#it is not middle class woman and rich guy

[ehlnofay]

sorry but apropos of nothing I am pondering pride and prejudice once again (regular occurence). saw someone describe elizabeth bennet as "middle class". if the internet inexplicably vanishes in the next few hours it's because I blew it up

[dandelions-143]

Secrets

Hyunjin Masterlist

For Other Members Masterlist

Pairing: non Idol, Rich, Bad Boy Hyunjin x Mid/Plus size, College student, Fem! Reader.

Word Count: 2670k

Warnings: Sexual content and descriptions, Body image issues, Infidelity, Alcohol consumption, Drug use (mention of marijuana), Emotional manipulation,Trust issues in relationships

Summary: Established relationship between Y/n and Hyunjin but it’s technically a secret. What happens when Hyunjin is pretty much caught kissing someone else?

A/N: THIS ONES A LITTLE DEEP…The bad boy series I’ve been slowly writing does cross over here and there. This party that Hyunjin attends is the same one from Do It For Me but, y/n from that story is a completely different y/n than this one. Each member will get there own little story with crossovers. Currently working on a playlist for this series so stay tuned! Also if you have already read this just ignore!! Adding all saved tags to all of my works. If you wish to no longer be tagged just let me know.

You had just gotten home from your last class of the week. You dropped your heavy bag full of art history books by the door of your dark apartment. As the door closed, you kicked off your shoes and began to unzip your jacket. You were so tired from a full day of classes at university that you didn't care about leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you made your way to the bathroom.

You were in desperate need of a hot bath to relax and unwind. By the time you flipped on the bathroom lights, you were standing in nothing but your cute little Hello Kitty panties—a gift from your grandmother who still seemed to think you were 12.

"Cute." A velvety voice sliced through the silence of your apartment, making you jump nearly out of your skin.

You instantly covered your breasts as you turned around to see who had broken into your apartment. When your wide, terrified eyes met his dark and brooding stare, you let out a loud sigh of relief. "Hyunjin! You scared me to death!" A soft giggle escaped your now smiling lips, but you still kept your hands over your exposed breasts.

Hyunjin walked over to you, allowing you to really take him in. He wore dark jeans with rips in them, a black and blue shirt with a matching beanie. His long fingers were adorned with his signature silver rings. "I like these," he said as he playfully slipped a finger into the waistband of your panties and tugged at them gently. "Although they would look so much better on the floor."

You blushed and stepped back a little, trying to shield your half-naked body from his intense gaze. You couldn't help but be shy around him, even though you two had been together for months now and were well past the point of seeing one another naked for the first time. Hyunjin was perfect to you—tall and lean, with beautiful lips and long hair. And you... well... you were soft and thicker in the middle than you would like to be.

You had dimples on the back of your thighs and faint stretch marks here and there. In your mind, you were not the type of girl a guy like Hyunjin would ever want. So when he wanted to be intimate, you got bashful and asked to have the lights low or off completely.

Hyunjin stood there for a minute, and you could see the wheels in his head turning. "What?" you asked softly. Hyunjin stepped closer to you and wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "Honey, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the chance to know." Hyunjin ran his hands soothingly up and down your back for a while.

He kissed the top of your head, and then his hands began to wander. He spread his large hands over the plump swell of your ass and gripped you hard. "I love this ass." He moved his hands around to your curvy hips and pulled you into him. Your hips met his, and your bodies seemed to fit so well together. "I love these hips."

Hyunjin lazily dragged his hands up your soft stomach to pull your hands away from your breasts. You reluctantly let your arms fall to your sides, and his hands cupped them, squeezing and playing gently with your nipples. "I fucking love your tits," he groaned and leaned down to leave soft, open-mouthed kisses around your nipple before taking it between his pretty lips, sucking gently.

Your hands tugged off his beanie and slipped seamlessly through his long hair as a soft sigh escaped your mouth. His eyes stayed on your face the entire time. Once he gave a little love to your other breast, he slowly knelt down in front of you and began to kiss up your thigh. His warm tongue gently lapped at your soft skin. "Mmm, and these thighs—you could smother me with them. I would die a happy man."

You couldn't help but giggle at his absurd words, but Hyunjin only continued. He hooked his fingers into the sides of your Hello Kitty panties and pulled them down. "And your pussy..." He leaned in, kissing the lips of your now very wet sex. "It's so pretty and pink, so warm, soft, and tight. Just perfect for me." He gazed at you as if admiring a work of art, and in that moment, you allowed yourself to be seen.

He made you feel truly beautiful—the way he touched you, spoke about you, and looked at you. Hyunjin stood up and once again pulled you close, engulfing you in his arms. "Let's take a bath, yeah?" he said simply before kissing your lips a few times.

Once the bath was drawn, you watched as Hyunjin undressed. He was lean and muscular in all the right places, with a few small tattoos scattered across his skin. His erection stood proud between his muscular thighs. Hyunjin stepped in first and sat down, holding out his hand to help you into the bath as well. "Face me?" he asked, and you complied, settling onto his thighs.

You could feel the twitch of his cock resting against your lower stomach. Hyunjin's hands rested on your thighs before moving up to your hips, pulling you closer. He dipped his head, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss started slow and sweet, just how you liked it. Hyunjin seemed to know all your preferences.

His wet tongue swiped across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You parted your lips without hesitation, allowing his tongue to tangle with yours. The only sounds were the gentle sloshing of bathwater and the soft, wet noises of your deep kisses.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, Hyunjin's gaze was filled with need. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your breasts and gripping your thighs. "I want you so bad, y/n," he breathed against your lips. "Fuck me, baby..." His velvety voice cut through the silence as his strong hands lifted you up.

Hyunjin helped position you, his cock poised at your entrance. "Is this okay? I don't have protection," he asked cautiously. You always used protection, but at this moment, you couldn't care less. Your body craved him, needing every inch inside you. "I don't care, it's fine," you said hurriedly, gripping his broad shoulders as you sank down onto him.

You gasped loudly at how deep he was inside you. Hyunjin's unexpected whimper surprised you, but you found yourself loving it—he was usually so quiet in bed. You moved your hips in a circular motion, causing water to slosh out of the tub, but neither of you cared.

Eventually, you found a rhythm together, Hyunjin rolling his hips up to meet yours. Your arms wrapped firmly around his neck as you made love in an agonizingly slow way. It was sweet torture, both of you chasing that high but taking your time to savor every moment.

"God, you feel so good wrapped around me," Hyunjin murmured, his lips trailing from your chest to your neck. He peppered kisses and love bites across your breasts and collarbone. Your moans grew louder and deeper as your orgasm approached.

Hyunjin's breathy moans became more urgent and intense. His hands grew greedier, tugging and gripping at your wet skin. Your bodies slid smoothly against each other as you moved together. "Hyunjin... I'm going to cum," you whined, burying your face in his neck to muffle your sounds.

Hyunjin lifted your head, cupping your chin. "Look at me as you cum," he said, his lips parted and breathing heavy. You could tell he was close too, his thighs trembling beneath you. "Oh fuck... cum with me," you moaned as your orgasm hit you hard.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room as you clenched around him. You felt Hyunjin pulse inside you, his eyes rolling back and head tilting as his own release washed over him. "Fuck, y/n," he chanted your name until he was spent.

His head fell onto your chest, your arms loosely encircling him. "Baby... you're going to be the death of me," he said with a muffled laugh against your breast. "Like you said, at least you'd die a happy man," you teased. Hyunjin lifted his head and kissed your lips softly. "Hell yes, I would. I'm the happiest man on Earth right now."

After regaining your strength and cleaning up, you both took a shower together before deciding to fix a late supper. Hyunjin fetched water for you both, walking shamelessly around in nothing but his boxers. You were cooking some ramen in the kitchen, wearing his oversized shirt.

You two had been dating for a while, but despite spending so much time together, you had yet to meet his friends or family. He hadn't met yours either. You both had agreed to keep your relationship low-key, mainly due to your parents being difficult and having your entire life planned out for you. Hyunjin said he had his reasons as well, but as you stood in the kitchen, you couldn't recall him ever sharing those reasons.

"Babe, can I ask you something?" you called to him across the small space separating your kitchen from the living room.

"Anything," he replied, entering the kitchen with a smile. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close.

"Do you think maybe we could start telling people about us?" His eyes clouded at this question, and his hold on you loosened.

"I'd just like to do more than eat at my place," you continued. "I want to see where you live. I want to meet your friends and family. I actually think I'm ready for you to meet my parents too." You turned off the stove, drained the noodles, and placed them in separate bowls. Hyunjin watched you for a moment before speaking.

"Y/n, I'd love to go on dates with you, and we can do things anytime you want, but you don't want to meet my friends or family." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "They... they just aren't worthy of meeting someone as precious as you." He then flashed that sweet smile of his and pulled you close again, pecking your lips.

"I have some things to take care of on Saturday, but Sunday, let's go eat brunch and have a day out together. What do you say?" His eyes shone as he looked down at you. You melted instantly and nodded.

"Okay, we can go shopping, maybe see a movie," you suggested. As you two settled in to eat and spend the evening together, a nagging thought lingered in the back of your mind: why couldn't you meet his family and friends? Why couldn't you see that side of his life?

The next morning, sunlight filtered through your bedroom window, casting a golden glow over your face and gently rousing you from sleep. You reached out, finding Hyunjin's side of the bed empty and cold. With a small stretch, you crawled out of bed, memories of last night's intimacy bringing a smile to your face.

Slipping on Hyunjin's discarded shirt, you went in search of your lover. You found him on the balcony, a coffee mug on the small iron table beside him and a sketchpad in hand. The morning sun illuminated his features, making him look even more beautiful than usual. Your heart clenched as the thought "I love this man" passed through your mind, though you weren't ready to say those words aloud.

Hyunjin must have heard you approaching. As you slid your hands over his bare shoulders, he turned to kiss the side of your hand. "Mmm, how did you sleep?" he asked softly, looking up at you. Your eyes moved from his handsome face to the sketch he was drawing. "I slept really well. I see you didn't sleep that well," you replied, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

"I just have things on my mind. Nothing to worry about, though. Come here," he said, gently tugging you around the chair and onto his lap. You sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun rise higher and feeling its warmth. Hyunjin peppered tiny kisses on your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

"Are you getting hungry? Maybe we could go out for breakfast?" you asked. Just then, Hyunjin's phone rang, instantly distracting him. "Hold on, love," he said, gently moving you off his lap to take the call inside. You sighed heavily and glanced at his sketch—a very pretty woman, naked in her bed, curled up with twisted covers around her.

"Y/n," Hyunjin's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." He was buttoning his pants as he approached, hoodie in hand. "Really? How long will you be gone?" you asked, watching him with pleading eyes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but held back, not wanting to seem clingy. You followed him inside, watching as he put on his shoes and hoodie. "I'm not sure, baby. I know I'll be late. I'll call you to let you know if I'm coming over to stay again, okay?"

He finally looked at you properly as he ran his fingers through his messy black hair. Seeing your expression, his face softened. "Don't be upset. I still remember promising you a date tomorrow. You'll have me all day." Hyunjin pulled you close, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then your forehead. "I'll see you soon, my love." And with that, you watched him leave.

Hours passed since Hyunjin's departure. You reached out to friends, hoping to hang out, but everyone was busy. To distract yourself from boredom, you turned on music and cleaned your apartment. Throughout the day, you texted him several times and called once, but received no response.

As night fell, you sat on your couch, struggling to focus on assignments for your classes. Your mind kept wandering to thoughts of Hyunjin.

Where was he? Why was he always so secretive?

Just as your thoughts began to spiral, your phone lit up with your friend's name. You answered on the second ring. "Hey, Dea. How are you?"

"I'm good! Actually, I was calling to see if you'd want to go to a party tonight?" Her tone was hopeful. She knew parties weren't your thing—you'd rather visit an art museum than watch college kids act wild. "Umm... I... I don't know."

Dea huffed into the phone. "Oh, come on! You never have fun. You never go out. You're always with that mystery guy. Come hang out with me. I promise I won't get drunk, and if you end up having a really bad time, we can leave." You considered it for a moment, hearing her whisper "please" repeatedly under her breath. You couldn't help but smile at her childlike energy. "Okay, fine. Come pick me up and I'll go with you. But if you leave my side, I'm never hanging out with you again."

Dea squealed into the phone, making you jerk it away from your ear. "Yes! Okay, I promise you'll have a good time! See you soon." After hanging up, you started getting ready.

Not trying to impress anyone, you slipped on a pair of jeans and a simple beige tank top. You left your hair down and applied minimal makeup. Sandals to match your tank completed the look. Dea, on the other hand... When you opened your door to leave with her, she was fully put together in a classic little black dress, her makeup flawless and hair loosely curled around her face. She was tall, thin, and gorgeous.

"Come on, bestie!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you out the door.

On the way to the party, you learned that Dea's friend Minho—whom you'd only met once—had invited her. The event was being hosted by Minho's best friend, Chan. As you approached your destination, anxiety crept in; you didn't know any of these people.

It turned out Chan came from wealth. Dea pulled up to a mansion in a gated community, resembling a miniature White House. "Dea, what the fuck?" was all you could muster. She grinned widely, "I know, right? Minho said it was a big house, but damn... this guy must be loaded."

After parking and overcoming your initial awe, you followed Dea inside. The place was packed with bodies. "Come on, Y/n! Let's get a drink!" Dea linked arms with you, pulling you through the crowd. The air was hot and hazy with cigarette and weed smoke. People were dancing, shouting, or engaged in intimate acts—you even spotted a couple grinding against a wall.

You eventually found the drinks, manned by a cute guy with chubby cheeks and wavy brown hair that fell over his round eyes. "Two beers please!" you yelled over the music. He looked at you oddly. "This isn't a bar! Get it yourself!" he shouted back before turning to a long-haired blond guy. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed two cups and poured drinks for yourself and Dea.

"Here yo—" you began, but Dea had vanished. "Seriously!" Leaving the beer behind, you searched for your friend, determined to give her a piece of your mind when you found her.

You wandered through the massive house and even checked the backyard pool area. No luck. Deciding to head for the front door to call an Uber, you navigated the maze-like crowd of tipsy partygoers. In what appeared to be the living room, you finally spotted Dea dancing with a muscular dark-haired guy.

"You've got to be kidding me," you muttered, approaching her. But you froze, witnessing the worst sight imaginable.

There on the couch was your boyfriend, kissing a heavily tattooed girl. You felt faint, your heart pounding painfully. The music blared, but you couldn't hear it. As another guy pulled the girl off Hyunjin, his eyes met yours.

His dark brown gaze locked onto you. At first, you were paralyzed, but as he rushed towards you, your legs sprang into action. You pushed through the crowd, desperate to escape. At the front door, Hyunjin caught up, grabbing your arm. "Y/n! Please wait!"

You didn't pull away but kept moving, tugging in the opposite direction as Hyunjin tried to draw you closer. He gave up and followed you to Dea's car. "Y/n, just let me explain. That wasn't what it looked like." You whirled around, fixing him with tear-filled, angry eyes. "It wasn't? Then tell me, Hyunjin, what the hell was it?"

He stumbled over his words, "She's my best friend. The one I've mentioned from high school. She was only trying to make Chan jealous. I didn't even kiss her back." He reached for your hands, but you stepped away. "Don't." The simple word visibly hurt him, but you couldn't bear his touch.

Tears streamed down your face. "Okay, let's say I believe that. Why didn't you tell me about this party? Why didn't you invite me?" You hugged yourself, closing off. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me, Hyunjin? Am I not pretty enough to be seen with you like your so-called best friend?"

He inched forward, hands outstretched. "No, baby, God no! That's not... that's not it at all. I've told you how I feel about you." You pulled out your phone, "Actually, no, you haven't. I never know what's going on in your head. In fact, I barely know you at all, and we've been dating for six months!" You raised the phone to your ear, "Dea, I'm at the car. Can we leave? I'm suddenly having the worst time. I want to go home."

Dea agreed to come right away. "Please... let's talk about this," Hyunjin pleaded, finally grasping your hand. You jerked away. "Don't touch me!" Seeing Dea emerge from the house, you delivered your parting words: "When you're no longer ashamed to be seen with me in public, call me. But for now, just leave me alone." You got into the car as Dea approached, her questions already beginning.

Hyunjin remained in the darkened street, wiping his eyes as tears fell freely.

Tags:

@cashtonsbetch @moonndustx @katsukis1wife @valkyriexo @hyunjinhoexxx @ihrtlino @breezy-simp @vixensss @yaorzu-blog @tirena1 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @chuuyaobsessed @doohnut @babigriin @iovecb97 @kpflyn @rylea08 @sheerfreesia007 @tsunderelino @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @moonchild9350 @syedazarintasnim @myflowercloud @143hyunes @luvyblossom @shecheatedwithme @antisocialties @akaligogrrr @thisaintredwine @rose-w-00-d @jisuperboard @velvetmoonlight @kayleefriedchicken @skzfelixlove @athforskz

[captain039]

He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

I watched Deadpool and Wolverine and found my Wolverine cravings again xD

I’m in love with Hugh Jackman again

This school was your life now, having gone too many nights in a fire proof basement for your ‘out of control spells’ as your father put it. You didn’t have a bad childhood, rich parents each working hard to make their living, sending you to a nice school, college even till you set everything on fire.

You were staying at the college, it was your first month and everything seemed to be going well, your new room mate was nice a beta woman and classes were easy so far. You had your own space some clubs you wanted to check out, new places to see if you ever got the energy. Right now it was study till you passed out, get up go to class, come right back and repeat. It was draining but you needed to get use to it, your mother would call mid week and message every other day. Your father would say a brief hello on the calls but that’s all you’d hear from him, not that you minded. You kept your mutation hidden even if sometimes you felt yourself running a little hotter than usual, sometimes small flames would jump off your skin and you’d stop whatever you were doing, put some music on and focus on the moment. It was the third week, your roommate had invited you to party, you didn’t want to go, but your therapist did say to ‘get out more’ as she put it. So you went, stuck by your roommates side for most of the night till she got pulled away by some guy and they left. You were about to leave when someone approached, another girl in your class, an alpha, you’d forgotten her name but she handed you a drink with a bright smile, sat down with you and talked. It felt nice to laugh about whatever crazy story she was telling, she lived in the country, way out in the country living off home grown vegetables and herding cows. You checked your phone once your drink was gone finding it late so you excused yourself and went back to your room. You found your roommate passed out in her bed and shrugged feeling your head spinning a little, that drink definitely had alcohol in it. You laid down after forcing your jeans and bra off before curling up in and sighing. You awoke to the smell smoke and burning, you shot up, your room on fire, your roommate screaming as flames engulfed her. Your body was on fire also, the flames coming out of you. You tried to stop them tried to reel them in but you had no control, your panic worsened your anxiety worsened and the fire worsened. You heard sirens, shouting and chatter, but all you could do was stand by your roommates bed seeing her charred body. The fire brigade couldn’t stop your fire and you couldn’t cry.

“You’re alright” you frowned looking around seeing no one, but a males voice filled your head.

“Walk outside, we’ll handle the rest” you felt compelled to listen, you walked through the burning hall and outside as the voice said.

“Storm” a man called and you frowned. The world around you stopped, everything frozen but you and the group in front of you. Heavy rain poured down helping stop the flames on the building.

“I can stop this, I’m going to calm your mind, it will feel strange though” the voice said.

It did feel strange your body calming your heart slowing, the flames subsiding, just you, naked in the middle of the campus entrance.

“Jean” the older man in the wheel chair said as you quickly hid your body as the woman came over and wrapped a blanket around you. You thanked her softly shivering but not from the cold.

“Come, let’s get you some place safe” the older man said.

That’s how you met Professor Charles Xavier, Storm or Ororo and Jean grey that day. They said they found you by one of Professor Xavier’s machines he uses. Now you stay here in a fireproof room, with no one else in it, continuing your studies and nobody knew the cause of the fire. The nightmares still haunt you though, your roommates scream, she was such a lovely girl. You found out later that something had been in your drink spiked, majority of the other students just passed out for a day while it turned your powers hay wire and burnt quarter of the college down. You avoided most people, happy in your solitude and avoiding your powers. This school was full of different mutants, still some alpha douche bags around your age but it was a lot less intense and easier. Every time Professor Xavier would ask you to train your power you’d decline quickly and say you were fine with your studies. To be truthful you hated your power, hated the destruction it caused even if majority of these kids had tragic back stories too. You connected with most of the teachers, Jean more so though, Ororo was probably your second, but Jean was an alpha and reminded you of your mother somehow, so you subtly clung to her, made an attachment as your old therapist would call it. Sometimes though you’d catch whiff of another alpha on her, not Scott, Scott was a beta, nor another teacher, it was a strong intense scent you couldn’t pinpoint the smell, Whiskey was one of them, leather it would fade with Jeans scent of Grapefruit and spice.

You were going to see Jean seeing as she was one of the doctors there for some more anti-heat medication, you really wish they would come up with a stupid medical name for the stuff so you didn’t have to say it, even if you were a grown adult. You didn’t knock, figured she knows already with her mutation. What you didn’t expect was to be slapped in the face by a new scent. Slapped in the face was a little excessive, it felt like that though, you stopped in the door way stared at the alpha in the room and forgot how to breathe. Jesus Christ.

You stuttered pointing out the door cursing yourself as Jean smiled a bit.

“I didn’t know someone was here- I’ll um-“ your eyes finally left the male alpha, wondering who he was and wondering why the hell your legs were struggling to hold you up. You almost purred and bared your neck like some cat in heat.

“He was just leaving” Jean gave the male alpha a stern look and he sighed uncrossing his arms and walking to you. You forgot all manners and normal human function as he approached.

“Can I get past you Bub?” He asked voice rough and you slapped yourself mentally.

“Yes sorry, uh bye?” You moved out the way saying goodbye even if you didn’t know him. You heard him chuckle lightly and swore your stomachs did flips.

“You ok there?” Jean asks and you snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Yes, that was embarrassing, I’ve smelt him on you before it was weird putting scent to face” god help you, you shouldn’t have said that.

“That’s even more embarrassing, I literally hate myself right now” you hung your head and walked over to her desk and sat down.

“You’re alright, how can I help?” She chuckled lightly and you sighed nodding.

“I need more um, Anti-heat pills, maybe some more scent blockers” you mumbled the last part. Scent blockers blocked your scent and others, if he was only briefly staying then good, no more embarrassing malfunctions, but if he was, damn.

“Is he a teacher?” You ask.

“No, Logan is I guess you could say he’s the muscle here even if Charles doesn’t like the thought, Logan’s helped this school more than once, he’s just got back from a mission sometimes he helps trains” she explains as she types on her computer.

“Oh, that’s cool” you say feeling a little stupid as Jean heads over to the locked room in the corner.

“Need any updates on your other meds? You’re going ok? Do you wanna come off them?” She asks.

“No they’re fine, thank you though” you answer as she returns with a small bag and hands it to you.

“Charles asked again if you wanted to join training this Friday?” She asks sitting down again and you tense.

“Oh I’m ok, thank you though” you say and stand.

“I’ll let you get back to work” you smile and say a small goodbye before leaving. You sigh shoulders sagging a little. You’re definitely not going to train now if that alpha will be there.

Next part ->

[maxdibert]

Honestly, if Severus had had emotional maturity, he would have realized that Lily always minimized his harassment by the marauders, like "boys will be boys." If I were Snape, I would have cut off the friendship a long time ago. What would you do in Severus' position?

The problem with Severus and Lily's relationship is that it wasn’t built on equal footing. Lily made a friend, possibly like many others in her life, because she came from a structured family with a solid foundation in interpersonal relationships. Despite her issues with Petunia, we know her parents adored her and were thrilled to have a witch for a daughter, so we can assume her emotional role models were quite positive, which helped her build relationships at school and even become somewhat popular. For Severus, though, Lily wasn’t just a friend. Severus came from a poor and dysfunctional family, his father was abusive, and his mother didn’t seem to do much to protect her son from that abuse. His view of relationships and affection was already deeply distorted by the environment he grew up in. For him, being with Lily, playing with her, was a way to escape what was happening at home. It was a moment of peace, of stability, something he wasn’t familiar with. I genuinely believe he developed a very strong emotional dependency on her and her attention, because, from childhood, Lily represented everything good, everything that made him feel safe and important to someone.

Then adolescence hit, and they had very different interests and goals. I don’t hate Lily, but I do think she was a bit shallow. I mean, ending up with a rich, socially successful bully is pretty shallow. And it fits her character, because at the end of the day, she was a lower-middle-class girl in the Muggle world, and a Muggle-born in the magical world—she didn’t belong to any relevant social class in either. So, being pursued and courted by the most popular guy in her year, who was also super rich and from an important family, must have appealed to her. J.K. Rowling said in an interview, when someone mentioned that Lily supposedly hated James, that “Lily never hated James. You, as a woman (to the interviewer), should understand or know that.” She hinted that all the hatred towards James was an act and that she was actually attracted to him, which tells me a lot about Lily as a person and her values. I would never date a bully, whether or not they had attacked my friend. If I saw someone constantly abusing others at school, I wouldn’t date that person, but Lily did. And I don’t think it was because James made her believe he had changed, manipulated her, or any of the nonsense people say. I don’t think Lily was stupid. I think she knew exactly what she was doing by getting involved with someone who could give her social status, a life of comfort, and a position she didn’t have in either the magical or Muggle world.

Severus clearly went in a different direction. He wasn’t doing well at school, and the rich, popular kids decided that picking on him was easier than going after their rich, pure-blood classmates, because those pure-bloods could get them into real trouble, so it was easier, more comfortable, and safer to go after the weakest link—the poor half-blood. They made life unbearable for someone who already felt that life outside of school was equally unbearable. They bullied someone who was already being abused outside of school, and that’s probably what pushed Severus—if he already had an interest in the Dark Arts—closer to more negative influences.

Lily and Severus grew apart as they matured, and this is completely normal. It happens to all of us as kids. We all had those close childhood friends who took different paths during adolescence, and that’s okay. The problem is that, despite everything, Severus still saw Lily as that symbol of his childhood happiness. She was his happy memory (which is why the whole Patronus thing makes a lot of sense), because he probably didn’t have happier moments than the ones he shared with her. And in the midst of all the bullying and questionable influences at Hogwarts, during the early years, Lily was probably also his safe space. But Lily didn’t see Severus in the same way, and I’m not talking about romance, but rather that she didn’t see their friendship as something necessary, something emotionally vital for her. Severus was dependent; she wasn’t.

In a way, I think that, beyond emotional immaturity, Severus also lacked healthy emotional role models, and therefore he didn’t realize that Lily was actually kind of a jerk. Add to that the fact that he was blinded by her, considering her his emotional anchor, and he probably wasn’t able to see her negative traits. That’s also very common.

I believe that if Lily hadn’t died and Severus had had the chance to have a life of his own without sacrificing all his autonomy and independence to serve Dumbledore, over time he would have matured and gained perspective, because despite everything, he was a smart guy. He would have realized that his relationship with Lily was always one-sided, and I think he could have started fresh and become a functional person. But he never got that chance. It’s been proven in psychiatry that abuse victims who don’t process their traumas remain stuck in the time period when the abuse occurred. In Severus’ case, the abuse started in childhood and continued throughout adolescence, so it’s logical and normal that he ended up being a very dysfunctional adult, unable to manage his emotions properly or set limits for himself when situations triggered him too much. In some ways, he acts like a child. The comment about Hermione’s teeth is childish—it sounds like something Draco would say, and Draco is a teenager. The same goes for many of his remarks to Harry or Neville, which are basically sarcastic jabs from a bratty kid being a jerk. I think we see this best (because it happens between equals, interestingly between two people with significant emotional issues) when he has several confrontations with Sirius. Maybe Sirius’ immaturity is more obvious because he’s a loudmouth and pretty extroverted, but Severus also behaves like a brat, which shows that despite not spending 12 years in Azkaban, he hasn’t grown either. If we think about it, Severus had his own Azkaban: Hogwarts. He had to return to the place where he had a terrible time and experienced several of his worst traumas, to teach, even though he didn’t even want to be a teacher, and he had to adopt that jerk persona to mask all the emotions and insecurities he felt being there. You can’t heal in the place where you were hurt. You can’t heal by giving up your life for a greater good. You can’t heal while feeling guilty over the death of someone who was once the most important person in your life. Severus was stuck in adolescence mentally, even though he was an adult. And this happens a lot with victims like him.

Honestly, despite everything, I think Severus was quite level-headed and pretty decent. Or maybe I’m saying this because I’m more of a jerk than he is, but I would have made James Potter and Sirius Black suffer a lot. I would have found out all their secrets and made them public, putting all my efforts into making them wish they were dead and even have suicidal thoughts. And if a friend of mine had acted like Lily, who kind of laughed when Snape was being abused, I would’ve beaten her so badly she’d lose her nose. But well, I have less ethics than Severus and maybe more temper.

[nymphia-tarot]

✞︎ All About Your Past Life 🦢🩶

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

🕊️ meditate on the pics and pick whichever one calls to you the most. you might feel drawn to more than one pile, which means you may have messages in other piles for you as well! if you don't feel particularly drawn to any pile, the messages in this reading might not be intended for you. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🕊️

🩶Pile 1

For my pile 1s I'm getting a lot of yall had very hard and stressful lives 😭 You might have faced a lot of societal and systematic problems which kept you worried throughout your life. With the world rx I'm getting that yall were deeply unsatisfied with the way your life progressed in the past and that there were a lot of regrets and unfulfilled wishes in the end. You were very intelligent and clever and it helped you survive the tough times though you might've been denied of a formal education due to your background and were kinda inhibited in a way from reaching your full potential. But from some of you, I'm getting that you did get to pursue the field you wanted initially but it didn't pan out due to practical issues and you had to abandon your own happiness. For some of you, I'm getting like street thug or thief? Where you were involved in illegal stuff and did a lot of questionable shit to survive and in the end it cost you a lot. I'm getting overall that money was a big issue in your life. However, you guys were very mentally strong people who had a "come what may" attitude towards hardships because you were so used to it.

You might've been in love with someone (I'm getting a woman) of high status in society but you couldn't dare to court her due to the difference in your social positions. For your career, it's like no matter how hard you worked it was extremely difficult to get to where you wanted and you might've also been burdened with the worries of feeding and supporting you family because you were the primary provider. Eventually, you ended up in a conventional marriage, probably arranged too, but you were never satisfied with your spouse truly. You always yearned after someone else (the lady mentioned earlier?) and couldn't give your heart to your spouse fully. For some of you guys, I'm getting you were a woman forced into a marriage with someone you didn't love just to provide for your family and fell in love with someone else (a foreign man I'm seeing) and tried to elope but it caused a huge scandal and you ended up homeless and abandoned.

You might've lived during a time where the economic situation and all wasn't really the best and the common folk were always under the worry of starving the next day. I'm getting like, a cold place too? You had to give up a lot of your dreams for the sake of either other people or due to the bad luck handed to you during your lifetime. It's like you lost sight of your purpose in life at the end and ended up deeply unhappy.

🩶Pile 2:

[TW: mentions of abuse‼️⚠️]

Pile 2, I'm getting you guys grew up in an affluent or well-off family. Probably like upper middle-class or something. Many of you guys' fathers were probably some rich businessman/trader. However, I'm getting that you guys had very unhappy childhoods. For some, I'm getting you guys were orphaned early due to an accident and may have been in grief for a long time. The trauma might've stayed with you guys for a good amount of time and it deeply affected you future interactions and capability to have relationships. For others, I'm getting like childhood abuse? By a male figure, or bullying by the rest of your family members, and it deeply impacting your self-confidence. As an adult, you might've closed your heart off entirely but deep down your biggest wish was a desire for a genuine connection free of deception, and true love. You guys were genuine romantics at heart. I'm getting that you guys in pile 2 didn't really marry at all and that romance wasn't really a big part of your life.

Spirituality was a major part of life for some in this pile and you guys might've become nuns that swore a vow of chastity or just some other religious/spiritual figure who inspired and taught people. My pile 2s are very nurturing and gentle souls deep down and it seems like people may be drawn to your warmth and caring personality. You guys provided comfort to a lot of people in your past life. Even if you weren't a religious figure, I'm getting that you were in some sort of position where you took care of people like a nurse or something. After a certain point in your adult lives, you guys took to travel: for some it was a spiritual journey, for others it was just a normal journey to aid those in need and help the impoverished in society like maybe social workers. You guys had innate spiritual gifts and intuition and your purpose in life was to help people. Very kind souls overall. Many people might've looked to you as a wise and knowledgeable figure in your later years and you became a symbol of knowledge and learning in your community. You might have even travelled from place to place to spread your knowledge and aid people.

In this life, a lot of you guys in pile 2 might be very passionate and dedicated individuals with a zest for life. Maybe a water sign too? Or like prominent water placements in chart. I feel like your past life purpose carried over to your current one as well and you might be very spiritual and intuitive people. "Learn to let go of your fears and let loose" is what I'm hearing?

🩶Pile 3:

Pile 3, It seems a big theme surrounding the energy of your past life was a certain lack of control you had regarding your destiny and choices. You might've been born to a life where you were put under heavy obligations and duties because of your position. You must have felt really restricted and burdened, as if there are eyes all over you, and pressure from everywhere, to the point you felt really burdened and suffocated. You might have been born at a time and place where there was a lot of upheaval and chaos and you were a key figure regarding the events, or at least you played a part in maintaining the balance of the situation no matter how small. For a huge part of your life, you might have been a part of a "higher order" (whatever that means) where you had to maintain a strong front. Perhaps there was a lot of conflict involved in your era and you were forced to participate or mitigate the issue. For some, I'm getting you had a very strict and controlling maternal figure in your life who made all your choices for you and shoved you into the path you were headed without really giving you any free will. And fir some, I'm getting a vindictive and malicious feminine figure of authority who posed as a thorn throughout your life.

There seems to be a lot of trickery and manipulation surrounding your relationships in this past life reading. Perhaps due to your position, there were a lot of malicious individuals who coveted your downfall. There were a lot of lies, backstabbing and secrecy involved in your interpersonal relationships, most likely due to the chaotic situation fate had handed to you. It was as if you could never fully trust anyone around you with your back. Due to these complications, it seems you never really found someone to commit yourself to.

One of your biggest desires in your past life that went unfulfilled was a desire to take charge and carve out your own path by yourself. You had to live in constant worry and fear of betrayal and death. Quite a lot of you in pile 3 were those who had a more creative streak to you and maybe what you really desired was to start a business of your own or to pursue the arts. A lot of you ended up as martyrs in your life which was the necessary step to pave the path for everyone's happiness but it ultimately made you sacrifice your own. I'm getting a lot of you also just wanted to live a life if simplicity in a small-scale area or community, away from the burdens of your position. An advice spirit is telling my pile 3s is to "drive out the negative influences and to take back your power".

🩶Pile 4:

Whoo pile 4 you guys are the most "tame" pile so far in the sense that you guys probably led the "happier" life compared to the other piles lol. The other piles' energy were so heavy 😭

I think my pile 4s were leading relatively simple and cosy lives but I'm getting that work/career was a significant source of stress for you guys in your lives. You guys were hard workers who probably worked in a job where you had to collaborate with or meet a lot of people. Maybe you guys were severely burnt out by your work to the point you felt your spark diminishing. Or perhaps life was so easy that you felt bored and wishing for adventure and excitement. You guys were very grounded and stable individuals however. I'm getting there might have been a lot of workplace drama in your lives though. Your co-workers may not have had your best interests at heart and you might have gotten cheated or manipulated by them. I'm getting workplace injustice. They took advantage of your kindness and giving nature and used it to exploit you. You might have even gotten framed for something you had no hand in and had to suffer for it.

You were, however, very loved and abundant when it came to suitors and friends. You might have even gotten a lot of love offers and proposals. You eventually ended up in a happy marriage with a very sensitive and emotionally mature person who cared a lot for you. I'm getting Aquarius vibes? Your spouse had a lot of love for you in their hearts and was someone who was willing to dive deep into anything for your sake.

I'm getting that a major issue surrounding your past life is work-life imbalance and diminishing creativity/passion. You guys might have been depressed at some point too. Perhaps you were chained to a very conformist lifestyle where you did not get to have a lot of fun. An advice I'm hearing from spirit is to guard your possessions and be wary of whom you give to. Don't just let people take what's yours freely and be open to what's different from the norm from time to time.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #14: The Valentines Day Debacle

“debacle • \dee-BAH-kul\ • noun.

1 : a tumultuous breakup of ice in a river 

2 : a violent disruption (as of an army) : rout

3 a : a great disaster b : a complete failure : fiasco.”

~ It was Valentine’s Day and Jason regrets agreeing to go on this date.

Weelll, kind of, but not exactly.

This “date” was actually a covert-op with three caped chaperones because he, Steph, Tim and Cass were all on cases that ended up being the same case.

Steph and Tim had caught wind of some allegedly magic potions becoming popular among college students used to help students score dates with their up coming Valentines. There weren’t any outright love potions but confidence boosters, things to increase your attractiveness, luck boosters, thing to get people in the mood. They had been investigating into it to make sure this wasn’t secretly a drug ring but found it to some real magical bullshit. They’d located the source’s lair/lab where they brewed the potions but not the potion brewer themselves.

Cass had been in Hong Kong when she caught wind of one of her targets following rumors of a witch who specialized in potions to grant small boons and bewitching charms. After dealing with her target she started tracking down the witch to find out her goals and intentions. She followed her trail across Asia, Europe and a good portion of the eastern seaboard before her path led her to Gotham.

Jason was investigating some upper middle class chick that started hanging around the alley trying to get in with the prostitutes and drag queens(and only succeeding in making them suspicious). She met several young men who abandoned the gang allegiances too trail after her like puppies. His investigation showed she was also circling Gotham elites and was in search of gossip on two things: people looking for love and a beau for herself.

They had been going over their cases at a team meeting when they realized their 3 targets were all the same woman. Between the four of them they pieced out she was some new age witch, descendent from an older family line looking to get rich and in a relationship. Her potions weren't really actively harmful but her use of them to gain the upper hand in business deals and amass a following of boytoys she decided weren’t hunky enough for her but would do as muscle was.

Tim and Steph knew she was planning on selling her potions at the Valentine’s/Winter market place in Robinson Park coming up. Jason and Cass knew she was looking to net some more followers while they were there so the plan was simple. One of the guys would go undercover to try and get recruited while the others stayed nearby for back up. They’d try to get some information out of her and if the need for it arose, to take her into custody and hand her off to the Justice League Dark. They’d already talked to Zatana to have her ready to come to Gotham should things go awry and gotten a charm from her to prevent them from getting put under her control.

Oh if only this didn’t go so wrong.

Unfortunately for Jason, he matched their little witch’s tastes to a tee. Thus, he was the one stuck being dragged around market under the guise of having agreed to a date with her. She dragged him around, made him pay for her things, tried to use his stature to intimidate others and was generally rude to the other patrons and staff. Oh, Jason despised her but grit his teeth and pretended to play nice. Cass was investigating her stall and Steph and Tim were tailing them.

Finally over the comms he heard the team confirm Cass had found the info she was looking for and he could finally ditch little miss witch. He broke it to her that he thought this wouldn’t work out and her eye just twitched. She must have tried to charm him because she asked him to stay with her and become her main beau, which he soundly refused. This set her off on a rage as she screeched over how her charm didn’t work and how Jason would have been perfect if she’d been able to get him under her thumb. He tried to back off when she lashed out with a magic rope insisting once she captured Jason he’d be the perfect leader to her adoring little boyfriend army.

So yeah she was more psycho than anticipated.

Spoiler and Red Robin began to swoop in for the rescue which only served to enraged her further. That’s when the team learned that she was talented in more than just potions. She used her magic to start awakening magical creatures in the park surrounding them. Nymphs shed from trees and little snow golems formed and began attacking RR and Spoiler.

Black Bat had run over to extract Jason when the witch noticed her. She shrieked in outraged proclaiming if she couldn’t have Jason no one else would and that he could become fish food for the frost creatures of Far Frozen before picking him up with a spectral vine and slamming him through the frozen lake into a swirling blue portal. Cass tried to go after him but the witch quickly engaged her with too much feral rage to realize she was outclassed in hand to hand against Black Bat. By the time Steph and Tim fought off the nymphs and golems it was too late. Whatever whirling portal had been in the lake closed and Jason was no where to be found.

As Jason pushed through the ice he had one final thought before he felt himself black out: ‘Worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

~ The first thing Jason felt when he came to was cold. He was still submerged under icy water. It was chilled him to the core but was almost soothing in a way. As if cooling of a burn. As is opened his eyes the world seemed to move in slow motion. He was still underwater surrounded by chunks of ice. He could make out sounds of distorted yelling as the world seem to get even slower.

Suddenly he felt something grab his collar and place itself under his arm. Jason was unceremoniously hoisted out of a frozen river and laid out on a river bank. He let out a harsh cough and his head got dizzy. He tried to regain his wits long enough to see who pulled him out.

It was large figure, maybe an inch or two taller than his 6 foot, with the bulk of a viking and the looks of one too. The man appeared to be around the same age as Jason, possibly older, and very concerned. He had messy white hair that was tied(or braided? Jason’s vision was still blurry) in the back. He was wearing armor made of some sort of hide leather and a dark gray metal (iron?) and covered in snow-white furs.

Jason stared at his savior trying to get his wits about him, willing his vision to clear. That’s Jason felt a warm fur cloak wrap around him as the man said something Jason wasn’t able to comprehend. He let out another harsh cough and felt himself being picked up in a princess carry. His rescuer moved incredibly fast for someone carrying a man of Jason’s stature. However, the motion did not help with the dizziness or the cold. Jason shivered, curling towards his “heroic knight” and pulling the cloak tighter around himself. This spurred the man to go faster.

Finally, everything stopped moving and Jason felt himself encompassed in warmth. Several more furs were wrapped around him and he was laid down to rest. At last Jason’s vision cleared enough to see the other man’s face properly. He had a rugged face and a strong jawline. He had a small scar near his eyebrow and round eyes with light eye bags beneath them. He had a straight nose and bow-shaped lips.

Jason felt the world slow down again and realized he’d soon pass out from the cold. The man lifted Jason’s head and slipped a pillow underneath. A rough hand gently pushed the wet hair out of his face and caressed his cheek. Jason stared into the man’s eye. They were kind, gentle, and such a vibrant green they seemed to glow. The man gave him a small smile and the last thing Jason heard before falling asleep was a soothing voice telling him “Rest, we will take care of you.” And with that Jason felt himself relax and fell asleep.

~ When Jason came to the first thing he saw was a 20-something-foot tall yeti with an icy cybernetic arm looming over the foot of his bed.

He promptly screamed and fell out of bed.

A vaguely familiar voice called out from another room.

“ FROSTBITE! I thought I told you not to scare him!”

In walked the man that had saved Jason from an icy death. Upon closer inspection now that he wasn’t dying the man seem 10 times as beautiful than Jason remembered. He almost seemed to have this ethereal glow to him. The man continued to admonish the yeti who just laughed heartily and continued on with whatever task he was trying to complete. The man turned his attention to Jason, smiling at him in apology and lifting him back into the bed.

“ I’m sorry about Frostbite. He won’t admit it but I think he gets a crack out of scaring his patients,” He said with a placating chuckle. His mirthful eyes met Jason’s puzzled ones and he continued on as he began to fiddle with few thermoses, seemingly searching for one in particular.

“ You must be quite confused. I don’t exactly know how you ended up here but this place called the Far Frozen. I felt a pulse of magic near the river and went to investigate and ended up fished you of the water. You were nearly frozen so I brought you back to village where you could get warmed up and medics like Frostbite could help you before the actual frostbite set in.”

He chuckled at his own joke before placing a cup in Jason’s hands.

“ It’s soup, drink up. It’ll help you get warm.”

Jason hesitantly took a sip of his soup. It was surprisingly good! He continued to sip his soup and Jason observed the man. He had a rather muscular build Jason noticed, staring at the man for no other reason than assessing if he’d be a potential threat (and for absolutely no other reason). Danny finished closing up his thermos and continued to speak.

“ I promise once Frostbite treats you for any illness or injury. I’ll help you get home. -Oh where are my manners” he held his hand out for Jason to shake. “You can call me Phantom.”

“ Call me Jay,” he replied, taking Phantom’s hand and a glance at his biceps. Phantom pulled away and stood up.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to resting. I’ll come back later when Frostbite gives you a check up and we can talk about how you got here and how to get you back” He turned and began to walk out before turning his head back one last time and waved. “I’ll see in a bit Jay.”

Jason watched him go and fell back into bed having finished his soup. As he pulled the furs and blankets back over himself he thought ‘Well maybe it’s not the worst Valentine’s Day ever.’

[princeloww]

rivals plot summary (including content warnings)

What to expect from the new DT show, basically. Vague spoiler warning.

Tony Baddingham, DT's character, runs a British television company in the Cotswold area. He is a lord and, as you might guess, extremely rich. He tends to manipulate people and spend their money instead of his, so that when his ventures go wrong, other people are left scrambling to pick up their losses, while he's completely fine.

He has a long-lasting rivalry with the tory minister for sport, Rupert Campbell-Black. Rupert is extremely charming and athletic, and has a new mistress every week. He is divorced and does not see his two children very often. He's an athlete at heart, and adores his horses more than people --- but politics are a lot more stable than that.

The plot follows a very large cast of characters, which can be quite confusing at first. I had to go back and work out who Beattie Johnson was, for example, because I'd completely forgotten who she was and who she was involved with. There are lots of wives and husbands and mistresses and children, so it gets a bit complicated. Most of the characters are somehow linked to Corinium, Lord B (Tony Baddingham)'s TV company.

Tony hooks up with and employs an American director/writer, Cameron Cook. She moves to England to work at Corinium. Her arrival and bad attitude forms tension in the Coriunium workspace, and the tension furthers when Declan O'Hara, an Irish TV presenter and author, arrives at Corinium. He is a leftist (in contrast to the conservatives around him) and often discriminated against for being Irish. At times he is accused of having IRA links, mostly just to make him look bad. He and Tony's personalities clash, leading to a fall out at Corinium. Declan, in a drunken rage, quits his job and falls into a bit of a bad state.

Recovering from the publicity of his departure, Declan groups up with Rupert Campbell-Black and a few others (including Tony's brother, Basil Baddingham) to create a rival television company, Venturer, to challenge Corinium and Tony for the franchise.

There is a lot of romance and a LOT of subplots. Declan's daughter, Taggie O'Hara, is a dyslexic cook who struggles to find work due to her inability to read and write. She develops a crush on Rupert, who is considerably older. If I start talking about how much I despise their relationship, I will never stop. Taggie will probably be quite a main character in the show, I'm guessing. Declan also has a wife, Maud, who is a failed actress and spends all of his money.

Tony's wife, Monica, is very charitable and employs Taggie despite Declan and Tony's rivalry. She is aware that Tony is having an affair with Cameron Cook. An affair which, while Cameron is under his employment, becomes extremely toxic and abusive.

I'm sure the show will be rounded out a bit for modern audiences, but warnings wise (at least in the book), Rivals includes themes of sexual assault (particularly groping), misogyny, domestic abuse and much more. A big majority of the characters are rich and extremely corrupt. Tony, the baddie of the story, has some of the worst moments. There is a scene where he hits and throws a woman until she is bleeding, because she's 'betrayed' him. He also threatens to kill somebody. On a separate occasion, he tells a distraught SA victim not to tell anybody, because the attacker is somebody who he needs on his side, for money. There is also, obviously, given the kind of characters we follow, a lot of classism. Valerie Jones, for example, exists as a punching bag for a middle-class Northern woman who wants to be like the rich Southerners.

Tony might be the bad guy, but Rupert, who we're supposed to like, is also awful. He's Jilly Cooper's little golden boy, despite being horrible. I hate him so much but Jilly clearly loves him. He gropes eighteen-year-old girls and objectifies every single woman he speaks to.

Again, I'm sure a lot of this will be toned down, but watch with caution. The story has light moments and lots of romance, comedy and drama --- it just occasionally dips into dark themes. There will probably be lots of dinner parties, as every other scene is a giant social gathering. As much as I have issue with Jilly Cooper, she is absolutely excellent at writing large social scenes with dozens of different subplots combining.

There's also a weird theme of characters describing 14-year-olds (specifically 14-year-olds) in weird predatory ways. It's weird though, because a strange amount of characters do it -- to the degree where I think it's just Jilly Cooper describing them weirdly. She acts as though being a teenage girl is a woman's prime and that she is wasted after that. She has also gone on the record to state that she hates feminists. I'm not a giant fan, frankly.

On a lighter note, if you want to tell who's supposed to be a good guy, just remember that the good guys always quote poetry and like animals.

Despite its many flaws and dark themes, Rivals really is an interesting read. Jilly Cooper says the weirdest, most fucked up things ("she's like a little sister", thinks Rupert, right after staring at the 18-yo's ass) but the story really supports itself. It's interesting, gossipy, raunchy and very well written. Cooper is an expert at big scenes, and works so well with the giant ensemble cast. I disagree with a lot of things she says, but I think the show will be really good. I'm super excited and can't wait to watch it. There's a particular scene with David's character that I'm looking forward to; while in the book it was a bit scary, because we know how Jilly is with teenagers, there's a scene where Tony drives Declan(his enemy)'s daughter home, and is actually very nice to her before realising who she is. I think DT will do this scene a lot better, and it might actually be a bit endearing. Idk, I don't wanna jinx it, but I think it has potential to be a sweet scene, with the charm DT typically brings to these roles.

If anyone has any plot-related questions, or about David's character or anything, please feel free to ask! I'm more than happy to ramble about this book, because I do really like it. I see and dislike its flaws, but personally I am able to look past them and appreciate the story and characters. They're all horrible people, but let's be honest. They're politicians and rich, tory lords in the 1980s. They were always going to be horrible. You can like something that contains problematic characters without necessarily, immediately condoning and agreeing with those things. People online and especially on places like TikTok seem to struggle with this concept, but I'm a firm believer in media literacy and accepting flaws. You can like something that is bad. You can like villains. It's fine.

Declan is my favourite btw. Live laugh love Declan O'Hara

[phoenixyfriend]

I think Modern AUs of Beauty and the Beast need to lean harder on the "since the morning that we came to this poor provincial town" line

Belle came from something that is not a small, economically shaky rural town! There are a few possibilities, but I choose to understand it as Belle being a City Girl, because I think I can make it funny.

This is a City Girl who moved here, and looks Generically Pretty, because she's just Different from the others (that's why she's the most beautiful girl in town). It's not necessarily that she is prettier, but small towns tend to have limited options, and a new look is an interesting one.

She reads so many books because she never got agribusiness classes in high school, so she isn't set up for small town life in terms of actually getting a job locally, and she tends to avoid other people and hide in her books because it's easier than people. Everyone reads into this as her being kind of stuck-up and snotty because she looks down on the locals.

Her dad is some Weird City Man Who Lost His Tenure For Blowing Up The Science Wing, so he's now the eccentric who had to move to Nowhere, Middle Of for the sake of getting away from a whole lot of Crap regarding his reputation.

The local dudes who all peaked in high school are joshing for a chance at Belle, because she's the Hot City Girl. They do all think she's weird as hell because she's got Political Opinions And Uses The Wrong Slang, and are very much of the opinion that there is a certain level of crazy that can be excused by being hot enough.

Cue "Dad gets lost, gotta go find him, agree to stay in the cursed castle because, well, gotta save Dad! And curses are a pretty extenuating circumstance to 'weird guy wants me to stay with him indefinitely,' especially since isn't asking for sex or housework while living with him, so... whatever. I still have a phone and Dad knows to call the cops if I miss a check-in."

Also in regards to the various servants, there are cult rumors. These days, live-in staff are a lot less common. Nobody's seen anyone from The Big House in ages, but the building still accepts food deliveries and puts out trash for collection, so someone must be there, so the only reasonable take on why they're out of contact is cult.

From the perspective of the town... she falls for that weird rich dude who lives in the foothills and has what seems to be a cult, which for the peaked in high school crew is very "Okay. You weren't that hot anyway, bitch."

The 'magic mirror shows that Belle is trapped by a monster' is actually just people going "aw shit, new girl got sucked into the cult, should we go check on her?" Her dad keeps saying that she's fine and hasn't said anything is really wrong, but everyone insists that she's lying because it's all Cult Bullshit.

After that whole mess is over, with the Beast and crew once again human and Belle clearly annoyed and reading the riot act to both the townsfolk and Adam, showing she's not fallen for any brainwash-y bullshit, she was just a pissed-off girl who decided "I can bully him into being a better person," which is probably a bad decision, but she's a grown-ass woman, so...

The cops are no longer trying to kidnap her back from the local rich eccentric (as opposed to the local poor eccentric, of which there are several, including Belle's dad).

The townsfolk decide by and large that this was probably for the best because Belle's apparently broken the cult situation? Somehow? And people from the big house in the hills are finally visiting town and proving they're alive again, so that's good.

It was never a cult, they just couldn't show their faces when the faces were furniture.

This turned into a bit more 'massive misunderstanding' with a heavy dollop of accidental Hallmark movie, but hey, we got there in the end. We all know I love a good genre mashup, and a romcom on one side with a horror on the other is basically how Disney did it, right?

Also I've been bingeing a lot of SNL and the actress I've got in my mind for this is Ego Nwodim.

[animentality]

How can one rival Colleen Hoover in the publishing industry? What can be done to dethrone her pointless, badly written books?

Sorry, I read “Ugly Love” around ten years ago and I have still to recover.  

Unfortunately for all of us, the literary market caters almost exclusively to cishet middle class white women, who buy and read the most books.

They have the time and money to sit around reading, and they read erotica and listen to true crime podcasts to escape the boredom of suburban house wife life/ a career in HR.

Which is why the most popular books are like. So boring. Because it's all, he grabs my throat, and whispers, "You're mine" or "I'll tell you what to wear and what to do..."

And it's like, candy to them. It gets to them like tickets to a Taylor Swift concert, even though you and I have read nastier, more fascinating twisted shit on AO3 since we were ten.

so if you want to dethrone Hoover, you'd have to write something similarly mediocre and cishet for them specifically.

one of my favorite examples of books that seem really stupid but were best sellers anyway -

Where the Crawdads Sing.

think about it.

Southern (middle class white women love some Southern wilderness settings)

Two love interests, white man with blond hair who is abusive and white man with brown hair, who miscommunicates. love triangle, baby.

Discrimination based on being white trash (both white trash women and middle class to rich white women can relate to white trash)

Murder trial. Instant best seller, every time. Especially falsely accused.

Main character is a beautiful white woman who lives in the sticks and mud, yet manages to be so hot and so mysterious and cute - no armpit hair or filth on her, except for the occasional cute smudge

Resolution is basically just, she killed the guy that she said she didn't kill. BIG PLOT TWIST.

So if you wanna dethrone Hoover, try that.

Love triangle with two white men.

Murder trial.

White trash representation.

Southern Gothic.

Good luck.

[th3d0nutl0rd]

I've finally found someone else who likes Devereaux from Renegade Nell 😭😭 I adored your headcanons for him, please don't let that be all 🙏🙏🙏

Oh my gosh my prayers have been answered, I have been having a lot of thoughts about him recently 🙏🙏

What if his engagement to Eularia was not of his own volition- what if his father's gambling landed them in a tough spot financially, which resulted in him marrying his son to a wealthy older woman like Eularia against his will 🥲 it's sad to think about but would make sense in the given context

Alternatively, maybe he really is just the sober Jack Sparrow type- he'll flirt with anyone if it can get him out of a bad situation. So if the first one was a bit too depressing for you, you can always think of it this way too.

Early in the show he mentions the growing industries in the Americas (as we know now many of these would end up being Plantations) but he did mention hemp. If you haven't looked into it before, the hemp industry in America from the mid 1600s-1700s is really interesting, and it's funny to think of him as someone who wants to potentially oversee it (I believe it was popular amongst British mariners and had several different uses less common to us now than at the time)

Imagine him, based in America, exploiting British mariners with hemp... Amazing...

Also I'm British, and study history at college so I can tell you that if you were to insert yourself into this universe it's entirely plausible that y/n would be able to grow up alongside Devereux even as a pauper, let me explain why-

In the 1700s, many poor children or ones who came from lower middle class families (who had titles, but not money) would be educated by local families who were rich, and would pay off their student debt by working in that family's trade

For example if that family were blacksmithing business you might spend a summer in their forge- if they were fishermen you might spend time on their boats. Meaning Charles could've been educated alongside you! Whoo! Perfect setup for a childhood friends type storyline.

Magic tricks! We got to see him do some during the show, and I think it would be so cute to have him show you his favourite tricks, maybe sat huddled in a room at night whispering to each other like giddy teenagers while he shows you some new trick he learned

Leading into this, I also love his general giddiness and excitement as a character. He loves an adventure. He's always got a smile on his face. He's good with kids- we saw it with George. What a sweet guy 😭❤️

OH MY GOD AND THE DANCING!!! LET'S NOT FORGET THE DANCING!!! I have so many thoughts about his dancing I'm probably gonna make a separate post about it so please tell me if that's something you'd like to see

[medusapelagia]

Learning to Love 1

(Part 1, Part 2...)

This fic was supposed to be a pinch but in the end wasn't needed anymore so it collected dust in my Scrivener’s file for a few months. A HUGE thank you to @mystrade-lecroft that was my beta ages ago!

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve /Billy Tags: enemies to lovers, no upside down Words: 1117

Billy hasn't talked to Steve since the fight they had at Byers’ house, when he found his little step-sister alone in a stranger's house with the other two boys and Harrington.

There was a reason they were all there. Lucas and Max had gone on a little nerd date and the kid's bicycle got a flat tire so he called his best friend, Dustin, who called his best friend, Harrington, who picked them up with his car and drove them to the Byers’ to fix the bicycle.

Billy knows Max and he knows she may have gone with Lucas even if she was grounded just to piss him off, but his father wasn't going to listen to any kind of excuses so Billy had to defend Max's honor, she was his sister after all. It doesn't matter if they don't share the same blood, she is family now, and even if most of the time Billy can’t stand her, he was not going to let anyone put his dirty paws on her, ok?

That’s why he got so mad at Harrington when he lied to him about his sister. Pretending she wasn’t there when he could see her staring at him from the window.

They fought hard, and Billy took Harrington by surprise, crashing a plate on the side of his head and punching him in the face until he laid on the ground unconscious. Then he took Max's arm, who was still screaming something about him being crazy or some shit like that and dragged her to the car.

"Never do something like that again, are we clear?" He hissed in her face. And since that day she didn't, or at least if she did, she became sneakier. Billy doesn’t really care, the important thing is that his father is satisfied, and if Neil Hargrove is happy everyone at home is happy.

Does Billy feel guilty about punching Harrington? Maybe. But he did what had to be done and now the rich boy is keeping his distance from him and his step-sister, which is good. 

Nobody knows exactly what happened, everyone assumed that they had a fight about some girl and even if the chief of police insisted, Harrington didn't file a report against him. Billy should be grateful, a report on his record would not look good, but he wasn't wrong assuming that the pretty boy was going to do something inappropriate with his sister, well, step-sister. After all, he is the one who took her to that house in the middle of nowhere when he could have just driven her back home. It doesn't matter that Max probably begged the high school boy not to, Steve should have known better and drove her home the same.

Billy takes his seat at the back of the class. Hagan on his right is complaining about something Carol did during the weekend when the teacher gets in the classroom and announces that she is going to give them a pop quiz. Everyone starts to complain loudly, while the woman gives them the tests telling them that they should already know the answers and that the test is to help them get prepared before the final test.

Billy doesn't complain, he was always one of the best students in every school he attended so he is not worried at all. He quickly fills the test and gives it back to the teacher who smiles at him and tells him that he can go out to grab a smoke if he wants, but he has to get back before the class ends because she wants to talk to him.

The blond guy raises an eyebrow, confused, he knows he did well on the test, why did she ask him to get back to class?

"Nothing to worry about." She keeps smiling and Billy nods, going outside, the cigarette in his mouth as soon as the door closes behind him. The blond boy loves smoking, he loves everything about smoking; he loves the rituality of taking the cigarette, putting it in his mouth, taking the lighters, and inhaling.

The first drag of smoke immediately calms him down. It doesn't matter if he is fidgeting, or anxious, or scared, when he inhales the world stops spinning and all his worries and insecurities disappear.

Billy stares at the parking lot, wondering how he ended up in a shit place like Hawkins, where the more exciting thing to do is go to the quarry, stare at the cliff, and wonder if to jump or not.

After smoking the cigarette to the filter, Billy gets back to class. There are just a few students left and Harrington is among them, still sitting at his desk with a big frown biting his pen anxiously.

"Time is up. Please give me your tests."

Harrington sighs, reads the questions one last time, and gives the test back to the teacher.

"Could you wait for a moment, Steve?"

The boy shrugs, his arms crossed in front of him to protect him from whatever the teacher is going to say to him.

When the teacher has collected everyone's assignment the only two students in the class are Billy and Steve.

"So, Steve, I know you are having some difficulties this year, but even if you left the basketball team to concentrate on your studies, I must say that it's not enough. I think you might take advantage of some tutoring. And I think that you and Billy could be a good match. So I wanted to suggest to Billy to tutor you to see if this can help your grades, what do you say?"

The chestnut-haired boy glares at the other guy "I'm sorry Mrs. Johnson but Billy and I... we can't study together." 

"I'm not saying that you have to become best friends, but Billy is the class's best student and I'm sure he could help you. And some tutoring would be good for you, Billy. You are really intelligent but your behavior is a little bit... explosive."

The blond-haired guy nods, he knows that his behavior is not the best and that tutoring someone would definitely look good on his college application. But he also knows that he can't stay in the same room as Harrington, it would be like putting two lions in the same cage.

"Overcoming your differences could benefit both of you.” Mrs. Johnson insists “Would you like to give it a try?"

Steve shrugs and glares at Billy, "Whatever he says."

If Harrington thinks that he is too coward to accept the challenge he is fucking wrong. "At your place, tonight, after basketball practice." It sounds like a threat, and maybe it is.

[foxymoxynoona]

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

[vickyvicarious]

So I've been rewatching a lot of period dramas lately and this got me thinking, Arthur's clearly from the upper class, but does the book ever actually specify what his title refers to? Viscount, baron, etc...? And Lucy's a socialite and would therefore be some kind of aristocrat, but I don't think the book ever gives specifics on her family background either, but correct me if I'm wrong! And while I'm at it, would the rest of the Crew be considered middle or working class?

Hmm, so I am definitely not one who has the best grasp of all these nuances myself, so I happily welcome any others who know more and want to correct me or add in what they know! That said, here's what I think...

Arthur is repeatedly referred to as 'Lord Godalming', at least once his father dies. That means he is officially a 'peer', a member of the House of Lords. There's several different ranks within this category though, and based on title alone he could be most of them (since most were commonly called 'Lord'). I found a post talking about the peerage for the context of the Sherlock Holmes stories which I think is pretty easy to understand, especially the little table of titles/roles.

Going off that source, it says that "all children of viscounts and barons were called the Honourable;" and when Jonathan is talking to Mitchell, Sons, & Candy the guy says this: "We once carried out a small matter of renting some chambers for him when he was the Honourable Arthur Holmwood." That would suggest that Art is either a viscount or a baron. Of the two I would lean towards viscount, simply because I think he is in the upper half of the hierarchy based on the way side characters tend to react to him. I don't know if there was ever any leeway to call the eldest/only son of an earl by that title, but if so then I kinda want him to be that, purely because it is the British equivalent of a count, and that would be a really neat tie-in to the various ways Arthur is contrasted to Dracula as good/bad nobility. (I could talk more on that but it probably deserves to be a separate post.) Admittedly I don't know enough about the nuance of relationships between different classes to know how high up the ladder he can go before his association with the others here would start raising eyebrows, but I like the idea a lot.

Arthur is the only character other than Dracula to get a (non-academic) title, so I don't think any of the other characters would be part of the peerage. However, I do think Quincey is very rich and probably of somewhat equivalent status for an American. I think Lucy is probably not officially there, because otherwise I feel like either she or Mrs. Westerna would have been addressed as 'lady' at some point, if only by people meeting them for the first time or who don't know them well. However, she's definitely of a social class where he association with Arthur is very acceptable, so she had to have been well-off. I imagine her from a well-established family who might not have a title but is still certainly part of the respectable crowd. Or if she did have a rank it would be lower but not outrageously so.

I think Jack would also be pretty equivalent to Lucy, since she introduces him as "well off, and of good birth" and his close association with both Arthur and Quincey would suggest he is certainly respectable enough to hang out with them/propose to the same woman. Lucy suggesting him as a possible option for Mina to marry if it weren't for Jonathan suggests that Mina might also have a nicer family background (as does, potentially, her friendship with Lucy). But if so, then her current status as orphan who works for a living and expects to have to make ends meet with Jonathan suggests that her family must have fallen on hard times and whatever respectability there was to her name is more lingering compared to the reality of her current situation. That's my best guess, but honestly it's kinda tricky to figure out and other people who know more about the time have been confused too.

I think Jonathan is definitely of the lowest class amongst our main cast. You can see this reflected as well in how they tend to address him more casually ("Harker") while he uses some form of title when speaking to the others ("Dr. Van Helsing, Lord Godalming, Dr. Seward, Mr. Morris"). He doesn't speak of his parents much, but we know he worked for Mr. Hawkins from a fairly young age, and started out as a clerk until recently, which was not a particularly well-paying job. I think he and Mina would be considered on the lower end of middle class - at least before they inherited everything Mr. Hawkins had, which it sounds like is a comfortable existence if not the extravagances that other characters would be more used to. That might bring them up closer to some of the other nontitled people, though not as high.

[dg-outlaw]

Finally read Absolute Wonder Woman #1

Review and some spoilers for this and Absolute Batman #1 below the cut.

So... Absolute Batman was intriguing and dark, especially with the brutality of the Party Animals gang. Those guys definitely need to feel the pain, assuming they're not being mind controlled or something. In which case, I hope their leader, Black Mask (?), feels the pain by the end of the run. Basically, the Absolute Universe is a pretty dark and edgy Elseworld. Time will tell if that pays off or if it's just a gimmick since DC has had some grand ideas lately, but has not had great follow through or good pay-offs (IMO) to those big concepts.

But... I think I enjoyed Wonder Woman's issue #1 more.

Per the description of the Absolute Universe, characters will relatively maintain their core identities/origins but exist in a world where they lack some of the advantages or support they have in the main universe. Bruce only lost Thomas and not Martha, and the Waynes aren't rich... sort of. He trained and learned things, etc. and somehow is able to do most Batman things, including having a giant ass mining truck for a Batmobile in issue #2 (upcoming). We'll see how that gets explained, if at all, but U.S. sticker price for one of those is $3.4 to 5 million dollars or more. But he's the middle-class son of a teacher and a social worker who lives in Crime Alley.

But I digress.

Absolute Wonder Woman. No Themyscira, no Amazons, just her... her skeleton horse, Pegasus, and her giant-ass sword, along with maybe a few other tricks up her sleeve. Oh, and she was raised in Hell by Circe. Yep. But is she evil? Doesn't seem that way. Especially after she arrives from Hell to kick ass and save people from some random demon monsters.

This all happens after an 'Up' (2009) style montage of baby Diana growing up into her adult self after being dumped on Circe's lap by Apollo. Circe, having previously been banished to Hell, wants nothing to do with the baby and is happy to let the monsters of the realm do their thing to the seemingly innocent infant would be snack. Alas, baby Diana proves that there's more to her than just being food for monsters, which intrigues the previously apathetic Circe. From there, we see a mother-daughter relationship unfold.

This issue went by fast, had some heartfelt moments, and had Diana likely inspiring some in-universe (or fan art) artists to paint 80s-style heavy metal murals on the side of vans. I can see the airbrush art now; the badass Amazon Princess from Hell. Rock on!

Needless to say, I'm eager to see where this runs goes since we didn't get much on why Diana is fighting these monsters (other than being a hero) and why they're are attacking the mortal world. Batman will inevitably Batman, but what will this Wonder Woman be like?

[rom-e-o]

Before the Wolves are a thing, Connie finding Bess bawling in her room because Wolf is going on an overseas business trip for a couple weeks and--and I quote: "He's probably gonna meet some beautiful, rich, boss babe, business-type woman who he can actually have an intelligent conversation with and has her crap together. And they'll start hanging out at all the conferences and events. And then they'll go sight-seeing. And then they'll go out to dinner. And then they'll start dating. And then they'll fall madly in love and have a romantic courtship and a really hot, fulfilling sex life. And then they'll get married and have this amazing wedding and honeymoon. And she'll be young enough that they'll get pregnant on the honeymoon, and I'll have to deliver their baby. And he'll forget all about me because I'm just some idiot, middle-class American girl who will never accomplish anything amazing and only met him because he happened to work with my father. And he'll go on to be happy with his amazing family and I'll die old and alone surrounded by a legion of cats because no one will ever want me and there's no other man in the world for me but him!"

"... Bess, honey, have you been drinking?"

"... Yes. But that doesn't change what's gonna happen with Wolf!"

Oh deaaar. Yes, poor woman does sound like the alcohol is talking a bit.

Connie just shimmying in and ever-so-gently taking the bottle she has if it’s close, and sitting beside her.

“First of all,” she gives her a gentle knock on the forehead. “You’re not an idiot. Not even close. You literally tend to people and help bring babies into this world. That’s insanely important work. Nobody cares if a pencil-pushing CEO doesn’t send enough emails a day. You, on the other hand, work in a world of real-life consequences and weight. That’s not nothing.”

“Sweetheart, you know Wolf isn’t that kind of guy,” she reassures. “He’s a handsome, billionaire bachelor. People throw themselves at him, but he’s never reciprocated. If he was that kind of guy to just settle for the first attractive woman that ever looked his way, I doubt he’d still be single. Heck, he could hop from marriage to marriage if he really wanted to. But he doesn’t. He’s a man looking for a relationship, not a fling.”

She gives her knee a squeeze.

“He connects with you way more than he connects with the people in these business meetings. Even if some woman tried to move in…could you see him being at all interested?”

“And if I’m wrong about EVERYTHING, well, we can be surrounded by each other and a legion of cats. Worse fates, yeah?”

[easybrainrot34]

Hot takes Haikyuu characters would have

These r silly ones that arnt too deep. I just think these r some "hot takes" these boys would have that would turn into hour long convos.

"If people diet shame you, like if u eat meat or r a vegetarian, r the biggest assholes. If I see one of u in the wild I'm going to throw baby carrots at you!!Let people eat what they wanna fuck wad!"

- Bokuto, Karoo, Daichi (this man will go into the "what do u want for people to do have an eating issuer??!!" part of it) Yamaguchi, Tendou, Tanaka (hello gym owner, personal trainer, man would go HARD)

"Y does anyone care about body count? Like y would it matter how many people someone has slept with before you?? It gets concerning only if it's like 15 20+ in a month bc.. like r u ok? Or like STD reasons but like ur an adult chances r uve has sex with more then one person. ALSO if ur keeping count of the number of people u've slept with and it's more then 10 y r u keeping count....that is such a frat boy hoe move"

- Ushijima, Akaashi, Tsukishima, Tanaka, Kuroo, Kiyoko, Saeko, kageyama, Meian, Atsumu (haikyuus resident fanon slut) Suna

“Why can't woman have hobbies without getting shit for it? Like if she likes sports she's a pick me, if she likes kpop she's weird, if she likes gaming she's just doing it for guys but if it's sims or animal crossing she's a fake gamer, matter of fact y can't they like certain artist without men quizzing them like they gotta know every fuckin detail about them?! Y do we as men think we gotta only have stuff and anyone else who likes it is fake??"

- Kenma, Suna, Tanaka (hes for the girls 💅🏻) Henita (protective older brother mode) Akaashi, Kiyoko, Yachi, Saeko (this will turn into a 45 min rant)

“Rich out of touch people need to stay in their own lane. Don’t try to act like ur “just a regular average Joe.” Their is nothing wrong with being famous or rich but it isn’t a relatable for an average middle class person and it just comes off as fake or patronizing.” 

- Kenma (I feel like bc he is an influencer he has this opinion strongly) Kuroo, Meian, Atsumu, Osamu, Tanaka (again bc I feel like he gets his fair share of athletes) Iwaizumi, Kageyama, Hinata (i feel like he doesn’t take any of the success he has for granted) 

“A man recognizing that another man is handsome shouldn’t be automatically considered them to possibly be gay. Why is it that if a man is comfortable in their sexuality it is seen as something praisable? Like if a woman do it it’s normal but if a man does it everyone is assuming they r gay. Like no we can be comfortable enough in our sexuality to be able to show this. Like it’s seen as not masculine and that is just silly. I can’t show emotion beside happiness or rage without being considered “feminine” ?? How dumb.”

- Atsumu, Bokuto, Kuroo, (i feel like both get passionate about this, because people questioned their sexuality/relationship in high school)  yamaguchi, Hinata, Nishinoya, Asahi, Kenma

Let me know if I should do a part 2 bc I could keep going but I literally almost ran out of hashtag room lol