara. In The Painted Lady, Katara insists on helping a Fire Nation village while Sokka pressures that they’ll leave to make it to the invasion, while Toph and A\ang remain natural. Her compassion clashes with the Gaang. When Sokka scolds her for being impulsive with her attempts to aid the village, Katara angrily responds with this:
Similarly, the thing that kicked off Zuko’s arc was this righteous anger. In The Storm, we learn that Zuko’s scar came from him standing up to a general who suggested sacrificing a division of rookies for an operation.
You can't sacrifice an entire division like that! Those soldiers love and defend our nation! How can you betray them?
It is their shared compassion and anger at the injustices around them that makes them and the way they interact with the world so similar. Iroh described Zuko as “an idealist with a pure heart with unquestionable honor”. How well does this describe Katara?
Moreover, it is not only their anger. They are both incredibly strong willed with how they act on their anger. In The Waterbending Master, when Katara found out master Pakku won’t teach her because she’s a girl, she didn’t give up. She challenged him, a master, to a fight to prove that she can do everything a boy can do. And Zuko’s strong will is almost over talked about. When A\ang escaped his ship, he jumped on his airbender staff. In Zuko Alone, Ursa said to him “That’s who you are, Zuko. Someone who keeps fighting even though it’s hard”.
To sum up, Zuko and Katara’s foundational events and personality traits are parallels to one another. They both lost their mother when they sacrificed themselves for them, and it marked the end of an era for them. They are both driven by compassion and righteous anger and have a strong willed personality. They are guided by their morals first and foremost. They are parallels to one another.
The Development
Zuko and Katara’s character arcs serve as parallels to each other, and bring them closer together. Zuko’s redemption arc is, to put it simply, about unlearning Fire Nation propaganda and coming to realize the horror his country inflicted on the world. In book 2 Zuko sees the harm they caused first hand, and in The Day of Black Sun he fully rejects the Fire Nation.
Zuko: Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was.
He rejects the lie that the Fire Nation is somehow helping the world - that it’s inherently good. His arc was about unlearning Fire Nation supremacy.
Katara’s arc is not as easy to pin down, but it’s nevertheless there. Her arc is about idealism, hope and a change in perspective. Katara started her journey as an idealist, the literal voice of hope in the opening, and with a black and white view of the world - the Fire Nation is evil, and everyone else is good. Throughout the show, Katara encounters both good people from the Fire Nation, and bad people from around the world of Avatar, such as Long Feng, Jet and Hama. In The Puppetmaster in particular she learns that waterbending can be just as destructive as firebending, if not more so. Her arc is about unlearning naivety and Fire Nation inferiority.
The symmetry comes from them learning to lean on the other’s view across the seasons. In book 1, they are rigid in their view. Zuko is still working a full time job tracking the Avatar, while Katara still clings to her black and white view of the world, such as when she had a conversation with a Firebender who told her firebending is inherently destructive. In book 2, Zuko becomes a fugitive and sees the Fire Nation’s horrors for himself, while Katara sees that the one safe haven from the Fire Nation can be evil too. In book 3, Zuko goes back to the Fire Nation to see that it’s not what he’d imagined at all, while Katara goes to the Fire Nation to find people just like her.
Not only are their arcs symmetrical, but they are what allows their bond to flourish. Katara can only forgive Zuko after she’d let go of her ideals, and Zuko can only seek to redeem himself in her eyes after he’d let go of his idealization of the Fire Nation. Their bond is a true testament to their arcs.
The Encounters
Zuko and Katara’s relationship carries a lot of narrative weight. Their journeys are intertwined on many occasions. For Katara, it’s significant that after Katara masters waterbending, it is Zuko whom she has to defend herself to. It’s significant that she sees humanity in Zuko, despite him being the face of the Fire Nation. It’s meaningful that she goes to find her mother’s killer with Zuko, and even bloodbends before him. And finally, it’s meaningful that she spends the 4 part finale with him.
For Zuko, it’s significant that when he truly connects with someone other than his uncle, it’s with Katara. It’s significant that he learns through Katara that revenge doesn’t always help. It’s significant that Katara is the last member he has to earn forgiveness from. And it’s meaningful that jumping in front of a lightning bolt to save Katara is his last act of redemption.
While Sokka and Zuko for instance never interact in book 1 besides some one liners, Katara and Zuko had a subplot around Katara’s necklace. Although their stories do diverge, such as most of book 2, they always return to spend the season’s finales together. They don’t drive each other’s characters forward as much as they represent milestones in each other’s stories. You cannot remove their scenes together and have the rest of the show make sense.
——————
In conclusion, Zuko and Katara’s characters follow a story of mutual suffering, personal development, and deep friendship. They have a common experience of sacrifice, sorrow, and unflinching compassion. These experiences have narrative weight because they act as development, redemption, and forgiveness catalysts, creating a connection that ultimately serves as a reminder of how far they’ve come.
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wrong;
pairing: könig x f!reader
wordcount: 2.5k+
warnings: fluff?
note: ngl i had fun making this and i hope yall get a laugh from this or something (also on AO3)
summary:
of all the kortac members you’ve worked and hung out with, you try to avoid könig the most. the austrian man comes off as normal and even endearing at first, masking his anxiety with comedy, always being thoughtful of people's needs and personal space. but the more you hung out with him the more you realise he might actually have a woman held hostage in his house. he likes to talk about her, mostly innocuous comments about her new hobbies, but from time to time könig lets out insane comments in such a casual tone that rendered you and other kortac operators speechless.
bunny doesn't like men so when my kitchen was renovated i had to put her in the basement..
—sometimes she misbehaves so much i want to hit her but i can't so i had to leash her.
no one dares to talk about his bunny, you notice everyone skirting around the subject and never asking him directly about her even though he’s actively bringing her up in conversations. you don’t mind being around him during assignments, since he’s usually too busy saving people’s lives and covering his teammates backs to think about his ‘bunny’. but outside of combat? at the base? at karaoke or bars? you avoid him as much as possible.
until you slipped up, of course.
you were tired; unwashed, thinking only of the food in front of you and the long luxurious cold shower you’re going to have right after.
hearing the word ‘sick’ somewhere in your vincinity you immediately went into worry mode and asked follow up questions before your brain could determine who was talking.
horangi lets out a cough next to you, and only then you realise who said the word ‘sick’ and about whom.
the usually boisterous man looked so downtrodden, barely eating his dinner, moving his food around his metal tray.
“it’s bunny..” he whined, his hood blowing forwards for a moment before settling back in place.
“i’m sorry to hear that.” you offered, curtly. you thought of the least offensive thing you could muster that wouldn’t evoke any other bunny related tidbits. “how long until your assignment’s over?”
“two months.”
“i’m sure she’ll be fine.” you assured him, “hope she feels better soon, könig.”
he rested his chin on his open palm, “she can’t take care of herself, i had a friend stay at my house to take care of her.”
you glance at horangi, hoping he’d steer the conversation away. he halfheartedly shrugged as he dug into his food, unwilling to help. you dug your own grave, the shrug seems to imply.
“your friend is probably doing their best, you just have to trust them.”
horangi raised his brows and smirked at you. you poked him with one of the corners of your metal tray playfully when you two were done eating. laughing as he bumps your hip with his, saying something in korean before answering, “you have to learn to evade the bunny topic yourself. you did good.”
perhaps this is the nicest, or the only thing anyone has ever dared to say about his captive, because he turned up at your shared bunk that night. stiletto immediately fiddled with her butterfly knife when she saw who was at the door.
“may i talk to you?” his gaze jumped from your eyes to something behind you before looking at you again quickly and looking away again.
stiletto snarked at him from her bed, “you can talk over there with the door open.”
thankful for her caution, you see könig doesn’t seem too bothered by it.
“i’m worried about bunny.” he lowered his voice, bending a little so his head was closer to yours.
“oi! three feet apart!” you hear her yell alongside the soft clitter-clatter of her butterfly knife.
könig straightened up immediately, it’s so funny seeing him obey stiletto without question even though he’s her senior in age and rank.
“your friend is with bunny, no?” you tried reassuring him.
“ja.” he squares up to his full height, making you step back to even be able to look at his face. “she is taking care of bunny but she is no doctor.”
“neither am i.” you shrugged, turning to look at stiletto for reassurance.
to your relief she grumbled at the colonel, “get to the point, könig.”
the austrian threw a look at your bunkmate before looking back down at you.“i want you to go see her.”
your heart gave a little jolt, and you’re sure your whole body did too.
what.
blinking slowly, you turn your head to give stiletto a wide-eyed stare before looking back at him. “you want me to go see… your girl?”
his expression shifted, you could see the twinkle in his eyes hearing you’re not outright rejecting his proposal. “ja, ja, i want you to see bunny. you seem like a nice person. i want you to check up on bunny, and maybe stay with her until i come back.”
“stay?” you repeated. “at your house? where bunny is?”
nodding excitedly, he stepped forwards, “ja, exactly. i’ll pay your tickets.”
you want to look back and make faces at your roommate but out of respect you just look as confused as you could and tell him you would give him an answer tomorrow.
as soon as the door closed and könig’s footsteps can no longer be heard, stiletto hissed from her bed, “ma che cazzo, he is crazy.”
plopping down next to her, “i feel sorry, though.”
she slapped your upper arm, “his crazy is catching. what the fuck?”
“i mean, if he wants me to visit then how bad could the situation be, right?” you try to make sense of his actions. “if bad comes to worse i can always call the police.”
stiletto groaned, “the police could be in on it, idiota.”
she’s right.
but,
he’s your co-worker. if you go missing during your planned trip to austria on könig’s dime, there would definitely be an investigation, right? there’s paper trail and receipts and everything.
you voice your thoughts to your roommate and she sighs in defeat.
“your funeral, bunny number two.”
—
you arrived at könig’s little countryside (remote) house, with its dilapidated (creepy) looking roof and peeling windowsill. a gigantic rabbit greeted you in his lush front garden, happily chewing on a celery stalk and hopping away from the iron gate as you approached.
hop? that thing looks like it could gallop. there must be something in the water here that makes everything grow so large. how far is chernobyl from this place, again?
staring at his front door an embarrassingly long time, you took a quick and deep breath before knocking. his front door felt so foreboding you instinctively step back right after.
the woman greeting you with a smile looks a little bit older than you, with a charming smile that would definitely make you feel safe if you’ve never heard of the way könig talks about his girlfriend.
“hi, im here to see……” your eyes dart around your peripherals to make sure there’s no one that could ambush you, “..bunny?”
she gestured at the rabbit in the patch of sunlight behind you.
the world as you know it crumbled before your eyes. the sun shone brighter, the dilapidated windows look fine, and did you call his cabin creepy earlier? you meant cosy.
you blinked slowly. “that’s.. bunny?” you reiterated, turning halfway back at the rabbit while pointing at it.
“ja, bunny is rabbit in english? yes?” she sounded a little impatient, “are you a vet? she is all better now.” its clear from her tone and the hard stare she gave you that she’s offended of könig’s distrust in her ability to take care of his pet rabbit.
putting your hand up, “no, i’m his friend.” you stared back at the rabbit again for a little longer, making sure its actually a rabbit and not a woman in a realistic rabbit suit. you’ve seen the $15000 collie suit that went viral a few years back, “so…. könig’s girlfriend doesn't live here?”
crossing her arms, it was her turn to blink slowly. “girlfriend? i’ve only seen him bring men home.”
as much as you wanted to laugh out loud at the second big misunderstanding this poor man has in his life, it makes complete sense why she would think that way. “i see.” was all you could muster.
“come in, then.” she offered.
taking note of where the basement is as she points at things while giving you a tour, you opened the door to be immediately greeted by a well lit space, with a little rabbit enclosure at the back, a waist high fence separating the space from the rest of the basement. it had one of those hamster wheels although a much larger size, a pet bed, and neat stack of hay just outside the fence gate. you took careful steps further down in the basement, and you do see a little clasp and a leash hanging off the wall by the pet bed.
the first thing you after your brain process the whole information is run back outside and update the group chat.
stiletto had to personally call you fifteen minutes later because you weren’t active in the group chat.
könig came home to bunny sitting on what looked like a little trampoline with an umbrella on top of it, munching on some hay with pieces of flowers and fruits strewn about. seeing him, bunny hopped off her little perch. his little fluff of happiness is coming with her ears all perked up to flop on her side by his feet. here are little bows on both her ears and as he crouched down könig could feel all his stress melt away from the sight. picking bunny up, he walked in to find your bags packed and ready by the front door, your socks neatly placed inside each of your shoes.
bunny wiggled as könig roamed his house to look for you, presumably wanting to go back to her feast of hay and flowers and fruits that you set up for her. but when he opened the front door and set her down, she instead hopped further into the home, towards the basement door.
“there’s no man around for you to fear, häschen.” he coos, before looking at the direction bunny is heading.
first thing he saw was you had gathered more hay; könig notes its the expensive one he only gets when he receives his yearly bonus, the old pet bed looks cleaned, and there’s a new even bigger one by the wheel. he spots you in the corner fastening the leash hook.
“you want beer?” he offered in lieu of a greeting. you could hear the smile in his voice.
bunny punched the gate, signalling that she wants to go in the enclosure to possibly use the wheel or be with you. he unlatched the gate and watched with fascination as she hopped over to you, standing on her hind legs to see what you’re doing.
“oh hey könig, i’m just about done.” you pointed at the little sand pit next to the stairs, “careful of the sand pit.”
you heard him shuffle around behind you. the man is lazy and drags his feet when he’s not in combat. “you built this for bunny?” he sounded surprised, the sound of sand being played with grabbed your attention so you opted to stop fiddling with the hook and come see what he’s doing.
bunny followed you as you walked towards him, “yeah, we pitched in for a lot of the stuff. there’s a card upstairs.”
the tall man was grabbing some sand visibly stiffened at your reply. könig turned his head slowly towards you, “we?” the casualness dropped off his posture at that moment. “card?”
hearing the scepticism in his voice, you nodded and pointed at the door to usher him upstairs.
he stayed, looks down at the sand as if it was the most interesting thing in the world for him. bunny filled the long pause with her little clucks and chatters as you absentmindedly pet her. “i thought you guys didn’t like bunny..” he said weakly, returning to playing with the sand, slower this time.
oh no.
looking at it from his perspective, you saw how shitty you all must’ve looked. he had mentioned how sick his pet was and no one asked a single question nor seemed to care.
at this point bunny has sensed his distress and made her way towards him to cuddle. she’s really good at that, sensing peoples moods and coming over to offer comfort.
you think you will just rip the bandage off, or maybe at this point it’s more like giving him a surprise brazilian wax. “könig we thought bunny was your girlfriend. and you chain her up in the basement and everything.”
“WAS? WAS MEINST DU???” he turned your head to you so fast you could see little beads of sweat coming off his hair.
you think he’s yelling WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? so you continued on, swallowing thickly. “none of us were ever sure if you were talking about an animal or a person and we just…. yeah…” the look of horror in könig’s eyes was reflected in his overall disposition which prompted bunny to snuggle into his chest deeper. “i’m sorry könig…”
as you can see his world unravelling before him, you decided this would be the perfect time to leave him and his little rabbit alone.
a text in the big group chat popped up later that night.
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Heyy could I please request a Maddy Perez x fem!reader and they are both dating, but the reader is really shy but like also the sweetest person ever and would never hurt a fly, but she also hates like drama or other people fighting/yelling, so the reader gets a but uncomfortable at the intervention when everyone is yelling and fighting. So like the reader and Maddy are both comforting each other, it would be like hurt/comfort with fluff at the end. If you don’t want to do it then no pressure at all 😭😭 (btw I’m 18+)
Intervention
Maddy Perez x Fem!Reader
Summary: You were the calm to Maddy's storm, the only person who could talk her down after finding out about Cassie and Nate.
Warnings: Lots of language, intervention shit, mentions of Nate (🤮)
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Look at me go, y'all! I cranked this out, and it's not half bad. Took me over a month, though. Sorry about that.
navigation euphoria masterlist
---
You and Maddy were complete opposites, which is why you worked so well together as a couple. She was bold and outgoing, while you were more reserved and shy. To give you some credit, you could most definitely fight for yourself if needed, but Maddy tended to fight for you first. The two of you had only been together for a few weeks, but you knew that you would last a long time.
You hated confrontation, and you avoided it as much as possible, but you would do anything to help your friends. This was how you ended up in the Howard household, preparing to stage an intervention for Rue Bennett.
You nervously watch as the girl of the hour comes around the bend, before groaning when she catches sight of the group standing at the bottom of the stairs. She sits down, practically collapsing, and bangs her head on the wall behind her while muttering, “Oh, fuck.”
Maddy slips her hand into yours, knowing that this could get messy really fast. As if it wasn’t already. You squeeze her hand gratefully, using the physical contact as a grounding method. You watch as Rue’s mom begins to talk to her daughter.
“This can’t make you feel good, Rue. Living like this, lying to the people you love, being mean to the people you love,” At this, you glance over at Lexi, trying to shoot her comforting look. “This can’t make you feel good about yourself.”
Rue sighs, dragging her hands down her face. “I don’t care, just fucking leave me alone please.” She sounds on the verge of tears, and her mother takes a step towards the staircase. “I know you’re in pain.”
Rue begins to get angry, quietly exclaiming, “You have no fucking idea, mom.” Her mom continues to talk to her calmly, trying to convince her to go to the hospital. Cassie walks forward slightly, in front of the area where you were standing with Maddy, Kat, and Lexi.
“I can’t get clean, I can’t do that shit forever.” You can hear the pain in Rue’s voice, and it makes your heart ache for your friend. Cassie takes another step forward, and you realize that she’s about to throw a wrench in this whole operation.
She swings her arms before over encouragingly saying, “You don’t have to. Just, take it one day at a time.” You wince slightly, knowing that she basically opened herself up for anything Rue wants to attack her with.
When Cassie glances around, you see Maddy gesture to her that it was a little too much, letting you know that the two of you were on the same page.
“Hey, Cass?” You wince when you hear Rue’s voice again, knowing that whatever comes next isn’t going to be pretty. Cassie responds innocently, and Rue follows up with, “I have a quick question for you.”
Cassie seems confused, responding, “What?” Rue sighs before answering, “How long have you been fucking Nate Jacobs?” You inhale sharply, not expecting that to come from the brunette girl. You feel Maddy tense up beside you, which sets you even more on edge.
Cassie is silent for a moment, before she starts nervously laughing. “Wh-What are you talking about?” Rue doesn’t hesitate before asking her question again, and this is when you know that all hell is about to break loose.
Cassie begins to stutter out denials, but Maddy ignores her in favor of questioning Rue. “What are you talking about?” Rue begins to play the innocent victim, turning all attention away from the actual intervention.
“Oh, I just- I saw her get in his truck and then kiss him and drive off, that was like, what, like uh… like a month ago?” You let out a slow exhale, realizing that was before you and Maddy had gotten together. So… Nate had cheated on Maddy with Cassie, Maddy’s best friend. Holy shit.
Maddy gives Cassie a dangerous look before dropping your hand and exclaiming, “Are you kidding me?” Cassie can’t even defend herself anymore as she just lets out whimpers and tries to hold back her tears. From behind you, Kat states, “Cass, that’s like, really bad.”
“You’re fucking Nate. Are you kidding me?!” You want to try to calm Maddy down, but she has a right to be angry. You know that she’s over Nate, but her best friend slept with her ex-boyfriend while they were still together. She trusted Cassie, and she fucked her over.
Cassie continues to try to stutter out denials, but Maddy exclaims, “You’re lying!” Ms. Howard tries to break up the argument by focusing back on the actual reason why everyone was here, but Maddy refuses. You take a step back as she explodes.
“No. No! You expect me to stand here next to my best friend who's been lying to me about fucking my ex-boyfriend? I’m literally going to get violent!” Ms. Howard tries to stop her again, but when Maddy sees that Cassie is crying, she storms forward.
Kat tries to grab her, but when she misses, she whisper-yells, “Y/N! Fucking do something! You’re the only person she’ll listen to.” You nod and sigh, getting ready to step into the fray where you were the most uncomfortable.
“You’re the one who’s hurt? You’re the most self-centered, idiotic person I have ever fucking met. You fuck my ex? And you’re fucking crying? Are you fucking kidding me?” You step up to her and place your hand on her arm. She goes to shrug you off, but when she realizes it’s you, she leans into your body.
You hold her, moving away from Cassie as Ms. Bennett yells at the rest of you. As she yells, you whisper to Maddy, “I’ve got you, baby. She’s not fucking worth it. Please, we came here for Rue. You can finish this later. Please.” She nods into your chest and you kiss her head. As you lead her to the door, you shoot everyone apologetic looks.
When you catch Cassie's gaze, you give her the most murderous look you can muster. Right before you walk out the door, you mouth, “You’re fucking dead.”
---
You drive Maddy to your house before guiding her up the stairs and into your room. She seems less mad and more shellshocked now, but you know at any moment she would break and the tears would come running.
You quickly grab some ice cream from your mini fridge and grab one of your hoodies for Maddy. As soon as you sit down next to her on your bed, she falls into you and begins sobbing. You let her cry as you lay the two of you back and stroke her hair.
She cries for a long time before she quietly asks, “How could she do this? She was my best friend.” You take note of the was, and instead of answering, you just pull the latina woman closer. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a little while before she speaks up again.
“Thank you for talking me out of fighting her there. Not saying I won’t fight her somewhere else, but that wasn’t the time, or the place.” You let out a soft snort at her confession, quietly answering, “Of course. I needed to get out of there, anyway. Was starting to feel claustrophobic.”
Maddy snuggles even deeper into your bed, tired out from everything that went down. As she drifts off to sleep, you hear her mumble, “I love you, Y/N.” You smile gently down at the girl snuggled into you, turning off your light.
You press a kiss to her head and quietly answer, “I love you, too.”
---
@lovelyy-moonlight @pnsteblnme
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The moment I knew // part 5 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia
Summary: Finally it is your time to debut, yet your idea of a first ball does not go as you imagined. A mystery girl taking your place by his side. Can hearts be mended or shall they forever live in spite? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 6 & part 7 part 8 & part 9 & part 10 ]
The doors opened. The feeling of a breath held in. Slowly lifting your head. Eyes locking on the Queen. Her eyes slightly narrowed full of judgement from afar. Taking the first few steps, you kept your gaze on her. Walking by nobles of the ton. Your family amongst them. No matter how much you wanted to acknowledge them, you didn’t. The queen settled with ease on your walk. Then a stop. Taking a graceful deep curtsy for her. Anthony smiling proudly at you. Benedict pressed his lips together, turning his gaze away.
“I promised I wouldn’t cry.” – he whispered blinking rapidly with his lashes. Colin waving his hands before Benedict’s eyes to keep his eyes dry. When you rose gave the queen you a pleasant smile. Turning back around, you headed back. Francesca sighed dreamily. – “Now it is official.” – she whispered to Gregory. – “Now she can marry Tewkesbury.” – Gregory spoke looking back to Anthony.
“Hush.” – Anthony breathed out. Gregory’s gaze went to Colin seeing him mouth an ‘oh she will’ to him. Gregory chuckle turning to Hyacinth to whisper it in her ear. Hyacinth gasped loud making Anthony hush them. In the meantime had you returned to mama. Exhaling deep you flopped down into a chair. Immediately plucking the feather from your hair. You gave the thing a bored look before handing it over to mama.
“You were so graceful my dear. I suspect you’ll be the season’s diamond.” – Violet gushed letting her fingers slide over the feather. You laughed softly. Looking past mama, a girl caught your attention. Hair as brown as chestnut. A mischievous glance in her eyes and a charming smile on her lips. She briefly made eye contact with you before the doors opened for her.
Then she was off presenting herself to the Queen. Mama tapped you on the knee to sit more graceful. You changed your posture sitting better when the doors opened again. The same girl from before walking out. She barely left the entrance when she plucked the feather from her hair. You quirked your eyebrow up when she tossed her shoes off.
Bending down to pick them up and continue on barefoot. You huffed funnily at how little she seemed to care. Getting up you followed mama into another room. There you waited for the queen’s decision on who the diamond of the season would be. You didn’t really cared as you only cared about seeing Tewkesbury again.
After being a year parted from him, you desperately wanted to be with him. Dance the night away with him and declare your love for him. Violet puffed annoyed wrapping an arm around you when they didn’t announce you as diamond of the season. You re-joined with your siblings as Violet kept muttering complaints. You welcomed Benedict’s hug seeing he had cried a little. – “You’re a baby Ben.” – you whispered to him.
“I do not care.” – he whispered back. – “Everyone can see I cried because of my sister’s debut!” – he declared loudly embarrassing you a bit. – “Ben…” – you whispered seeing some nobles chuckle. - “Stop embarrassing her.” – Francesca pitched in slapping Benedict with her glove. Benedict jumped quickly hiding laughingly behind Anthony. Gregory and Hyacinth walked beside you, heading back to the carriage. – “Are you to marry Tewkesbury now?” – Hyacinth asked getting in with you.
“That is what I intend to do.” – you answered. Anthony joined your carriage. – “I do have a say in it.” – he made clear with a brotherly scowl. – “Try your best brother.” – you told him seeing Hyacinth giggle. Colin came squeezing himself in the carriage making Anthony move closer to Hyacinth. – “There is no changing her mind.” – he spoke sitting down. – “and that you must remember brother dear.” – you rubbed in with a pleasing smile.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
The entire household was in a rush. Benedict crossing the hallway while trying to put on his glove. Anthony making final checks on everyone. – “Colin your collar.” – he pointed out seeing it stick out. Colin sighed trying to fix it. Francesca approached him, slapping his hands away so she could fix it for him. Violet held her hand against the back of her hair. – “I’ve lost a pin.” – she called out searching the floor. Eloise joined them presenting herself mockingly to her family.
Anthony sighed loud not even the energy to speak about her lack of care in appearance. – “Eloise at least tie your shoes.” – he said scratching the back of his head. Eloise pulled her dress up, revealing her ankles as she looked dumbfound down at her shoes. Anthony turned his head looking up to the ceiling with a soft groan. – “I’ve send the wrong sister away for manners.” – he muttered to himself. – “Where is she anyways? Y/n!” – Anthony shouted out your name. You appeared from out of the parlor, all dressed up. – “Mama a pin.” – you said walking over to her.
Violet turned to so allowing you to adjust her hair. – “Eloise your ankles are showing.” – you told her without a second glance. Eloise looked down seeing that her sock was not pulled up high enough. She immediately bend down to pull it up. You stopped Benedict adjusting his cuffs. Anthony watching you with admiration. How mature you appeared. You noticed him staring making you furrow your brows. Anthony slightly shook his head, letting you know it was nothing. Grabbing Benedict’s arm, you followed the others outside to the carriages.
Your first attendance to a ball. Lady Danbury always hosted the first ball of the season. Once inside the carriage you felt the anxiety rise. Knee trembling whilst you fidgeted nervously with your fingers. Colin who sat beside you noticed it. Taking your hand, he put a stop to your fidgeting, bringing your hand to his knee. You thanked him with a warm smile. Feeling him squeeze your hand lightly, it eased your nerves. It was rather not the ball you were nervous off.
Rather seeing him again. A year. A year now you hadn’t seen him. Only his words written on paper to comfort you. Opening your reticule you looked down at the acorn inside of it. His promise buried inside of it. His promise of loving you. diving with your hand into the reticule, you held onto the acorn. Pressing it warmly against your palm. If you listened to your heart closely you could feel his words. His words of love for you.
Blink and it will pass. Indeed it has passed. The year you had been away from him felt at first like an eternity, till you had much fun and forgot to count the days. It no longer felt like agony, more like a deeper longing. Sometimes when you forgot to think about him, you felt guilty. Guilty of not having him in your mind. Would he forget about you too? Would he have days too where he forgot to think of you? Letting go of the acorn, you didn’t want to think of it. Pulling your hand back, you closed the reticule once more.
Eyes adverting to the shimmering dusk. Soft tints of orange and pink brewing behind a pressing darkening sky. Lady Danbury’s estate drew closer making you take a deep breath. – “Are you ready?” – Francesca asked you. You nodded. She extended her hand to you, making you let go of Colin’s hand to take hers. – “Don’t let anything stand in your way, Y/n. This is your season.” – she said encouraging. The carriage came to a stop. Colin stepped out as you had room to go closer to Francesca to give her a kiss on the cheek.
Colin waited for you to step out. Taking his hand, you stepped into the open air. Looking up to Lady Danbury’s estate. Out of the second carriage stepped out mama, Anthony, Benedict, and Eloise. Taking Anthony’s arm, he guided you inside. The warmth of her estate clasped around you like a blanket. The symphony of music becoming clearer as the doors opened. Dancers in sync as they twirled. Lady Danbury approaching to greet you all.
“Y/n Bridgerton, what a rare jewel you are.” – she complimented making you curtsy for her. – “Good luck to you.” – she smiled eyeing Anthony. Anthony swallowed nervously, not following immediately. Lady Danbury chuckled amusingly already seeing several interesting suitors looking your way. Smiling at herself, she walked off making Anthony more nervous than he already was. Getting on the tips of your toes, you looked around for a sign of Tewkesbury. Anthony saw two gentleman around their twenties hesitate to make their way over to you.
You gasped confused suddenly being pulled away by your brother. – “This is worse then I thought.” – he mumbled to himself, pushing a way through the crowd with you. – “I only have eyes for Tewkesbury.” – you reminded him. He turned to look at you with a hard stare. – “That I worry too.” – he confessed making you laugh pleasantly. Anthony came to stop where he had a good view of the entire ballroom from each side. He smiled noddingly seeing Colin and Benedict make their way through the crowd over to you. Francesca right behind them.
Francesca joined your side as your three brothers agreed on a set of rules regarding their sisters and possible suitors. – “Have you see him yet?” – she asked wrapping an arm around you. You shook your head, pulling yourself up to look around better. – “He’ll come and when he does you’ll be the first he dances with.” – she answered making eye contact with a young man her age. Anthony noticed it stepping in between Colin and Benedict to reach her and you. He came standing in front of her, shaking his head.
Benedict laughing loud. Anthony grabbed the both of you by the shoulders, pulling you away from the dance. – “Let us fetch a drink sisters.” – he spoke pushing you and Francesca forwards. Francesca smirked at his silly behavior. Benedict and Colin remained having a chat with each other. Colin was staring at the dancers, Benedict turned away from them to acknowledge mother from afar. Colin’s brows furrowed when a pair moved revealing a familiar face.
It was Tewkesbury. He sighed relieved having found him till he noticed the girl he was dancing with. Hair as brown as chestnut. He let her twirl under his arm, gaze constantly on hers till she rejoined him closely. – “Who is that?” – Colin wondered making Benedict turn around. His eyes fell upon Tewkesbury dancing with the young lady. – “Is that not…” – he questioned, Colin confirming his doubts. – “Tewkesbury with another.” – Benedict’s eyes widened looking sharply around to where you were. – “She cannot see this.” – he told Colin knowing how much it would break your tender heart.
Colin gasped anxiously seeing you return with Francesca and Anthony. Colin rushed over coming to block your view. He started you with his odd behavior. – “Anther drink sister?” – he questioned. – “Colin I just went to fetch one.” – you told him showing him the glass in your hand. Colin snatched it from your hand, drinking the lemonade in one gulp down. – “Another sister?” – he repeated. – “Colin!” – Anthony snapped at him.
“Colin what is with you?” – you questioned seeing him take a step aside to keep your view blocked out. Furrowing your brows something felt off. You leaned to the side to try and look as Colin blocked your view again. You tried the other way, getting the same result. – “What are you not letting me see.” – you asked loudly finding his behavior odd and annoyingly. Francesca groaned loud pushing him aside. – “Fran no!” – He called out as the view got cleared.
The dancers spun around as you saw Tewkesbury among them. Instantly you started to smile, till you noticed the girl stepping up to him, looking lovingly up in his eyes. Tewkesbury staring lovingly back at her. He waltzed with her around the room as you stumbled back, feeling like you were going to pass out. Francesca gasped loud, covering up her mouth. Anthony’s eyes widened with shock. – “I tried to shield you…” – Colin breathed out feeling a bit guilty.
Tewkesbury and the girl you recognized from the palace to meet the queen came to a stop. She twirled again under his arm, meeting up with him. Tewkesbury’s gaze was on her till his eyes shifted briefly to the side. His eyes staring in shock at yours. She stepped to the side, expecting him to follow when he didn’t. She furrowed her brows seeing him stare frozenly. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed you and your siblings. Heartbroken you turned around, wiping your cheek dry.
“Wait!” – Tewkesbury called out. – “Wait Miss Y/n!” – he moved to go after you, the girl needing to move to not be pushed over by him. Francesca went after you. – “Miss Y/n wait please.” – Tewkesbury said hastily reaching your brothers. Colin and Anthony blocking his path so he couldn’t follow you. – “Let me through! I need to speak with her!” – He said desperate and annoyed that your brother’s wouldn’t let him pass. Anthony grabbed him firmly by the shoulder. – “You stay away from her!” – He called out, pushing him away. – “Miss Y/n!” – Tewkesbury called out loud catching the attention of many bystanders.
Benedict joined his brothers, leaving through the crowd. Tewkesbury stood still feeling a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his side he saw Enola by his side. She motioned for him to follow her. Meanwhile had Francesca caught up with you. She had taken a hold of your elbow, pulling you to a stop. You turned round, letting yourself fall against her chest. Crying loudly as she comforted you. How betrayed you felt. While you remained loyal to him, had he found someone else.
Someone else to cherish and confess his love to. What a fool you have been. A fool for love to think someone would remain loyal to you. To have believed his words with such truth. It hurt with every inch inside of you, hating that you still wanted him. Your brothers joined your side, having found the two of you. – “I knew it!” – Anthony called out making Benedict glare at him for not being the right time. Colin wrapped his arms around you. He could not believe it.
Firsthand he had seen how caring Tewkesbury was towards you. Firsthand he had witnessed the pure love between the two of you. A love story crumbling down to ashes with the coming of another. Nothing more you wished to leave the ball. Benedict agreed, leading you towards the doors to leave for the hallway. – “Miss Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, catching Tewkesbury hasten his way over to you.
“Miss Y/n please.” – he begged coming closer. Benedict and you came to stop. Benedict stopped him by his shoulder, not letting him come any further. – “I’m going home, my lord.” – you said with a stiff curtsy. Benedict let go of him as you turned round. Tewkesbury grabbed for the ribbon on your back, wanting to hold you.
He felt the fabric slip through his fingers when you walked away from him. Lowering his head, he watched the doors close before his eyes. Benedict and you got into the carriage, returning home. Numbly you stared out of the window. Had you hoped too much?
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Annabeth's Joy
Hi folks!
This here is my first ever birth fic that I write and share!
I’d love your honest opinion and criticism, but please keep in mind I’m new at this, that English isn’t my first language, and that I’m a virgin who knows nothing of sex.
That said, I sincerely hope you all enjoy, and hope it will make you feel hot and bothered ;).
Take care
Herald of Passion
Tags: Pregnancy kink, labor kink, birth kink, sex, sex in labor, orgasmic birth, threesome
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Annabeth was the sexiest girl of our year in college. It became even more true when she got pregnant.
No one knew who knocked her up, but everyone had their own theory. The football captain, the English teacher, pretty much anyone with looks and charisma. But I was going to learn two very important things about Annabeth: she didn’t care about status, and I didn’t care who got her pregnant; I only wished it was me.
We had biology together, and soon got to talking. She and her friend Melanie were inseparable but made place for me at their table. I was the new guy in this college, and they wanted to learn more about me.
How to describe Annabeth? Well, she was stunning, with long flowing brown hair falling down her back, a perfectly chiseled face and piercing eyes. She had pretty big breasts, barely covered by her crop top, her nipples sometimes pointing out. That girl wasn’t afraid of her body and sexuality and encouraged others to do the same.
Every time we were sitting next to each other, she would laugh and touch my arm, and look at me with interest when asking me about my girlfriends and experiences. She almost couldn’t believe I was a virgin.
“Aww sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a girl to fuck you soon.” She told me with a wink, while my cheeks started to burn. I was already imagining bending her over the desk, caressing her growing belly and kissing her neck, our moans mixing as we reach climax.
…
A few months later, she invited me to a fun evening with her friends. We were maybe a dozen, chatting, partying, having fun, and soon, most of them left or were too drunk to stay awake, leaving only me, Annabeth, and Mel who didn’t drink (Anna for obvious reason).
Speaking of obvious, Anna came back to us in a short bikini, clearly dating from before getting pregnant. Her belly was coming out so large in front of her, and her breasts were barely contained by her bra. She told us to get into our swimwear and to join her in the pool, turning around to go outside, my eyes fixed on her perfect ass and rolling hips. Mel gave me an amused look, before taking off her clothes, leaving herself in her bra and panties, before jumping in the water. A bit more self-conscious, but not wanting to miss this opportunity, I got into my underwear too and got into the pool.
There, we chatted and swam for most of the night. I hoped my erection wasn’t too apparent, but the girls’ cheeky look and shared laughs told me it probably wasn’t. I decided to follow Anna’s lack of shame, and simply took off my swimsuit, leaving myself naked. Anna whistled and winked and didn’t make a joke about it. She really was the best girl ever.
…
People were following Anna’s growth and development, and she wasn’t shy with telling everyone about her progress, which meant everyone knew she had been overdue for a week at the point of our last biology session.
“Great news everyone!” exclaimed miss Berkeley as she stood in front of us, a large couch covered with soft covers between us and her. “This year, for our final project, you will assist to a live birth and then write an essay about what the experience. For this, we are very lucky to have Annabeth with us, who graciously offered her birth as a class project.”
Anna smiled and waddled to the front of the room while everyone looked at her. She finally let out a sigh and groan, probably having held them all day at this point. She turned toward Mel and me.
“Will you help send me into actual labor, and then birth my baby?” She asked in her sweet tone as a contraction took her, gripping onto the desk.
We didn’t answer, but I looked at Mel, and we were in harmony. We joined her in front of everyone and started kissing her. Mel and she exchanged a deep and passionate kiss, while I was caressing her big overdue belly. My cock was already making a bulge in my pants, but I wanted to focus on Anna for now. I freed Anna’s breasts from her tank top and placed my lips around her nipple, while Mel took the other. Anna had already started lactating, as she had showed us before, but drinking her milk was ten times better then I could have imagined. Annabeth was moaning and panting, caressing my hair and pulling us closer.
She sat on the desk and spread her legs, revealing her lack of panties. Her pussy lips, wet and puffy, were already soaked with her pleasure. “Lick me, please….” She almost whispered, as she threw her head back to endure another contraction.
I smiled and obliged, my tongue gently sliding between her folds as she moaned, before exchanging a steamy kiss with Mel. They were clearly both liking it, since they took off their clothes and started to caress their breasts, rubbing their nipples between kisses.
While that was happening, I was licking Anna’s lips and circling her clit with my fingers. I could feel her shake from pleasure, but also the pressure and pain building inside of her. My cock was throbbing in my pants, and I just wanted to fuck her and feel her water breaks all over me.
Anna placed her legs over my shoulders and pulled me closer. Mel was gently pulling on her nipples, milk leaking out like faucets over Anna’s contracting belly.
“Ah… Ah… God please… please fuck me… both of you… Ah… make me cum!” Anna panted, jerking her hips to find my mouth.
I placed the tip of my cock between her pussy lips while Mel sat over her face, her hands fondling Anna’s heavy milk-filled breasts. We exchanged a look, and I slid all the way inside in one stroke, sharing a moan with the girls. My first time having sex, with the sexiest girl, actively in labor! I started to move in and out, while Mel and Anna were teasing and touching each other like there was no tomorrow. I could feel Annas contractions as I fucked her, her birth canal pulsing around me as she was slowly dilating, her cervix opening to let her give birth.
Anna was moaning, grunting, and panting, not caring about our classmates watching her at her most vulnerable which, in my mind, was also at her peak of beauty and sensuality.
“You’re so bea… fuck… beautiful Anna!” I groan, before jerking my hips forward again, grinding against her clit, both of us seeking our pleasure.
“…Gonna cum… gonna cum…” she whispered back as both Mel and I caress her large pregnant belly, covered by a sheen of sweat and milk.
“Cum for us darling, let that pregnant pussy of yours gush for all to see…” Mel moaned in Anna’s ear, loud enough for me to understand. Those words were enough to push us all over the edge, cumming and screaming our respective orgasm. Mel grabbed onto Anna’s tits and tried to close her legs, shaking from head to toe, while I was emptying the biggest load of my life deep in our pregnant friend’s pussy, my body jerking on its own, seemingly trying to impregnate the girl actively giving birth. As for Annabeth, she was screaming her heart out, not caring about volume, her cries of pain, discomfort, and sheer pleasure mixing together as her water broke like a floodgate, drenching me in squirt and amniotic fluid.
“Oh god… oh god… my water broke… did my water really break?” She asked, still a bit out of breath, trying to look at me over her pregnant belly, Mel having jumped off her face.
I looked at her and raised an eyebrow with humor, my waist and torso still wet, cock softening slowly, but staying aloft for now.
“Yeah, I think your water broke. Do you need to change position?”
“Maybe… I’ll try standing UPPP!” She shouted, her legs wanting to give out, but Mel and I were quick enough to grab her arms. Anna dropped to a squat, her slit starting to bulge out and part.
“I feel like pushing… fuck! Fuck I need to push!” She shouted, her belly hardening as a contraction wracked her body. Her face scrunched up and she pushed, her lips moving further and further apart under the amazed looks of me and the rest of the class. With me not actively fucking Anna, I was able to split my focus and look at my classmates. Those that weren’t fucking each other or touching themselves were among the minority. The room was filled with shed clothes and moans of pleasure. Anna’s moaning brought me back to the present as she squatted lower, the head peaking out of her pussy. Her nipples were still leaking, ready to feed her baby, but Mel latched onto one of them, while I took the other into my mouth. We drank her sweet-tasting milk as she pushed her baby out, the head now crowning between her legs.
“Fuck it feels good! Keep going… keep going I’m gonna… cuuuuuuuum!” Anna groaned as she squirted the head out, a gush of fluid following her baby making its appearance into the world.
“You’re so hot mama, you’re doing so good. Almost there, ok?” Mel whispered while stroking the future mother’s hair and kissing her neck.
Anna almost purred at the touch, and wrapped her arms around me, squatting low, forcing me down with her. My arms were massaging her hips and offering counterpressure, her belly moving against me.
“Need to push… need to push… need to push…” She was repeating, almost in a trance. Even with her body covered in sweat and her hair sticking to her face, she was the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
“Do it love, push your baby out. We all believe in you. I know you can.” I told her, kissing her neck and shoulder, before she pressed her lips against mine.
We kissed for what felt like an eternity, before she moaned louder into my mouth, her body shook again, and she finally gave birth into my waiting hands, who started to cry. Mel supported and helped Anna sit down, and I gave her the baby she pushed out with so much effort and grace. She started to nurse, exhausted, but beaming. Motherhood suited her so well.
Miss Bekerley, trying to readjust her skirt, soaked through with her juices, cleared her throat.
“Good job Anna, and congratulations on your bundle of joy! That was… quite a presentation. How will you call her?”
She turned to look at Mel and I, smiling softly, before turning to our newborn daughter.
“Like you said… Joy.”
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some criticisms i have of episode 2. read the tags first please.
disclaimer: i am a targtowers’ stan first and foremost. that means: aegon, helaena, aemond and daeron. they’re my favorite characters. that’s where my ‘loyalty’ stands. everyone else (including alicent) comes after.
helaena’s grief should’ve been a bigger point in the episode. this is HER episode and aegon’s (i’m not complaining about him but her screentime was so low). everyone else, rhaenyra, alicent, yada yada is secondary.
alicent can light up candles for her enemy’s son but can’t even attend the funeral of her grandson 🙄 she doesn’t cry, curse the blacks, want to bathe in the blood of jaehaerys’ killers, or can even bring herself to say his name.
i love aegon’s performance. i love all of his grief manifested in rage and anger. he cries but he will kick everyone later. tom go get your emmy.
girl your daughter just lost a son and you want to talk about you fucking your bodyguard. i’m tired of her. helaena is with all right of ignoring her.
once upon a time there was a boy that loved horses 😭 jaehaerys my dear
a larys/aegon scene is all i could wish for. the cold mastery of secrets and torture combined with the unstoppable wrath of a wounded man. i need more of them.
i like how the funeral seems, by all accounts, normal but by helaena’s viewpoint everything is too much. the people claim for her showing support but it’s all noise. the carriage showing her little boy so that people know who to blame but it only reminds her more of what happened. he even looks like he’s sleeping.
tbh this scene shows how rhaenyra doesn’t fucking care about helaena and her children. the first thought she had when she heard of the news wasn’t to have compassion or empathy, but to do damage control and worry about her reputation.
lmao i don’t have a clue what daemon’s intentions and rationality is. he only cares about looking mighty and dangerous to other people even when he does dumb shit, then justifies it. he lives only for other people’s opinions but then everyone hates his ass lol. dilffailure.
also he’s the embodiment of living for a dick measuring contest he ends up losing. all of daemon’s behavior can be attributed to erectile dysfunction.
how the writers found time for an oc prostitute having a mommy kink scene with aemond but didn’t have more time for a longer scene with helaena and literally anyone is beyond me.
aemond talking about his regret for luke but not about the death of his nephew 💀 luke died like three years ago condal pls get over it. aemond would care more about jaehaerys than poor little luke.
some much needed baela character development. i love characters that are like the female version of their dad but then also fucking hate their dad lol
i liked the tidbits of the dragonseeds during the episode. i’d like some nettles too :) but i guess the only female and canonically black character is a little too much for this show amirite :)
of course daemon would never be able to bend to anyone he considers inferior, much less rhaenyra, who under any other circumstance would be seen as ‘lesser than him’. it reminds him of his failures. i’m glad we’re on the same page.
aegon never had a chance right? aegon was literally raised by hightowers in love with targaryens. he never would’ve been able to surpass viserys and rhaenyra in otto and alicent’s eyes. nothing he did could’ve changed that.
otto’s little laugh cost him a job lol. i’m sad we didn’t get his cats.
the focus on rhaenyra in the arryk/erryk fight is too much for me. once again, leave secondary characters have their moments instead of shoving r or a down my throat please. this is their especial moment, their last moment. rhaenyra being all 😨🧍🏼♀️ between their shots does nothing for the scene.
otto’s realization of his life’s work being flushed down the drain is so touching and painful in a way to me. he’s like tywin if he lived long enough to see cersei and tommen fuck everything up.
‘i have sinned’ ‘i do not wish to hear of it’ that’s peak cersei and tywin from that one scene when she confessed the incest.
daeron exists? yay. and once again i’m fucking tired of alicent not reacting to mention of daeron, not comforting helaena, bashing aemond, ignoring aegon. where’s the love for her children?
the scene of otto putting resting his face on his hands? chills. it should’ve lingered there. showcase otto’s regret? grief? idk. pity it just lasted half a second because we needed to see alicent once more.
from now on, alicent is cancelled for me. i don’t care anymore about her. any parent that leaves their child in distress to go fuck can eat shit. i gave that treatment to daemon in laena’s funeral and i’m giving it to her.
we have more sex scenes of alicent than we have of daemon and aegon combined. yet she’s the pious queen and they’re the lechers. condal please write accordingly.
how do i watch a show when i don’t care for the two main characters, because they’re cardboard cuts of women who don’t do anything? i don’t know.
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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — you owe me
minjeong's dorm, 12:12 am.
WARNINGS ; blood, mild violence, physical violence, god complex, slut shaming, victim blaming, victim complex (3.6k)
minjeong wasn't mediocre.
as soon as she could form thoughts, minjeong knew that she was worth something more.
yangsan was charming, in a sense. it was littered with people who knew each other, who would attend the same recitals, and talk about the same problems. soon enough, minjeong found herself walking by the same couple of faces daily, waving at the same people and thanking the same adults.
it was monotonous, and there was nothing more annoying than boredom.
minjeong had always wished that her parents had worked harder like she did. she wished that they would've put more effort into pleasing her, even if they would bend their backs to get her whatever she desired.
it wasn't so she could get rewarded for her efforts. it was because she deserved it. it was because she had always done everything right, because she was right.
she was kim minjeong. she needed the best in order to continue to be the best.
soon, she had outgrown yangsan.
minjeong had begged her parents to go to high school in seoul, despite living across the country. her brother, kim minseo, decided to stay behind, not wanting to restart the life he had built, to stay with his girlfriend.
at least, that was what minjeong had said to the girls.
she refused to show the truth, the hardships and tears that her parents went through as a young kim minjeong threatened to run away if she didn't get what she wanted. she refused to relive the berating of her younger brother as he tried to convince her that their parents would nearly go bankrupt if she kept asking for something beyond their reach, or how he decided to stay in yangsan to lessen the burden of taking care of funds (and how he dropped out to work a crappy job to help with the situation).
kim minjeong didn't care, because she always got what she deserved.
being in the capital of south korea was her right. being in one of the SKYS, being with the girl was her right.
kim minjeong would never settle for less.
y/n could hear the door rattling, the hinges shaking at every pound of yuri's fist.
her stomach churned, the thought of seeing her now ex-friend nearly making her sick. she had tagged along despite the gnawing in the back of her head, telling her that seeing minjeong was essentially a death sentence.
in her head, y/n assumed that everything would be fine. she assumed that it would hurt less than jimin, less than wonyoung.
she was wrong.
"unnie..." she clenched her eyes tightly, tugging on the back of yuri's sweater. "i changed my mind."
minjeong broke her, in a way.
it lingered like cheap, store-bought alcohol. it was a deep, unsettling feeling like her chest had been weighed down by something and she wasn't sure what. y/n didn't know what to think except why. why had minjeong - someone she loved so deeply - betrayed her like this?
kim minjeong was her best friend, her sister.
(and despite everything, she didn't want yuri to knock minjeong's tooth out.)
"minju-unnie, do something." y/n looked over to the older kim, face void of emotion. "jiwonnie?" she turned to the younger, finding her expression the exact same.
y/n couldn't help but sigh.
she had always wanted someone in her corner, especially growing up as an only child. y/n wanted someone who she loved unconditionally, and who loved her the same. sure, she had amazing parents, but she had always yearned for the connection that everyone seemed to have.
she could live without romantic love, like the winter could live without snow. but it was different when it came to friendship - to family.
everyone had someone they could call their family. wonyoung had hyunseo, her younger half-sister whom the older jang swore she would protect. yuri had minju (and jiwon by default) who, even though they weren't blood-related, had always spent her holidays with the kims. even jimin had aeri, the two more akin to sisters than friends up until recently.
y/n had minjeong. at least she thought she did.
the door creaked open, letting the warm air blow through the small crevice. minjeong popped her head out, glaring at yuri as her eyes adjusted to the corridor light.
y/n missed when minjeong's presence felt like family.
minjeong opened her mouth to speak, but as she glanced over at y/n, everything seemed to stop.
"y/n?"
jo yuri wasn't strong, not physically. but what minjeong lacked in bite, yuri compensated by tenfold.
she rammed the door wide open, using her entire body weight to send minjeong stumbling back, landing on her rear. yuri fell along with her, nearly landing beside her if it weren't for y/n suddenly holding her steady.
"that hurt like hell." yuri whined, ignoring minju rolling her eyes. the kim would have to scold her later.
"you could've just pushed the door open." jiwon scratched her cheek as the older girl rubbed her shoulder.
y/n looked at minjeong, watching as she looked between all of them. the older girl looked frightened, and it broke her heart to know that she was the cause of it.
"i didn't think about that."
she wondered if minjeong felt the same.
"y/n," the kim's eyes met hers. "she hurt me."
y/n could feel the pain bubbling in her chest. it hurt to see minjeong like this, and it hurt even more that she didn't want to help.
kim minjeong was a stranger.
"i'll do it again!" yuri tried to lunge forward, being held back by y/n as minjeong stood up.
the two were equally versed but y/n was afraid that yuri would end up biting a chunk out of minjeong given the circumstances.
y/n looked at her, hoping that her minjeong - the one she would talk to during her lowest points and the one who she ran to whenever anything happened - was still there.
she wasn't.
(or maybe, she never existed.)
"let's just go, unnie." y/n gripped yuri's shoulder lightly. the sinking in her chest was starting to get too overwhelming.
yuri didn't care, at least not right now. not when y/n seemed more torn up over minjeong than wonyoung (and it took minju convincing her for ten minutes straight to not jump the volleyball player).
minju stared at y/n, watching as tears started to form in her eyes. gently, she rested her hand on yuri's other shoulder, motioning to y/n. she could feel yuri relax.
hurting minjeong would hurt y/n more (for now. but if yuri ever got a chance...)
she turned to y/n, smiling softly. wordlessly, yuri nodded, and y/n finally felt the connection she had so desperately longed for.
y/n knew she would survive.
the girls turned to leave, and minjeong could see that her last chance was nearly out of her grasp. she couldn't let y/n go, not now, not ever.
minjeong whined like a toddler whose toy got taken away. "you're gonna leave me here?"
y/n stopped, looking down as guilt and anger began to wrack her body. jiwon looked at the older girl, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"unnie?"
"i didn't want to do it!" minjeong tried to reason, grasping at anything that would make y/n stay. "you have to believe me!"
yuri inhaled, fighting all the thoughts and urges to rip a clump of hair out of minjeong's (unfortunately) unscathed scalp. she'd find another time to jump the girl, hopefully soon.
y/n turned around, her cheeks wet from the stream of tears cascading down her face. "it didn't look like that."
"y/n." minju faced the girl, shaking her head. "don't talk to her."
"shut up, minju." minjeong snarled. this was her chance. she just needed y/n to listen. "i did it out of love. i knew if you saw how jimin would just fuck any girl then-"
y/n scoffed.
"what is it?" losing someone never got easier, but losing family seemed to hurt the worst. "did she make you fuck her? or did you do it to 'show' me?"
minjeong looked down, void of guilt as she tried to find any excuse to justify her actions. she knew she was in the right, especially since she did everything for y/n, for love.
love conquers all, even logic.
"tell me the truth." y/n could feel her voice starting to break. she could feel herself getting weighed down by the confusion. she could feel herself getting ripped to shreds. "tell me why."
minjeong couldn't help but love the way y/n looked in the dark. she loved how her cheeks flushed, and the way her voice cracked as she begged for her.
she wanted - needed - y/n, every teardrop, and every whine.
"i knew it." y/n ignored jiwon's attempts to get her out of the room, letting her emotions take the better of her. "i trusted you, minjeong. i trusted you with my life. i would've never done this to you... ever."
y/n prayed it was a lie. this couldn't be her minjeong, her best friend who she trusted fully with her life. she prayed that it was some sick joke, like all of this was a prank and a television crew would come out, shoving a camera in her face.
but it was too real. the pain felt too real.
"i don't understand." y/n let a sob slip out, and minjeong couldn't help but note the pain that was caused by her, for her. "i thought you were my best frien-"
y/n loved her. she had to.
"i love you." minjeong stood up, walking closer to y/n. "i loved you since the day i met you, since the day i knew that you were mine."
y/n looked at minjeong.
she could smell the cup noodles that lay empty on minjeong's desk. she could hear the soft hum of her laptop, churning the heat out of its system. she could feel the warm air basking around her, like a soft blanket.
but all y/n could feel was shock.
"...what?"
minjeong needed y/n. she needed to be y/n's everything - her pain, her sorrows, her love, her lust. she needed the pretty girl that you find on screen to be hers and only hers.
y/n was her reward, her trophy for being an outstanding person and and even better lover.
it was written in stone.
"i know you love me back, y/n." minjeong had never been more hopeful in her life. she knew that everything at this moment was because of everything she did right. "this hurts you because you love me back, right? because you and i are meant to be. i'm yours and you're mine."
y/n could feel her ears ringing.
"what the fuck..." yuri covered her mouth, looking at the kims, whose eyes were wide open.
"i've always treated you right. i've always done everything right." she did all the research, all the tips and tricks. she did it all for y/n. "i never said no to you, i let you be happy, i let you do whatever you want. i did everything right, right?"
y/n couldn't breathe.
she felt disgusted, almost violated. she had trusted minjeong with her life, and the entire time, the older girl had ulterior motives.
(and deep down, y/n knew that she was the reason why she had ended up with jimin in the first place.)
minjeong kept her gaze locked on the younger girl. she could feel her heart beating out of her chest.
y/n wanted to see her, despite having her heart broken by her. she chose to be near minjeong. it meant something. it had to.
"i'm sorry."
minjeong furrowed her eyebrows.
"i don't love you, minjeong."
minjeong had never been denied anything. she had gotten into all the SKYS, gotten all the scholarships, and gotten all the love from her parents.
it wasn't supposed to be like this.
"what?"
"i've never seen you that way, minjeong." minjeong shook her head furiously, refusing to believe the words coming out of y/n's mouth. "you were always just my friend, maybe a sister at most."
this wasn't right. this wasn't how it was supposed to play out.
"but i did everything you wanted!" she had sacrificed her time, her money. "i even let you fuck whoever you want!"
"she was never yours, minjeong." minju glared at minjeong.
"shut the hell up!" minjeong gritted her teeth. minju had no right to take away what was hers. "you're acting like your girlfriend doesn't fuck bitches on the side."
yuri's eyes widened, trailing over to minju. to her left, jiwon was expressionless.
"what?" chaewon had always hidden her phone until recently. even at the party, it looked like the older girl was actively avoiding someone. "chaewon wouldn't."
she trusted chaewon. minjeong had to be lying.
"ask jimin." minju could feel the air being sucked out of her lungs. "she has videos of everything chaewon does for her."
minju hated crying.
she hated getting her makeup ruined. she hated the way streaks would carve away parts of her foundation, and how her eyes would sting as her mascara mixed with her tears. she hated how weak and vulnerable she felt, like her mask had been stripped away and she was back to being that ten year old holding her sister as they both sobbed at the thought of their family being ripped apart.
minju never cried.
she never cried at her graduation, or her eighteenth birthday. she didn't cry when her grandma died. she didn't even cry when chaewon and her broke up.
but she cried when she found out her parents divorced.
"unnie?"
jiwon hadn't seen her sister cry in years.
"you fucking bitch!" y/n quickly grabbed yuri's waist, pulling her back as she tried to jump at minjeong. making one of them cry was pushing it, but two was too much.
minju couldn't stop the tears anymore. no matter how hard she tried to hold it back, all she could think of was chaewon, of how much she loved her and how much it hurt.
minju wiped her tears quickly, but nothing helped as she stared at her younger sister.
"ji" she was supposed to be stronger for her. "i'm sorry."
jiwon was at her limit.
she could forgive minjeong for leaving her at the party. in fact, she already did. jiwon forgave her, despite the fear she had when yujin and gaeul had left her and an extremely drunk rei alone. she could forgive minjeong for how she never checked up on her after, and how she pretended that jiwon didn't exist outside of the group.
she couldn't forgive this.
"it's not my fault chaewon's a whore." minjeong loved the rush of seeing someone so hurt. "minju's always liked girls she could never ge-"
jiwon was always the stronger kim.
a loud thud echoed through the room, and jiwon could feel her knuckle make contact with minjeong's cheekbone. the force of all the pent up anger (which honestly felt good to release) sent minjeong stumbling back, craddling her cheek.
yuri looked at the younger kim in shock.
"i... i didn't mean to!" jiwon panicked, looking at minjeong's now bleeding face. "i got angry. she, she left me by myself at that party. she made y/n-unnie upset. she's always looked down on me and yuri-unnie. unnie, she made you cry. i swear it was just by accident, i just-"
minju smiled, patting her younger sister's shoulder.
"jiwon. i love you, yeah?" jiwon took a deep breath, smiling awkwardly. "just calm down, okay?"
"okay." she nodded, looking at her now bruised hand. "are you gonna tell mom?"
"no, ji." minju shook her head. "i won't."
jiwon couldn't help but sigh in relief. "okay."
"y/n," minjeong whined again. the pain in her cheek was starting to spread across her face, and the cut was starting to bleed. "she hit me. aren't you gonna help me?"
"you can do it yourself." y/n sighed, not wanting to stay any longer.
she didn't know why she felt more worried about jiwon's hand than the cut on minjeong's cheek. all y/n knew was that she was tired of everything.
she just needed a break.
"that's not fair." minjeong didn't understand why y/n couldn't see it. "it's what i deserve after i treated you right."
"i didn't need you to treat me right." y/n didn't know how else to explain it. "i needed you to treat me like a friend."
"but i love you." minjeong loved the way y/n needed her. "i don't wanna be just your friend. it's not fair."
the world had always been filled with only yes's for minjeong, sakura being a fluke.
she didn't understand why it happened again.
"i don't owe you anything, minjeong."
minjeong frowned. "but you owe wonyoung something?"
maybe jimin was right. maybe the only person standing in the way of her and y/n was wonyoung. it was the girl who had everything, despite being nothing.
minjeong hated jang wonyoung.
"wonyoung has nothing to do with this." y/n said truthfully.
"you love her, don't you?" minjeong always lost to the bad guys. "even after she treated you like shit."
"wonyoung never treated me like shit." y/n countered. the argued at times, like couples always do, but wonyoung had always treated her like royalty. "we disagreed at times but-"
"but i never disagreed with you!" minjeong could feel the cut on her cheek move as she scrunched her face. "i said everything you wanted to hear!"
y/n wanted a lot of things.
"but it was never what i needed."
"you don't know what you need." minjeong reasoned, her cheek now swelling against her hand. "i'm what you need."
"jiwon," yuri looked at the younger kim, fresh cuts on her knuckle. "punch her again."
minju rolled her eyes, shaking her head as jiwon looked at her for permission. "don't."
"let's just go." y/n sighed. the longer they stayed, the more likely jiwon and yuri were gonna get arrested. "jiwon's gonna need to ice her hand."
jiwon looked at her hand and shrugged.
"it's okay! i feel great!" the younger kim smiled, flexing her hand. "i feel like i can jump from the roof right now, like superman."
"i would pay money to see that."
minju sighed. she was happy that yena didn't come, otherwise she was sure to egg yuri on and jiwon would most likely jump off the second-floor balcony.
"oh." a slurred voice entered the room as the smell of weed wafted from behind the girls. "hi?"
they turned around, coming face to face with someone unfamiliar.
her hair was bleached blonde, her body draped in expensive clothing. all of them could tell from her eyes that she was going to have no recollection of their meeting.
y/n had never seen someone so high out of their mind.
"sorry," minju bowed slightly. "we were just leaving."
they looked at each other, walking out quietly before the girl grabbed y/n's arm gently.
"wait." she squinted, y/n taking note of how bloodshot the girl's eyes were. "you're the girlfriend."
y/n looked around. "me and jimin aren't together anymore."
"jimin?" the girl didn't know jimin had a girlfriend. "i was talking about vicky?"
y/n didn't know of a vicky on campus. of course, she didn't know the majority of the people but she assumed that she would've at least heard of her.
sensing her confusion, the girl continued to speak.
"victory?" she let go of y/n's arm as the taller girl looked at her friends who all shrugged. "like vicky jang?"
"wonyoung?" y/n tilted her head.
wonyoung had never been given a title before, and a sense of pride seemed to burst through her chest and into her veins. they had talked about it frequently during first year, and how wonyoung wished she had a title like yoo 'the ace' jimin or hirai 'the machine' momo.
it had a nice ring to it. wonyoung 'vicky (victory)' jang.
the girl tapped her cheek, a blush spreading across her face. "you're saying she's single?"
y/n's face darkened at the thought of girls liking wonyoung. her stomach churned as she realized that wonyoung probably liked said girls back.
she shook her head. now wasn't the time to get jealous over someone that wasn't hers.
"it was nice to finally meet you." y/n said stiffly, frowning as she pushed the girls out. she ignored yuri's teasing stares and tried her best to disregard minjeong pleading her to stay.
the room fell quiet as y/n closed the door behind her.
"unnie? were those your friends?" slowly, the girl turned to minjeong. she gasped, nearly choking as her eyes adjusted to the sight of her face.
"what the hell happened to you?"
minjeong rolled her eyes, searching for something to stop the bleeding.
"do you need ice or something?" the girl asked.
"can you fuck off, yizhuo?"
"whatever." minjeong was in one of her moods again (and not the fun ones).
she placed herself in bed as minjeong rummaged for vaseline. if minjeong was gonna act snarky, then yizhuo could find a different way to entertain herself.
she was glad jimin stayed up so late.
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Now that the disappointment of the episode has cooled off, it can be said that this episode got a few desired points checked for team black ✅ :
- Rhaenyra got her fire back. She stopped whining and got the upper hand of the game by herself with the dragon seeds.
- Daemon finally concluded his main task at Harrenhal and got the army he wanted.
- Daemon concluded his haunted castle side quests by learning to reject the crown.
- Rhaena started to pursue her own dragon.
- Rhaenyra and Daemon are now finally at a stage when they can “finish their last conversation” and take kingslanding together.
It is what we have been waiting for. Then why did it feel so unsatisfying? Each of the bulletpoints in the checklist made me cringe instead of cheer.
Rhaenyra is finally showing that she can play this game. And win it. But where did it come from? Suddenly she is all fire, no mercy, I shall take what is mine through fire and blood. It seems too sudden and OOC.
Daemon got his army by being forced to slay his first ally and bend himself to the will of the new lord Tully. It is a win that feels like a defeat but a win nonetheless.
Daemon already knew that Viserys never wanted the crown, he saw with his own eyes what the weight of the crown did to him, by losing his wife and living a miserable life. It was nothing new but in the span of minutes he went from “I demand you all address me as king despite having no respect for me whatsoever” to: yeah no, maybe I don’t want to live your life after all, bro.
Jace discussed with Rhaenyra getting everyone with Targaryen blood to try the dragons to which she said: no, because their blood must be very diluted by now. But now he doesn’t want that anymore. He thought he was special but his brothers also had dragons. How special can he be? Jace, I love you, but you are smarter than this.
I wanted Rhaena to get Sheepstealer, there’s no denying it. But now that she is about to I feel like she is the most selfish character in the entire hotd. There’s 3 children there, unprotected, to cross the sea, with no one to speak for them when they arrive in Pentos and she is like: who cares about babies? I’m tired of being their mom so I’m out to go after my own dragon because that’s the only thing that defines me. I’m not a baby person and I wouldn’t like to play babysitter myself but even I would never be able to do it the way she did.
Aemond running away in fear with Vhagar was deeply satisfying though 🤭
But I wonder if Aemond was not the prince regent and instead someone more level-headed like Daeron was (in the book Daeron was my favourite from team green by far), if I would not shift loyalties towards the greens. Probably not but still.
The writing feels off. And it happened in season 1 too, during episode 10 both Daemon and Rhaenyra and even Jace had very weird behavior. Alicent went from loving Rhaenyra, to wanting to remain friends with Rhaenyra, to despising Rhaenyra for 10 years, to wanting to remove Luke’s eye in cold blood, to wanting to be friends with Rhaenyra again in ep8. It’s sad to watch 2 seasons and realise that you don’t know any of these characters, you don’t know what they are capable of or what to expect or when they will suddenly shift. And some people may like it that way but I do not.
That being said and aside from my negative initial reaction, the episode had some cool scenes.
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A little relief
Smut, 18+, power dynamics, Miyeon is a bit dumb, Shuhua is quite rude, eating pussy from behind, mentions of anal sex, spitting, if you squint you'll see a lil bit of a hunting kink, writer! Shu, manager! Miyeon, etc etc.
Just a little something cus these two are making me go insane
Requests are open!!! <3
Shuhua was stressed. Obviously.
Miyeon thought, as she cleaned the shattered glass from the beautiful marble floor, that it was easier to make gold pour down from the sky than to find the writer in a good mood.
Three months since she was working as Yeh Shuhua's manager. Three months of fits, tantrums and everything in between those. It's too cold? Too hot? Are there too many people breathing around her? Well let's make it everyone's problem now.
She was a force to be reckon, but nothing that the beautiful and charismatic Cho Miyeon couldn't deal with. Always apologizing and taking care of her boss enough for her to at least let her demons out only at the privacy of their home, since Shuhua required for the other woman to live with her for a more effective job.
Miyeon learned how to deal with her in no time, because besides being quite insane, Shuhua was very, very honest about everything.
She was at the kitchen when she heard a loud squeal, followed by the door being shut. Miyeon took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was coming next.
She knocked three times. Being used to Shuhua ignoring her, she just opened the door to see the younger woman typing frantically at her laptop.
"Is there anything I could do to help?" Shuhua didn't spare a glance at her, still typing. She just nodded, defeated. "I guess I'll just pick these up then" She started to clean the scattered paper, bending to pick the ones from under the writer's bed.
Finally Shuhua looked away from the screen when she heard her little whimpers of frustration trying to get the papers from under the bed, groaning when she saw Miyeon's ass in the air.
"Fucking hell" She mumbled, still looking. "Miyeon, get out of my room" She said, clearing her throat. The older woman sat up on the floor, looking too innocent with that small pout on her lips.
"Whyyyy?" She whined. "I am trying to help you and you won't let me!" More whining.
"God, you are so pretty it's fucking distracting" She scratched her forehead, her panties getting increasingly more wet.
"Wha-what?" She tried to understand, her doe eyes making Shuhua a little bit angry.
"Pretty and slow in the head" She shook hers. "Out. Now"
Miyeon just stood up and got out, still trying to understand what was with the taiwanese woman.
Shuhua immediately lowered her hand down on her sweatpants and then panties, touching herself over it, trying to defuse that desire with her own fingers.
She knew she wasn't the easiest person ever to deal with, but to be fair she was so horny since her dating ban that she was feeling herself loosing her mind over it. And well, she only got banned from the dating world because besides fucking too many women, she was not the most careful person ever so there was a lot of gossip going around. One more and her contract with the publishing company was gone.
She came quickly, but to none's surprise, she was still tense and even more annoyed. She got up to the kitchen to get herself some water and some chocolate. And, of course, her manager was there to make matters worse.
"Are you feeling better?" She smiled, trying to be more friendly. "Sit down a little, you cheeks are bright red" She got closer, touching shuhua's forehead. "I don't think is a fever, but I can go buy some medicine if you'd like" Her big brown eyes had this glint, this unsettling naiveness that pissed her boss off.
"You are very touchy" Shuhua stepped back.
"Because I am trying to please you, boss, but you won't let me" She pouted and Shuhua scoffed, thinking about the irony in that sentence. "How can I help you?"
"Maybe if you shut up it will help" She said, leaning on the counter to drink her water.
"You are so mean!" Miyeon said, huffing. "No wonder your previous manager quit" She said before her mind even processed what she said. "Boss, I-" She started to say, but she got taken aback by Shuhua's laughter.
"Is that what the company said when they sent you?" She laughed even harder. "Those fuckers are really trying to cover for me" She shook her head.
"What? That's not true?"
"Not one bit" Shuhua's brown hair was down, she sure looked like something out of this world. Too pretty for Miyeon's health.
"So what happened?" She asked. "And I'm only asking because you seem to be incapable of lying" She shook her eyebrows.
"They found out I was fucking her" She said, slightly raising her shoulders.
Miyeon's smile dropped. She certainly wasn't expecting that.
"B-but your previous manager was a woman..."
"Seriously, you are very, very slow" Shuhua bluntly said. "That's why they sent you, a straight girl, to be my new manager" She huffed as if that was the end of the world for her.
Miyeon was silent for a bit, still shocked. She blinked a few times, shifting on her seat.
"Who told them I was straight?" She tilted her head, asking herself that. "Honestly, that's a little disappointing" She was looking down, that little dumb look on her face. "Not that I have anything against straight people, but look at me!" She laughed.
'Well, that changes the fucking game' Shuhua thought.
"I am" She said lowly, clicking her tongue and taking a deep breath. Too many dirty thoughts going through her mind at the same time. "You still wanna help me?" Her voice was like honey now, trying her best to attract her prey.
"Of course, boss" She smiled, still not picking what Shuhua was implying.
"You sure?" Shuhua stepped closer, both hands on her sweatpants pockets. "What if I ask you for a personal favor?" She lowered herself to match Miyeon's eye level, smirking.
"Like...?" She was starting to understand, gulping at the thought.
"You know I need to write a hundred pages in five days, right?" The blonde nodded. "And I can't write because I am so horny it's nerve wrecking, Miyeon..."
Miyeon was shocked by those words coming out of her bosses mouth. Of course she knew she was very straightforward but not on that level.
"Look at me" Miyeon's gaze was on the floor but she obeyed. Shuhua inhaled her perfume, closing her eyes. "I was trying so hard to behave because I thought you were just a pretty straight girl but for fuck's sake..." She opened her eyes, her gaze dark and hungry, her voice sultry like nothing Miyeon has ever heard in her life. "Working around you is too fucking distracting" They were staring at each other's lips, their noses almost touching.
"We can't" the blonde whispered. "I'll lose my job if they find out" Shuhua smirked.
"You and me both" She said. "Let's be careful and they won't suspect a thing, love" Her left hand gently held Miyeon's chin. "Let me eat you out, Miyeon" They brushed their lips together. "I need to feel you coming on my tongue"
That was it, the last straw.
Miyeon basically jumped from her seat, kissing Shuhua hungrily, moaning at the other's lips, but she didn't even try to pretend she would fight for dominance, already letting the other take advantage of her open mouth. Their bodies were flushed together, basically humping each other with the aggressiveness of that searing kiss.
"Fuck" Miyeon cursed, shutting her eyes when the other licked and bit at her neck, almost falling to her knees.
Without saying anything and quite swiftly, Shuhua swirled the blonde girl, pressing her front against the marble counter of her kitchen, biting her earlobe and gaining a loud moanin return.
They were both on fire, Shuhua's pussy was already wet because of earlier but now was even worse. Miyeon wasn't far behind, feeling her pussy clench around nothing, aching inside her panties.
Shuhua pulled the other one's shorts and panties, throwing them somewhere else behind her, looking at her ass from behind.
"Oh, I'll enjoy fucking this tight ass " She mumbled and Miyeon moaned, gripping at the counter when Shuhua landed a harsh slap at her ass, pulling her hair from behind. "But right now I need to get off, so be a pretty slut for me and let me do this"
Their bodies were away only enough for her to pull her own pants and underwear down, her hands already gripping Miyeon's waist, hissing at the contact of her drenched pussy on the blonde's ass.
"Fuck, fuck" She said, humping the other's ass, almost falling from the contact itself. Her clit was red and throbbing so hard it was insane she could even hold herself up at that point. "My dumb baby, fuck" She continued humping, smearing wetness all over the other, marking her new territory.
Miyeon was quick to pick up the other one's pace, a strangled moan ripping through her throat. That rocking motion was enough to make her body shiver in pleasure, her own clit getting some action while Shuhua humped her from behind, pulling at her waist with a strong hold.
"I'll fuck this tight pussy with the biggest dildo I find- fuck" She groaned through her teeth, licking Miyeon's shoulder and sinking her teeth at it.
"I'll take anything you give me" She said, shakily, her cunt pulsing with need. That sentence made Shuhua's mind go blank, her mouth agape, her eyes screwed shut when she thought about the many possibilities ahead.
"Oh my-" She couldn't even finish her sentence, already coming so hard she basically went deaf for a few seconds, mindlessly humping Miyeon, who took it like the good girl she was.
She kept that grinding for a few minutes, hugging Miyeon's waist so hard that made her laugh a little.
"I am not running away, boss" She said, shaking in pleasure.
"If you run I'll catch you and fuck you anyway" Shuhua said darkly, kissing Miyeon's neck and shoulder, making her moan when she circled her entrance with her middle finger. "But I am sure you won't even think of it when I'm done with you" She tapped her clit with two fingers, going down on her knees afterwards.
She licked Miyeon's butt cheek, where it was glistening with own juices, tasting herself and moaning at it. Grabbing her ass with both hands, spreading it.
"Boss, I didn't shave-" Miyeon cried out, embarrassed.
"Did I ask you that?" Shuhua said, slapping hard at the other's ass.
"N-no" She moaned, feeling herself get even wetter.
"Shut the fuck up then" She growled.
Shuhuas spat at her hole, watching as it trickled down all the way to her glistening entrance, mesmerized. Without a warning she positioned her face between Miyeon's cheeks, making her scream with her hot wet tongue at her pussy.
Eating pussy from behind was her favorite thing because it was messy, allowing her to fuck and tease both holes, always making girls go crazy asking for more.
"Oh my fucking god" Miyeon tried really hard to hold the counter with both hands, but Shuhuas relentless tongue on her entrance made her hold the other's head between her legs. "Boss, boss, my fucking-"
She was whining and Shuhua humming in pleasure, putting all of her effort into making the other woman cum on her tongue; with one arm under miyeons thighs, and her other hand thumbing her clit, she pushed her tongue inside her pussy, drinking her juices and brushing slightly at her other hole.
The older woman was no virgin, but she would be lying if she said anybody had ever fucked her like that. She was not only seeing stars, she was seeing the whole universe while shuhuas tongue fucked her entrance like that, her eyes rolling to the back o her head, grinding as she could.
Miyeon was screaming loudly, her legs shaky, her clit throbbing and fuck, so wet... She couldn't hold anymore, her orgasm heavenly, out of this world.
She wasn't the one to get overstimulated, but Shuhua kept tonguing her slit, licking up and down it was almost unbearable.
"St-stop, please" She tried to push, but Shuhua held both of her arms, her eyes closed while she kept her ministrations. Miyeon groaned, pained, but that side of her boss was always there and she definitely liked it.
Shuhua let go of her pussy with a loud 'pop', still holding the blonde's arms behind her back. She got up, kissing her shoulder, neck, jaw and then her lips with a lot of tongue and saliva.
"Are you going to run away?" Shuhua held her arms tighter, making the other moan, a naughty smile on her lips.
"Only if you catch me to do this again" Shuhua bit her jaw, making her wince in pain. Good pain, of course.
"Slut" She said, her grip still strong on the other's arms. "I have so many plans for you, angel. I'll have so much fun..." They were getting horny again.
"I already told you, boss" She whimpered. "I'll take anything you give me..."
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Over the Falls Ch. 4
Sexy Banner & bar by @borabae-gx
Summary: Jungkook sees a lot of things as a pool tech. It’s… fine. It pays the bills between mornings on the water and evenings rocking out with his garage-band. His favorite thing to see on the job has been Grace Birch –older but a hottie, wealthy but nice, and unfortunately very married. At least until Grace learns what her husband has been up to behind her back. Now that she’s free, Jungkook finds himself wondering: what does it take for a guy like him to catch the eye of a woman like that?
Genre: Poolboy Jungkook x Rich Divorcee OC
Tags: Age gap (older woman), socioeconomic gap, Surferboy JK, drummer/guitarist/vocalist JK, Wealthy divorcee OC, househusband
CW: Mature/Explicit, Infidelity (not between JKxOC), language, alcohol, recreational drugs, lots of explicit sex, ageist/racist/classist remarks down the road, outdoor sex, beach sex
Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five
“It was a shitshow, is what it was,” Megan insisted, arms out as she picked her way through the tangled overgrowth of the front yard. In heels, mind you, with tight jeans that made it difficult to bend her legs so that she kind of waddled and teetered as she trailed after Grace around the wild beds and weed-devoured gravel path.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“The toilets overfloweth,” Megan insisted, hands gesturing to demonstrate just how badly the bathroom had been destroyed. “Of course no one wants to admit it was them but someone brought the chicken casserole–”
“And you’re sure it was the chicken casserole?”
“Using my excellent detective skills–”
“That’s true, why would I doubt you?” Grace laughed. She stopped on the gray stone porch –cracked, chipped, and laced with mildew– and surveyed the yard.
“It was everyone who ate the chicken casserole crapping their brains out,” Megan said, pulling herself up the steps. “But who made the casserole? No one in that set of people makes casseroles. I’m telling you, someone used rancid chicken.”
“You think it was on purpose?”
“I mean, it didn’t make Nancy look good to have a dozen people head to the ER with bubble-guts,” Megan said, eyebrows raised and lips twisted to the side like she knew what her opinion of it was. Who has it out for Nancy? The answer for any of them was most likely depends on the day. “But I suppose it could have been someone stupid. Decided to cook instead of letting their chef handle it and doesn’t want to admit it now.”
“I can’t believe Nancy did a potluck,” Grace admitted.
“Oh she’s living in deep shame right now. Trish and Eugenia goaded her into her after someone… maybe me… suggested potlucks are trendy now.”
“You didn’t,” Grace laughed. Megan cackled shamelessly.
“Well they can stop talking shit about me or I’m going to set them up like that! I said they’re all the rage now and we’re getting laughed at for being so outdated on the West Coast.”
“Why would Nancy care?”
“Oh some stuffy asshole from Georgia was going to be there, I don’t even remember his name, so I may have positioned myself as an expert on Georgia…”
“You’re from Georgia.”
“Sure, but not Georgia money,” Megan reminded her. “I’m from Georgia upper middle class. And I’m stretching that upper. We did potlucks at church but never when we hosted. Who would do that? You run the risk of someone bringing a rancid chicken casserole.”
“You don’t think it was Nancy herself– no, she wouldn’t cook for her own dinner,” Grace quickly corrected.
“No, I think it was someone else trying to be on theme. Instead they inspired their own theme…”
“You didn’t get sick,” Grace guessed based on Megan’s laughter about the whole thing.
“Lord no, I didn’t touch that casserole. I knew it would only disappoint me. Kind of like this house.”
Grace gave her a bemused smile and led her through the front door with the set of keys she’d picked up from the owners earlier. Megan’s tale of the failed dinner party had woven through their examination around the exterior of the property: overgrown, cluttered with potted plants, a slimy green and frog-infested pool, a garage door that no no one could find the clicker to. The patio furniture had all turned green with mildew, the iron frames rusted.
“Woah, it’s squat,” Megan said, ducking her head in the entry way as though the ceiling wasn’t a full ten feet.
“It just feels that way because they painted the ceilings dark,” Grace explained. The entryway had a closet dead ahead too, making the space feel small. Two doors crowded them on the left, too, and so many doors right when you entered made a house feel like a maze. If you ripped off the closet door and turned it into a proper entryway, it would feel better. Maybe one of the doors to the left too. Shockingly, when she opened one it had dark carpeted stairs to the second floor.
“Why’d they do that? That’s creepy to put a door there.”
“People do lots of things to their houses,” Grace shrugged. “I always think it’s interesting. Maybe they were trying to cut down on A/C costs?”
“You must see some weird things.”
“I do. And it’s my job to paint those over so that the next person can envision a blank canvas to make their own personal type of weird,” she mused. She made notes as they wandered through the living room to the right –one of two family spaces. Big picturesque windows facing that overgrown front yard made the living room feel hidden and secluded –not a corner lot in a lively neighborhood and only several blocks from the beach and businesses.
“There’s so much stuff…”
Grace nodded, recalling what she knew. The house was built in 1952 and bought by the most recent owners in the 80s, only two owners in all that time which was remarkable for California. The husband had just passed and now the children wanted the place cleared out and sold to support the mother, who was in her eighties and moving in with one of her grown children. Grace glanced at the portraits mounted on the wall –far too many, so the walls felt like they were ready to erupt– that showed forty years of life in this place.
“It’s really not in terrible shape though,” Grace corrected the easy judgment someone like Megan would make at first glance. “It needs to be cleared out, it needs paint, but the structure is good. I’d rip the carpet out and replace it with wood or tile. Paint everything, of course. Replace the appliances, though we may be able to clean these up enough to sell,” she considered, looking at her notes about updates and replacements as they wandered through the kitchen.The wood cabinets were dated by their oak finish but in good shape, the hinges squeak-free and sturdy as she swung a few open.
“Oh, that’s kinda nice,” Megan gasped, rushing forward to open the French doors. Four double-doorways fanned out from the breakfast room: one back to the rooms on the ground floor, one to a back staircase to the second floor, one to an open-air dining room and the third to the patio before the pool. It created a very open, airy space when all the doors were open, as if the yard was part of the house. Right now it was in bad shape but when cleaned up, that would be beautiful. Also the doors needed to go on half the doorways, it must have been an A/C issue which made her think the place must get really warm during the summer.
“The carpet on the stairs needs replacing,” Megan pointed out as she led Grace up, as if she was the one on the job here.
“Trying to take my job?” Grace laughed.
“I see why you like this, it’s kinda fun. Like if you painted all these walls white, this feels like a resort up here with all these windows and the view of the yard.” The master bedroom and its massive his-and-hers bathroom and walk-in closet dominated by the back of the house. A walk-out balcony had creaky doors clearly not used for some time and Grace recalled that she’d been told the couple couldn’t enjoy the yard for the past several years. The children didn’t seem to have realized how badly their health was until the father died. She only got glimpses into the lives of the people whose houses she sold, and it was often a mixture of curiosity and tragedy.
“A built-in desk and shelves in the bedroom? That’s strange,” Megan decided, inspecting the furniture that did indeed seem built into the wall.
“I think it’s kind of neat,” Grace admitted, passing to peek in the closet. Musty and smelling of dust and mothballs but huge.
“Damn, how many bedrooms does this place have?” Megan asked as they toured through others, all significantly smaller than the master but with decent enough space. One was an office, one a dusty old sewing room with tubs of fabrics against the walls, one a guest room with a sagging mattress and dated bedding.
“Four bedrooms,” Grace read from her sheet. “Three full baths. 3,450 square feet.”
“How much do you think they’ll get for it?”
Grace was flattered for Megan to ask her that, like she was such a pro she could just name it after this initial walkthrough. She checked doorways and vents and windows as they wandered, noting damage, searching for crucial flaws but finding nothing but superficial needs. The couple seemed to have put their money into the important things over the years –the electrical and plumbing were all relatively new, the roof was brand new, the fireplace in the living room unnecessary for most people somewhere as warm as California but apparently they’d burned wood and kept it well tended until the end.
“Hm… depends if they want to do some remodeling before they sell, or sell as is,” Grace said. She did her best to sound more confident than she necessarily was, a skill instilled in her young. Except she did know quite a bit about this! “Maybe four, four and a half if they do… I’d guess three and a half if they don’t. The beach is close, the school district is good.”
“Damn.”
“The issue is just who we target. The dated decor won’t appeal to young people, but older folks are less likely to buy this near the beach. It’s got both a den and a family room, two bedrooms downstairs, the master and the second upstairs… It’s a lot of space for an older couple, really more for a family.”
She wandered again, seeing in her mind’s eye the changes she would make here and there if it was hers. Different paint here. Wallpaper there. Replace the carpet in the bedrooms and upstairs hallway, trade with wood or stone downstairs. Foam’s tree would have a great view of the garden from that corner…
“The yard is a mess,” Megan rattled off, peeking through the windows again. “That pool looks like a swamp.”
“It does.”
“And all this stuff. How do you clean out a place like this?”
“Well, I’d recommend to the family that they go through and remove everything they want to keep, then we do an estate sale. You’d be surprised how quickly they can clear out a house. After that is when I would usually stage the house and take the listing photos.”
“After they’ve had time to fix everything up nice?”
Grace nodded absent-mindedly as she crouched to look up the fireplace. She was no expert, it would need to be checked, but the fact they had been burning through the winter was a good sign, hopefully it didn’t need more than a cleaning. There ought to be glass doors installed though so they weren’t losing their cool air in the summer.
“It’s hard to see through all the stuff,” Megan insisted, but Grace didn’t agree at all. She could see the potential. The big windows and wide doorways created such a nice flow. They blocked it off with odd furniture choices and misplaced wall decorations –too much here, not enough there to guide the eye. It was just superficial, the stuff that needed to be done.
Grace could do that.
Grace wanted to do that.
She wanted someplace that was a good investment, worth the money, but that she could sink her teeth into and really make her own.
She wanted some place that didn’t look at all like the home she’d built before, the one Tim destroyed.
Megan was mid-sentence criticizing the dated light fixtures when Grace touched her arm and interrupted, “I think I’m going to buy this house.”
“Hm? You’re selling this house.”
“To myself. I mean, I’ll have to have another agent take over the selling because it would be a major conflict of interests but–”
“Wait you really want to buy this place?” Megan asked. She looked around with disbelief. “But… it’s kind of a wreck.”
“Only visually.”
“Yeah…”
“I mean superficially. It’s in good shape, it’s just ugly, but the potential…”
“Do you really want a project like this though?”
“I do,” Grace insisted, feeling more sure of her answer. It would be work, but work of her choosing. Work to create a home exactly the way she wanted. Looking around, she already felt a sense of ownership welling up. She liked seeing what the house looked like now, knowing its past before they started their new life together. A rebirth for them both.
“I just think you’ve dealt with enough problems this year. Do you even know how to do this kind of stuff? Painting, carpeting, those ugly lights– I mean, the pool is a bog. I saw actual frogs. Are we sure it’s not actually a koi pond gone feral?”
“I know a guy,” Grace said without much thought behind it. She meant it as a joke, that any professional could handle any of the specific issues that felt beyond her limited skill set. She hadn’t meant JK specifically –though he could handle frogs and probably get that pool looking nice. The last thing she wanted was to remind Megan of the suggestion she’d made immediately after Grace confessed about the divorce…
Quickly Grace added, “I’ll hire the help I need for the big stuff. Everything else will be fun.”
“If you say so…” Megan said. She sounded critical but also amused. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve already surprised me, maybe you’ll surprise me again.”
“What surprised you?” Grace asked, head tilting curiously.
“You left that saggy ballsack husband! Maybe you’ll surprise me with your speckling skills too.”
“Speckling?”
“Isn’t that what it’s called?”
“What what’s called?”
“You know, hm… that house repair thing.. Look I don’t know what I’m talking about, I just have house shows on in the background sometimes.”
“Spackling?” Grace guessed and Megan just shrugged. “That’s fixing holes in walls.”
“Can you do that?”
“Sure,” Grace said with gusto, despite having never done it in her life. It couldn’t be harder than getting a divorce from Tim, so hell yeah!
“Well congratulations then. Why don’t you have me over once it’s all cleared out and I’ll act surprised. I’ll forget I saw its unsavory past,” Megan laughed as they headed for the door. Grace couldn’t have felt more different: she wouldn’t forget the house’s past. Years from now, assuming it all went through, once she got the house the way she wanted it, she and this house could look back on how far they’d come.
“Ok, it’s a date,” Grace agreed. “Let’s head out, I’ve got to let the family know they need a new agent.”
“You’re just going to dump them? Damn girl, you’re really cleaning house–”
“No! I’ll just explain I’m interested and that they need new representation. I’ll even recommend someone I know will be good for them.”
“You know a guy, huh?”
“I do, yes.”
“You know a lot of guys,” Megan prodded as Grace locked up the house.
“What do you mean by that?” Grace asked. Even though she knew.
“Just pointing it out. Don’t want you getting any clutter or cobwebs you need to clean out if you go too long–”
“Megan Eldridge!”
“I’m just saying! As your friend!”
“Is that all you’ve got on your mind?” Grace teased. “Adam’s away again, hm?”
“No, but I swear, these hormones are making me batty,” Megan sighed, hand reflexively resting against her leg, as if to protect it from even a verbal mention. She’d shown Grace the bruises the fertility shots left, physical proof of how dedicated Megan was for a child after she and her husband had put it off for years. “Now or never,” Megan had said, tapping her wrist as if her forty-three years were recorded on her watch.
That’s sort of how Grace felt about starting her life over. She felt late. She hadn’t been on her own since she was barely an adult and now had to figure everything out all on her own. She could recognize she was putting unfair pressure on herself to “catch up” after her whole life got upended, and yet she was eager to settle into her new normal. Foam and her were a close, happy little family already, but the apartment still felt so temporary. It felt like she still lived in the shadow of Tim, in the wreckage of their marriage. She was ready to emerge, no more dragging her feet. Maybe it wasn’t now or never, but it was time.
“How long do you think it’ll take you to get this place fixed up?” Megan asked. She didn’t check behind her very long before backing out of the driveway and Grace resisted the urge to point it out.
“I don’t know. A year? I have to actually buy it first.”
“That’s too long before you can host again.”
“I’m not in a rush to host anything.”
“You should be. I can’t wait to watch you make this place beautiful and rub it in everyone’s faces,” Megan grinned. Her quick reversal from criticism of the house to blind support for Grace’s ability to make this something beautiful was noted and appreciated.
“Let’s plan on a baby shower instead,” Grace suggested. “I think that’s nicer than petty revenge for gossip.”
Megan sighed loudly, “You’ve really got to work on your mean-streak. It’s painfully under-developed.”
Jungkook floated on the board, letting the waves scoop him like a tired child getting carried to bed. Max made him think of that. How badly he had envied Max at Mo’s memorial service when the little boy fell asleep stretched out in the corner despite the stifled sobs and loud music ushering from the best speakers Jungkook owned. Mo had been an incredible musician, far more talented at guitar than Jungkook could ever hope to be. His voice was a lie, sounding so alive as it wrapped around the room, and for the length of an album the guy behind the voice was alive and Jungkook was hearing the album for the first time and simultaneously understanding what he wanted to do with his life and what he could never hope to compete with.
Then the album ended, the memorial ended, Yoojin scooped up sleeping Max to carry him home, and the world was a little cold again. Cold for April, at least.
At the beach, Jungkook could draw the warmth back into his skin, even early in the morning. He hadn’t slept well after all that, even once Jimin pounded on the wall for him to stop strumming his unplugged guitar, so it hadn’t been hard to drag his ass to the beach this morning. The sky was overcast though. Fitting, all things considered.
Bobbing on the water wasn’t a good idea. It gave Jungkook too much time to think things he didn’t want to think. It was hard enough to float through the memorial, he couldn’t hold on longer than that. It would drag him down. There was too much anguish there for everyone, and none of them knew what to do about it even years later. He sure didn’t know how to fix it for anyone though he was doing his damned best, trying, failing.
If the roles were reversed, Mo would probably have known what to do.
Jungkook dashed at the salt crusting on his eyelashes and leapt up at the next wave. Manhattan Beach was starting to crowd up, and it annoyed him to have to navigate so many other surfers as he paddled back out once the dumped him unceremoniously on the sand. He watched Seokjin get a good one going only to have to bail as a fucking jake cut across his path.
Jungkook shouted angrily on Seokjin’s behalf until his head broke the surface and he could shout himself, but the asshat had already flown off down the beach. Not someone Jungkook recognized, maybe a barney.
Jungkook shook his head. His frustration on Seokjin’s behalf made him reckless. He took the next wave but it was a poor shot, he realized too late. The wave broke too soon and he failed to pull off the aerial that could have landed him gracefully back on the surface. Instead the board clipped and shot him forward, then jetted narrowly over his head through the water as the surf tumbled him down down down. That had been the hardest part about learning to surf, at least Jungkook thought so. Learning not to panic as the water pushed you down, knowing it would pass in a moment. Hopefully.
Well, sometimes it didn’t pass. Some people never could get out.
Jungkook kicked off the bottom and paddled to the top, breaking through an easy smooth surface. The wave had passed. He lifted his feet to grab hold of the board tether and decided to call it a day. He wasn’t having fun, his head was a mess, and he didn’t want to disrespect the ocean by not being present when he rode it. He began to paddle to shore–
“JUNG–!!” was all he heard before something sharp and hard slammed into his shoulder. The shocking pain of it had him swallowing a mouthful of water as the force knocked him from his board. For a moment he just hung in the balance, scooped by the water, mind a dark void around the sharp pain.
Burning lungs made his body move on its own, struggling to the surface –or maybe it was the relentless tug of his board’s cord. He drew in a chest full of air just as Seokjin grabbed his arm.
“Fuck!”
“FUCKER!” Seokjin shouted and finally Jungkook could process that a surfer had hit him. He dragged himself half across his board and let Seokjin push him closer to shore. “You ok? Where’d it get you– ah, shit, I see the blood.”
Jungkook craned his neck to look. All things considered, it could have been worse. Nothing broken, not even a massive gash, though the salt water burned the broken skin on his shoulder like shit. His neck hurt from the whiplash but that was better than the other thing. A direct hit there or on his head could have paralyzed him. Killed him.
“I’m ok,” Jungkook said, willing it to be true. “Just knocked me over.”
He stumbled as they got to the shallower water, the churn around his ankles trying to drag him back out, until he could sit heavily on the sand.
Embarrassingly, the lifeguard sprinted full speed over like this was a fucking Baywatch rerun. He sent sand spraying everywhere, nervous as though he’d never seen a collision before.
“You didn’t have to haul him out?” he demanded of Seokjin. He set the first aid bag down and leaned close to Jungkook’s shoulder.
Jungkook waved him away and groused, “I’m fine. Just stupid… I should have been watching better…”
“These assholes are all over the place this morning,” Seokjin complained. “I saw the whole thing. The tourist wasn’t watching and turned toward you too fast.”
Jungkook endured the poking and prodding as Seokjin and the lifeguard looked him over. He stretched and squeezed higher up and further down his arm, checking for anything that felt dangerous. Now that he was free of the water though, he realized it really had gone as well as it could; other than the bruise and cut, it didn’t seem any major damage was done. He promised to think about swinging by Urgent Care, just in case.
“Don’t think you’re going to be drumming for a few days,” Seokjin admitted as Jungkook successfully chased the lifeguard off to go harass the reckless surfers instead.
“Yeah but I gotta work,” Jungkook sighed. He glanced at his shoulder again. Seokjin was right. He should get some ice and take it easy, and maybe he’d only be out of commission for a few days. At least it was his left hand but damn, of all mornings. “It’s fine though. I’m fine.” He said it again, willing his insides to stop churning. Surf accidents were scary, and the fear always lingered. He was definitely done for the day now. Probably a few days.
“Here, I’ll get your board– need me to call Tae or Jimin?” Seokjin offered. His straight-forward concern told Jungkook just how scary it must have looked from the shore. His own knees knocked as he stood but after wiggling and stretching to get a sense of his body, he felt more confident it was just the post-accident adrenaline rush. His shoulder was going to look gnarly with that bruise, but today had not been his last day.
Fuck, that would have been terrible timing.
“Nah, I’m good to drive.”
“You’re sure?” Seokjin pressed. By now some of the other locals Jungkook knew were trying to crowd around too. Someone grabbed his stuff, someone else hauled his board for him. It was mortifying, and Jungkook was red-faced by the time he’d been escorted the block away to his car. Seokjin was most reluctant of all to let him drive off but in the end Jungkook seemed outwardly chill and made the right jokes to convince him everything was fine.
He made it home before the shocked tears escaped. It was just the adrenaline leaving, that was it. He blamed it all on that as he showered the salt and sweat from his skin, and inspected his throbbing shoulder in the mirror, and did his best to bandage it. No one else was home, and the last thing he wanted to do was freak his family out asking for help.
At times like this it was hard not to long for the kind of companionship he pretended not to care about. Not sex, not a drinking buddy, not someone to go places with, but a person to rely on, to reach for, to help. Someone who he could lean against for the brief moments where his cool guy image slipped and he felt too fucking much. Someone who could tap his hand to get him to drop the bandage and do it for him because contorting to try and get it on hurt his ribs and stomach. There wasn’t damage there, not that he could feel anyway, just a shock to his body from the rough hit.
He’d be really, really fucking lucky. Maybe Mo keeping an eye on him this moment. Mo, who’d finally relented and let Jungkook tag along when he’d started to surf first.
It wasn’t helped when he left his room to find Jimin and Hoseok making out in the kitchen, half undressed already.
“Fuck, sorry!” Jimin laughed, looking only a little embarrassed. Hoseok’s face turned red and he hid it in Jimin’s shoulder.
“I thought no one was home. You’re lucky I didn’t walk out naked.”
“Are we lucky?” Hoseok joked, then waved his hands at Jimin’s glare. “It’s a joke.”
“We just got home. I bought my boyfriend coffee like a good boyfriend but…”
That kind of thing. Companionship. Jungkook decided not to give them shit about getting frisky –they weren’t actually violating the no-fucking-in-common-spaces rule. Yet.
“Isn’t it too early for that kind of thing?” Jungkook joked. His heart wasn’t in the joke but they teased him about just waking up –even though he’d been up for hours– and he waved it off and left without an explanation of where he was going. The answer wasn’t exciting: work. Time to get back to it after his thrilling day off yesterday.
His phone chirped just before he pulled away from the curb, Yoongi asking about band practice tonight. Taro responded immediately, suggesting six and reminding them that they had another show at Flowerfest in a few weeks and needed to figure out a set list and replace the amp that blew out at their last show. As if they were all just swimming in money to replace an amp. Jungkook was hoping Yoongi could filch one from somewhere. He hoped moisture hadn’t caused the short somehow; he’d left the garage door open when it rained the other day but he didn’t think anything had gotten wet…
More things he’d fucked up. He wasn’t even looking forward to Flowerfest, though it was usually a fun show, the afterparty made better last year by their band coming in third. Taro had killed a cover of Garbage’s “Only Happy When It Rains.”
He didn’t feel like making music right now. At least not bickering about a setlist. He didn’t want peppy happy feel good music, he wanted something angry. Drumming his brains out sounded good but he had to fucking work. Bob wanted him to go check out some new rich shithole place –not how Bob had explained it, but apparently the pool needed a complete clean and reset and Bob said it sounded like it would need “his best pool guy.” Which he’d clearly said because he felt bad for Jungkook, like he could sense he was going through something. But Jungkook hadn’t been going through anything yet. Monday was fine! He just hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was all.
Fuck, was he turning into a shriveled dick?! He didn’t want to be that kind of guy everyone took pity on because he seemed on the cusp of a breakdown. Or, you know, such a cranky fucker that no one wanted to be around him. Yoongi could strike the balance between anti-social and charming, but he couldn’t and he didn’t want to come off that way. He was Jay-kaaaay, just cool and chill. He just wanted to have a good time and this week was just not a good time.
Time to rage. Rage it out of his system. He took the CD binder from the passenger’s seat floorboard with him when he traded to a company truck at the pool shop, digging through until he came across an album that seemed like the right energy to get this all out of his system by the time he got to the job site. It was a light day for him anyway –inspection at this new client house, then inventory at the shop. Bob was probably going to ask him to stock the trucks, that was fine. If he had to deal with any obnoxious clients today he’d probably lose his fucking mind and do something he regretted.
The first track of Rise Against’s 2008 album Appeal to Reason had him drumming on the steering wheel, banging his head at a red light until it hurt his neck and he dialed that back. Damn, it was hard to keep his body still actually. It was impossible to hear the drum track of “Collapse” and not need to recreate it with hands and feet at his own set. Soyoon would kill the bass part. Yoongi would get the guitar lick so good and make it his own. Why couldn’t they do shit like this at the Flowerfest?
He pulled to a stop in front of the house just as his favorite song of the album came on, track 11. The music hadn’t exactly healed him, but he felt held together in a hot, angry way that felt good. Fired up. So he stayed in his truck, singing at the top of his lungs.
“It kills me not to know this But I’ve all but just forgottenWhat the color of her eyes wereAnd her scars or how she got them”
He drummed through to the end, eyes closed, feeling the emotions of the week ride out of his body. The song ended and he opened his eyes to see an old white lady walking her dog, staring at him with some blend of horror and curiosity.
“Yeah, whatever, lady,” he mumbled to himself as he slammed the truck door and headed towards the gate. It was so overgrown he paused to check the number and then wondered if this was really where he was supposed to go in, but he didn’t actually see a driveway. Around the corner probably. Annoying. People with properties that were big. His driveway was right there by the front door. Convenient.
There was a buzzer so he pushed that and waited. Then pushed it again. Then jumped when a woman’s voice came through grating and loud just as he’d pushed it a third time,
“Oh, that works? Hello? Hello?”
“Yeah, uh, hi.”
“Who is it?”
“I’m the pool guy. Here to see your uh, pool?”
“Oh, you’re at the front. Why don’t you come around the back instead? The front is a mess. The driveway is around the corner.”
He made an annoyed growl low in his throat. He didn’t feel like moving the truck. There was something insulting about forcing a contractor to take the back entrance even though he almost always did at a job. He was already here, couldn’t she let him in through the front?
In a short-sighted stubborn fit, he decided to walk the length of the property instead of moving the truck. A green fence rang the length of the yard but didn’t completely hide the very large house rising up from what seemed like an unusual number of trees. Even in the rich neighborhoods, lots around here tended to have pretty sparse greenery but this place was practically lush. On the side, a higher privacy fence eventually transitioned to concrete columns on either side of a security gate; clearly the owners of the house trusted the front street a little more than this side street.
Here was another box, but before he could push the buzzer, the gate slid open. He realized now how stupid he looked without his truck, like he’d just walked here or something. Had the owner watched him walk around? Probably had cameras everywhere.
The gravel driveway was odd to walk on and he wondered why rich people did that sort of shit. Just have a normal concrete slab like everyone else. You couldn’t play basketball or anything on this kind of thing. The rocks got into his flipflops and pissed him off.
But damn, the yard was pretty cool, he had to admit. The house was fancy as shit. Huge. Getting some work done, clearly, judging by the pile of lumber next to the open garage door. He could hear a wood saw muted drifting out of the open windows. There were a lot of windows.
Instead of waiting for the owner, he wandered over to the patio area, and from there saw the pool anyway. Some furniture was shoved against the far side with brand new cushions, all of it yet untouched by sun or rain. A fountain was built against one wall of the patio –a big patio, clearly meant for hosting rich people BBQs or whatever– and he peeked in but not only was it not running, the thing was green and slimy and totally gunked.
New owners. He couldn’t remember if Bob had said that, he hadn’t been listening. Probably they’d got this place at a steal for millions of dollars, instead of doubles of millions of dollars, because it needed some work. Which they would spend more millions of dollars on.
He squinted up at a balcony on the second floor. The sun was finally peeking through the clouds, like maybe it would break them apart. A breeze somehow made it through the yard. Somehow, despite being in a neighborhood and close to other things, it all managed to feel so private. Rich people. Jungkook’s bedroom window looked into his neighbor’s bathroom –and the asshole hadn’t bothered getting a curtain until Jungkook had marched over there to gift him one.
The pool was tucked away to the side, surrounded by more plants, mostly in pots, some broken and spilling dirt across the beautiful stone pool coping. A waterfall against a higher wall was all gunked up. Frogs soaked in the section above the waterfall. Green slime coated everything and he couldn’t see through the murky water to the bottom. It was a nice big pool though, it would be fucking awesome once cleaned, especially half sun half shade like this. He looked up to see how much sun it would get in the height of summer and only then noticed the hot tub in a gazebo not far away. Though covered, it was probably even more fucked; weeds grew directly on the cracked tarp cover.
“Hello? Are you back here?”
“By the pool!” Jungkook called back. Oops, maybe he should have waited, but there was just something alluring about seeing such a rich house in such a state of disrepair. Humbled for a moment in time. Approachable. Touchable, like he wouldn’t transfer some dark smudge onto every smooth white marble surface with his working-class hands. He couldn’t do anything to the pool to make it worse. Time and neglect had fucked it five ways already.
“Oh good, yes. So you see, it’s… in need of some work.”
It only dawned on Jungkook as he turned that the voice was a familiar one.
Mrs. Birch strode close to him, crossing her arms around her stomach as she surveyed the pool, as if confirming it was still as bad as she recalled. He forgot all about the pool, as surprised to see her as he’d been getting thrashed by a surfboard that morning. Maybe she had expected his surprise, maybe it was obvious on his face. When her gaze shifted to meet his, she gave him a little smile, like she’d predicted this.
“Hi again, JK.”
“Um… uh… yeah, it is. Looks like shit.”
“Thanks.”
“Not you, the pool!”
“I know not me,” she laughed, her whole face lighting up. “Well…” She gave a little self-conscious grin and tossed her head, lifting her hands which were covered with something powdery white. The same substance coated her dark red overalls –they looked fancy and designer and yet they were clearly her physical-work clothes, dotted with bleach and paint and dirt stains. Her blouse was rolled up past her elbows. It was a very amusing blend of designer and working girl and Jungkook thought she looked…
“You look great,” he said without thinking. Then quickly lifted his hand to brush self-consciously at his hair and rushed on, “You, uh… selling this place? I thought you were gone.”
“Actually, the opposite. I bought this place.”
He was shocked. He grimaced. Then he joked to cover whatever was happening on his face, “This place? Damn, the agent who sold it to you must have been really good…”
“Hey, it’s a good place! It just needs a facelift. Happens to the best of us old girls. But a fresh coat of paint and a trim and we’re good as new.”
He swallowed hard, wrenching his first thought back from escaping his mouth. Trim where?! Haircut, she must mean; it was up in a messy ponytail but it looked shorter than the last time he’d seen her maybe? Haircut.
“Are you old?” was what came out instead.
She laughed and confirmed only, “Older than you. So, what do you think about it?”
“The haircut?”
“The pool?”
“Oh. It looks like shit.” He grinned, hoping it would make her laugh again. It did.
“I know. But I figured you could fix it up.” A business tone came into her voice as she walked briskly around the pool, making him think she wanted him to follow, so she did. “I’m hoping you can make it nice, whatever that takes, and not that I have to rip it out or anything.”
“Rip out… what? The pool?”
“And put a new one in?”
“Ah, Mrs. Birch, that’s not really how you deal with pools,” he snickered. “It looks concrete, so it’s probably fine under all that shit. If there are cracks in the concrete it might need some repairs but it’s just a residential pool and it’s still full of water, I don’t think it’ll have that problem.”
“But if the concrete stays green, or…?”
He tried not to puff up too much as he assured her, “It won’t be green when I’m done with it. I’ll clean it and paint it. Bob was right, it’s going to be a big job though.”
Speaking of Bob, Jungkook suddenly wondered if Bob had set him up for this. Had Mrs. Birch requested him, or had Bob just sent him because Jungkook was his best guy? Or was Bob taking on a meddlesome streak and had decided to throw Jungkook into this for other reasons? Surely he wasn’t trying to get more calls of complaint from Tinydick Tim. Surely he hadn’t read too much into Jungkook asking about a Cornelia… no, he must have just forgotten it all, otherwise he would have remembered that Jungkook didn’t want to clean for the Birches anymore and he always respected that kind of thing.
Jungkook looked around, waiting for that piece of shit to come strolling out. The shock of seeing Mrs. Birch began to slide into prepared annoyance. Was he really going to have to go through this whole thing again, watching her noodle-dick husband get away with everything? Jungkook had no interest in making this pool nice for that chode.
Mrs. Birch nodded, “I thought so too.” It Jungkook a moment to remember what they were even talking about. The job.i
“I’ll give Bob my take and he’ll write an estimate for you. You can get quotes from other places but it’ll be expensive no matter–”
“I don’t need to shop around,” she interrupted. “The estimate will be fine. I trust you. Your work.”
Jungkook didn’t look at her, not wanting to reveal his internal debate. He’d missed seeing her. She looked good. She was nice to work for. But her husband sucked and he just didn’t think he could do this again. He’d tell Bob to send someone else.
So he nodded and just confirmed, “I’ll tell Bob and he’ll write an estimate for you. Thanks for thinking of us to take care of your pool at your new place.”
“Of course.” She sounded guarded now, her expression narrowed like she could pick up on his shift in mood. Actually he could have given her an estimate right there, he had a good idea in mind about it, but he worried it would make it seem like he was doing the work himself, or that she wouldn’t believe the quote, or that Tim would jump out of a bush and pick a fight. Instead he took it upon himself to leave the pool area, heading back towards the gate. He wished he could jump into his truck and peel out, get away from that friendly smile of hers. Damn it was weird to see her again.
“That’s all you needed to see?” she asked him at the gate.
“Yep.”
“Ok, well… great, then. I’d like the work to begin as soon as possible.”
“Bob will send you the estimate, Mrs. Birch–”
“It’s Arison. It’s not Birch anymore.”
He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips at this bit of information, not trusting himself to say anything. Even an “oh?” would sound a little too much right now. Also he was pretty sure it would have come out a weird squeak.
“But you can just call me Grace, you know.”
“I’m just trying to be respectful…” he mumbled, stupefied. Divorced. That’s what it meant, right? She was divorced. Not a Birch anymore… Timothy was tossed out with the trash where he belonged! And now she was telling him to call her Grace. His confusion made him stupid anyway and he clarified, “Not Cornelia?”
“I hope not,” she laughed. “Only my dentist and my grandparents call me that. You know I go by Grace.” He did not know this. “Is Cornelia what it says on my account?”
“I’ll fix it,” he lied. “You like ‘Grace’ better?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“I thought it… suited you.”
“Ouch. Why does that sound like an insult?” He had never seen her laugh this much before. Divorce looked good on her!
“It’s not! It’s just…”
“An old white woman name? It’s fine. I’m self aware. But no, Grace is fine although it’s not much younger, and–”
“You bought this whole place by yourself?” he blurted out. He still couldn’t comprehend that she was divorced, that Mrs Birch was no longer Mrs Birch but a single woman named Grace. Unless she’d found someone new already. That seemed likely, giving her looks and his luck. Surely a single woman didn’t buy a house like this just for herself. She must be getting married again already.
“I did,” she agreed, then added, “Well, I have a cat now,” then grimaced, “The house is quite a project but I wanted something new to sink my teeth into. It’s a fresh start.”
“A trim.”
“Yes,” she grinned. He hadn’t meant to say that quite, but appreciated her pity laugh. Sink my teeth into. Really, she’d just said that? She had nice teeth. Rich people teeth. He wondered if she’d had braces as a kid –probably– but it was too humanizing, too normal person to associate with her. She might not be Mrs. Birch but she was still a rich white lady and he was a pool boy being hired to fix her pool. Not fuck her on the new patio lounger–
“K, I’ll get started on Monday,” he said without any actual thought about what his Monday schedule was like, or if she and Bob could actually sign a contract by then. He just needed to get out of here and let his brain settle down and that was the first day of the week he thought of. Maybe he had a concussion. Maybe the surfboard actually had him in the head.
“Great. I appreciate it, JK. I’ll see you Monday. Oh, and the code is 1-2-0-1, just let yourself in, in case I’m elbow deep in something and can’t get to the gate.”
Balls deep in–
“Yep, great, that’s not a very secure code though.”
“It’s my birthday.”
“Doesn’t make it a good code,” he snorted. He didn’t know if her sigh was amused or annoyed. Oops. “See ya Monday.”
“Where’s your truck? Oh, you can just park back here next time–”
“Got it, bye!”
He high-tailed it out of there, walking quick until he realized that looked stupid, and then trying to walk slow. He realized now she may not have let him through the front because of all the work being done. She’d given him the code to her gate to just come and go as he pleased. She was single.
Not that that was why she’d given him the code. Of course.
He’d have to ask Bob if he’d been set up on purpose. But he also couldn’t ask Bob, in case he hadn’t been and Bob would then realize that maybe it wasn’t the best idea for Jungkook to work for her. For Grace Arison. You probably shouldn’t work for a woman you’d wanked to… but he thought she was gone!
Besides, if Bob had set him up, Jungkook didn’t want to give that fucking scheming old man the gratification. He wouldn't do that kind of thing though. Why would he? It wasn’t like he knew what went on in Jungkook’s head anyway.
Thank fuck she didn’t know what was in his head. He could control it though. It was just the shock and maybe a concussion. He was a fucking professional. He’d clean her pool so good. He’d make sure she had the cleanest fucking pool. Clean enough to fuck in– shit, he meant clean enough to eat in– eat food in, to be clear. Well, not that you would want to eat food in the pool… Other things could be nice to eat in a pool, perched on the ledge, legs spread, white bikini tugged to the side, or maybe a red one this time…
He must be concussed, his brain felt completely broken.
Shit.
“Shit for brains, shit for brains, shit for brains,” Grace chanted to herself because she couldn’t find any better words to vent her fury at the man she had stupidly loved for so many years. How? How?! Every interaction with him this past half a year as they dragged themselves towards official divorce had made her question her own intelligence in a way nothing ever had in life. How had she not known how awful he was? How had she fallen for his charm? What charm?! He was vile and she couldn’t believe she’d admired him. Now just seeing his name at the end of an email made her want to vomit.
He wasn’t making things easy for the divorce. They could be almost done but he continued to throw out obstacle after another, arguing with everything their lawyers tried to settle on, even when it didn’t serve him! She’d always thought Tim was a principled man, after all, and it turned out his core principle was to make Grace as miserable as he could. Of course he’d tried to raise a fuss about her buying the house but her attorney had been one step ahead. Now it was unclear whether Tim’s pride or greed would win out in the case of spousal support –a move her attorney seemed to be hoping for so she could rip it apart with the pre-nup. If anything, Tim might owe Grace spousal support, but she didn’t fucking want it. She just wanted to be free!
The phone rang as she drove, a call from her mother she knew she couldn’t answer right now at risk of running off the road or lacing her speech with too many profanities. She’d need to calm down first. Instead she fumed at being stuck in traffic, and then fumed at an Amazon truck pulled across the road, and then fumed at a lady walking her dog too slowly at the crosswalk. She just wanted to be home!
Not that home felt like home yet. The first few days in the house after closing had felt like magic as she floated through rooms on the wings of possibility. But she’d started so many projects so quickly that within days she felt like she was living in a construction site. Which she could handle for a while, but managing so many contractors was a full time job so it felt like she never got to check out. Half didn’t show up when they said they would, getting quotes had been like pulling teeth because no one wanted to put things in writing, and she’d already had two things broken as people worked.
She could hear poor Foam yowling all the way from downstairs as she put away her keys and purse. She couldn’t let the kitty wander during the day because so many contractors in and out kept leaving doors open and she worried she’d never get him back if he escaped. He didn’t seem to mind being confined upstairs so long as he could keep eyes on Grace, and because he seemed pretty freaked out by boxes, but it just wasn’t possible as she did her own jobs around the house, one right after the other, all in an effort to get this place comfortable for the two of them. As contractors sanded and polished floors, re-tiled bathrooms, and painted just about every square inch of walls and ceilings, Grace followed in their wake hanging curtains, pictures, shelves, building furniture, and cleaning, always cleaning. She’d even replaced two light fixtures on her own, and all the light switch covers, and ripped old wallpaper out of an upstairs bathroom –which had been miserable and led to more contractors hired.
Maybe she ought to be doing more herself, but she didn’t know how and the contractors were supposed to do a good job. Maybe she ought to be doing less, but she wanted to get her hands dirty on this place. Her grandfather had built a cabin all by himself decades ago, learned how to do the wiring and everything, and even though it was secretly a family joke that the place was one surge away from burning down, she’d always admired his skill and determination.
Not to mention, she couldn’t really unpack with so much going on. She hated the feeling of living out of a suitcase. She knew not being able to unpack made this place feel even less settled, but after a whole rack of her clothing wound up covered in white flecks by the first idiot painter she’d hired who sprayed the bedroom without closing the closet door, she’d realized it was better to wait than risk ruining anything.
But Foam didn’t like it either and let her know with a series of clicks and angry huffs as she sat on the ground and let him crawl all over her. He turned his head away and twitched his tail in anger, then changed his mind and ducked his head beneath her hand for affection. Foam might not be able to hear the voices of the contractors in and out every day, but he could no doubt feel the vibrations of all the work they did and spent most of his time lately hiding behind boxes shoved into the bedrooms that had already been painted, or ripping up Grace’s mattress from the bottom up. That had been a distressing discovery. She wasn’t going to replace it until time to unpack though, in case Foam repeated this form of protest until all the strangers were out of the house. No one could see it anyway, she’d only noticed when fishing some of his toys out from beneath the bed.
“Maybe I fucked up,” Grace admitted to Foam, who would never agree. “I took on too much,” she sighed. Her phone chirped, a message from the lawn guy she’d hired that he would be by to start weeding that afternoon. She was worried he was going to rip up things she didn’t want ripped up. She kept thinking she and the contractors had clear understandings about what was being done, only for them to then do something completely wrong…
The thing was, Tim had always handled this stuff before. Any time there was work that needed to be done on the house, even if she found a company to do it, Tim was the one who talked through it with them, negotiated the payment, made sure they did it, pitched a fit if they didn’t until it got done right. She’d thought his micromanaging was insulting, but he’d insisted it was the only way to make sure things got done right. She didn’t want to believe he may have been right…
Foam butted his head against the bottom of her chin, surprising her and making her bite her lip. She scratched his head and rubbed her lip, then grumbled as her phone buzzed again, probably another contractor calling that they’d be late. Maybe the furniture place calling to cancel her order again –she was never going to get a fucking couch at this rate. The thought of her mother’s reaction if she bought something from a box store was almost enough to make her laugh.
[Stephanie]: drinks tomorrow night? There’s an art gala you can be my date
Grace didn’t respond. Stephanie, bless her heart, had been trying to drag her out for two months now, ever since Grace had stopped avoiding basically all of her friends. Well, she hadn’t quite stopped, but she’d admitted what was going on. It was embarrassing, admitting the failure of your marriage, admitting that you had been a fool, wondering if they had known it all along. Stephanie had gleefully launched into a tirade about what an asshole Tim was and all Grace could think was have you just watched me and thought how stupid I am for years? And you didn’t say anything?
Grace felt tired. Bone-deep tired. The house was supposed to be fun but right now she just felt stupid, again. It was all going to be worth it, but it didn’t feel like it right now. She should have just bought a nice new place –maybe it would be impersonal, but she wouldn’t have to work so fucking hard…
She gave Foam some treats which he took to tossing around the bedroom and then dragged her ass downstairs to vent her frustration through manual labor. It looked like the kitchen was going to be the first room in the house to be finished –the new appliances were in, the tile was regrouted, and a new chandelier (not hung by her because she couldn’t even lift the thing) swung overhead. Nothing left to do but paint the cabinets and unpack –she couldn’t stand the shiny oak stain. At least the weather was nice today; she opened all the doors and windows to air out the lingering smell of paint inside.
She’d just finished prying all the doors off to set outside on newspaper when she heard an engine pause behind the back gate. A moment later the gate beeped open, and then the pool guy’s truck crunched across the gravel.
Shit, she’d forgotten he was coming over today! Out of habit, she touched her hair to make sure it wasn’t doing anything crazy. When she’d seen herself in the mirror after his initial inspection, she’d been horrified. It wasn’t like she’d known JK was the guy Bob would send out to do the estimates. She’d been too embarrassed to request him, and then annoyed with herself for not requesting him since she knew he did good work, and then shocked by nerves all over again to find him standing by her bog of a pool.
The very same JK who’d shouted at her to leave her husband months ago after delivering her a DVD of her husband’s infidelity stepped from the truck now and gave her a short wave. The same relief and shame washed over her as it had the other day. She’d spent his whole visit last time desperate to let him know she was divorced now and also mortified to actually admit it –that he’d been right, that her marriage failed, that she wanted him to know. Only because he’d been tangentially involved in its demise and she wanted him to know that she knew she was stupid to have married Tim in the first place. He knew, she knew, everyone knew now.
Still, maybe it would have been better to never see him again. Maybe she should have called another pool company. And yet she hadn’t thought twice about calling, even knowing there was a chance JK would be sent out. She hadn’t thought twice about agreeing to Bob’s quote for the project –which, she learned, he had expected JK to give her on sight, as he considered JK more than qualified to do so. She had thought twice but still asked if JK would be the one doing the work, and then agreed that was fine when Bob asked if there was an issue.
JK grabbed two nets on poles from the truck and hauled them across the patio to the pool. Unlike her last house, there was no real poolhouse, just a shed that she’d had completely emptied out of rusted old cob-webbed supplies.
“Hey!” she called, crossing to intercept him. “I don’t have anything stored for poolcare. Could you make me a list of the things I should have here? That shed is big enough to store anything I need, right? Or do I need a bigger one?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grinned and she flushed at the insinuation she had been rude. She hadn’t meant to be. Just…
“Yes, good morning,” she agreed even though it hadn’t been and also it was after eleven. She wondered if he’d gone surfing this morning or if his hair always just looked wind-swept like that.
“Sure, I can make you a list but for now I’ll just bring everything I need. It’s going to take me a while to get this thing cleaned up.”
“Yes, I know. Ok, that’s fine.”
“Today I’m just going to get anything big out and start draining it. I’ve got a buddy who will come by later and we’ll trade off watching the pump.”
“Oh… ok…” She didn’t really know what any of this meant except he looked eager to get started and like she might be bothering him. Things had seemed companionable the other day so she’d thought they could both be professional and friendly despite him knowing that embarrassing part of her failed marriage, but now she didn’t appreciate that he made her feel like a pest in her own house.
“Well I’m going to be working out here too today, hopefully I won’t be a distraction.”
“Uh… depends what you’re doing I guess…” he said, suddenly going very still so that she almost crashed into him.
“Painting cabinets, why?”
“Oh. Nah, that’s fine.”
“Well… good,” she said with a nod. “I’ll hm, leave you to your work then. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Got any Cheetos?” he asked with a crooked grin, then clarified, “I’m kidding, I brought a lunch for later.”
“I’ll see what I can find…” She felt bad now because she did not have Cheetos, or anything else to offer him. She was living off take out and a fruit basket the real estate agent had left for her. Most of the fruit was going bad by now. She didn’t even have sodas or beers, in an effort to force herself to drink more water. It was backfiring because instead she just drank more coffee…
“No, don’t worry about it, I was joking. I brought my own Cheetos. I can share if you’re really that upset about it…”
“Hm? I’m not upset,” she said, brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at her, his brow furrowed with concern too, like she’d said or done something alarming. She didn’t think she had. For a moment they just looked at each other and she wasn’t sure why it was such a heavy feeling moment. What had just happened?!
“Oh, ok. Well uh…”
“Ok well… let me know if you need anything else.”
She fled, embarrassed to have hovered too long. She didn’t want to be like Tim!
It took her a while to get all the cabinets spread out and her supplies ready between the patio and driveway, face mask and coveralls ready. She could just barely see the pool area. JK had a big barrel with a bag and had begun fishing around in the pool, scooping up slime and leaves and sticks and who knew what else. It looked pretty awful but he didn’t seem bothered by it, just like it was a normal day for him. Every so often he’d stop to push the hair from his face until he finally pulled a bandana out of his pocket and tied it across his head.
Grace turned her attention from JK, grabbed the finish stripper, slid her facemask and goggles in place and set to work.
**
It was miserable work. Grace discovered quickly that stripping the cabinets was far more onerous of a task than the internet had made it sound. An hour or so later and she’d only managed to strip two of the doors and there were a lot to go.
In stepping back to survey her paltry work, she realized JK was watching her from the tailgate of his truck where he’d unfurled his lunch.
“You’re really doing it yourself, huh?” he called over.
In an effort to not show that she was exhausted and frustrated, she retorted, “Yes, I like to get dirty.” His look of surprise made her realize her own words, and she quickly added, “My hands dirty. I like to work hard for… things.” With a shake of her head, she turned away under the guise of taking the unflattering safety gear off. She avoided counting the cabinets. Sweat dripped down her back beneath the coveralls, which she decided were not worth it. It was too hot. She might as well just ruin her t shirt and leggings and let that be that.
JK was still watching her, and she didn’t want him to realize she didn’t exactly know what she was doing. She felt like that had been painfully obvious to enough contractors already. She thought of herself as so intelligent and capable and confident and yet when discussing work estimates with contractors to fix things she didn’t understand in the first place, she worried she was just letting herself be taken advantage of over and over again. That’s why she’d gotten divorced, to put an end to that!
“I didn’t know you knew how to do this kind of thing,” he said between sips of a Sprite. “It’s impressive.”
The praise was too much when in fact it was a lie; she felt compelled to correct, “Honestly, I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She appreciated that he looked surprised, whether it was true or not. “But I’m figuring it out.”
“Still… I mean, most ri– er, people would just pay to have it all done, yeah? That looks like hard work.”
“Many rich people would, yes,” she mused, amused by his self-correction. “My grandfather likes doing this kind of thing. He built his own cabin all by himself. I always thought that was really admirable, to learn how to do things yourself. Maybe the things I do myself in the house won’t be perfect but I’ll see them and know I figured it out. That I did things I didn’t know I could do.”
“That’s really cool,” he grinned. “When I see the things I fix around my place, I just think what a shithead my landlord is.”
“Ah.” She didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t seem insulted that she’d claimed as a hobby something that was a necessity for him, but the comparison made her feel bad. “Well I’m sure you’re much better at this than I am. My arms are already aching and I’ve got a lot to go.”
“You’re scraping them down?”
“Getting the stain off, then I’ll sand, then paint. I’ll have to do this for all the installed parts inside too.”
“Damn,” he snickered. “I’d just hire someone if I were you…”
Grace didn’t know what to say. It was tempting right now, but being witnessed also made her more determined. Even if it was hard, she wanted to look at her cabinets and see perseverance, not capitulation.
He wadded up the remains of his lunch and tossed them into his truck. By the time he headed back to the pool, the carpet guys had arrived, and Grace took the opportunity of ushering them up to also scrounge up food for herself. Her arms were shaky from the effort so the break was welcome, though eating in the kitchen so ripped apart felt like a regretful step backwards. It was going to take her all week to do these cabinets, probably.
Her aunt called while she ate and she answered even though her mom was going to give her hell about it, exaggerating the progress on her house since her aunt would never see it anyway. She promised to send pictures and mindlessly mm-hmed through her aunt’s family gossip. JK was done digging detritus from the pool it seemed and was running a very long hose all the way across her yard. It made her nervous, as she realized he might be about to dump all the water onto her property. She hadn’t thought about where the water from draining the pool would go, but already envisioned her flooded, ruined lawn.
“Hey!” she called, striding across the patio as soon as she’d said a hasty farewell to her aunt. “JK!”
“Yeah?” He squatted beside some sort of contraption he was hooking the hose up to.
“Um… what are you doing?”
“I’m going to drain the pool now.”
“But… where?”
“For now I’m going to put it into your front yard.”
“Won’t it flood my yard?” she asked nervously. “The lawn guys are coming to start work this afternoon…” She looked around because actually they ought to already be here.
“If I just let it go forever maybe. I’m hoping that because your yard has a bit of slant, most of the water will go down under the streets out front and away from your place. I’ll keep an eye on it though, if it starts to pool, I’ll move it and we’ll dump a few other places in the yard. I want to keep it away from this area though because…” He looked at her, as if assessing whether she actually cared. She did. She wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to ruin her property but also it was clear he had a rationale for his choices, and that was interesting. He was good at what he did.
“Because why?”
“Well I’m pulling all the water out of this pool, right? So now there isn’t water holding the pool walls in place. The dirt outside the pool is going to be pressing on the walls without anything pressing back, and if I dump a bunch of water in the dirt around it, there will be even more pressure. If your pool was fiberglass or acrylic, it could pop out of the ground. That rarely happens with concrete ones but it still could, I don’t want to risk it.”
“Oh.”
“When I got the permit Friday I was hoping I could just–”
“You got a permit?” she interrupted.
“Uh… yeah. This is like 30,000 gallons of water, you can’t just dump it,” he pointed out. She hadn’t thought about that at all. “You’ve got to dechlorinate, debrominate, and dump in an approved place and manner. I already tested it though and the water is so old all the chemicals already broke down, saves me some time.”
“There’s a lot more to it than I realized…”
“Well that’s why you hired me, huh?” he beamed. “So I can be the one to think about it. So for now I’ll dump around your property –it won’t hurt the plants, I checked the levels of everything.”
“And it won’t flood anything?”
“Nah, I’ll watch it. If it did start to pool, I can get another permit that lets me dump into the sewer system, but I have to prove it’s not possible to dump on the property. I think it’ll be fine.”
Grace didn’t have any real reason to argue. He seemed confident and like he had a lot of experience with this. She had none.
“Ok then, sounds like you’ve got it all under control.”
He assured her, “I promise I’m not going to kill your jungle.”
“Thank you. I’ll leave you to your work then. I’ve got stripping to do.”
“Cabinets,” he said, cluing her into what she’d just said.
She clapped a hand to her face and mumbled. “Yes, cabinets…” and walked quickly away. Why did she have to sound like such an idiot in front of contractors? She glanced back and saw him shaking his head and she wanted to shrivel up.
She really put her back into the stripping, determination restored. She was glad that’s how the carpet contractors found her when they came down to ask some questions. The day was nice to be out working in, sunny but not yet too hot. She put music on to have something to work towards and made a mental note to upgrade the sound system soon. She only owned a single CD and so had to roll through the radio stations instead of just listening to what she wanted, but it was all commercials so she went back to her music.
JK passed by to his truck again, and this time returned with his own goggles and mask. He looked hot with them propped on his forehead over the bandana, arms and neck all sweaty from his hard work so far.
“Here to help with the stripping,” he announced, then gave her a cheeky grin and added, “Cabinets.” Grace failed to hold back the roll of her eyes –while flattered he was comfortable teasing her, she didn’t appreciate the evidence that the pool guy was probably another man in her life who had charmed her blind, and probably every other woman he came across. At least she got good pool work out of him, unlike her unhappy painful marriage with Tim.
He picked up the stain stripper can and looked it over, at which point she realized he really did mean to help.
“Wait, why– you aren’t here to do this.”
“I know, but I just need to monitor the pump for the next…” he looked at his wrist that didn’t have a watch, “Fourteen hours or so.”
“What?!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll sleep out here.”
“Wait, but–”
“I’m joking. My buddy will by this afternoon to watch it until dinner. Then we’ll let the ground settle and finish it tomorrow. I’ve got nothing to do now except check on it though so I’ll help you with this.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she insisted. “This is hard work. You could just read a book or something.”
“Oh yeah let me just dig through all the books I have in my work truck… nah, I’ll help. You’ve got a lot of cabinets here.”
“You really don’t have to. I feel bad. I mean, I can pay you for your help, just tell me how much–”
“You got something else to play?” he asked, pointing to the sky –by which he meant the music, she realized. Her only CD, Celine Dion’s greatest hits. She’d stolen it from her sister over a decade ago and it had somewhere traveled with her this far.
“No, the system only uses CDs.”
“Ok let’s deal with that first, let me show you what I’ve got with me.”
Grace felt like this day was getting very out of hand and yet led him to the system’s command console once he’d hauled a big CD binder from his truck. He let her flip through the book and she found herself captivated by this glimpse into his music taste. Lots of rock, ranging from Metallica to Red Hot Chili Peppers to Green Day to–
“Olivia Rodrigo?” she said with surprise.
“Yeah, what about it?” he asked. “It’s a good album.”
“So you still buy CDs. I thought you were young…”
“I get tired of YouTube ads. Besides, owned media is an investment.” She couldn’t tell if he was making fun of her or not.
“Well I don’t know anything about her but she’s the new pop girl, huh? I’ve heard her name a lot lately.”
“She’s rock-pop,” he countered. “You don’t like rock music?”
“I do, I guess. I don’t know that I pay much attention to what’s popular.”
“You like Celine Dion and what else?”
“I listen to a lot of classical,” she admitted. “And… dance? Or whatever is on the radio…” She was embarrassed now to admit that while she liked music, she didn’t have any very strong preferences. A lot of oldies played on her Pandora station because it was familiar and reminded her of what her parents had listened to growing up. Classical soothed her. Dance and dance-pop reminded her of her younger days going out with friends. Tim had liked jazz and classic rock; she doubted she’d ever be able to listen to any of it again without shivering.
“You don’t know much about music?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Damn. Let’s start with Olivia’s album then and work our way back from,” he said, popping the CD in. She didn’t really understand what that meant but felt like letting him pick the music while he helped her was only fair.
JK was a workhorse when it came to stripping the cabinets. She was stunned by how much more quickly the work went with the two of them, largely because his brute strength got the stain off much faster than she could. Granted, she found it distracting watching him mouth along to Olivia Rodrigo’s lyrics I’m a perfect all-American bitch with perfect all-American lips and perfect all-American hips.
Occasionally he’d go to check the pump. Occasionally she got called away by the carpet contractors, or the lawn guys showing up and needing guidance. The Olivia album ended and JK put on the next one.
“Who’s this?” she asked, trying not to notice the way the muscles of his bare arms glistened and flexed as he scraped at the cabinet door.
“Arctic Monkeys. Seemed like a good next step. Everyone likes the Arctic Monkeys.”
“Never heard of them.”
“Damn,” he laughed again. She didn’t know what he thought that said about her but decided it wasn’t anything good. She felt embarrassed not to know this music that “everyone” liked.
“Are they really that famous?”
“They’re doing all right,” he shrugged. “This album is from 2007 though.” Grace tried to recall what she had been doing in 2007. She’d just graduated high school and was headed to college… “I mean, I was only in like fifth grade but my older brother liked them and I liked anything he liked, you know?”
Grace choked. She turned to the side and coughed. Well that was a timely reminder that this hot guy was very, very young.
“You ok? You didn’t eat any of it, did you?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” she assured him, and focused on the scraping and forced her eyes back to the straight and narrow.
He didn’t make it easy though. Only a song later, he sang along quietly with the lyrics, a steady stream of words that flowed without break for breath:
“Running off over next door's garden
Before the hour is done
It's more a question of feeling
Than it is a question of fun
The confidence is the balaclava
I'm sure you'll baffle 'em good
Will the ending reek of salty cheeks
And runny makeup alone?”
“You have a nice voice,” she couldn’t help but remark.
He beamed and seemed to look away as he mumbled, “Ah, thanks… I’m in a band.”
“What? Really?”
He laughed at something she didn’t understand and admitted, “Yeah…”
“I didn’t know that. You never said.”
“It’s not that big a deal, just a hobby thing.”
“You’re the singer?”
“No no, I’m the drummer.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah it’s just a little thing with my friends but we play in bars and stuff– we’ve placed in competitions sometimes.” There was a grunt underlying his words as he scrapped and turned, scraped and turned. “You should check us out.”
“Hm, maybe I will,” she said, quickly and without conviction. She thought the last thing she should do was go somewhere specifically to watch this much younger guy who was working on her house drum in a band.
Once upon a time she’d been college-age and gone to concerts with her girl friends and fantasized about meeting up with the band afterwards. And now she was a grown woman with no need to confuse those things, especially with the guy fixing her pool. Especially, she realized, since she technically could now. She wasn’t married. She was allowed the fantasy, allowed to meet someone, allowed to fuck around with someone in a band like her younger self had wanted to.
It was too much, a rush of reality she wasn’t prepared for. Her divorce wasn’t even finished yet, she definitely wasn’t ready to wander down any paths of fantasy –and most certainly not ones that in any way would make her uncomfortable around a contractor who’d be at her house a lot for the next week at least and then every other week for the future beyond that.
This poor guy just wanted to brag about his band and here she was having a mental crisis because it had dawned on her that soon she’d be free to fuck around. Would she want to? How did people even do that?! Was she a fuck-around sort of woman or a lifer type? She had been relatively restrained in college and married Tim so young… she couldn’t picture herself suddenly turning into the sort of woman a rock star would invite backstage. Honestly, she didn’t even know how the opposite sex would react if she did start trying to date. What type would she be into? What type would be into her? And, most importantly, how did she make sure she didn’t get fooled into another Tim?
“You ok?” JK asked, setting his finished cabinet door aside and stretching forward to grab another. He reached and the sleeve of his tank moved to reveal the nastiest bruise she’d ever seen, a whorl of purple and black and brown that made her skin crawl.
“Oh my god, what happened to your shoulder?!”
“Oh, surfing accident.”
“Are you ok?!”
“I asked you first,” he teased.
“I’m fine, just momentarily overwhelmed by reality but your shoulder…”
“I’m fine, just got momentarily overwhelmed by a surfboard that didn’t see me.”
“That sounds dangerous!”
“It was but I’m fine. Just a little stiff.” He set the fresh cabinet door down in front of him and cleared his throat. “I’m working it out though. It’s fine. Ah… reality you want to talk about or something…?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing, nevermind.”
She felt like she’d said something wrong based on his sudden silence but couldn’t figure out what. He shook his head.
“Are you sure this isn’t hurting your shoulder?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’m going to check on the pump.” He jumped up quickly and disappeared, which gave her a welcome moment to brush away the concern that had made her want to reach for his shoulder. It looked so bad! Holy shit! Leave it to a guy like that to shrug off such an injury. She’d be laid up in bed for a week and here he was not only working, but doing extra work to help her.
She heard a truck at the gate and the buzzer. Assuming it was reinforcements for either the carpet-guys upstairs or the lawn guys tromping around her front yard, she left her things for a moment and went straight to open the gate herself.
The man at the gate hopped out of his truck and held his hand out in greeting, forward in a way that immediately put her on guard.
“Hi there, ma’am, the name’s Jon, your husband reached out about solar panels?”
“Hm? You must have the wrong place,” Grace said, not yet taking his hand.
“501? I don’t think so– ah, sir!” he called and brushed right past her to approach JK. “I believe you had some questions about solar panels? I’m happy to talk to you about our program and–”
“Who are you?” JK asked, then quickly amended, “I didn’t talk to anyone about anything.”
“That’s all right, since I’m in the neighborhood and I understand you recently bought the property, I’d be happy to talk to you about–”
“Ah, no. That lady you just blew off owns this place. I’m just here to pump and strip.”
Grace choked again, and coughed into her hand to hide her laugh. She didn’t know what was funnier, JK’s easy deferment to her in the face of such bold sexism, his repetition of her egregious verbal slip earlier, his addition to make it worse, or the fact he did not seem to have done it on purpose. He looked immediately regretful and reached up to scratch the back of his head, his grimace with a shade of apology.
“I’m just the pool guy,” he clarified, as this Jon turned to her with his own shades of regret.
“Sorry, I believe even if I need solar, it won’t be with–” She leaned to read the company name off his truck. “You can leave now, goodbye.”
Jon tried to stammer his way through an apology but Grace was over men’s shitty apologies. After her sharper, “Leave my property now,” he fled.
“A day in the life of a woman calling the shots,” she murmured as she headed back to the cabinets.
“Hey I’m just flattered he thought anything about me looks like a potential owner of this place,” JK laughed.
“What does that mean?”
“I think it means he’s more sexist than racist?”
Grace didn’t suppress the laugh this time. It was a smart observation. It hadn’t occurred to her that JK would look any less an owner of this place than she did right now other than the fact he looked so young, since both were in a similar state of sweaty filth.
“Guess he thought I’m the mother-in-law?”
“Come on, you aren’t that old. I mean–”
“Not that old!” she repeated with a laugh. “Thanks, JK. You’re so charming.”
“I just meant… I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbled. “I don’t even know how old you are… I don’t think you’re that old…”
She decided not to tell him, whether he was asking or not. It didn’t seem like something he needed to know. Information not relevant to pumping and stripping.
“Ready for a new CD?” he asked suddenly, overly loud. “We’ll go back further in time– not because you’re old! But just because… uh… let me see what I’ve got, have you heard of Red Hot Chili Peppers?”
“Oh come, JK, I’m not a total idiot. Everyone’s heard of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
“Ok ok, I didn’t mean to insult you. This is a safe space for your musical education. What about… Linkin Park? Kings of Leon? Avenged Sevenfold? Rise Against? I was listening to that on the other day… ah, maybe that’s a little too…”
“A little too what?” she glowered, crossing her arms and following him to the console and his open CD book beside it. “If you say too young–”
“Too angry,” he clarified.
“Hm…” She didn’t really know what he meant, but suspected it might mean the music was loud and hard and shouty. She probably wouldn’t like it. But her curiosity was piqued that he’d been listening to it on the way over –because he was angry too, or just because he liked it? She wanted to know what he’d been listening to. It was interesting learning about the music he liked. Young people. Being married to Tim had made her old, and she wanted to reclaim some of her youth. She wasn’t that old! “Let’s give it a try.”
“Ok, if you don’t like it, I can change it.”
“I’m going through a rather unpleasant divorce right now. Angry might be just my flavor.”
“Ah, sorry to hear that. I mean that it’s unpleasant, not that you’re getting divorced.”
She realized she shouldn’t have said that. And he probably shouldn’t have said that either, and now looked as uncomfortable as she’d felt. The line felt weird right now, because he knew this about her, and they’d known each other a while, but he was young and hired help and just being friendly –but Grace wasn’t sure a man and woman so many years apart could actually be friends, so there had to be some line of professionalism in there somewhere. The thought of accidentally crossing the line and making this nice guy uncomfortable actually sickened her. She didn’t want to be some gross older predatory woman. She wasn’t actually a cougar!
“Whatever you want to listen to is fine,” she insisted, and scurried back to the cabinets. He joined again a moment later as intense electric guitar roared around the patio. It was definitely a different vibe. She looked up just in time to see one of the carpet guys stick his head out the window and make a rock symbol with his hand. JK returned the gesture while Grace laughed.
Well, as long as the men working on her house were all happy. And hey, the beat was really good, and there was a melody that was actually really nice to listen to even if she couldn’t quite catch all the words. The drums were fast. She wondered if JK could play that kind of thing, and what he looked like–
Nope. She only meant it as an innocent curiosity, but she wouldn’t indulge even that. He was being incredibly kind helping her with the cabinets now, and that would be that. Not to mention a small part of her still worried he was going to flood her house away. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about and she’d never had an issue with his work before, but could he really know so much while he was so young? It was very impressive to be that knowledgeable at his age…
“Oh wait, I’ve heard this,” she realized with surprise. “A long time ago, I think…”
“See? You know more than you think you do.”
“I sure hope so. We’ll see if you still think that when I start sanding these cabinet doors. And before you ask: yes, I’ve done it before… a long time ago.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” he insisted. “I would never underestimate you.”
“Thanks, JK. That’s really kind of you to say.”
He nodded but the words from his mouth next were song lyrics, as strong and steady and pleasant to listen to as the professional voice on the CD. He seemed really good at it, singing. That was crazy to her that he wasn’t even the band’s singer. He must just be really gifted at music. She was very, very much not. He seemed to have such talent, she wondered if he only sang this hard, fast style or if he could do slower too.
Singing! She was thinking about singing! She hadn’t had any issue with these kinds of thoughts a single day of her divorce so far. Was it a good sign something inside her was healing, or waking up, or whatever? Well she was certainly not going to put poor young JK in the middle of whatever divorcee sexual rebirth was stirring inside of her! Maybe it was just hormonal; she was ovulating or something. Awkward.
“Miss, you want to see…?” Jacob the lawn guy motioned to her from across the driveway, like he didn’t want to interrupt. He wanted to ask her preference on something. He was kind too, like JK, even if he wasn’t great at being on time. But she believed he was going to do good work. She thought the carpets were going to look good upstairs. She was doing ok, finding the people to do a good job of the things she couldn’t or didn’t want to, doing a good job of the things she wanted to try. And sometimes help came in surprising places, like a pool guy who helped her strip cabinet doors while he pumped her pool.
Literally. A literal pool being pumped dry.
Good lord.
Chapter Three | Masterlist | Chapter Five
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Being Luffy's Stray (Version B)
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- No one knew you were there, not until they had to fight Klahadore, which was annoying to no end
- You never liked him or his crew which is why you watched as the Straw hats fought, tail flicking when you heard the sounds of the house becoming more and more damaged
- You couldn't interfere though, if others found out, namely the demon pirate hunter himself, you might be done for
- Luffy happily pet you when you finally appeared
"You were worried about a cat?" Nami asks.
"Not really," he scratches your chin. "I know she can handle herself."
"You're weird, you know that," Usopp tells him.
The rubber man shrugs.
- After that, you were hoping nothing else would happen, you'd like to be able to enjoy a day without fighting anyone
- Oh, how life is a bitch and throws a curveball your way
- You woke up and found yourself in fog, but decide to go back to your nap before you clawed someone
- The next thing you know, you're in a restaurant
"Welcome to the shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji, what can I get you?"
You meow at him without realizing it, if you were in your human form, you'd be blushing
"I'm sorry but we cannot allow pets in here but since the old man is busy, I'll let it slide," he smirks at the rubber man.
You purr as a thank you.
- And, then the captain makes the biggest mistake ever and tries to do an iou instead of paying which earns him a non-paying job as a dish washer
"Shouldn't you leave her on the boat? I don't think the kitchen is a very safe or sanitary environment for a cat," Nami tells him.
Luffy shrugs. "Not much they can do after hours, right?"
"Luffy."
"Fine."
- You snuck out to check on him, watching as they helped a drifting pirate
- Luffy smiles when he notices you hanging in the shadows
- Your paws running across the floor alert the chef
"You found us."
You pause, wondering if he knows who you are but realize he's talking as if you're the rubber man's pet
He bends down, one knee on the ground with one arm resting on his bent knee as he holds out a piece of meat for you, letting you take your time coming to him
You sniff, making sure he's not trying to kill you
- Thus, the start of an interesting relationship between you two
- The real kicker was when everyone found out the secret only Luffy knew about, and it was only because Arlong and his crew showed up
- After kicking the chef into a table, scaring the bejesus out of Usopp, and pushing Luffy into a wall
- Let's just say, they had it coming
- You run from kitchen door, using the toppled table as leverage, shifting midair to kick Arlong in his abdomen
"Don't mess with my friends."
"There she is the dead cat back again." He smirks, "and here I thought I'd killed you."
"Well, you know a cats got nine lives and I'd never give one to you."
- Luffy sends you away
- You take care of the other two, literally kicking them out (or at least, close to the door)
- You run over to Usopp and Sanji
"So, you're the cat?"
You stare you. "Does it look like it's the right opportunity to ask that?"
He chuckles, groaning soon after.
You roll your eyes and haul them up off the stairs by the collar of their shirts.
Usopp whines the whole way
- The real interesting thing was when you all found yourself fighting Arlong's pirates
- You didn't plan on shifting into something bigger, but it was necessary
- Usopp ran to the side when he saw you, a large maroon jaguar running towards him (but not aiming for him)
- Zoro jumps beside you, using his katana to take out the fishman trying to grab your hind leg. "Glad to see you decided to join."
"Shouldn’t you be on bed rest?"
"Someone’s gotta watch Luffy's back."
- You launch yourself across the way, clawing a fishman trying to punch the chef only for him to save himself
He turns around, smirking down at you, "I don't want such a gorgeous feline like yourself to ruin your claws."
"Don't flatter yourself, I'd never break a claw on any one of these guys."
- The building collapses and you change back into your human form, just in time for Nami to hug you (and you give Sanji a hug, so he got one too)
- You're just happy it's all over even though there was a slight mishap regarding Luffy’s grandpa
- After you all said your dreams, that's when the real adventure began
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Memoir of an Albatross
Chapter 3 - Selling One's Soul
[1] [2] [3] [4]
(Art by Loquatic)
Chapter Description: Years after that traumatic day, Albatross finds himself preoccupied with his thoughts in the library. Life, while not certainly great, could be a lot worse. Princess Lagoon seems to believe otherwise.
Animus magic: a concept that seems far too mystical and powerful to be a reality, and yet here we are, living among dragons with endless potential. Spellcasters. Gods with grand, sacred blood in their veins. Reality bends to their will. At a mere thought, a mere enchantment, they can do anything.
And that terrified Albatross. He was afraid. He knew what it– what he was capable of.
Nothing had been the same since the incident on the beach. A few minutes after Albatross had saved Sapphire, royal guards swooped down to investigate. They saw the blood-stained water and found the dragonets there. Had he hesitated, Sapphire would've bled out entirely before they arrived.
Even if she survived, she was gone. For four years, he only had one sister. She was sent off to a cave far off in the corner of the Sea Kingdom. Hidden. A shameful secret forever locked away.
Sapphire since the incident was rendered "useless" in the eyes of her parents. She couldn't write anymore. She couldn't fight or defend herself as she needed assistance to hold spears. Since it happened, she had been isolating herself and lashing out more. Queen Gannet insisted that it was her going mad. That Albatross harming her in such a violent and drastic way had destroyed her mind.
He remembered watching Sapphire when she had an outburst. Her eyes held a look he knew all too well. She was lucid. Sane. She was afraid. Scared. Full of spite and anger at her circumstances. She was trying to cope.
But, she was a liability to the kingdom in their mother's eyes. And now she's gone.
The story that their parents have been telling the masses is that Sapphire had an incident with a shark. They knew the truth. But, they couldn't tell the public. That would have tainted their reputation. Imagine what the dragons, SeaWings and other tribes alike, would have thought. The SeaWings have found their animus, but it was discovered through mutilating another. It would have tainted their perfect reputation, the image that their mother, Queen Gannet, had built.
Because of Albatross, he had ruined Sapphire's life. She would've become queen. She would've lived a nice, happy life. All because he overreacted. She probably didn't mean it when she said all those things. She was playing around. Trying to scare him. She didn't mean it. It's...it's all his fault.
He had since then buried himself in research into animus magic. It was the one thing he could do. These days, he found himself in the complicated hallways of the Deep Palace library, sifting through scroll after scroll. The guards gave him strange looks. Most weren't aware of the truth either. They had only known the fabricated lie that Queen Gannet told everyone. He couldn't care less. He needed to learn more about this curse of his.
Frustratingly enough, the scrolls said little about it other than surface-level observations and myths. Magic powers that could be passed on through generations. The only tribes who currently have their magic are the SandWings and IceWings, as the SkyWings had genocided their own animi many moons ago. Rightfully fearful of what they could do.
The magic seemed limitless. Animi could transmute rocks into precious gemstones, manipulate the minds of others, and hypothetically cataclysmic destruction. For as much as the IceWings love to flaunt their glorious wall built from little more than the imagination and will of an animus, there were just as many tales of mad animus dragons. Ones who caused an upheaval in the Sky Kingdom. Ones who've brought chaos.
And here was little Albatross, who was still too scared to look at his talons for fear that the blood of Sapphire was still stained on them.
He refused to use his magic since that day. Constantly he was trying to regulate and control his thoughts. Even thinking about casing a spell would do it. He was anxious that one day he would have one stray thought, get caught up in his own emotions when all of a sudden boom! The whole palace- the whole world explodes. Would it be possible? Probably given that there doesn't seem to be any rules or restraints for this magic.
The only drawbacks of animus magic were two things: a myth about the magic draining the soul of the user, corrupting them and twisting them into some evil, horrid version of themselves, and another tale of animi losing physical parts of themselves. Some sort of physical impairment. They're rare and only happen to the ones who use their magic the most, however.
Albatross already decided that he would never use his magic again for the rest of his life. There was no amount of convincing somebody could put him through to make him. Absolutely nothing.
Then, from behind him, he heard the sound of shifting water.
Maybe he was just more jumpy since the incident, but he could've sworn his hearing had gotten better. Even if it was a dead silent room, he could almost always make out some sort of white noise. The movement of fish around him. The heavy pressure of the water. Even his own heartbeat and breathing.
He heard that noise loud and clear; so much so that he knew exactly who it was.
Albatross. The bright glow of Lagoon's bioluminescent scales lit up in the corner of his eye. Being underwater, their vocal cords can't exactly work. Brilliantly enough, they had a solution for this. Using their scales, they could light up certain parts of their body, communicating in a language dubbed "aquatic".
Albatross was never particularly gifted with it– his scales never quite lit up as well as the average SeaWing– but it worked in a pinch. Hopefully whatever Lagoon wanted to say was quick. Some half-hearted jest tossed his way before swimming back with her tail between her legs.
He turned to face her, still clutching his scroll. Do you need something? He flashed his neck and tail scales.
Was I interrupting you? Her response was explicitly passive-aggressive.
No, I-
It doesn't matter anyway. She waved her talons, dismissing him. We have a bigger problem.
...we do?
Yes! Of course, you kelp-brained- She paused, collecting herself. Sorry. I'm rather emotional.
Aren't you always?
Don't joke right now, this is serious! It's about Sapphire. Her scales dimmed at that last part.
His eyes widened. What do you mean?
You can't tell me you agree with what happened to her, right?
He looked down at his claws. A feeling of guilt washed over him. No, I don't.
Obviously, yeah. It's the right way to feel about it.
And you just wanted to make sure I was feeling the 'right way' about it? he asked.
Lagoon hesitated. Her eyes looked past him. Of course not! Don't be ridiculous. I'm only having a conversation with you. Why would you think of me like that?
I wasn't! Just... Albatross rubbed his eyes. Get to the point. Please.
Sapphire doesn't deserve this. Lagoon began to pace back and forth. How heartless could our parents be?! Sapphire isn't mad. You and I both know this. She was only hurt by you cutting off all of her claws. She was scared because of it. Because of it, now she's on some distant island. She glanced back at Albatross. You know exactly what this is.
Albatross blinked.
Tyranny! Lagoon answered for him. This is exactly the sort of thing that we learned about in ruling lessons. Learning from the horrible monarchs of the past and how their mistakes eventually led to their downfall. Being too reckless with orders, exploiting their own citizens for personal benefit, making random and rash decisions that end up harming the tribe in the end, you know all that stuff.
No, I don't. I'm a prince. I don't take these lessons.
Well, perhaps you should. Even if you'll never be king, you're still royalty. Perhaps when I'm queen I'll implement it as a new rule.
He scoffed. Yeah, in a couple decades that is.
Lagoon cracked a cocky smirk like she had been waiting for him to say it. Well, what if we didn't have to wait that long?
What? Wait. Wait... No, nononono, you aren't thinking it, are you? You are. You definitely are.
Lagoon nodded. C'mon, brother! All I have to do is challenge her to the throne, win, and then we can get her back.
You're only six years old! Not even an adult yet!
Uh-huh, and?
You're suggesting that you kill our mother, Lagoon.
Never in a million years had Albatross thought he would see a dragon challenge the throne, much less Lagoon. And yet, he wasn't terribly surprised to see her suggest it.
Lagoon detested Queen Gannet the moment she hatched from the egg. Hushed whispers that only grew more intense and angry as the years went on. Critical of every tiny choice she made, insisting that, had she been in the same position, she would've gone for the other, "better" option.
Albatross found it to be petty garbled nonsense when he was younger. He saw it as little more than Lagoon being haughty and believing herself to be more intelligent and proper than their mother. Her ego blinded her. Their mother was only a dragon after all. Prone to the same mistakes as anybody else. He felt pity when she was forced with a tough decision while Lagoon snorted and went on about how she obviously should have done something else.
These days though? He was upset at Queen Gannet. Not angry per se– he hated the idea of feeling such a strong, malicious emotion with his capabilities– but rather solemn disapproval. Denial and distraught that she could do such a thing to Sapphire. She was scared! She was dealing with trauma from that awful day.
He knew she wasn't right to rule the moment she abandoned Sapphire. Exiled her to isolation. And for what? Appearances? Shame? Fear that every dragon on Pyrrhia would look down on her for allowing her own deformed son to mutilate the heir to her throne? Whatever it may be, he couldn't forgive her.
But he couldn't imagine Lagoon being any better. He didn't need to consult a NightWing prophet to see that.
Hellloooooo? Lagoon flashed her scales exceedingly bright. Am I boring you or what?
Albatross shook his head. Sorry, I was thinking about things.
Like what, exactly? She snorted.
That this is a terrible idea.
What?! Lagoon's scales were harsh. They agitated Albatross's eyes. What do you mean?
You're...six! You're young! How could you even suggest that?
Look. Lagoon took a deep breath. What is the alternative?
He paused. We...wait another three decades? Maybe four? Five?
Exactly! That's the issue! Our mother needs to be taken out.
Why? Why does she need to?
Lagoon narrowed her eyes. Her scales brightened. Don't kid yourself here, brother. You KNOW what she's done. She's terrible! Awful! By the tides, she's the worst queen this kingdom has seen. Her relations with the SkyWings and MudWings are atrocious. Don't even get me started on the RainWings. If she is in power for another year, given how things are, we'll be at war.
That's ridiculous, Lagoon.
Is it? She snapped. Is it really? Look. It's simply awful. I need your help. I know I'm weak, but I know I will be a better ruler than our mother. She's erratic and impulsive. Me? I'm calm. Collected. She noticed Albatross's scales begin to light up. And don't you dare accuse me of not being that! You know I've changed since we were dragonets.
He stayed silent.
Not to also mention that very incident itself... Moons above, if the public knew about what our mother had done to our sister, our very own Princess Sapphire, she'd been dragged out into the streets and gutted. She's monstrous. For that reason alone, she should be dead.
I don't know...
Albatross. You of all dragons should know what it feels. You were the one who did this to her.
He visibly flinched. Any mention of that event always sent a shock through his system. Even if the moment had long since passed, those memories were fresh in his mind. He couldn't get those screams and all that blood out of his head.
So, what will you do? Lagoon asked. Are you just going to stand there and let our tyrannical mother continue her oppressive rule, or will you help me? The choice is pretty simple to me. Either be useless while your sister rots away because of what you've done to her, or at least try to make up for it by killing her. Once I'm queen, I'll do everything in my power to bring her back. I promise.
He looked up into her eyes. You promise?
She grinned. Of course.
He exhaled. Fine. What do you need?
Lagoon's barely contained excitement showed through her scales and swishing tail. Okay, okay. I just need you to enchant...this! She pulled off a pearl bracelet. Enchant this to make it so that I will win any battle I face against with no real harm done to my body. She placed it into Albatross's talons.
He looked at the string of pearls. They glistened in the low lighting. I'm not so sure about this... A pit formed in his stomach. It had been so long since he last used it. He had vowed never to again.
Oh come on! One little spell won't hurt! After this, no more magic, okay?
Albatross clenched his talons into a fist. He repeated the exact spell that Lagoon had told him. She would win any battle with little damage done to her.
The tips of his claws tingled as he made the spell. The bracelet carried a new energy to it, one that he felt uncomfortable to be near. Animus enchantments tended to have that effect, wherein anything that had a spell on it held an ominous and strange aura of wrongness. This time, it was faint.
He pawed it off to Lagoon. There. Take it. It's done.
How do I know you've done it?
I have. Just go. I don't want to see what happens. Just...tell your guards to spread the message of her death once it happens. He turned back to the scrolls. I'd rather not see for myself what happens.
Lagoon dipped her head. You have my word. Thank you, Albatross. She smiled as she swam off.
Albatross watched as she disappeared back into the palace. He felt positively terrible. His scales felt slimy and uncomfortable to be in. How could he do something like that? Once before, he had used his magic to almost kill Sapphire. Now? He's using it to kill his very own mother. How could he do that?
...well, there was the slight, tiny chance that he would be redeemed. That, maybe, this was the last time he would ever use it. That, soon enough, things would return to some sort of normalcy. He would be treated like a normal dragon, animus magic or not. That was what he had hoped for the future. It must be what happens.
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Blue by Billie Eilish and how it fits Azula perfectly
I'm sure people have talked about this already, but i just wanted to add my two cents to it. (english is not my first language so if i phrase some stuff a bit weird feel free to ask or correct me)
spoilers for the comic "Azula in the spirit temple" !!
in my opinion the lyrics of this song simply SCREAM azula, and here's why.
the first chorus:
azula tries to "live in black and white", as in pretends to know what is right and what is wrong. she believes in her father's words, the "white", and considers everyone who left her or dishonors the fire nation bad, "the black". but it doesn't feel right, even to her. even if it seemed like she thought that what her father did to zuko was right, the perfect reality that she dreamed of that was depicted in the comics shows zuko without a scar and her mother standing beside her father. even iroh is there with them despite her displaying dislike towards him throughout the whole show. additionally, they tell her things she thinks she should have achieved based on the values that her father posed on her, again: the "white". she misses them and she feels betrayed, but she tries her hardest to pretend like it's not like that, for example in the beach episode where she says her mother was right to call her a monster and that she's completely okay with that. she's in fact not over her mother. she feels "blue". stuck between believing her father and at the same time wanting ursa and zuko back.
the second chorus:
the phrase "but i'm not what you need" shows her insecurities. she saw the way ursa looked at her compared to how she looked at zuko. no matter what she did, ursa never seemed to be satisfied with her. she always got sent away or chastised. iroh never cared to consider what she might like as a gift, he just got her a doll because he probably thought it's what all girls want. but zuko got a really nice knife. she felt unneeded by ursa and iroh so she turned to her father.
now the verses.
1)
by logic, zuko and azula should be similar in ambitions and beliefs. they grew up in the same family after all and therefore also should have been treated similarly. for example they should both receive their mother's love and attention, but only zuko seemed to get it. zuko should have similar abilities to hers, but she was always ahead of him. she didn't understand what ursa saw in zuko that she didn't have and "lied".
in the comics azula states that she actually became aware of the fact that ozai used her as a "deadly fire bending weapon". she was a "bird in a cage". she didn't have anyone to rely on but the father that praised her skills, so she tried her best for him after being abandoned by her mother. she wanted to be protected too, but ultimately only zuko got that luxury.
2)
like i said before, since azula didn't have a support system like zuko, she didn't have a choice but to cling onto ozai. ozai clearly never knew what sympathy was, nor did he ever act like an actual father. he raised azula to be cold and deadly, so much so that she was even smarter with war strategy than him or iroh. she managed to take over ba sing se after all. azula herself lacked sympathy too. she had learned that trust was weakness and being feared was strength.
3)
here i can see the first part being said by zuko, he doesn't hate azula and he knows she did what she did because of their father but at the same time he was scared of her. at the point of the series he deemed her to be beyond saving and tried to avoid her together with iroh, then later chose to fight her in an agni kai without even trying to reason with her.
the other half of this part is pretty much self explanatory. she was clearly a victim who succumbed to her father's ideals due to being abandoned by her mother.
4)
unlike zuko, azula was "blameless" in the eyes of fire nation ideals. she was a prodigy and did what was expected of her. perfection was everything to her.
nonetheless they are both victims of ozai, just with different outcomes. they both grew up to be famous, just in different ways.
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woooo you made it to the end!!! thank you to whoever read my little rant here, i just wanted to talk about this since i've been thinking about it every time i listen to the song. i'd love to hear other people's opinion on this so feel free to comment whether you agree or you think what i wrote up is absolute bullshit lmfao
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Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?
11. Osaka Trip - Abducted
Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Plantonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother Reader
Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed
Masterlist | Previous / Next |
If I could turn back time
If I could find a way
And you'd stay
Sachiko shirked loudly—gaining looks of confusion and judgment from the by passing people in the shopping district—dropping her shopping bags to the ground in shock and gasping like a fish, even though they don't need to, for air.
Droving with both hands through her hair, clutching it, Sachiko turned her head in every direction—spinning herself around—and tried to find something, someone—searching for you.
But you are nowhere to be seen, because you're gone. Gone. You're gone.
For Sachiko it felt as time stood still—freezing her in the spot where she was standing—while the surroundings of hers continued to move on as if nothing had happened—as if the crime, which just occurred in front of everyone, didn't caused a notice and disturbance in the daily routine of living flow.
Taking a sharp inhale of breath, Sachiko felt breathless. She only had turned around—some sign had catches her eyes and you were still right beside her—for a mere few seconds and when she turned back, to tell you about that sign—which was local shop—you weren't there.
Is this—the way her chest tightens, so painfully she wanted to cry out, coldness—despite the mildly warm temperatures today—sweeping through her body and bringing her bend into a shudder—how a Panic attack feels like?
Sachiko couldn't tell, wouldn't know, as she never had experienced such and only being a comforter for you—when you had them.
Taking out her phone, cursing loudly when it slipped from her—shaking and clammy—hands and fall down onto the pavement, Sachiko felt—once she had picked up her phone again—lost to whom she has to call.
Sachiko's finger hovered over Shinichi's—old and deactivated—number, wanting to call him—the first person which popped up in her mind instantly—as Shinichi is (or had been) after all your emergency contact.
But that's an impossible thing to do now as Shinichi is gone as well.
Sachiko slapped herself against her forehead more than once, rubbing her face—staying crouched down and inhaling deeply the air, she still felt she didn't quite have, again.
Stupid, stupid, absolutely stupid, Sachiko thought—berating herself for forgetting about the fact that Shinichi is gone, but wanting to call him anyways.
Like, as if the automatic voicemail of; We apologise, but this number is currently not available anymore—would help in such, any, situation and neither would make it Shinichi magically appear back.
»Dumb wishful thinking« she scoffed in a huff, feeling ashamed afterwards for such thoughts and berates herself again, because such wishful thoughts are helping you to pull through hard days—the ones where you want to just lay in bed forever and giving everything and yourself up.
So Sachiko called Heiji, despite him being at a crime scene currently—because honestly, it's like a curse or something, whenever they went somewhere there always seemed to be a murdering happen—but she couldn't care less about this, as the Inspectors and officers are capable enough to solve this on their own, without Heiji's help.
Finding and freeing you—because Sachiko was absolutely sure that Daiki had kidnapped you—and it was a fear she knew would come true eventually—was top priority now and Sachiko knew that Heiji was the only person who would be able to save you.
~~~
There weren't many moments in times, where Conan thought he had failed. Nor had he many regrets to think about.
But when Heiji told how Sachiko had called and telling him in upcoming panic—sounding close to crying, holding back choking sobs—you're gone, disappeared so suddenly in board daylight—under eyes of many "witnesses"—and that she, in absolutely certainty, believes Daiki had taken you—Conan felt like a failure.
Failure. Conan had failed miserably as your older brother, who promised you—once ago, during your first suicidal attempt—to never leave you alone and behind in your darkest times of need—and to always protect you from the dangers and evil of this world.
But look! Here is he, failing not only once but twice—trice even, when he couldn't save Narumi—and breaking promises after another, building a path of hurtful lies for you to walk on. Honestly, you deserve someone far better than him as your brother.
It was foolish to think, that they might be able to call you, but even the simplest thing to do—in cases like these, calling you even though the chance stood high that your phone had been already destroyed—could might lead to an better outcome of the situation.
When it ringed and someone picked up the line, they hoped it was you—but when Daiki's voice rung out, the hope extinguished.
„Oh, it's the brat calling. C'mon dear, tell them Goodbye.“
„Fuck off, Asshole.“
A clash, a thud and a short gaps from you—and the line went dead afterwards.
»What now? Osaka is big and we can't search through the whole city and its landscape, without a sort of fixpoint to begin with.....« said Heiji, gnawing at his lower lip and looking at Conan.
The bubble of panic didn't came spiking up in one sudden rush—like how Sachiko must had experienced it firsthand now—and neither did it came slow rising—how for Conan it was, whose eyes shone with ridden guilt and although masking it professionally like a actor, starting to crack under its slowing crawling pressure—for Heiji.
Of course Heiji is worried about you, he always will be—after all you're his boyfriend and worrying about ones partner and the ones you love is a natural feeling to do—but Heiji is also a Detective and haywire emotions wouldn't help in any situation nor does it any good.
Conan knows this as well—is the one who believes, participate, the most in this sort of mindset—but sometimes a once rational, logical, mind and heart can make a spin into the irrational side of the humane
There was also the crucial fact—which is the reason why Heiji doesn't feel the heart aching panic just yet—that everyone seemed to forget that you weren't just a mere helpless person.
You could defend yourself with ease, were cable of fighting—with your strength of Qing Mado—against Adults and opponents twice your age and size.
But Heiji himself seems to forget—while knowing of the information above—that there a tools out there which could make you helpless and unable to defend.
»My Radar Glasses!« exclaimed Conan
»Huh? When did ya chip [Name]?«
»Not him, but his phone-keychain«
Conan was getting restless he's aware, knowing well that his idea might be just a glimpse into the blue of nothing, but what else are they supposed to do?
They had to give it a try, even when it would lead into a dead end. Just sitting around and waiting wouldn't do anything, wasn't going to help you!
Conan couldn't give up, especially not on you—his precious little brother, who he vowed to protect.
~~~
Whatever was on their side—be it luck, fate or destiny, fortunas generosity or simply Daiki's own dumbness—they hoped it's gonna last till you are found.
When the glasses did indeed pick up a low signal of yours, Conan and Heiji went to the location as fast as possible.
Once there, in an alley—near the outskirts area, with soon to build houses and buildings and the ones getting destroyed—all they had found was your phone—still in tact, but useless now. Then again, this alone could lead to you—as it minimise the area, distance and possibility of where you could be.
Conan wouldn't give up and he hoped neither would you.
I'll keep finding, finding you
Right through hell and heaven
And in all dimensions
I'll keep finding, finding you
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