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honeypirate · 3 years

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Flower in the Sun

AU where Beni has a mom (I don’t know if he doesn’t I just know about his adoptive father/master)

Benimaru x Fem!Reader

Not edited don’t hate me for the many mistakes

5.5k words

You tried to focus on the celebration, tried to let go of all the stress you felt right now, but it was difficult considering you JUST moved here less than a year ago, opened your shop in town and lived above it, and now your whole apartment/shop was obliterated. back to basically square one for who knows how long.

You sat by the edge of the celebration, chewing on your lip as you thought about your options. You’d have to move your shop back to the barn on the gardens you have outside of town but you didn’t get as much business that way.. plus you can’t really sleep there. You could move back in with your mother but she lived near company 3 and baked them a cake every sunday, your sisters family lived in the Shinjuku District but they were holy sol nuts and you really didn’t want to have to ask them of all people. So the barn was the only real option right now, no bed but at least it has a roof and a door with a lock. A voice cuts through your thoughts and you pay attention when you realize it belongs to Benimaru

‘If I wrecked your house last night feel free to stay at the guardhouse until it’s fixed. It won't take too long.” you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you watched those without homes gather around him for details, you pick yourself up and walk over to the group so you could hear what to do.

At the guard house you are directed to a small room at the back since you were just one person and not a family. You didn't mind that it was a small space or that you were farther away from anyone else, you were just grateful you could stay in Asakusa and keep your business running. You are told that you can help yourself to breakfast in the morning and dinner will be served for everyone at night and you were given a few essential toiletries.

When you are certain that everyone else staying there had used the showers, you gave it some extra time so that the hot water will replenish before you made your way silently down the quiet halls of the guard house.

You walk past a door that was open, you glance as you walk by and see Benimaru help bandage Konro, the sight brought a small smile to your lips as you continued your course to the showers.

Their conversation after you passed went something like this

“Waka”

“I saw her”

“She's beautiful. You should..”

“No”

Konro sighs “if you don't, maybe I wilL”

“You’re such a pain in the ass”

Your shower was amazing, they really spared no expense on the quality of shampoo and conditioner. You were so glad to not smell like smoke anymore as you changed into a new set of clothes, they were too big and just a fire force soldier shirt and jumper, but you didn't care. They were clean and comfortable. You folded your dirty clothes into a small stack and carried it back to your room, making a mental note to run to the clothing store in the next few days.

The next morning you are up at dawn, walking through the still quiet hallways towards the kitchen. You get warm in the baggy jumpsuit so you undo it halfway and tie the arms around your waist before you open the doorway. Inside there is a long table with different foods set out and at the end is Benimaru and Konro. You bow to them “thank you for letting me stay” you say, your voice as quiet as the morning. “I’m sorry for destroying your home.” Benimaru says and you rise, a smile on your lips as you make your way farther into the room before kneeling down in front of the table across from Konro.

“You’re Y/N L/N who owns the herb and flower shop” Konro says, recognizing you now that you were up close. You nod and reach out, grabbing some bread “yes I am, although my shop will now be run from the gardens just outside of town until it is rebuilt. My herb garden was on top of my apartment building so some special herbs will be out of stock for a while” you laugh and rip a piece of bread and put it in your mouth. “There is a garden behind the guardhouse that is hardly used, feel free to plant whatever you like” Benimaru says and you blush before bowing your head “thank you very much Captain Shinmon.” He frowns and Konro chuckles under his breath “just call me Benimaru” he says and you nod “of course. Benimaru” you notice the sunrise outside and stand again “thank you again, for breakfast as well” you say with a bow before leaving the room, your unfinished bread in your hand to finish on your way to the gardens. you had to set up your new shop in the barn on the flower farm you made sure to leave as early as you could since that would take a while, good thing you had one employee to help you, your close friend Jo.

One eye like a bullseye and one like an X. you couldn’t look away from him even if you wanted to. Here he was, in your shop, pursuing the already made bouquets you had made that morning and the potted plants Jo had taken care of. You watched him talk to Jo for a second from your spot at the back counter, before resuming his shopping.

You could hear Jo next to you saying your name but it didn’t register that she was talking to you until she walked in front of your vision “huh?” you ask and she glares “huh?! I have been practically shouting at you for the past five minutes. Could you take your eyes off of the Captain for a second please?” your cheeks turn red as you look down sheepishly “sorry Jo” you whisper and she laughs at you then says “he’s actually looking for you, oh flower master” you gasp and look up into her eyes “WHAT?” you practically shout and then crouch down behind the counter when you see his head turn. Your coworker leans over the side and says “and he’s coming this way now. good job dummy” before she leaves “fuuuck” you whisper and panic, how are you going to okay this off? “didn’t know you hated me this much y/n. Is it because I destroyed your home?”

You dip your head back to look up at his face which is now looking over at you as he leans over the counter. His facial expression was uninterested but he had curious eyes. His voice was monotone, like he had way more things to be doing than this mediocre errand. You pop to your feet, your face feeling like 100 degrees. “No!! I mean yes! I mean!Ugh” you sigh and close your eyes, stealing a moment before opening your eyes, a customer service smile and voice when you say “no, I dont hate you. Sorry i'm just a little flustered. How may i help you today?”

“I need some flowers and when you mentioned your garden at breakfast I thought I would come down. I need whatever says “i’m sorry for not coming to dinner for 5 months i still love you mom” you bite back a giggle as you think of his mom, a regular at your shop who would come just to talk “say no more, come with me and we will build you a perfect bouquet” he nods and you grab a flower basket and a knife, leading him out the side door into the garden.

“So these ones are blue hyacinths, they represent peace and truth” he hums before shaking his head “no” he says and you chuckle, leading him down a few rows before stopping again “these are called star of bethlehem, they mean reconciliation” he leans in close “i like these ones” he says and you smile “perfect” you say and reach out cutting a few and adding them to your basket before walking down a few more rows.

You spend half an hour looking around at the flowers and chatting easily. “So why haven't you been to dinner with your sweet mother? She comes in every once in a while and only has nothing but kind things to say about you” you ask while you finish the arrangement of star of bethlehem, yellow roses, white ivy flowers, spider mums, and lily of the valley. You spruced it up with some ivy greenery and the last of the rosemary and chamomile flowers in the shop, the seeds you’re going to plant back at the guard house were already in your bag in the back.

The bouquet you made was beautiful and you felt proud as you tied around a few ribbons “Just busy is all” he says and you hand the bouquet over “well, tell her y/n from the flower shop says hi” he nods “i will. thank you y/n” he says, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the flowers. “Will i see you at dinner?” he asks and you smile “wouldn't miss it” he nods “good Konro will stop asking me now” you chuckle, does that mean Konro likes you? You push the thought aside “have a good rest of your day, Benimaru” you say and he gives you a small smile “you as well” you notice the flush of pink on his neck as he exits the shop.

“Ohhh these are lovely! Are they from y/n’s garden??” Beni nods “she say’s hi by the way” his mom smiles and brings the flowers into the kitchen to grab a vase “that girl is so sweet, she always remembers FooFoo and if i bring her with she gives her treats.” Benimaru feels his heart warm as he crouches down to scratch the tiny head of the senior dog laying on the floor. “She moved her shop to her garden until it’s rebuilt” he says, remembering the way he felt her eyes on him in the store, the way her hair shown in the sunlight as she brought him around her garden, telling him about the means behind every flower he asked about, the way the conversation was easy. He found himself wanting to talk to her again, trying to find any reason to go back to your garden. “Benimaru!” his mom shouts and he looks up to her “sorry ma” he says and she just shakes her head with a smile “shes quite beautiful isnt she?” his mom says as she places the flowers in the vase “yeah” Beni says “she is”

When you get back to the guard house after work it’s already dark and quiet, you had a lot of work to do once you closed and it unfortunately made you miss dinner. You roll your shoulders as you take off your shoes by the back gate, picking them up as you walk into the back garden. You hum softly to yourself as you find a watering can and hose, filling it up halfway and bringing it with you over to the garden boxes filled with dry dirt. You chuckle at the sight “poor unfortunate neglected dirt, not for long tho” you whisper as you wet the soil, sure you could plant more things at your garden around your flowers but if you did both you'd have more supply when they were grown. Plus it was the perfect time to plant. You kneel by the garden box and mix up the soil so it was all wet and combined before planting the seeds. Unaware of the man on the back porch watching you as you went, a smile on his lips.

You snap your fingers and the hanging lanterns above you light, making your face glow as you look up and make eye contact with Benimaru, a smile on your lips when you notice his shocked expression. He recovers quick with a smile you can tell he’s trying to hide “you missed dinner” he states and you chuckle “I’m sorry to make you miss me” you say with a chuckle “Would you like to help me?” your voice was quiet but he heard it like it was right by his ear.

He stands from his spot and walks over to you, his feet making soft sounds when they hit the dirt. He kneels down next to you and you take his hands in yours, making him cup them, the dirt on your hands rubbing off on him. “Take some of these” you dump some seeds into his hands “and plant them in a row, a couple finger widths apart and a knuckle deep” he nods as he follows your orders, you start on another row and hum softly as you go.

“You’re a pyrokinetic” he says and you chuckle “kind of. I mean. I never had any training so I can’t fight or anything with it. Nothing compared to your talents. But technically yes” “You’ve watched me so often you know of my talents?” he asks and you watch as his fingers push seeds into a neat row. You chuckle “yes, im not ashamed to say it. You’re captivating and insanely talented.” His cheeks flush and he clears his throat “is..is this right?” He asks and pulls his dirt covered empty hands away “that’s perfect Beni” he holds his hand out for more seeds and you smile as you pour some more into his palm.

“These are chamomiles, one of my favorites although common” you say “why do you like it?” he asks and you feel your stomach birth a butterfly or two “when i was younger, my grandma owned the flower garden. She would plant beautiful flowers and let me pick whichever ones I wanted. Then at the end of the day she would let me go pick as many chamomile flowers as i wanted so she could make tea. As we drank tea should tell me stories, I love chamomile because it reminds me of quality time and the stories that can be shared over a good cup of tea”

You finish your story as you both finish planting. You wipe your hands off on your pants as you stand up with him “thank you for your help” you say with a smile that he returns “thank you for the story” you nod “anytime Benimaru” he picks up your shoes and hands them to you before he puts the watering can back and disappears inside the guard house.

You snap your fingers as you walk inside, the lanterns going out before you close the door.

You don’t see Benimaru for the next few days, he wasn’t there for breakfast or dinner, you guess he has fire force duties that keeps him busy but you can't help but wonder how he is.

You get home from work late again, a wedding coming up that has been keeping you busy. You shower and then make your way through the guardhouse to the kitchen, it’s quieter than usual, a few families homes are already built and yours should be soon as well. You walk into the kitchen and smile when you see Beni already there “hi” you whisper as you shuffle to the cupboard to grab a mug and some tea “hi y/n” he says when you stand next to him at the stove, the tea kettle already heating up “can’t sleep?” you ask and he nods. You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how bloodshot they look. You hum in response and frown at the response your heart had when you saw him. Like you wished you could take care of him and rub his back while he lays in bed. “Are you just getting back?” he asks and you nod and cover your mouth as you yawn “yeah. Mrs. Kim’s daughter is getting married sunday and I’ve been making all the arrangements. White peonies, lavender, and ivy, it’s gorgeous” he notices the bandages on your fingers and dark circles under your eyes that almost match his. He wants nothing more to hold you while you both fall asleep. He’s so sleep deprived and he can see you are as well, but his thoughts are cut off by the whistle of the pot. “Do you wanna sit?” he asks and you nod with a smile.

You sit and talk at the little table in the kitchen, the only light coming from the one hanging above the table. It felt like you were in your own world as you talked and shared stories, laughing at the many things he told you about growing up and meeting Konro.

You told him more stories about your grandma, about your childhood. You bonded over mutual feelings for religion and politics, over what you want for the future. Before long you’ve finished a cup of chamomile tea and your second cup has gone cold, at some point he grabbed your hands and was now playing with your fingertips as he told you the story of how he became captain, sharing his fears with you in the safe space of the quiet kitchen. “I think I will always believe that Konro could have been better at this than me” he whispers and you lean forward, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead before cupping his cheek “for what it’s worth, I think you are perfect” you hear his breath catch as his eyes look up into yours “perfect for this company, for this town. I talk to many of the people who live here and I have only ever heard praise and kindness for you. Your people love you. I know you don't like sweets that much but I’ve seen you accept them AND eat them and that says so much about you. People always give you so many gifts because it’s the only way we know how to give back, to you and the company for protecting the people and always being there.” Your hand slips as you go to move it from his cheek but he moves his hand up, covering yours and holding it in place.

“You may not feel worthy of this mantle, Waka” you smirk and give him a sweet look, knowing about his nickname and using it in this context makes his heart race as a small chuckle escapes his throat. “And no matter what i say, you can live with what makes you comfortable. But know that you are ultimately not living the truth.” He ponders your words for a moment and brings his hand down, taking yours with it. “The truth being that you DO deserve this position. You ARE worthy. You ARE the best and most qualified for this” his fingers laced together with yours “and you have the support of your team and basically the whole city...” your cheeks blush and you look down at your hands together against the table “and you have mine as well” you whisper

Benimaru was gone the next few days, Konro as well. Leaving you in the guard house as more and more families left, able to go back to their newly built homes until only a few of you remained.

Your bare feet plop along the wooden floor, echoing in the empty quiet hallway as you make your way to the back. Your long duster cardigan hitting the back of your ankles and making your shorts and tank top seem even more cozier. The sound of birds makes you smile as you take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, walking to the little garden with a watering can in your hand.

“Good morning” he said softly, his voice strained and tired. You smile and your head snaps up to look at him, your smile falling as you take him in.

You set down the watering can and stand, making your way to him in an instant. “Are you okay?” You ask, your hands reach for him but stop a short distance away. His face had a bandage on his cheek and forehead, his left hand wrapped, and a bruise forming around his left eye. “Just a couple scratches is all” he says, taking one of your hands with his right hand and slowly leads you back to the plants. “They’re growing nicely” he says as he looks down at the sprouts, already a little tall and poking out of the dirt in just a week.

He drops your hand to pick up the watering can, raining down the cool liquid over your plants, the dry lightened dirt turning dark brown. “You’re going to work?” He asks and you shrug “I don’t have anything special to do today, and if I’m being honest” you blush and take the can from his hand, walking to put it away so you didn’t have to look at him “I wanted to go in today so I didn’t think about how much I wanted to talk to you”

His breath catches and his wounds don’t even throb anymore, he wasn’t paying attention. All that matters is the soft way your voice reached his ears, saying something he didn’t even realize he was hoping for. You’ve been missing him, just as much as he seemed to miss you. “Will you get some breakfast with me?” He asks, his voice normal, hiding every anxiety and feeling deep in his heart, but as you turned and met his eye you could see the hope he's feeling in them.

“I was thinking” you say after Konro excuses himself from breakfast, leaving you and Beni alone. “Could you.. I mean. Do you know of anyone who could train me with my abilities? If it’s possible I could get stronger then I want to” your hands are in closed fists against your thighs and you me eyes shone with the determination you feel. He chuckles softly, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth and thinking as he chews. “I think I could figure something out. Tomorrow night work for you?” You beam at him, grinning from ear to ear with excitement “that works perfect!” You place your hand on his arm that rests against the table “Thank you Benimaru” you say softly and he nods, trying desperately to suppress the blush he feels is imminent.

The next evening you went out to check your ganden before you were supposed to train, you hoped that he had found someone nice to help you. “Are you ready?” He asks behind you and you smile while you stand from your place by the small growing herbs “as I’ll ever be! Who will you have train me?” You ask and meet his eyes, raising yours brows in question, noticing his face was without his bandages today and his wounds really did look like scratches. “I will” he states and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You take a couple steps towards him “no!” You exclaim louder than intended and you laugh once awkwardly as his eyebrows raise “I mean. You’re hurt! and my power is so low it’s not worth your time. I’ve seen the boys you train! their power and skill is levels higher than me” he walks over to you, setting his right hand on your shoulder and leaning down to your ear “I want to” he whispers and your cheeks dust pink as a small gasp leaves your throat, oh how he desperately loved that sound. He pulls back with a smirk “and I’ve said” he raises his left hand that still had a small bandage around his palm “it’s just a scratch” he begins to walk away from you, over to the training space and you’re stunned for a few moments. Standing there and watching his back as he walked away, your heartbeat racing and your brain empty save it for the way Benimaru’s breath tickled your ear.

“Well?” He asks when he realizes you’re not following him, turning back and looking at you with daring eyes, snapping you back into reality. Your smile spreads and the sight sends him over the moon, a feeling invading his heart that he’s become enamored with these past few days having you at the guardhouse. You were the sun slowly rising in his life, and he was drawn to your warmth. “Let’s do this” you say as you reach his side, the back of your hand brushing his for only a moment but it sends fireworks up his arm.

“Show me what you can do, outside of lanterns” he says as he stands to the side, his eyes taking in your form as you stand facing him. You hold up your hands and nod once, the tip of each finger igniting in small flames. “I can’t make them bigger but I can do..” you tighten each flame to smaller tips, growing in power and heat until they blazed like the head of welding guns. He nods once “she’s more powerful than she realizes” he thinks as he watches the flames reflecting your eyes.

“That’s good” he says as he approaches you “is this all you know how to do?” He asks as he takes a hold of your wrists gently, turning your hands and looking at your flames. “I couldn’t really practice a lot growing up so this is it unfortunately” he chuckles once, mostly just air from his nose, but it made you smile anyway. “Can you control which fingers or..” before he finishes you start randomly lighting and unlighting fingertips. “Now try to shoot the flames out” he says and you nod, trying to push the flames out but just ending up breaking a sweat and flashing your flames, not going anywhere else.

After fifteen minutes of absolutely nothing happening you sigh and flung your hands up in the air “I can not be this WEAK” you exclaim and shake them as you scowl. He sighs and comes over to you, reaching up and smoothing out your eyebrows gently before holding his hands out to you.

You hesitate, your hands almost being set in his before you pause and he raises his eyebrows “chicken” he whispers and you drop your hands against his “tch” he clicks his tongue and you roll your eyes as he uses his thumbs and first two fingers to rub your wrist gently “it’s your first test. Relax” he says, his fingers moving to the middle of your hand “there are many other things we’ll try, none of which make you weak if you can’t do them” goosebumps running down your spine as he moves down each finger, your breath catching in your throat with how gentle he was being with you and how nice it felt for him to be doing this to your hands, another sound that he found he adored. He brings your hands up and kisses each knuckle softly, effectively short wiring your brain yet again. “Try again” he whispers, letting your hands go and standing back again.

You took a deep shaky breath and closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the warmth he has ignited in your heart, before opening your eyes and shoving your hands out, each finger popping as flames, strong, bright blue flames, shoot from each finger.

“BENIMARU!” You shout and laugh, dropping the flames and turning to run and throw your arms around his neck “oof” he mumbles as you hit him, his arms wrapping around you to keep you both stable. “I did it! I did it! I did it!” He sighs softly into your hair, “I saw” he whispered “wanna find out what else you can do?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head. You squeeze him closer for a moment before pulling back “does this mean I should call you my Senpai? Or my Captain?” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the blush that rose to his cheeks “No.” he says, but you laugh when he won’t meet your eye.

“You’ve come a long way for just a few hours” he says as you walk back to the garden, the sun beginning to set “you’re a really amazing teacher” you lean in close “Captain” you whisper before making a turn for the hose. He stops in his tracks after you whispered, his heart fluttering in his chest as he forces himself to calm down before turning and walking over to you

You look up to him from where you were crouched, running hose in one hand after you washed your face and the back of your neck. “You look a little flushed” you say as he crouches by you, reaching out for the hose. He just Humphs as you move the water closer to him, a smirk in your lips and mischief in his eyes that he would have known right away had he looked up at you.

Your thumb covers the end just so as he leans down, raising the pressure as it hits his hands spraying his face as well. You chuckle before placing your fingers against your lips, holding in as much of your giggles as you could. He slowly looks up into your eyes, water droplets falling from his hair and nose, he was annoyed for half of a second until he meets your eyes, notices the sweet mischief in your eyes and hears your soft giggles as they leave your lips. “Did you just..” you nod and slowly stand to back away from him, the mischief rising to his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He stands and takes one step towards you and you raise your emotu hand, “WAIT” you say and he stops “we.. we can talk about this..” you say with a smile, giggles escaping with every exhale. “I think we’re too far past talking about this” he says before he moves, quick with his hand out towards the hose but you scream and try to run, spraying him behind you as he gets closer. He laughs as he grabs you, his arms wrapping around your middle from behind not caring about the cool hose water that was currently soaking him. He reaches up and takes the hose from your hand and turns you around before smiling and slowly running the water across the back of your head then across both of your shoulders making you gasp and tense in his hold. “I think we’re even now” you say with a shiver and a laugh and he cocks his head “not yet” he says softly, his hands reaching up to tuck your damp hair behind your ears.

You gasp, his cold fingers cooling off your warm cheeks as he cups your face. The hose forgotten about, dropped on the grass by your feet, soaking the earth and making your toes muddy. But nothing else matters besides the way he’s looking at you and the way the sun is turning the sky red behind him.

Your hands grip the sides of his soaked shirt as you lean into him “and how, tell me, can we make it even?” You ask, following his hands with your face as he pulls you closer, his body curving forward as you lean forward on your tip toes, brushing your nose against his making his breath hitch “can I show you?” He whispers and you nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he closes the last inch between your lips.

Kissing him felt like the first breath of fresh air after an infernal has been put to rest. Felt like the first relaxing step into a hot spring. It sends goosebumps from your head to his toes before being followed by electricity making your skin tingle. Fireworks dance across the backs of your eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tight against him. You sigh as your heart sways within your chest, comforting and warm as he holds you like his lifeline.

His thumb brushes softly against your cheek when he pulls away. Your hands smooth out his shirt before running your hands up his wet chest, his hands moving down to both rest against your waist. You can’t think of anything to say, just savoring the moment as you look into his eyes.

“Are you guys coming to dinner?” The twins say from the porch, effectively startling the hell out of you. You gasp and clutch your heart as Beni just smiles down at you, his back to them. “Thanks. We’ll be there in a minute” he says and they skip off. “We should get going. We’re gonna get sick” you say and reach up, running a hand through your damp hair. He reaches down and turns off the hose as you gather it, putting it away correctly and he reaches out, hooking his fingers with yours. “Mom will kill me if you get sick” he says softly and you laugh “maybe you could.. help me clean up. Make sure I don’t get sick” he coughs a few times, choking on his spit in shock and you laugh “Beni” you say softly and pause in the doorway, looking up at him. “I’m playing. I really like you. I’d like to take it as slow or fast as we both are comfortable with, okay?” You reach up and ruffle his damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes. His cheeks flush and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours as your eyes close. “I adore you” he whispers and your heart flutters. “Let’s go get cleaned up” he whispers and squeezes your hand, guiding you along with him to the showers.

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themfchase · 4 years

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endings & beginnings | jjk (m)

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

‒ ending and beginnings. (m) one-shot. ✎ [14k words]

genre: supernatural!au, childhood friends!au.

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), slight dirty talk, slight choking, (jk has a massive dong), an absurd amount of scoffing and eye rolling, lowkey pining, angst, hhh angst again, mentions of blood, mentions of car accident, mentions of death and grief. physics or spiritual physics mean nothing here, don’t judge me. After the sad passing of your grandmother, you take on the task to pack up her things so you can sell the house, but you’re interrupted by someone you haven’t seen in years, and oh, he’s hurt. N/A: This is based on a movie plot, but I don’t wanna say the movie because I don’t want to give it away, but, I decided to write a little supernatural type au for the spooky season, and of course, I’m a lover of angst, so, I’m giving you all this. I really hope you like it, and if you do, please remember to press that heart and reblog button! It helps a lot. And please, never hesitate to send me messages! I really love receiving them!

Death. It was truly a mysterious thing. The concept of death. Humans gave it a meaning, as if life was only but a preparation for what was to come in the afterlife. Heaven, Hell, Oblivion. It didn’t really matter to you. And no matter how many years you spent in Sunday school, learning about sin and how it was a currency that either allowed you to enter the peaceful realms of the afterlife or the eternal suffering of the underworld, it still meant nothing to you. But still, you prayed for forgiveness as a child, your grandmother right there beside you clutching her rosemary tightly in her fists with screwed shut eyes and mumbling apologies in hopes for redemption. You wonder if she found what she was looking for, and it was almost a bittersweet thought as you looked down at her lifeless body, neatly resting in the casket. She looked peaceful, at least. Maybe that meant something. And even if death for some reason meant nothing to you, you still couldn’t hold back the quiet tears that rolled down your cheeks. This woman raised you. She raised you into the strong woman you were today. With your own business, no longer struggling to put food on the table, but now able to send her money every week, to give her the life she deserved. Because she was one hell of a woman, that you can say, from the years she raised you. Resilient, strong, and all by herself when your parents suffered a terrible fate in a car accident when you were only a toddler. Come to think of it, you were quite familiar with death. It had visited you one too many times. Maybe that was why you didn’t care for it. For what was to come, because, in the end, death would be everyone’s end. And some may say it’s a sad life, to not really think there is anything at all once you die. That your brain simply shuts and then there is a lot of nothing. No, you weren’t skeptical; you believed in... Something. Science, nature perhaps. You believed that it didn’t matter if our subconscious continued to echo through the air giving us a fake sense of the afterlife or if in fact; we were reborn in another life. Because death was death. And for you, and everyone else, it was inevitable. Just as inevitable as having to come back to this town, back down to the old farmhouse where you were raised, three hours from the city you lived in, to clean out your grandmother’s things. Ever since she was sent to the hospital, a buyer was interested in the large land, offering a good price on it once she passed. And people called you cold, that you’d even negotiate with a man while your grandmother was in her deathbed, but the reality was that you hadn’t been to this town in almost ten years, and you and the doctors knew she wasn’t going to make it. You loved her, you truly did. You were grateful for everything she had done for you. But what were you supposed to do? Keep the house there, gathering dust while you went back to your penthouse in a busy city and forgot about it altogether? No, that wouldn’t be fair to your grandmother. If you weren’t going to take care of the house, you could at least put it to good use. And you thought about maybe renovating it, putting it on Airbnb for some backpackers that would eventually stop by the town. You were still pondering on that idea even while you drove into the driveway, coming from the small meek motel just three blocks from the funeral home where everyone mourned the town’s loss. And even looking at it as you parked, one single bagel from Cindy’s Diner hanging in your mouth and a cup of Iced coffee you had to explain to Cindy’s daughter how to make, it looked... Exactly as it did ten years ago when you left. Three floors, with hard oak walls and, resin painted wood on the outside, vines that crept upwards midway past the second floor, but never too close to the windows, a vast wooden front porch with two swings on each side of the door and the large tainted glass windows from the living room and kitchen, reminding you of the same ones you saw in Sunday school. It was almost a smaller wooden castle, too many bedrooms for just the two of you as you grew up, but enough that you became really good at hide and seek. It was still the same, and you sighed. You had some amazing memories here, that was true. Bonfires with your grandmother as she told you scary stories, your neighbors coming down to play with the hose when it was really hot. You even remembered trying to build a treehouse with your grandma, but you never finished because rain season started. And the sky looked just like it looked right now, dark rumbling clouds closing in, nothing but the vast field behind the house and the faraway mountains on the horizon. Before the thick raindrops began its descent you rushed out of the car, chewing on the piece of bagel as you rushed to the back seat to grab your bags, deciding to leave the unfolded cardboard boxes there and maybe get them later once the rain calmed down. Rushing up the driveway with your large bag of clothes in your hand, the rain began to pour just a few feet away from the porch, and you let out a little shriek at the cold drops hitting your skin, making you run a little faster. Finally, under the protection of the front porch, you dug into your pockets for the keys, rummaging through both front pockets and the single pack pocket. You were sure they were there, and you huffed in annoyance, a little wet already as you put two and two together and remembered the iced coffee in your cupholder and the keys right beside it. You grunted, throwing your head back and gazing towards your black car. The rain was pouring down hard and from what you remembered, chances were it wouldn’t stop soon, so placing your bag right beside the door you took in a deep breath and ran for your car as raindrops soaked right through your clothes. Opening the car door and quickly reaching for the keys, you made your way back to the porch now dripping wet from the unforgiving rain that had started. Finally opening the thick wooden door, it screeched open, showing that it hadn't been used in the six months that your grandmother made the hospital her permanent home. You shoved your bag in with your feet before finally closing the door behind you. It was quiet. Well, other than the harsh rain that hit against the windows and wood, the house was dark and quiet, a little gruesome too. You rested your back against the door, head falling back as you took in a deep breath. You opened your eyes and let them roam through the house, the open kitchen, and the large living room. No television. Quickly taking out your phone, you huffed once again, no service either. You were thankful that you left your catering business in good hands with Jimin, your partner, back in town, so even without service, you knew there was really no good reason for him to reach out other than to chat. Finally, pulling away from the door, you flick on the lights, the old yellow lamps flickering before it illuminated the space, and it suddenly felt normal again, just like it did when you were a kid. It almost felt like home. Sighing, you picked up your bag and placed it right beside the couch, walking towards the laundry room to retrieve a dry and clean towel you knew your grandmother always had in case she had any visitors and you began to dry your hair already walking back to the living room to open your bag for a fresh pair of clothes to change into. Maybe you’d take a shower before you made something to eat. The sun would be setting soon anyway, so there was really no point in starting to pack anything today and the rain really didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon. If you remembered correctly, sometimes it rained like this for days on end, the roads rather dangerous, some even closing down. You remembered how on days like these, school was canceled, and you could stay home and play all day, have tea parties, bake and cook with your grandma. You smiled fondly at the memory as you found a white shirt and some sweat pants from your bag, and just as you were standing up to strip from your wet clothes, three loud knocks to the door startled you. With your heart now beating in your throat and a hand lifted to your chest, you looked at the door. Who could it be? Eyes moving to the clock just above the kitchen sink, it read seven pm. When did time pass so fast? You had just― Three more loud knocks. Blinking at the door, you finally decided to walk towards it, not even thinking before you unlocked and opened. In reality, the town had always been safe, and maybe it was your big city fears creeping up on you but the sight of a wet man with his head down and hands resting on each side of the door had you startled, eyes bulging slightly as you couldn’t make out his face in the dark, your hand blindly reached out to the light switch beside the door, the one that turned on the porch lights and you flicked it on, the man lifting his face to you. Oh. He seemed familiar, and he was young, about your age. Black, wet shirt hugging his strong and muscular frame tightly, making your eyes move to the bulge of his biceps and veins that dripped with water, then your eyes moved to his strong shoulders and up to his thick neck before landing on his defined jaw that also dripped with water and blood― Wait, blood! “Oh my god, are you ok?!” You asked, one hand coming to cover your mouth in your loud surprised reaction as you noticed he had a small cut right above his thick eyebrow. He smiled, well, smirked almost as he let out an airy chuckle. And oof, if that wasn’t the most charming smile you have ever seen, despite the blood dripping down the side of his face. “I, well― I need some help, is your grandmother home?” He asked looking into the house, now standing fully, towering over you. The mention of your grandmother had your mouth closing. Who was this guy and how did he know who lived here? And well, if he did, it was unfortunate that he didn’t know that she had passed the day before. “I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked, and even if you tried not to sound condescending, you did, and he lifted the brow that wasn’t hurt. “You seriously don’t recognize me, Y/N?” He asked and crossed his strong arms over his chest. He knew your name, and yeah, he did look familiar, but he seemed to remember you a lot better than you remembered him. At your silence, he chuckled again. “Jungkook.” He said, and the name had memories rushing back like a tidal wave. “We used to make mud pies together, I’m offended that you don’t remember, you ate them with vigor.” He joked, and you laughed, pursing your lips right after. “Shit, I’m sorry, you look so...” Hot. “Different.” He smiled wide, now letting his hands down, moving into his front pockets. “So do you, it’s been what... Fifteen? Sixteen years?” He asked, and you nodded, crossed your arms, and resting your shoulder on the door frame. In a perfect world, you would be able to gawk at his wet body without being caught, but in this world. He tilts his head to the side and flicks his tongue out once he notices your eyes roaming, giving you a quick once over himself. “So uh... Is your grandmother home, I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere...” He trailed off as if unable to remember exactly where. “...and it won’t start back up. I cut my eyebrow, I was wondering if she could take a look at it for me.” He took you out of your thoughts and you blinked a few times, leaning away from the door frame. “Oh... My grandma... passed away yesterday.” Your voice was a lot lower than you expected and Jungkook’s eyes bulged slightly, lips parting as if he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what to say. “I uh, I’m here to pack her things.” You nibbled on your lower lip, nodding before you cleared your throat. “Would you like to come in, though? I can take a look at it for you.” You made way, and he just nodded, coming inside. Closing the door behind you, you watched Jungkook take a few steps inside, his back to you as his eyes roamed the house. Memories of his own coming to play. “You can take a seat at the kitchen table, I’ll get the first aid kit.” You said making your way to the cabinet under the kitchen sink. You could barely hear him move, but once you grabbed the small white box, he was there seated quietly, looking at you. How could you forget Jungkook, anyway? You spent most of your childhood with him, playing in the backyard, sometimes going to his house for sleepovers, even if it was far from the farmhouse. You both were inseparable before his parents divorced and his mother moved to the city, taking him along with her, and you never saw him again. Not until now. As you took out the gauze, antiseptic, and some surgical tape you watched him look almost uncomfortable, looking around the empty house before looking at you. You knew what he wanted to say, he had that look in his eyes, the “shit, you lost someone and I’m really uncomfortable because I have no idea what that’s like, but I still want to show you some sympathy” look, and you took in a deep breath. “You don’t have to say it, you know, I heard it at least fifty times yesterday.” You spoke softly as you took one cotton ball and swiped gently at the cut. “Say what?” He asked, looking up at you, not even flinching as you cleaned his wound. “You know... I’m sorry for your loss and stuff.” You shrugged, taking another cotton ball and soaking it in antiseptic. “Oh...” He said, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “I am though... I loved your grandmother.” He sighed, and you smiled softly, looking at a now clean wound. It didn’t look deep, but you were no expert. It did seem as if he had bled a lot, so you decided to wrap it before it started to bleed again. “Well, thanks, everyone loved my grandma, she was amazing.” You said softly as you began to tape the gauze to his cut, never once did he complain of pain. With the close proximity and the uncomfortable silence, you cleared your throat. “So... Did you move back here?” You asked, and he shook his head. “No... My father is getting too old to come down to the city now and then, so I decided to come here for a change, I’m only in town for a little while.” He answered, looking out the kitchen window to the rain still pouring out. “How is life here, anyway? I haven’t been here since forever.” He shook his head as you slowly ― tried to ― tape the gauze in place. “I wouldn’t know, haven’t been here for the last ten years. Left for college at 17, didn’t come back.” You shrugged, reaching for another piece of tape before leaning back into him. “Where did you go?” He asked, and you leaned back, blinking at his question. “Oh, you mean for school? McKenzie Brown.” You said and his eyes bulged. “No fucking way. So did I! How did we not cross each other on campus?” He seemed excited, and it just showed his boyish ways, a contrast to the very manly muscles on his body and that smirk he had given you earlier. Chuckling, you were also surprised that you had both gone to the same college, but yet, never crossed paths. It wasn’t really that hard to believe, given the university you were accepted to was very, very big, with a lot of students and up to 100 per class. “Guess life didn’t want us to.” You shrugged, and he shook his head. “Fucking coincidence. I was kinda famous back in school.” He said, looking down at his lap and you lifted a brow, making him look up at you and chuckle. “All I’m saying is that I had some fun, had a reputation.” Your smile widened, and you squinted your eyes, even if you both haven’t seen each other in sixteen years, somehow it didn’t really feel like you were strangers. “Are you telling me, that Jeon Jungkook, the cute, bunny teeth kid that made me mud pies and held my hand when we crossed the street, was a fuckboy?” You laughed as you finally finished wrapping him up. His mouth opened almost to protest, but instead of that, he shrugged, and a smirk spread on his lips. “Who said anything about was?” A loud scoff left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Truly, it was hot. He was hot, that was undeniable. But to imagine this man that was here in your kitchen as a fuckboy was truly something you weren’t ready to let your mind wander off. Wonder off to how many people he’s slept with, how much experience he must have. You cleared your throat. “All done.” Was all you said as you got up. With his clothes still wet and yours too, you threw the soiled cotton balls away and directed him to the bathroom where he could wash the blood that had dripped down his face. Once he made his way back, you stood by the door with the pair of fresh clothes in your hands, ready to bid him goodbye, but instead, he walked mid way and sat on the handrest of the couch. “You said you were packing her things, why?” He crossed his arms again, your eyes shot to his very wet clothes against the couch and you blinked at his question. “I’m selling the house.” You said and started making your way towards the door, still hearing the rain rumble aggressively outside. “Wait, what? You can’t sell the house!” He stood up, a look of outrage in his eyes. You turned around and looked back at him with an incredulous look on your face. “Excuse me?” You questioned, blinking in disbelief. “You can’t sell the house! This house has... Has a shit ton of memories and it’s a place where you can raise your kids! You’re just going to sell it to some stranger who’s probably going to turn it into another cellphone tower?” He sounded annoyed, irritated even. “This is my house, and if I want to sell it to someone who wants to turn it into a fucking strip club or whatever, I will.” You crossed your arms, and he furrowed his brows. Truly, you wouldn’t, not that you had anything against strip clubs, but you wouldn’t want your grandmother’s holy name to go to dust in a conservative town like this. “And if anything, this town could use a freaking cellphone tower, since there is no service here!” You shrugged as if it was obvious. “Wow, didn’t take you for a heartless bitch.” Now that was the last straw. It was almost as if the funny, charming Jungkook from before had vanished in a blink of an eye and all you could see right now was a condescending, nosy ― but hot ― stranger making demands and offending you. “Get out.” You said calmly, crossing your arms. Jungkook gave you a pointed look, a scoff leaving him. “You’re going to kick me out in this rain?” He raised a brow. “Well, you somehow made your way here in this rain, I’m sure you can make your way back.” Maybe you were a heartless bitch. And your ex-boyfriends might agree, but the truth was, you didn’t like anyone making decisions for you, if anything, you didn’t like men making decisions for you. “Oh, don’t worry your spoiled little ass, I’ll leave in a second, just gotta remember where...” He began walking towards the door and stopped midway, his voice slurring. He stumbled a little, one hand moving up to the wrapped cut. “Remember where my... my car...” He shook his head, as if unable to see straight, and even if you were irritated, your mind and body quickly went into action, walking towards him to keep him steady. “Jungkook?” You called softly, and he leaned against your hand, unfocused eyes looking for you. He didn’t look good, the once white gauze now with a bright red spot where the blood seeped through. “Hey, why don’t you sit down a little, you might have hit your head a little harder than you thought.” You continue to speak softly, slowly maneuvering him towards the couch. You sat him down with a thud, a huff leaving him as his head lolled in his hand. From the few medical documentaries you’ve watched in the past, you knew that if he had a concussion, sleeping right now wasn’t the best idea. “I’m going to get you some dry clothes and make us some coffee, I think you better stay here tonight.” You look out the window, he surely wouldn’t have made it back to his car. A minute ago you were ready to kick him out into the rain because of your irritation, now you would have regretted it if anything had happened to him, had you done so. Sighing, you quickly made your way to your grandmother’s closet where she still kept a few of your father’s clothes and you took a large shirt and some sweats, just like your own. Making your way back down, Jungkook still sat there with his head between his hands. He looked up at you once you made your way to him and reached out for the clothes. “Feeling a little better?” You asked, pursing your lips. “Yeah, just... Dizzy.” He admitted, not looking at you. “I’m... Sorry. I’m sorry. That was way out of line.” He blurted out, looking up at you as he took in a deep breath. You pondered on it for a few seconds, you both were friends once, even if you were children, he wasn’t a complete stranger and that meant that you still nurtured some type of fondness over him ― and no, it wasn’t only because he glowed up. “We’re cool. Just don’t call me a bitch again, or a brat, otherwise, I’ll probably give you another concussion” That made him chuckle, and you laughed back. “Anyway, get dressed, we’re going to end up sick if we stay in these clothes.” Jungkook nodded, immediately reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, and you didn’t have time to turn around before his bare torso ― and abs― came into view. Oh, he was truly a sight to see, wet locks falling down his face, damp, glowing skin in the dim yellow lights of the house, ripples of his abs and thin waist so well defined, if your mouth wasn’t agape before, it was now and you caught yourself, turning around to give him some privacy. “Please, as if I didn’t catch you checking me out at the door.” He scoffed, you couldn’t see him, only hear the sound of ruffling clothes. “I wasn’t checking you out!” You defended yourself, not looking at him and not sounding convincing at all. “You were totally checking me out, I was checking you out too.” Yeah, you were checking him out, but him checking you out? That was new information. Not that you weren’t worthy of being checked out, in fact, you were very confident in yourself, not because of your looks, but because you knew that success was written all over your face and that was enough reason for men to find you attractive. “Figures.” You smirked, arms crossing over your chest. Jungkook rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it and you could hear him standing up, probably changing out of his wet pants. You waited patiently, very tempted to peek, see what he was hiding behind those pants. You had noticed how firm and thick his thighs looked in those dark, wet pants. “You can turn around now.” He informed, and you quickly turned, seeing him in the cozy clothes you had picked out. It wasn’t that you remembered because you didn’t, but seeing Jungkook in your father’s clothes made it all very... Domestic. You quickly swallowed as you looked him down and grinned. “Ok, I’m... I’m going to go change and make us some coffee, don’t fall asleep.” You informed, and he sat back down, folding his wet clothes. You were glad that there was at least coffee in the pantry, because food? Other than some crackers and powdered eggs, none of that. You made a mental note to go get some tomorrow if you were meant to spend the week here. You picked up the two mugs and made your way to the living room where Jungkook sat quietly, looking around. Handing him his mug, he took it with a quiet “thank you” before you sat on the armchair right in front of him. It was awkward now. Both of you quiet as you sipped on the hot coffee in your now dry clothes and looked around, it was uncomfortably quiet until― “I can’t believe you’re selling this house.” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “Well, what do you expect me to do? It’s not like I live here, I haven’t lived here in ten years!” Jungkook sat closer to the edge of the couch. “Maybe not now, but what about in, like, a couple of years when you get married and have kids, wouldn’t you want to settle down in a peaceful place like this?” He stated as if it was obvious. “What makes you think I want kids? What makes you think I even want to get married?” You gave him a pointed look. And he was quiet, thinking for a while. “Well, I assumed you were the type...” His voice was more hesitant. “You assume a lot of things about me, apparently. Besides, if you’re so into the whole traditional family thing, why don’t you move back to town and all that jazz?” With that, Jungkook rested back against the couch, laughing bitterly and shaking his head. “Me? No, no. I don’t believe in marriage.” It was your turn to scoff. “And yet you were expecting me to believe in it?” You took a sip of your coffee. “No, I have no plans of getting married, my business is thriving and I’m making a shit load of money, I have no need for a man.” You looked down at your mug and Jungkook went quiet. You flicked your gaze to him, confused at his silence, and you were met with an intense look right back at you. “What?” You asked. “Are you straight?” He asked, and you almost choked on your own spit. “Why does it matter?!” You were appalled by his question. “Well, are you attracted to men?” He continued. “Yes!” You answered right back. “So you don’t need men for anything?” He lifted a brow. “I can’t seem to find your point here, Jungkook.” You argued. “I’m saying if you’re attracted to men only, and I don’t want to assume, sexually speaking, you maybe can get by with a toy, maybe a very realistic dildo or a vibrator, but I take that it’s not like the real thing, so you’re not fully satisfied, therefore... You kinda do need men. Even if it’s just to get off.” He finished with the calmest expression ever and you were left with your eyes bulged and a slightly parted mouth. You were speechless, not only because of how nonchalantly he said those things but because he had a point. Sure, you got yourself off pretty well here and there with toys, but a real, live human was irreplaceable to you. With your mouth opening and closing a few times, you blinked. “If we’re talking about sex and sex only, then maybe, yes, I do need a man, but 90% of the time they don’t do it right anyway, so I rather resort to my toys. They’re also pretty quiet.” You rested your mug on the center table, lifting your legs and folding them besides you. “You met the wrong kind of men.” He cockily says, and you notice then that he’s flirting. This was something you enjoyed. Flirting. You were pretty good at it too. “And I assume you’re the right kind?” You teased back, and the lazy smirk that spread on him was devastatingly attractive. “Would you like to find out?” He rests his mug right beside yours, sitting back again, and your eyes fell to the swell of his thighs. Surely they would feel delicious under your palms, or perhaps your heat, fuck, all of him would probably feel delicious, his large strong hands, his bulging muscles and you were pretty sure he wouldn’t disappoint in the downstairs department. “I would like to know how you’re feeling.” You change the subject, watching him purse his lips and nod in understanding before he answers. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about sleeping with him, in fact, you had since the moment you laid eyes on him. But he was hurt, maybe still a little confused, and you surely didn’t want to take advantage of that. “Feeling better, yeah. I don’t think I can walk back to my car, though.” He admits, eyes falling to the window to see the rain still resilient outside. “We have spare rooms, you can stay the night, and tomorrow we can find a way to call for a repair or something like that to get your car from wherever you left it.” He nodded, getting up and picking up the mugs before making his way to the kitchen where he left them both in the sink. You showed him the way to the guest bedrooms, making sure you left him in one that was close enough to your old bedroom in case he felt sick during the night, and you being a night owl, would make sure to check on him during the night. You gave him a fresh change of sheets and a towel in case he wanted to shower and said goodnight before moving to your room. It had been a while since you stepped foot in there, and it was all still exactly the same. Your dark purple walls with posters, the pictures of your friends from high school hanging on the vanity mirror, you smiled fondly at one of you and Jungkook, maybe you were ten, nine, you couldn’t remember, but his large bunny-like teeth peeked out, one single hole showcasing his loss of one tooth. You sat down on the bed with a huff, a picture from the vanity flying off with the wind it caused, and you reached down to the floor to pick it up. It was one of you and your grandmother. Her large smile, so bright and powerful as it always was, leaning down with white gloves as she planted a flower right in the front garden of the house. You were right there beside her, wide smile as well, just as happy, as thrilled as you both planted new flowers to adorn the house. The same was in the background, full of life and so many memories that you felt a light tug at your heart. Maybe Jungkook was right... Maybe selling a hose as memorable as this one was a heartless act. But you brushed that thought away, placing the picture on the vanity counter and getting ready for bed. You were hyper-aware of the man in the other room, one that had insinuated that he wanted to sleep with you only but a few minutes ago, but not because of that. You were hyper-aware of him in the other room as you finally felt a hard sob rip through your throat. Crying everything you hadn’t cried in the last three days. You tried muffling your cry, but it was too painful to do so. You would miss her and you regretted not visiting. You regretted how annoyed you seemed when she showed up to your apartment unannounced with her bags saying she “missed you and was spending the weekend” detouring whatever stupid plan you had. You regretted so much, but now it was too late to regret anything at all. She was gone. You were completely alone in this world. No parents, no family at all, not even a cousin, a boyfriend. Not even a real friend. You fell asleep with silent sobs that night, and unknown to you, a very wide awake and hazy Jungkook hearing every moment of it with a weird feeling in his chest and body. It wasn’t only because you were crying. But because he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything about his accident or anything before he knocked on your door. Pancakes. Or maybe waffles, perhaps eggs. Yes, eggs and bacon. That’s what you smelled. And coffee, fresh-brewed coffee. Your eyes gently fluttered open, the soft light seeping through the curtains in the room quickly reminding you where you were, and yet the smell of breakfast was all you could think of. You rubbed your eyes, slipping on your flip-flops before slowly making your way out of your room, you quickly passed the room Jungkook had slept in, looking in to see it was as if no one had slept there at all and as you made your way downstairs slowly, the smell intensified. You went around the kitchen wall only to be met by a shirtless Jungkook, the shirt you had given him hanging on his shoulders as he whistled to a song on your grandmother’s old radio and stirred some eggs on the frying pan. The low slide of your flip-flops against the hardwood floor had him turning his head towards you. “Good morning!” He beamed with a bright smile. Your eyes moved to the kitchen table, eggs, bacon, coffee, and... Pancakes? You were confused, very confused. “Someone’s not a morning person.” Jungkook chuckled as he turned off the oven and pushed more eggs onto a plate in the center of the kitchen table. “Come on, sit down, have some coffee so you can function like a normal human being.” You didn’t know what was more startling, the sight of pancakes when you clearly saw there was no food or the sight of a shirtless Jungkook cooking you breakfast as if you two had just slept together the night before. You didn’t say anything, still confused and drowsy with sleep as you sat down, eyes flicking to Jungkook as he put his shirt back on to sit right beside you and start pouring you a cup of coffee. “I’m...” You began, watching him pour himself some before reaching for the really well-done pancakes. “How did you...” “The pancakes?” He asked, and you nodded. “They’re vegan. I found some flour that wasn’t expired in the cabinet and some vanilla extract, made them with water and some oatmeal powder, oh and sugar!” He shrugged. “I actually work with vegan and vegetarian food. Not that I am either of those myself, but there is a huge place in the market for it. I make easily affordable meals for people who don’t have time to cook for themselves.” You rubbed your eyes slowly, reaching for the coffee mug and bringing it to your lips, taking a large sip before you sighed. “That’s pretty useful, I’ve lost some clients in the past because my menus don’t offer them Vegetarian or Vegan options.” Your raspy voice spoke out. “Menus?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Yeah... I have a catering business. Weddings, parties, companies, even movie productions.” You began to explain. “I started with culinary school, wanted to become a chef, I kind of did, but I didn’t want to work at a restaurant where you have these really straight forward menus, I wanted to do something different, even fun.” You reached for a single piece of bacon. “So, my menu also caters to children, we have gourmet corn dogs, sweet popcorn, some over the top hamburgers.” You smiled, bringing the food to your mouth and taking a bite of it. “Just like your grandma, huh?” He said and your eyes moved to him. You had never made that connection before. But now that he pointed it out, he was right. You remember you and your grandmother cooking several fun meals all day. Baking cakes, pies, making savory snacks for when your friends came over. And your birthday parties always had a little something different, and it was all your grandmother’s doing. “Yeah, I guess...” You chewed, reaching for the vegan pancake, not really trusting it would taste good with the ingredients he had mentioned. But to your surprise, as soon as you cut a piece and put it in your mouth, the loud moan you let out would have been lewd if not for Jungkook’s loud chuckle as he watched you eat his cooking. “What the fuck, this is delicious!” You almost screamed, digging in more. “And it’s healthy too.” He lifted his cup. “Fuck, fuck... So fucking good.” You continued the moans of gastronomical pleasure. “Not going to lie, it’s kind of hot watching you lose your shit over my cooking.” He chuckled, and you gave him a pointed look, rolling your eyes before going back to the pancake. “Jesus fuck, Jungkook, this is amazing, we should totally work together sometime, I have so many clients that would pay big fucking bucks for healthy, vegan meals like this.” You offered, already finishing the pancake. “Yeah? I could use the cash, business is good but it could be better.” You smiled at him, still chewing, and just as you were about to speak the radio beamed with what you recognized as a hurricane alert. “Seems like we have a hurricane heading towards the town in about one day or two, all main roads are closed for the time being, we advise everyone to stay in their homes, stock on food and water. Do not go outside under any circumstances, I repeat, do not go outside under any circumstances.“ You and Jungkook shared a concerned look, and he pursed his lips. “I should probably find a way to get to town...” And just as he said that a bright flash of lighting had you bulging your eyes and a loud rumble of thunder shook the house, heavy, aggressive rain pouring outside in a matter of seconds. Jungkook looked at you and you pursed your lips. “Or maybe not.” You said right before the lights flickered and you heard the refrigerator turn off. “Great.” You chuckled and Jungkook shook his head. “I’m really out of luck, I bet my car is already fucked by now.” He sighed, resting his head in his hands. “If you have insurance your car will be fine.” You said standing up to test the lights before confirming the power was off and heading for the kitchen drawers, looking for candles. “We don’t have any more food or water,” Jungkook interjected, watching you bring two packs of candles and leave them on the table. It was still pretty illuminated in the house, despite the dark clouds making it seem like the sun was already setting. “I, well, we do, actually, my grandmother has a bunker I guess, she has a lot of canned foods and stuff like that, also a shit load of water, we should be good.” You informed, walking back to the table, noticing that Jungkook’s hair was wet. “Did you take a shower?” You asked, and Jungkook furrowed his brows in confusion. “Your hair is wet.” You said as you sat down. His hand moves up to his hair, running his fingers through the damp locks. “Oh... I guess they just take a long time to dry.” He shrugged, and you gave him a look of confusion before finishing your breakfast. “You don’t mind me staying?” He asked after you both finished eating, you were at the sink, washing the dishes as he sat on the kitchen counter right beside you, watching. “Honestly, what’s a couple more days gonna do. Besides, I would probably shit my pants if I had to go through a hurricane in the dark by myself.” Jungkook lifted his brow at that. “So... Another thing you need a man for other than getting off?” He gave you a smug look. You rolled your eyes at him, spraying some water onto him. “No! Company doesn’t necessarily require a man, Jungkook.” You answered, finally finishing the dishes, placing them to dry. “And you seem to be obsessed with the idea of me getting off.” You dried your hands and looked at him, leaning on your hands on the counter. There it was. That lazy, charming smirk of his. One that honestly had your panties twisting. “You want me to lie?” He cocked his head. “You’re outrageous.” You chuckled, turning your back to him and taking a few steps before you were stopped by a cold hand on your upper arm. It wasn’t a tight grip, if anything, it was a gentle one. He was already on his feet, tugging you back to him, and the little huff you let out once your body fell flush against his had him smiling wider, your hands resting on his chest. “You know what’s outrageous?” His hands slipped down your arms gently to rest on your hips, it was almost as if he was hesitant to touch you, waiting for consent, as his silky voice spoke, his back rested against the counter, legs slightly parted for you to slot yourself in the middle. “The fact that I know I can make you cum so hard and good that your legs stop working and you’re here pretending you don’t know.” That had a blush spreading on your cheeks, a loud swallow almost inaudible because of the hard rain hitting the window just behind him. “How would I really know, though? You seem like a teller, not a shower.” You teased back, already feeling heat cripple down your body. You could feel his firm body against yours, even if you weren’t exactly pressed to him and his hands rested gently on your hips. You moved your gaze up. Even a little slouched down he towered over you, eyes glossy and full of intention, and that smirk. That freaking smirk. His pink tongue came out to flicker over his bottom lip, your gaze following it before moving back to his dark eyes. “May I?” His gaze moved to the hands on your hips and you blinked slowly up at him, nodding once. What was once a hesitant touch to your hips became a hard, deliciously painful grip. Thumbs digging into the dip of your hip bone and pulling your hips into him, your middle gently rubbing against his. Your lips parted as you gently let your head fall back, giving him an opening even you weren’t aware of in your clouded judgement. And soon, lips were on the expanse of your neck. Soft, damp lips, grazing your skin and sending ripples of goosebumps down your body, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. “The things I’ll do to you...” He whispered against your skin, parting his lips to gently nip at the curve of your neck and jawline. It was as if you were entranced, truly. His body, words, touch was like a magnet to you, unable to even think properly as he littered his way up with gentle kisses, sucking softly at your skin once you whimpered at a rather sensitive spot. “Jungkook...” You whimpered out and he rolled his hips into you at the sound of his name, clearly pleased with how it sounded coming from you. Your arms quickly moved to wrap around his neck as he made his way up, more and more, lips tracing your jawline all the way to your chin before he hovered right against your lips, eyes almost shut as he looked at the ultimate surrendering look on your face. Your eyes opened into slits, looking back at the intense gaze he was giving you, lips almost aching with the want to be kissed, you wanted to kiss him so bad, no... You needed to kiss him. It was almost as if you were desperate. “Do you want me to kiss you, sweetheart?” His breath fanned against your lips, warm and smelling of coffee. Just as you were about to answer, another bright flash of lightning blinded you for a second before the violent rumble of thunder shook the house. You squealed, it was so close and Jungkook, despite his manly frame also had bulging eyes as he looked around, watching the lamps shake slightly. “Shit, that was a close one.” He let out under his breath. You could feel something poking against the edge of your stomach and suddenly you didn’t feel in the mood to make out with him, but rather protect yourself. “You think we should go to the bunker?” You asked, looking back at him with wide eyes and a slight pout on your lips. He was so endeared. You looked just like you did when you were a child, scared of whatever it was, and he sighed, despite the arousal still very clear in his eyes. “Yeah, we can go to the bunker. Can you grab some blankets and pillows? I’ll grab your bag and the candles.” He informed and you nodded, quickly making your way up the stairs. The “bunker” was actually the basement, with concrete walls and with shelves filled with canned foods and gallons of water along with medicine. There were two sleeping bags, one that was meant for you and another that was meant for your grandmother, and as you laid them down, placing the pillows and blankets on them, Jungkook was strategically placing the candles around the room, using a lighter he found in a drawer to light them. When he was done, he went up the little stairs to close the door, the strong lock making a loud nose. He made his way back to the candlelit room, you were already seated, with crossed legs on one of the sleeping bags, eyes a little wide as you heard rumble after rumble of thunder. “It’s really pouring out there.” He said as he sat down beside you, trying to ease you a little. “I don’t remember going into this bunker since... I don’t even remember.” You admitted, taking in a deep breath. “It’s... Scary.” “What is, the bunker?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You pursed your lips. “No... I guess... It’s scary not knowing what’s going to happen. We can be here and think we’re safe, but the whole house can fall on us and then poof... We’re gone. That’s scary.” You swallowed at the thought. Jungkook nodded, understanding what you meant. “I think... Death isn’t meant to be scary. It’s the not knowing that is scary.” He said, and you looked at him, watching him look ahead as if rearranging his thoughts. “Some believe in heaven and hell, others believe in reincarnation, I think it’s all in an effort to give them some peace, fear death a little less.” He nodded, and you brought your knees to your chest. “What do you believe in?” You asked, resting your cheek on your knees, looking at him. He thought for a few seconds, nibbling on his lower lip. “I don’t know. I want to believe that when we die... We go to a place where all our loved ones are waiting for us, where we find peace and we can choose to either live in peace or go back and do it all over again.” He looked at you. “But I can’t really believe in that when I’m just as terrified of dying as I am of being alive.” His brows furrowed and so did yours. “Like... What if I die alone? What if I die forgotten somewhere, in the cold, all by myself? What if I die knowing that I accomplished so many financial things in life but not... Emotional? No one to love, no one to be loved by. That terrifies me.” “Not being loved?” You asked, and he shook his head. “Dying as alone as I lived.” And that hit you like a ton of bricks. You and Jungkook were so alike it was really frightening. You were also alone, having conquered so many things in life. With your own business, money, success. But at the end of a busy day, you went home and you were alone. Alone with yourself and your silence. And you didn’t notice until now how lonely you were. “At least here... If anything happens, I know I won’t die alone. I’ll die with my childhood best friend and honestly, someone I really want to get to know better.” He looked at you again with a smile and you never felt so comforted. Your grandmother didn’t die alone. Even if you had spent most of your years away from her, even if you had only come back to this town to hold her hand one last time before she took her final breath. You were there, and so were her friends. She wasn’t alone. And even if you didn’t know what happened after, you’d like to believe that she was with your father and mother, hugging each other again, your grandmother filling them in on how well you had grown up. Smiling fondly back at him you both were quiet for a while, still hearing the thunder outside, but now it was less scary to you. “I think we have some cards here somewhere.” You said standing up and rummaging through a drawer, Jungkook threw his head back with a grunt. “Ugh, thank god, I was already starting to think we were going to die of boredom down here.” He chuckled, and you scoffed. “Good to know my company bores you, Jungkook.” You found the pack of cards making your way back to the pile of blankets you had made. “Please, you’re far from boring. If anything you’re really fucking interesting. Really proud of who you grew up to be, even if you can be a heartless bitch that wants to sell her childhood home so it can become a strip club.” He quirked a brow with a teasing grin and you slapped his arm. “Oh, shut up. I’m not sure I’m going to sell the house anymore, I might have other plans.” You said without looking at him, taking the cards out. “Do you know how to play poker?” You asked flashing him a grin. He raised a brow. “Can we make it interesting?” And you squinted at him with his lazy smirk that made you tingle. “Is it something kinky?” You asked with a tilt of your head. “Definitely.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes before giving in. “Fine, whatever, you pervert.” If you had known Jungkook was this good at poker, you probably wouldn’t have agreed on making it strip poker, because now you were in your bra and panties, no socks on and he was only but socks and shirt down. You want to blame your loss on his exposed chest, your eyes unable to focus on anything other than his ripped abs, but in reality, Jungkook was just really good at poker and his annoying cocky smirk and those strong arms draped over his legs only made you more annoyed ― and turned on. “Royal flush. Lose the bra.” He set his cards down giving you a very pointed look. Your mouth fell agape because you really weren’t expecting this at all. For a second, you thought about ending the game, but the way his eyes roamed down your half-naked body really made heatwaves rush down your spine. Placing your cards down, you let your tongue flick over your lower lip, his eyes didn’t miss that as he watched your hands move to your back to unclasp your bra. There was a look of anticipation in his eyes, glossy lids focused on your chest as you let the straps fall down your shoulders, your eyes focused on him before you slowly peel the undergarment off, exposing your perked nipples. His jaw clenched at the sight of your exposed breasts, eyes moving all over to take them in, and there was a slow almost shaky exhale coming from him, making you pant slightly. The sexual tension in the air was as thick as the rumbling clouds in the sky. You were almost bare for him, and he loved that. Loved that he was getting the chance to see you, all for himself. You leaned back on your hands, your breasts arching forward, bouncing slightly and there was almost an animalistic growl bubbling in him. “Take off your panties.” He breathed out, commanded, asked, you really didn’t care. There was no game anymore, that you knew for sure, and one single hand moved down to tug at the side of your underwear gently, pushing it down before you pushed the other side, sliding it down your legs. You let the fabric rest along with your bra, your heat still covered by your thighs before you bent your knees up to your chest, looking at him with lust-filled eyes. You loved the way he was looking at you, with so much want and so much desire it almost clogged your lungs. And he waited patiently, his own chest slightly heaving up and down before you slowly parted your legs for him to see all of you. Fully bare and spread for him. “Fuck.” He cursed out, and you knew that if he didn’t swallow thickly, his mouth would have pooled with drool. You could feel his heavy gaze fixed on your heat and you knew he could see it glisten as the candles flickered. “Fuck, please, please can I touch you?” He breathed out, one hand already placed on the blankets in front of him, ready to crawl to you. The desperation in his voice almost made your hands falter. “Yes, yes, do anything you want with me.” You spoke out just as breathless. And before you even had a chance to breathe back in, he was on you. Slotted right between your legs and hungry, desperate mouth on yours, you whimpered into his mouth, tongue flicking out to find his. He tasted so divine, so heavenly and you let yourself lay back on the blankets as he kissed you like it was the last time. Passionate, tender even, but messy and wet. He grunted against your lips as his hips rolled into your slit, you could feel the outline of his hardened length against your bare heat and your eyes rolled back at the delicious rub. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in between his locks. They were still wet. But you were less focused on that, and rather focused on his hot breath against your lips, sweet taste on your tongue, and the way his body rolled into you so expertly. He pulled away only to latch them onto your neck, kissing and sucking harshly at your skin, probably leaving bruises in his path down your body. He didn’t relent when he met your breasts, sucking one perked nipple into his mouth with a deep vibrating groan that rippled down your body, sending shivers down your spine. You arched into his mouth, whimpering softly as little shocks of pleasure shot straight to your core. “Jungkook.” You whimpered out and his brows furrowed, hips rolling into you harder as he let your nipple go with a lewd pop. “Fuck, I love it when you say my name like that, sounds so perfect.” He whispered against your skin, moving his lips down your middle, kissing just below your navel and you know where he’s headed, already parting your legs further for him. “Good girl.” You barely catch the whispered praise, but as you do, you feel your cheeks blushing furiously, heart picking up in rate. A loud moan rips right out of you, fingers gripping at the blankets once you feel his mouth wrap around your nub. He sucks it into his mouth softly, tongue swirling around and under it, making you choke out whimpers and moans at the intense pleasure. If anything, he seemed like a fucking pro, letting your nub free only to flatten his tongue, dipping the tip into your aching entrance before lapping up your slit to suck your clit right back into his mouth with a deep groan in his chest. Your arousal was all over him, lips, chin, tongue. And you loved how messy it looked, how completely hungry he seemed to be buried in your cunt. The soft sucks to your clit became more frequent, tongue swirling it around inside his mouth and you let out a high pitched whimper, signaling he was at the perfect spot. Jungkook was a good listener, and he was adamant in making you cum, more than once. He sucked harder and harder, both hands moving to spread your legs wider, thumbs so close to the edges of your entrance as he spread it open, the ache becoming more unbearable as it stretched slightly. With just a few more sucks you let your head fall back and back arch off the blankets, legs shaking violently before a hard wave of pleasure washed down your body. Vision flashing white and extremities tingling, you couldn’t feel your legs. Your empty core clenched around nothing and he could feel it with the edge of his thumbs so close to your entrance. He sucked softly again, riding your orgasm before he pulled away completely, only peppering small kisses over your swollen clit, watching you flinch slightly in overstimulation. You finally relaxed, back meeting the blankets once again and droopy eyes searching for him as you felt him crawl up over your body. The lazy smirk accompanied by cum coated lips and chin was way more than you were prepared for and you whined at the sight, tilting your head up to capture his lips. He only chuckled, pulling away to tease you. “You taste like fucking heaven.” He whispered, still pulling away every time you tried to catch his lips. “Would you like to taste yourself, sweetheart?” You nodded with a pout and he leaned in, tongue breaching your lips as he kissed you slowly, sensually, letting your cum coat your tongue as well, and you whimpered at your taste, making him pull away with a groan. “Fuck, I want to taste you more, please?” He asked, brows furrowed and your hand moved down in between your bodies to cup his hard bulge. Palm rubbing at it back and forth. His eyes fluttered as he let his head fall at the delicious rub of your palm. “I want your cock.” You whispered, and he took in a deep breathe, exhaling shakily. “Please? Please, Jungkook, please?” You begged, breathy voice, a little hoarse from your loud moans, and who the fuck was he to deny you of anything at this point. He was completely under whatever spell you had on him. He pushed his sweats down along with the black brief boxers he had under and his cock sprung up to hit against his stomach. You were right. He surely didn’t disappoint in the downstairs department. If anything, he was impressive. Thick and long, large veins adorning his hard length, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He was massive. You even questioned if you could take him at all, and the slight doubt on your face had him chuckling. “We’ll go slow, I promise.” He said in reassurance before he positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed slowly, and you felt your entrance stretch around him just as slow, the first inches were the hardest part, and once you felt that “pop” from his tip it was smooth sailing from there, your core stretching around his thick girth with a slight burn, he grunted as he slowly bottomed out, stilling as he panted, resting his forehead on yours, being careful not to press his wound onto you. “Can I move, sweetheart?” He asked softly, clearly strained, his hands moving to find yours, interlocking his fingers with yours right beside your head. You nodded at him, feeling so full your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl.” He said a little louder this time, pulling out only to roll his hips into you with a breathless groan. The praise along with the thrust had your core clenching around him, making him hiss at the tight fit. “Fuck, so good.” He breathed out, starting a slow, steady grind of his hips in and out of you, cock twitching so deep inside, you could feel him in your cervix. “H-harder.” You whispered and Jungkook snapped his hips into you without warning, eliciting a loud, high-pitched moan from you. “Like that, baby?” He questioned, moving his lips to the shell of your ear. You whined and he let out an airy chuckle, biting down on his lower lip as he pulled back only to snap them forward harder this time. Your body bucked with each hard snap of his hips, his hands moving from yours to rest beside your head, hold himself up as the other moved to wrap gently around your neck, your entrance clenched harder at it. “Oh, what a surprise.” He breathlessly teased. “The heartless bitch likes to be fucked like a whore.” And you wish you were mad at it, but truly, you did. You liked it rough and dirty just as much as you liked it slow and passionate. “Good thing I’m a pro at it.” He gave you that cocky smirk before he started a relentless pace into you, hips snapping so hard your breasts bounced with each powerful thrust, feeling him hit deep into your core over and over. “Such a sweet girl...” He spoke as he fucked you, grip tightening around your throat. “Making mud pies, playing hide and seek and getting fucked by her childhood friend in the basement of her childhood home, full fucking circle.” He snapped them hard with a grunt, making you reach out to latch your nails to his shoulders. “That’s it, baby, feel my cock deep inside of you, feel it drag in and out of that sweet, tight cunt. Feel every ridge, every vein, make yourself cum all over it like you do with those pathetic toys.” He growled out. You already expected Jungkook to be a dirty talker, you just didn’t expect him to be this fucking good at it. “Just like that, yeah? Fuck, if it were for me you’d never use a fucking toy again, only my cock, I’d fill you up every fucking second of the day, creaming this tight pussy over and over as if it was made for me.” You clenched tight as his grip tightened, feeling your second high already creeping in on you. God, he was so good. “Fuck, scratch that, this little pussy was made for me, you’re all mine, all fucking mine.” He closed his eyes, getting lost in the sensations of your tight, hot walls hugging his length, deliciously rubbing against his cock as he fucked into you again and again. “Say it.” His strained out breathy voice blurted out, and you didn’t need him to explain to know. “I-I’m y-yours, Jungkook, all y-yours.” You were sure you had broken skin by now, your nail digging and scratching as you felt your high approach you at an unforgiving speed. “That’s a good fucking girl.” And there it was, the praise again. And that alone seemed to send your high ripping through your body aggressively. Choked out sobs and shaking body making you unable to think and even Jungkook was surprised when you came, holding you in place as you let it wash over you, blinding your vision and making the slide of his cock even more smooth. The choked out broken whimpers and moans were music to his ears as he felt you clench over and over around his length, his brows furrowing as he concentrated on the feeling while helping you ride your second high. He slowed his unforgiving pace back down to a slow grind of his cock, the hand around your throat moving to interlock your fingers again as the other one gently soothed you, clearing the wild locks away from your face, he shushed your quiet sobs as he leaned down to kiss the tears― even you didn’t know you let fall down ― away. It was so tender, so gentle, you weren’t used to that from someone that was only but a one time lover. But was Jungkook only but a lover? He was your childhood friend. And sure, it had been a long time since you had seen him, and to some people that would make you strangers, but you weren’t strangers, in fact, you knew each other very well. He knew that you chewed on your lower lip when you were nervous. You knew that his eyes went wide and dear-like when he was surprised. He knew that you hated storms and the rain. And you knew that he had always protected you since you were kids. His brows were furrowed as he rested his forehead against yours again, you could tell he was close, could tell he was only savoring the pleasure as his lips parted to let out a low, deep whimper of his own. His eyes opened to look straight at you, it was so personal. So intimate. And right when he was there at the edge, he leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, uncoordinated kiss as you felt his cock twitching inside of you, spilling his hot cum deep within. His breath was so harsh an aggressive coming from of his nose and he couldn’t kiss you for long as groan after groan left him and he came. Fuck, he was even hotter when he came. You were doomed. It took him a few minutes before he finally stopped. Breathing harshly before he rolled off of you, laying beside you. You both went quiet for a few minutes, only catching your breaths before he turned his head to you, a lazy smile spread on it. “Told you so.” He let out a cocky smirk. “You’re outrageous.” You scoffed at him and he reached out, pulling you flush against his side. You rested your head on his damp chest, both of you flushed and fucked out. There was a quiet moment where you both just looked at it each other, it was as if time stops, as if everything made sense right there, right at that moment. It felt like home. He felt like home. Just like this house. Peaceful. And if death was anything like this, you’d gladly die. “I know this is really weird... But I really feel like telling you I love you right now.” He admitted with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bopping. Your heart did something you weren’t aware it could do. “Maybe it’s the after-sex haze, but I really feel like saying it back.” You said too, cheeks blushing slightly at your admittance. “I love you.” He whispered out. And you were surprised by how it didn't feel weird, by how it didn’t sound foreign. It was as if you heard it a thousand times before, but also as if it were the first time and truly, it was. But it felt... Real. “I love you.” You said it back and his lips spread into a wide smile. Maybe he felt it too, felt how familiar it sounded, how... Fitting it was. And maybe it wasn’t love at all, maybe it was just the afterglow of sex and that was ok, you’d both deal with it later. Right now you just wanted to bask in this feeling, nothing outside really mattered. Not even the rumbling of the thunder still roaring in the sky. “God, I suddenly feel really fucking tired.” He huffed out, and you chuckled. “You can sleep if you want.” You said but Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his once damp skin suddenly turned ice cold against you and you gasped. “Jungkook?” You called, but he still had his brows furrowed, his lips suddenly changing shades. You sat up, looking down at his naked body, he was shaking, trembling so violently it felt like he was possessed. His skin had turned pale even under the yellow glow of the candles. And you watched the gauze on his head turn crimson red, taking over the whole thing. “Jungkook!” You called louder, but the boy only moaned as if in pain. Reaching out for the gauze, your fingers brush his hair. They were soaked, dripping onto the blankets as if he was right under pouring water. Your eyes bulged, so confused at what was happening. “Y-Y/N?” He called out your name and your trembling hands cupped his ice-cold face. “Jungkook? I’m here, I’m right here, tell me what’s happening!” You desperately asked. His eyes opened slightly, and you felt like you were breaking into a million pieces at the pure sadness in them. “Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone.” He whispered out, and you were even more confused at his statement. Desperately trying to understand but not wanting to stay still, turning your back to him, you hurridly got dressed, looking through the drawers desperatly for something to clean his wound, and just as you turned back to him there was no one there. Your eyes bulged, your heart racing. What was happening? What was going on? You looked at the door, it was still sealed shut, there was no way he could have gotten up and opened it in the state he was. There was no way you wouldn’t have heard him! “Jungkook?!” You called for him as you made your way up the stairs and out of the basement. You roamed the house, desperation laced in your voice, on your face in the tears that― unknown to you ― streamed down your face. You looked for his clothes that you put to dry in the laundry, there was nothing there. But the food was there, you ran to the mirror and his marks were there. Please... Find me. I don’t want to die alone. That was what he had said. And even if nothing made sense right now, even if reason and logic weren’t on your side, your brain worked at full capacity, head aching, throbbing, knees falling to the floor as your hands came in between your hair. You wanted to scream. What was happening, what was happening, what did he mean? I lost control of my car down on the secluded road somewhere... Your eyes bulged at the memory, maybe... Just maybe that’s where Jungkook was. Maybe he had gone back for his car, maybe... Just maybe you weren’t going insane. The storm roared outside, the hurricane now at its peak, but something inside you roared louder, no matter how crazy you felt. You didn’t even bother to put on your shoes, grabbing your car keys and going out in the absolute havoc of a storm, soaking wet and shivering cold you got in your car with a struggle as the wind was strong against you. Turning the engine on, it took a few turns and a few punches to your wheel for it to finally come to life. You were a good driver, but in these conditions, even the most skilled driver could die. You didn’t care, something deep inside of you screamed that you were running out of time. You drove in the pouring rain and wild aggressive wind unable to properly see as you sobbed uncontrollably trying to remember where the secluded road was. It was a shortcut people always took when they wanted to get from the farms back to town quicker instead of taking the highway. It was also up a mountain with a lot of trees. Bumpy roads and slippery, muddy tracks. You drove regardless, making your way up the mountain road, mud making your tires turn falsely here and there, but you relented, and you drove, cursing out loudly. “Where the fuck are you?!” You screamed before you saw on the horizon a black car, clumped down the hill a little, the front smashed straight into a tree, you drove until you were close enough, sprinting out of your car as you ran to his. “Jungkook!” You screamed as you reached the driver’s door. The windows were shattered, rain falling into the car and there he was, unconscious, the cut still very much there, unattended in the same clothes you had met him in. You tried opening the door, but it seemed jammed. And you screamed in frustration as you hit the car a few times before trying again, pulling as hard as you could, kicking the sides to try to make it budge. Your free hand moved to grip at the edge of the shattered window, broken glass digging into your flesh, but you were filled with adrenaline and dread, pure dread. Jungkook was dying. You gave all you had until you finally felt the door budge, swinging open and almost throwing you back. You stumbled in the hard rain, the wind blowing so hard against you, you felt like you could fly away as you reached into the car, undoing his seat belt before wrapping your arms around his middle. You were small compared to Jungkook. And even if now you were questioning if anything that had happened in the last day was real or just some sort of feverish dream, you knew he was heavy, you pulled him out of the car with a lot of effort, grunting as he flopped down on the muddy floor. You leaned over him, seeing his lips blue, his cut still very much bleeding. Your shaking hands reached for his pressure point, searching for a pulse and you concentrated, feeling it so faint against your fingers. He didn’t have much time. You dragged him to your car, slipping as you used all your force to get him there, but somehow you did, somehow you were able to open your back seat and push him inside. You didn’t even know you had it in you. And fuck did you drive. You drove fast, knowing it took at least ten to twenty minutes from the secluded road to the town hospital, and in this weather, it was harder to drive up the mountain, but you did, you drove fast and relentless and once you made it to the hospital it all happened too fast. The nurses and doctors rushing to pull Jungkook out of the car, lay him on the stretcher. Your bloody hand wiping your hair out of your face as you followed them in. But you couldn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear the questions, you couldn’t hear the shouts. All you could see was Jungkooks’ almost lifeless body, so pale and fragile. Fuck... You... You kissed him. You touched him, didn’t you? You... You said you loved him. Was it your imagination? How... How would you imagine this, how would you imagine where he was, that he was hurt? It didn’t make sense to you. “Miss! How long has he been unconscious?!” The nurse yelled, taking you out of your racing thoughts. “Since... Around seven pm yesterday.” You mumbled out, still walking with them, watching them put wires, tubes, oxygen on him. That’s all you could really think, that Jungkook was never really there, that he had been unconscious in his car since the moment he knocked on your door. “Are you his wife, family?” She asked, and you shook your head. “I’m... I’m his childhood friend.” You almost couldn’t speak. “I’m going to have someone take a look at your hand, you’re going to have to stay here.” And just like that, he was gone. Past the double doors. You waited. Even after someone had come and sutured your hand, you waited, soaked, cold. You waited, even after you saw Jungkook’s father storm in between the hospital doors. Even after he had spoken to you, thanked you for saving his son after all these years. You waited until the storm was gone, nothing but a light breeze and scattered leaves outside on the wet asphalt. You waited until he woke up and the nurse had told you he didn’t remember you. You waited until his father said that he didn’t feel comfortable having someone he hadn’t seen in sixteen years wait for him at the hospital. He didn’t remember. Of course, he didn’t remember. Jungkook was stuck unconscious in a car for 24 hours and you? You were visited by someone, something urging you to save his life. And you didn’t really spend any more time wondering if it was really him, perhaps his spirit, perhaps his consciousness. You didn’t even waste your time wondering why you. Wondering why put you through something so painful, no matter what it was. In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Jungkook was safe, alive. And whatever supernatural thing had happened that allowed you to save him... You were thankful. Two weeks had gone by since everything. The house extremely quiet as you packed your grandmother’s things slowly, not one drop of rain to keep you from doing anything at all. In the end, you had moved all of her things to the attic, deciding to maybe spend some time here, take a break from work. You didn’t allow yourself to think about Jungkook or try to explain what had happened. You had spent the first few nights crying yourself to sleep as nothing made sense, but the excruciating pain still haunted you. It hurt that he didn’t remember. Sighing as you looked at the rough drawing of the renovations you wanted to make to the house in front of you, you reached for your mug of coffee. The afternoon sun coming through the windows and making the whole place seem cozy. You were also baking some cookies, deciding to keep the house as you remembered it. Something always in the oven. And you had tried a new recipe, vegan. Testing out to see if they worked, if they would taste as good as... You brushed the thought away, focusing on the paper in front of you. It was three loud knocks that brought you out of your thought. You wondered if it were perhaps a neighbor, or maybe even the delivery boy coming to bring you the groceries you had called earlier for. But you gasped once you opened the door. “Jungkook.” You whispered out, surprise and dread written all over your face. He looked just a good as he did that day. The cut on his head now almost healed completely. “Uh, hey. Y/N, right?” He sounded shy, hesitant. One hand coming to rub the back of his neck. But the way he had said it only made your heart break, he really didn’t remember. “I was heading back to town, but... My dad told me that you were the one that saved my life so... I wanted to stop by to thank you, I guess. This is really awkward for me.” He nervously said. “Y-you’re Y/N, right?” “You seriously don’t recognize me, Jungkook?” You swallowed the lump in your throat, repeating the same words he had said to you that day. “I’m sorry, it’s... It’s been a really long time. You look really different.” He pursed his lips. “Y-yeah, that’s me... And... There r-really is no need to thank me. I’m glad you’re s-safe and ok.” You swallowed harder, nodding at him. Jungkook swallowed before he took in a deep breath, brows furrowing right after as his nostrils flared. “Are you baking cookies?” He smiled, hands coming into his pockets. He was more relaxed now it seemed. You pursed your lips, a soft smile spreading on them. “Would you like to come in and try them? They’re vegan.” The end. N/a: Now that you read it, yes, it’s based of Charlie St. Cloud. I freaking LOVE that movie. I hope you enjoyed this fic! <3

#jungkook #jk #jeon jungkook #fic #imagine #reader #oc #y/n #themfchase #bts #bangtan #mature #smut #ghostau #supernaturalau #kssmutclub #btssmutcentral #btsmutcentral #btsnetwork #smutcentralnet

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sodalitefully · 3 years

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It’s hazardous to breathe... [GNR Mad Max AU, pt. 2]

This is the second and final half of @smokeandmirrorz’s and my GNR AU inspired by the movie Mad Max: Fury Road! Thank you for reading, enjoy 😊

*Contains mpreg, character death, and plenty of unpleasant things from the Mad Max universe, including implied/referenced sexual violence, some regular violence/gore, and Immortan Joe.*

[part 1]

----

The sun-baked sand stung the soles of Slash's bare feet as he curled his toes and bit his lip and tried not to let the pain show on his face.

After the sandstorm and all the chaos that came before it, Izzy had decided that there was enough space between them and the War Party to take a much-needed break. And as much as Slash appreciated a drink of water and a chance to stretch his legs, he was more than ready for them to pack it up and keep moving.

With every gust of wind, he thought he could hear drums pounding and engines roaring, and with every step, he scalded his sensitive soles. But he didn’t like the idea of voicing his discomfort to the others, so instead he tiptoed back into the shade of the War Rig and sat on the side of the fuel pod, carefully perching his feet so that they wouldn’t touch the ground.

It had been years since Slash last found himself surrounded by people that he mostly-almost-kinda-sorta trusted, and he thought it might be a few more years before he relearned to act like it.

Steven was happily banging sand off the sides of the War Rig with a spare pipe. Duff was fiddling with the hose, looking at it in fascination like it was the Fountain of Life itself. Axl was taking inventory of the weapons, which spoke volumes about how much Izzy trusted him, and Izzy himself...

"Are you just planning on sitting there, or are you going to help, Princess?"

"Well I –" Slash wasn’t sure if he’d rather get up and tough it out, or explain the problem to Izzy, but Steven interrupted him before he could decide:

"How can you talk to him like that, Imperator?!" Offense was plain on his face, his sand-clearing weapon hovering near his head mid-strike.

Oh no.

"I'll talk to him however I want," Stradlin retorted, rather unhelpfully in Slash’s opinion.

"He's a wife! He was chosen by the Immortan himself to be one of his prized breeders! He's the most shiny, chrome –"

"Steven, stop, put that down..." Slash's weak attempt to defuse the conversation went unnoticed.

“You can give up the zealot act, the Immortan’s not here to give you a pat on the head for it! Slash isn’t his wife anymore and he’s never going to be again, so you better get used to it.”

The bomb went off. Axl drifted closer as Steven started shouting at Izzy, who tensed up, ready for a fight.

"You – You 'traitored him? You're stealing his wife for yourself, is that it? How could you, you fucking – "

"I knew you should have killed him to begin with. He's a fanatic, there's no saving him – "

"Slash deserves better than a weak, 'traitoring coward and his feral bloodbag! You're mad if you think you can get away with this, when the Immortan catches you, he'll – "

"Steven!"

Finally, Slash got his attention.

"Just... Come here. Stradlin, Axl, fuck off for a minute. See if you can pry Duff away from the hose or something, I don't care, just let me talk to Steven.

"Look, Stevie, just listen to me, alright? I asked Izzy to get me away from Joe because he was cruel and he was a liar, and we all deserve a better life than we were living there. None of us were happy at the Citadel, we just stayed because we believed him when he told us we had no choice. I'm not his wife anymore and I never was any different than anyone else, that was a lie too." He got up from his perch on the Rig, and tried not to flinch when his feet touched the burning sand. "Do you believe me?"

Steven didn't respond, couldn't even meet his eyes.

Slash didn't expect it would be easy for Steven to reconcile a lifetime of indoctrination with the truth that he suspected the War Boy knew, deep down, but the silent treatment still stung.

He sighed, and looked over to where the others were hunched over the War Rig's engine. Slash was practically useless when it came to mechanics, but surely there was something he could do to help.

He started to head over, but stopped in his tracks when something landed in the sand beside him: Steven's pair of heavy leather boots, a godsend to Slash's aching feet. He turned around to thank Steven, but his friend had already picked up his pipe and ducked around to the other side of the Rig.

"Why didn't you stay with me?" Axl asked, his hushed voice drifting on the bone-dry desert wind. "We could have survived together, had each other's backs. Why did you leave?"

It was past time for Izzy to go to sleep and let Axl take over keeping watch, but instead they were sitting side by side in the still-warm sand, staring at the lights in the sky in companionable silence. Just like old times.

"Resources. Better odds. The Citadel had water and I thought that if I played along with their little society for a while, I would come out ahead in the end."

"That's what you told me then, too... Your choice didn't exactly pay off for you, did it?"

Izzy clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to snap at Axl's bluntness.

"... I thought it would be nice, that it would be the next best thing to what it was like before. I thought the Citadel would be civilized. I was wrong."

"What happened, Izzy?" Axl turned to look at him when he didn't get a response. Izzy could feel him eyeing the scars on his face, and wished he hadn't left his bandana in the Rig. "Why the fuck won't you tell me anything?"

"Why won't you stop asking?"

"I don't know, maybe because I care about you? I care about whatever happened to you while we were apart! I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, though, you haven't asked me what I've done in the past two thousand days – not even once!"

Izzy kept his eyes pinned on the dark horizon.

"For fuck's sake, you're going to have to tell me eventually." Silence. "Fine." Axl got up and brushed the sand off his clothes. "Why don't you just get some sleep, Izzy."

Izzy didn't move, but he could hear Axl walking around to the other side of the Rig, and climbing up into the turret. Stubbornly, he waited a few minutes before rising to his feet, climbing into the cab, and sitting down as if he was about to drive, with his eyes on the windshield and his hands on the wheel.

"Why won't you tell him?"

Izzy jumped at the whispered voice. He turned to see Slash, wide awake and staring at him, his eyes glittering black behind his hair.

"How long have you been awake?"

"I remember the first time I saw your scars," Slash told him, ignoring Izzy's attempts to signal that he absolutely did not want to talk about it.

Izzy remembered too, and it was far from one of his fondest memories. The Organic had just released him the day after the accident, and Izzy was still in a haze of pain when Immortan Joe summoned him to one of his chambers at the top of the tower.

Apparently, Joe just couldn't wait another minute to explain to Izzy in great detail what a disappointment he was. He sat on a cushioned throne with his wives gracefully positioned at his feet, and recited a speech that Izzy had heard a dozen times before – though usually not directed at him. Blah, blah, "mediocre," blah, blah, "not worthy to call himself a follower of the V8..."

The performance culminated when Joe informed Izzy that he would no longer hold the honorable position of his wives' personal guard. The Immortan could no longer trust someone so pathetic and disgraceful with their safety.

Izzy grinned at the irony. The scar on his face flexed, and Slash flinched. Immortan Joe laughed and took Slash's face into his hand so that he couldn't look away.

"Hideous, isn't it? Unlike you, my Desire, perfect in every way..." Slash had to stretch as Joe lifted his jaw higher, putting his body on display. "He may be a full life, but he's damaged, just like all the others. Even if he is chosen for the halls of Valhalla, he will never be as flawless as you. Do not be afraid, my Desire, for the Imperator is unworthy of your fear."

"I'm not afraid."

"Of course not, you're under my protection, after all..." The Immortan kept talking but all Izzy could remember was the way that Slash stared at him dead in the eye, his gaze darkened with an emotion that Izzy couldn't quite pinpoint.

At this point, Slash had only been at the Citadel for a hundred, maybe two hundred days, and even though Izzy was around the wives almost every day, he still felt like he didn't really know the newest addition to Joe's treasure vault. Slash was quiet and withdrawn, even from the other wives. He didn't talk about his life before Joe imprisoned him, but he must have been one of the more fortunate survivors, because he wasn't dazzled by the wive's luxurious lifestyle for even a second. Instead, he focused all his energy on fighting Joe with tooth and nail.

In the Immortan's eyes, Slash's wildness only increased his appeal, and fueled Joe's desire to tame his prize – turning tempestuous Slash into the the object of his Desire. Izzy could tell that Slash was smart, he quickly learned how to choose his battles without fully giving in. But what he didn't realize was that Slash's observant gaze was so often turned towards him, silently evaluating a potential enemy or ally.

In the present, Slash was giving him the exact same stare. Wide-eyed and piercing, as intense as the sun but as dark as night.

"I was jealous," he told Izzy with complete conviction, as if that was the only sensible reaction to fresh, disfiguring burn scars. "I wanted your scars, so that Joe would only look at me the way he looked at you then. You're lucky, you know?"

By the next morning, the past was forgotten – or at least, Izzy, Axl, and Slash collectively decided not to bring it up again. There were more pressing matters, plans to be drawn and decisions to be made. Just about nothing in the past 24 hours had gone the way Izzy imagined it would: First they took on a stowaway War Boy, then the deal with the Buzzards fell through, and now they found themselves aimless in the middle of the Wasteland with only another day's worth of guzzoline.

Ahead of them – barren desert, uncharted wastes, and a seemingly infinite expanse of lifeless salt flats. And behind them – as Axl helpfully pointed out – fresh water, green plants, and a veritable fortress.

And a War Party, did he forget about the War Party? God, maybe Axl really was mad, suggesting that they go back the way they came and face Immortan Joe and his lackeys head on. Or maybe, Izzy wondered, they were all mad for agreeing to go along with his plan.

As they prepared the War Rig for a very hard day's ride, Slash approached Izzy in private.

"Look... Stradlin. I know this wasn't what you planned. I'm sorry that you and Axl didn't get to make a clean getaway and put this hell behind you, I really am. But... Thank you."

"Thank me if we survive tomorrow," Izzy replied. Maybe he was trying to sound gruff and indifferent, but he and Slash both knew the Citadel’s ghosts far too well to believe it.

The Gigahorse was gaining on the War Rig fast, its monstrous tires bumping against the rear of the truck like a dog trying to mount a bitch, but neither Slash nor Duff payed the beast any attention.

Slash couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dark red stain on Duff's bandaged chest. It was growing – not like a seed, but like a wildfire, fast and merciless and deadly. He didn't know that it was still possible to feel like the world was ending, but now he thought that the emptiness in his chest, the cold heartbreak and furious hopelessness – this must be how people before felt when the world died.

Duff's fingertips touched Slash's chin and gently tilted his head up. Slash tore his eyes away from the bleeding wound to meet Duff's gaze.

"Slash, it's okay. It's all going to be fine." He took a labored breath. "Just... Remember me, alright?"

He was smiling, like he really, truly believed that everything would work out, even as he dropped his hands from Slash's face to pick up their last exploding lance and a half-gallon of guzzoline.

"No, Duff, please don't – " Don't go, don't leave me... The words died on Slash's tongue. It was hard to beg for mercy when he had long since forgone the belief that the Wasteland was capable of giving any.

Duff though, he believed. Maybe that was Slash's fault, or maybe it was something ingrained in Duff's soul from birth, almost a half-lifetime ago, but he believed he had a purpose, that he could put all the misery at the Citadel to an end, that he could help Slash to start his new life, that he could put an end to his own body's slow decay.

Duff took his last look at Slash's dust-streaked, grief-struck face – and then jumped.

At that moment, Slash wouldn't have noticed if the sun fell out of the sky. He didn't move or even breathe as the Gigahorse blossomed into a mass of blazing orange petals that forced apart its metal hull and consumed Duff and Immortan Joe alike.

Slash stared as the wreckage shrank away in the wake of the War Rig. Only a rising column of heavy black smoke was still visible when Axl reached a hand to his shoulder and gently guided him back to the cab.

They had to stop the Rig to collect Joe's body, knowing that they couldn't claim to have killed the Immortan, the undying, a god among men without proof. Steven jumped off the Rig before it fully stopped and took off running to see the corpse of a man he once worshipped with his own eyes. Slash moved to follow, but Axl blocked him and gave Izzy a pointed look.

For once, Izzy conceded without a fight. He wrapped an arm around Slash's shoulder and guided him back to his seat.

"Slash, you need to rest. Steven and Axl will take care of it."

Satisfied that Izzy would look after Slash, who was obviously in shock, Axl turned to follow after Steven, gravel and charred bits of metal crunching beneath his feet.

Steven stared into the gruesome wreckage, quieter than Axl had ever seen him and looking like he couldn't decide whether he'd rather run away from the pale corpse, or beat it with a lug wrench. Axl couldn't blame him, just the knowledge that the man had hurt Izzy for years was enough to make him want to spit down his ruptured esophagus. In the end though, exhaustion won over and they hauled the mangled body back to the War Rig without any additional desecration.

The rest of the wreck was... not salvageable. The Gigahorse might have been Joe's pride and glory when he was alive, but now it was no more than a heap of charred steel, a grim warning to all those who pass.

And as for Duff... There would be no gravedigging in the hard-packed clay, but Axl didn't think Duff would want to be buried in the toxic soil anyway. A mound of rocks would suffice instead, a tribute that Axl hoped would last for the rest of the lifetime Duff deserved.

When they finally climbed back into the cab of the Rig, Axl twisted around and reached into the backseat to press a dirty lock and chain into Slash's hands.

"Izzy... you have a responsibility for these people."

"Responsibility? I don't owe them shit. I was as much a prisoner at the Citadel as any of them, I'm not going back and if they have any sense they won't either."

"The water at the Citadel is too important to abandon. You have to make sure that no one else tries to do what Immortan Joe did, to hoard the water and use it to own people instead of helping them."

"Didn't realize that spending two thousand days on your own would make you care so much about the common good."

Axl turned away with a grimace. "You don't know what I've been doing since you left." He tried not to let it sound like an accusation, but Izzy got the message anyway.

“The kids are going to need you,” he added, still looking at the horizon instead of Izzy. “I mean, Slash is pregnant for fuck’s sake. You’re not just going to drop him off to deal with all the ghosts in that hellhole alone, are you? Especially after...” He glanced at the figure curled under his old leather jacket in the rearview mirror, making sure that Slash was still sleeping like the dead in the backseat.

"You're right. Again." Izzy sighed. "Fine. I'll stay at the Citadel, for a little while."

"Good." Axl rested a reassuring hand on Izzy's arm. "I'll go with you, alright? I'll help you do what you need to do, and then we can leave and never look back."

Slash stood on the carved outcrop jutting out from the tallest tower in the Citadel. His skin was tanned, his hair was wild, and a steel chain with a broken lock was twisted into the stained cloth at his waist. Above his head, the skull edifice was scarred by a jagged gash, no longer a monument to the Immortan's false glory. Below his feet, fresh, cold water churned impatiently in the irrigation channels, desperate to be released.

Steven stood behind him, a bit battered, but the encouraging grin on his face was no worse for wear. On his other side, Izzy surveyed the scene below, and a few steps deeper in the shadows Axl lurked impatiently, trying not to let on his anticipation.

The crowd of formerly-Wretched roared when Slash stepped forward and rested his hands on the levers, their shouts echoing between the towers. It felt like the largest crowd of people that Slash had seen in his life, and every one of them was watching him. For a moment, he wondered if Duff would be proud – but Slash didn't feel proud, he felt like his knees might buckle.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Fuck victory speeches, he just wanted everyone to get the water they deserved. He thrust the levers forward, and listened to the water as it burst from the pipes and rained down to the ground, a thunderous cascade almost as loud as the overwhelming relief ringing in his ears.

----

#sodafics #gnr fanfic #gnr #guns n roses #guns and roses #slash #saul hudson #steven adler #izzy stradlin #duff mckagan #axl rose #mad max #mad max au

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miss-eucatastrophe · 4 years

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Main Pairing: Levi x Erwin x Mike x Thick!Reader/PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When you purchased your first home you’d anticipated it being a turning point in your life. You just didn’t anticipate that turn to give you whiplash.

A new home throws you into a new lifestyle you would have never thought you’d find yourself in-- with three men you’d never expected to be with.

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Main Tags: Polyamory/Polyamorous relationship, BDSM, Attack on Titain Modern AU, Slow Burn, Porn with Plot, Thick!reader, PlusSize!Reader, Chubby!Reader

A/N: I was gonna wait, but I guess I have no self control.

Chapter 2

A groan left your lips. You were so sore. Who knew that gardening could make someone so sore? Your legs and forearms ached from digging, weeding, and kneeling in the dirt. But the payoff had been near instantaneous. Your little front yard garden was so cute. Time would tell if it would thrive. For now, it was just what you wanted. It was welcoming, and warm; evidence that a new person lived in the house.

“Just gotta keep my flower children from dying.” You mumbled out loud against your pillow. It took great effort to turn your head and face the light shining through your blinds. It was early again. It was shocking you hadn’t been sleeping in late given how busy you were. It was safe to assume it was the excited jitters that came with being a new homeowner. Each day brought a new project. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, willing yourself to settle your thoughts before they started to list all the things you wanted to do to your house. For now, you settled on nurturing your flower children.

Good ‘ol Google had informed you that you should water your plants every day when you first put them in the ground to get them used to their new home. After that you could settle on a watering routine.

You pushed one foot out of bed, testing the air with your toes like you would a pool, and then groaned, pulling your foot back under the warm safety of the blanket. For a moment you contemplated going back to sleep, but vanquished the idea when the morning sun assaulted your eyes again.

With a determined huff, you threw the covers from your body, taking the plunge into the day. It took you a moment of stretching to drag yourself over to your dresser and throw some clothes on the bed. Something comfortable. You weren’t planning to go out anywhere today, just outside for as long as it took to water your front yard, then you would likely retreat to the comfort of your home. You had a few more boxes to unpack anyway.

After you slipped your clothes on, you made your way down the stairs to your kitchen, petite—but still bigger than your previous. It was the perfect size for a single occupant. In spite of not being hungry in the morning, you forced yourself to make breakfast, hoping the smell of scrambled eggs would coax you into eating by the time it was done. You often skipped out on meals, which was a problem. Perhaps it was one of the reasons for your thickness. Skipping meals could be just as bad as overeating, forcing your body to unhealthily accommodate for the bad habits. It could also be a trigger for overeating later in the day. One of your goals of a new home was to adopt a routine, which included eating regularly.

You spooned your meal onto your plate, adding some toast to it as you made your way to the window of the living room that overlooked your front yard. You yanked open the blinds, eyeing your garden as you lifted toast to your mouth and took a bite. Thankfully, the new plants hadn’t spontaneously combusted in the night. Something you assumed happened if you didn’t have a green thumb.

Noticing movement from the corner of your eye, you turned your head, seeing your neighbor getting into a clean, and rather new looking, truck in an army green color. Mike must have been going to work. You smiled, resisting the urge to wave. He probably wouldn’t have seen you anyway. Moving back to the kitchen table, you sat down to eat your breakfast before placing your dishes in the sink, opting to scrub them later. For now, you’d let them soak. Did they need to soak? No. But letting them soak gave you an excuse to avoid doing them for a few hours until they stared you down later.

Slipping on your shoes, you walked outside and unwrapped the hose from its coil, turning on the spray and providing your plants with much needed sustenance. You started with your potted plants, being reserved with the amount of water you gave your succulents before making your way down the stretch of dirt to the north of your lawn that your new shrubs and flowers called home. You watered your shrubs generously, pausing as you reach your pansies. You glared down at them, some of the flowers had actually had the audacity to wilt slightly. Giving a huff, you changed the function of your hose nozzle, making the flow far gentler as you crouched to examine them more closely.

“If you could not do that, that would be great.” You mumbled at the ungrateful cluster of flowers, eyeing a particularly sad looking petal.

“Flowers being disobedient?” You flinched at the smooth voice and stood right up, turning around quickly. If you hose had been on a higher function you would have sprayed the source. Opting not to take any chances, you quickly moved to stop the flow of water with the switch on the attachment.

You weren’t adequately prepared for what greeted you when you leveled your gaze on the source of the voice. Though after yesterday, maybe you really shouldn’t have been all that surprised. This man was nearly as tall, though not as brawny as your new acquaintance Mike. He had golden hair the color of wheat, and eyes that put oceans to shame under a pair of thick brows. You swallowed, taking note of his jawline and the expanse of his fit torso which was snuggly clad in a white button down. You didn’t realize you could hold contempt for a shirt—but with the sleeves rolled up a pair of strong forearms, it was clear the shirt was hiding impressive goods.

Damn every man in this neighborhood must have been a stud. You weren’t particularly religious, but you felt the urge to praise god for the blessing.

Though he’d probably just strike your down for the unholy thoughts going through your head.

The clearing of a throat brought your eyes back up to the blond man’s face where a smile sat, not the smirk you’d expected from your obvious ogling. “I’m Erwin Smith. I’m your neighbor.”

“Ah, sorry!” you said quickly, setting the hose down by your tennis shoe clad feet. You wiped your palm as discreetly as you could over your thigh to clear it of moisture from the hose and extended it to him. “Nice to meet you, I’m [y/n].” This hand was soft, but all consuming as Mike’s had been.

Mike.

You suddenly remembered, stopping your handshake abruptly to point to what you assumed was the man’s house. “You’re Mike’s boyfriend?” You probably shouldn’t have blurted that; in case you were wrong. After all, Della had made assumptions about you and Sasha the day you’d moved in. But the stranger, Erwin, only tilted his head and chuckled. “Did he mention me? All good things I hope.” His tone was deceptively casual.

“Uh, no,” you mumbled in embarrassment, clearing your own throat this time as a blush rose to your cheeks. “Della told me there was a couple next door.”

Erwin hummed, a deep and satisfying sound, and nodded his head, though in the next breath he’d seamlessly dodged the question. “Della is such a kind woman. Did she bake for you?”

You smiled brightly, remembering the cookies, and not noticing his lack of confirmation. You’d already drawn your conclusions. “Yeah, the cookies were amazing. I’ve got a theory that she’s a witch.” Oops, word vomit. You were worried that male wouldn’t understand you were joking, but he laughed—to your relief.

“When we moved in, she made a cake.” He leaned in closer to you, his voice just above a whisper, “She might be looking to fatten us up and eat us, so be on guard.”

This pulled a giggle from you, and oh what a pleasant sound to Erwin’s ears, “If Hansel and Gretel could handle it, I think we’ll be okay.” The scent of Erwin’s cologne filled your nose, musk and mahogany flooding your senses and the hint of something else too. Ink maybe.

“I sure hope so,” Erwin leaned back, out of your space, “I would hate to lose our new neighbor so soon.”

Biting your lower lip, you took in air that wasn’t saturated with the blonde’s heady scent.

“Yeah, who would care for my flower children if I died so soon?” You teased, gesturing behind you to the new plants which for the most part looked healthy in spite of the stubborn pansies which seemed hell bent on making your life a little more difficult. The last thing you needed to worry about where flowers. Though your anxiety was probably delighted to have yet another thing to obsess over.

You compared your anxiety to a super villain—someone lingering in the shadows and waiting for the smallest display of weakness through your progress—poised to strike.

Erwin’s blue eyes slid over the greenery before looking up at you. “We’d adopt them for you. No need to worry.” You looked over to Erwin’s home where the lovely magnolia tree grew. Their garden didn’t have as many plants with flowers, but what plants were there were clearly well taken care of. It was mostly green, though the magnolia tree added the perfect little pop of color to an otherwise verdant front yard. “At least I know they’d be going to a good home.”

The male chuckled, a sound that hummed from deep in that fit chest. “Can’t take all the credit. Mike takes care of the yard occasionally, but we leave most of it to the gardener.”

Of course, they would have a gardener. Their house was large and immaculate, and in addition to Mike’s well-maintained truck, it was hard to miss the Mercedes currently parked in the driveway. Clearly Mike and Erwin had well-paying jobs. “A plant nanny.” You deadpanned, earning another chuckle from Erwin who’s smile turned fond.

“We’d love to have you over for dinner. We’d like to properly welcome you to the neighborhood.”

You were taken aback for a moment, anxiety flooding your stomach on instinct. The thoughts were instantaneous. ‘What if I make a fool of myself?’, ‘What if I spill a drink?’, ‘What if I eat too much in front of them?’, ‘What if I say something wrong?’, ‘What if—’

A deep breath through your nose.

A subtle exhale from your mouth.

The thoughts were quieted.

Another deep breath through your nose.

Another subtle exhale from your mouth.

Your heart rate significantly lowered.

“I’d like that very much.” You answered before your thoughts could creep in again and dispel your nerve.

You weren’t going to let your anxiety keep you from experiences, especially making friends with your neighbors. You knew if you stopped to think on it deeply you would psych yourself out with overthinking the kind offer and ultimately decline. Best not to let your anxiety or self-consciousness rule your decisions. Therapy had taught you that.

Erwin looked pleased with your answer, his smile touching his blue eyes.

“Wonderful,” he purred, reaching into the pocket of his black slacks to hand you his phone, “Put your number in, if you wouldn’t mind,” he added the last bit to make it less of a command and more of a suggestion, “I’ll text you a date.” You smiled and tapped your name and number into the contacts of his phone, adding a flower emoji just as a playful wink to your conversation before handing the cellphone back to his waiting hand. “Sounds good.”

The male’s smile didn’t fade as he slipped the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll text you later.” He promised, making you return his smile. Though that should have triggered a bit more nervousness, anticipating a text, instead it just put little butterflies in your stomach. Yeah, he was gay—and taken, you reminded yourself again—but you could have attractive friends that were nice to look at. You were allowed to get excited over a little dinner date, no matter how platonic.

As Erwin moved in the direction of his Mercedes, he looked over his shoulder at you. “Don’t be too hard on your flowers,” he fished out his key fob, clicking the button to unlock his car, “It can be hard adapting to a new home.”

Smiling, you leaned down and picked up the hose, clicking the water back on and misting it gently over the pansies once again for good measure, hoping to perk up the wilting petals. “It helps to have someone to pamper you though.” You mumbled absentmindedly, earning a little glance from Erwin before the blond got into his car and sped off down the road.

You thought you had made yourself perfectly clear to yourself that the backyard was not a priority. But after unpacking a few more boxes of miscellaneous objects late into the afternoon, it just seemed to call to you.

You stood at your sink in your kitchen, looking out into the yard from the window as you nibbled on a bite of your lazily made sandwich. Your small kitchen table had already been set up so it’s not like you had to stand to eat any of your meals, but it seemed even when eating you had to pace. You blamed the new environment. It would take time to get comfortable, just like Erwin had said about your flowers. Even though you were excited and loved your new home, it was taking your time to adjust.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked over the yard, as though you were trying to imagine it looking differently than it currently did. You had a rather vivid imagination, you read quite a bit after all, but when it came to mental landscaping you were coming up short. The only reason you were able to spruce up your front yard without much deep consideration was because there was a plot of dirt already prime for flowers. It just lacked anything in it. Picking some things to fill the void hadn’t required a great deal of mental fortitude. The backyard was different.

It wasn’t exactly a mess, but it wasn’t a marvel either. It was a blank canvas of untapped potential—and weeds. A slightly overgrown lawn, lack of any interesting plant life, and boarder of dirt that was begging for flowers much as the front yard had. But you weren’t ready for the amount of plant life the backyard could hold. Being a new plant mother, you needed time to hone your skills. The front yard was plenty for now.

Even so, you couldn’t keep yourself from glaring at the backyard. Maybe it was because it glared back at you from every window. You wanted to look outside and see something pleasing to the eye. Why did hyper fixation always go hand-in-hand with anxiety? You tapped your foot against the floor and chewed your food, willing the nervous energy to dispel.

Fuck it.

You could pluck the weeds.

That might help until you could really bring yourself to get into the project that it would someday be. Besides, you should really keep up on the yard even before fixing it so that it wasn’t more of a hassle in the long run. Weeding it would be a good start, and it might make looking through your windows a bit less bothersome.

You placed your crumb covered plate into the sink and made your way through the sliding glass door to the backyard, taking a little detour to drag the green’s can from the side yard so you would have somewhere to put the weeds after you ripped their stubborn carcasses from the ground.

The poor bastards had no idea what was coming.

Taking a look around you, you once again crinkled your nose in contemplation. At least the lawn was mostly green. It didn’t look as though the previous owner had used the yard for storage or trash. It really didn’t look like the previous owner had used it for much of anything. They clearly couldn’t have been bothered to do much more than turn on the sprinklers, just like the front yard. You narrowed your eyes and scanned the environment, once again trying to channel your creative side. All you could think about were plants for the most part. You weren’t even all that plant crazy until recently. It was just the first thing that came to mind when you thought of the outdoors. You huffed through your nose. Maybe a deck at some point? That would cost money. You sure as hell were not going to build one yourself. IKEA furniture was the extent of your carpentry skills. At least the fence looked pretty good, spare for a hole like crack in one of the planks on the left side of the wall. That should be easy enough to fix. Surely it wouldn’t require the establishment of a whole new fence so at least you’d save some money there.

You gave up your attempt at visualization to pull your gardening gloves onto your hands. You’d take to some online forums for backyard ideas when the time was right. You had to remind yourself that right now you were just focusing on battling the weeds.

You tried to go at it methodically, you really did. You were going to start at one end of the yard and make your way to the other. But each time you bent down to pluck one weed you’d see a huge one from the corner of your eye at the other end of the yard that would distract you. You’d pluck that one, then there would be another at the side of the yard you’d just came from so you’d have to go back again. Pretty soon you were just hopping from whatever weed assaulted your eyes to the next, which mainly consisted of the big ones that had no right existing in the first place.

You were going to kick yourself later when you had to revert back to your original method of going from one end of the yard to the other when it came time to sift through the smaller weeds—but for now the satisfaction that came from yanking the big suckers out of the earth gave you too much momentary euphoria to care. That would be a problem for your future self.

For now, your newest target was spotted. A huge weed growing along the fence line. The number of squats you were inadvertently doing in your quest to de-weed the yard was going to hurt you tomorrow. It was kind of hurting you now. Turning your legs to Jell-O. But you were determined to vanquish every form of unsavory vegetation before sunset. You’d use tomorrow as a day of rest if it came to that.

It was probably going to come to that. Gardening was proving to be a workout in itself.

Pulling yourself to standing, you walked over to the weed by the fence and crouched down, gripping it and giving a firm tug around the stock. But the titan weed hardly budged. You arched a brow and wrapped your other hand around it, tugging once more. You swore the weed pulled back as you rocked on your heels. Frustrated, you sat yourself on your knees and leaned back, trying to use your body weight to get the massive bulb from the earth with a grunt.

At least, you thought you grunted.

Wait that wasn’t you.

You paused; your hands still wrapped around the weed as you stayed frozen in mid tug.

There was another grunt in a masculine tone— which most certainly did not come from you.

“Goddamn it…” The voice was deep, dripping with a sort of smooth roughness that was a complete contradiction that only made sense from hearing it firsthand. It was the sort of tone that held an edge in any words that came from it. In spite of it coming from the direction of your neighbor’s yard, it was not a voice you’d heard before. You were sure you would have remembered it.

“Erwin—fuck!” There it was again.

“Shh…” That second voice you thought you recognized. Finally, your head darted up from your place on your knees out of instinct. You were eye level with the rough hole in the plank you’d noticed earlier that exposed your neighbor’s yard.

And much more than that.

From your viewpoint you could see the edge of a pool, lush plants, a deck further back—but the lovely yard wasn’t what pulled your attention. What pulled your attention was two people on a lounge chair, one propped up by the lifted back, the other straddling across strong hips.

The person sitting back on the lounge was obviously Erwin, naked as the day he was born in the late afternoon sun. Your assumption had been right about his torso. It was in fact sculpted by the hands of god, all firm muscle and definition. You could vaguely make out light traces of hair on it from your distance, what little there was must have been as blond as he was.

However, this isn’t what struck you the most about what you were seeing. Though it was a sight to behold. What struck you the most was that the person in his lap—

Was not Mike.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, lashes fluttering as if you could wash the other figure away and replace it with Mike. But the person on Erwin’s lap couldn’t be more different and there was no way in hell to confuse the two even with the most vivid of imaginations.

He was smaller, clearly shorter, with a body that was muscular on its own but far more lithe than the bulkier form of Mike. It was hard to see his face at the angle you were given. The lounge was not exactly parallel to the break in the fence, giving an angle that displayed a view of the sinewy back of the stranger, as well as their stark black hair, but no hint to their face in the slightest. But you could see Erwin’s, twisted in pleasure, and even at a distance it was obvious what was taking place.

Swallowing thickly, your eyes drifted down the stranger’s back to a pert round ass currently stuffed with Erwin—which from what little you could see not buried inside, was not an easy adjustment.

“Fuck me harder.” Came that deep voice once again, a commanding growl for more as his hips rolled down on the intruding length.

Erwin grunted, his fingers digging into the man’s waist in a white-knuckle grip as he bucked himself up, thrusting himself into the ravenette. “Beg for it then.” He bit back in a grunt, it seemed to be taking a great deal of effort to keep from fulfilling the request, if his clenching palms and strained voice were anything to go by.

The man on top of Erwin scoffed, lifting his body and sitting himself right back down on his lap, forcing the cock deep inside him before rocking his hips forward and back, pulling a moan from Erwin. “When have I ever begged?” His tone was deceptively even for what he was doing— as if taking that massive length was the easiest thing in the world. Perhaps something he did regularly.

You weren’t so sure you would be able to keep an even tone had you been in the raven’s place even if it had been the hundredth time.

A smirk played on the blonde’s lips, “First time for everything.” You thought you heard, but the voice was quiet, perhaps suddenly conscious that they were outside.

Pale fingers slid up the plains of Erwin’s chest to coil around his neck. “I’ll take it myself.” The black-haired male growled, steadying himself on his knees before he started to bounce on the cock inside him. He pulled himself up, nearly taking the shaft out of his hole before slamming himself back down, muted moans pulling from him each time he forced himself down on the lap with a lewd slapping of skin.

It was at that moment that the weed in your hand snapped, sending you backwards with a yelp. You’d lost your balance, your butt making contact with the soles of your shoes as you plopped down completely on your knees from your previously raised position on them. Ditching the weed, you crawled away from the hole in a panic and covered your mouth with your hand as though you could turn back time and capture the yelp that was already in the air.

It wasn’t until you were a good seven feet from the fence that you allowed yourself to listen for any sound. There was silence for a long while other than your rapidly thumping heart under your palm while you attempted to keep it in your chest. It was only when you heard the faint and distant sound of skin on skin, a sound you’d only hear if you’d known to listen for it, that you allowed yourself to breath. You pulled your mouth shut, not realizing how long it’d been hanging open. You’d probably swallowed a bug or two in your stupor. You couldn’t be sure.

Feeling your pulse throb between your legs, you whined softly, squeezing your thighs together and biting your bottom lip as guilt washed over you. The guilt was rather misdirected, at least it should have been. But you’d felt it for a variety of reasons. The hallow yet heavy sensation sat deep in your chest. You’d peeped on your neighbor, accident or not, a total invasion of privacy. What made it worse was the wetness steadily forming at your core. You’d peeped like a horny teenager and gotten turned on by it.

If the guild from that wasn’t enough—you’d gotten turned on, meanwhile Mike was being cheated on.

That last part stung the most.

Erwin was cheating on Mike.

You paced back and forth in your living room, the tip of your thumb in your lips so you could bite at your nail—a habit you’d thought you’d long since kicked.

How on how on earth were you going to tell Mike that he was being cheated on? Should you tell him at all? Was it really your place?

These where the questions stirring in your mind as you paced. If you continued to traverse one end of your living room to the other, you would likely ware a rut in your flooring.

Plucking your thumb from your mouth, you stilled your feet and pulled your phone from the pocket of your leggings, tapping away on the technological rectangle to bring up Sasha’s number. It was times like this where you needed to get out of your head. So, in these moments you often talked out your thoughts with Sasha. It was the only way to get out of the infinite circle your pondering often became.

‘If you were being cheated on, would you want someone to tell you?’

It wasn’t ten seconds after you sent the text than those little ellipsis came on the screen to indicate your friend was already typing out a reply.

‘What do you know?’

You brought up the keyboard of your phone to explain, but another message quickly followed.

‘Is Connie cheating on me?’

‘I’m gonna serve him in the burgers.’

‘I’m Sweeney Todd-ing this bitch.’

You had to type faster to cut her off. Maybe starting the message like that hadn’t been your wisest move.

‘No!’

You sent the message twice when you saw the ellipsis raise on your screen again, being sure she saw your reply so you could clearly explain.

‘Not you or Connie! I’m talking about my neighbors.’

‘Oh’.

She wrote back, a momentary pause before adding,

‘Don’t tell Connie about me making him into burgers.’

This pulled a smile from you and curbed your anxiety, allowing your heart to still. Leave it to Sasha to calm your nerves with her naturally comedic personality.

‘Anyway, what happened?’

Well that calm was short lived. You remained standing in case you had to get the nervous energy out by pacing again.

‘I met the neighbors. The ones Della told us about when we were moving me in, remember?’

It only took a second for Sasha to text back—she was fast with her fingers even though she had had the same shitty phone for close to 3 years. Only shitty because of the cracked screen that she had more than enough money to fix, but always complained if she got a new one, she would just drop it anyway. You were fairly sure the phone also had a little dent in it, she said it added character.

‘Yeah.’

‘They hot?’

‘Ridiculously.’

‘Niiice.’

You typed hastily to try and stay on topic.

‘Their names are Mike and Erwin.’

‘And they’re hot.’

You snorted but continued typing, trying not to let your thoughts linger on how attractive both the men were. That wasn’t was the discussion was about. You cut to the chase.

‘I accidentally saw Erwin having sex with someone that was NOT Mike.’

The reply actually took a full minute, though it wasn’t long, an indicator that Sasha had probably typed a few different replies but deleted them until settling on what it was she did send.

‘How did you ACCIDENTALLY see that?’

You could hear the accusatory tone through the little blue bubble that held her words.

‘I was in the backyard and I heard a sound and I ACCIDENTALLY looked through a hole in the fence.’

Reading that back—it really did sound like you were some kind of voyeur.

‘It really was an accident. I was weeding.’

These excuses were completely pitiful, and you were the one writing them.

‘So did you accidentally get a good look at who he was screwing?’

‘I only saw his back.’

It was only half a lie. You saw his strong back, his black hair, and an amazing ass.

‘Was he hot?’

Maybe texting Sasha wasn’t as productive as you originally thought.

‘It was a very nice back.’

An understatement if there ever was one. You hastily added to the message.

‘But that’s not the point. It wasn’t Mike. Now I don’t know if I should tell Mike or if I should just mind my business.’

On the one hand, you wanted to have a good relationship with your neighbors, and who they were and were not sleeping with was not something you should be concerning yourself with. Injecting yourself into their love life was something you didn’t feel you had the right to do, especially because you hardly knew the two of them.

On the other hand, you thought about how much it hurt to be cheated on. You imagined Mike, blissfully unaware that the love of his life was sleeping with someone else in their own home and it made your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. You ached for him

‘Are you 100% sure that you saw what you think you saw?’

Taking a moment to recall the memory, a blush creeped up your neck and right up to your face. You shook you head to will the images away, once again ashamed of the heat it stirred between your legs.

‘Yeah. It was clear.’

There was no way to mistake what you saw. They weren’t nude sunbathing, they weren’t naked cuddling, and there was no way the other guy just fell on Erwin’s dick.

This time it took Sasha more than two minutes to answer. She must have been thinking. Maybe even asking Connie what he thought. You hopped not. Connie and Sasha may not have known your neighbors, but you also didn’t want to gossip about them. You honestly just needed your friend’s advice on a difficult situation. One that you’d put your own damn self in.

‘That’s hard. I mean you don’t really know them well enough to say anything, ya know?’

That was something you wrestled with. It would be different if this were a friend who you were close with. It wouldn’t even be a debate if it were someone you knew well, like Sasha. You would tell them in a heartbeat because not telling them would likely have greater consequences. But when it came to Mike and Erwin, you didn’t know them. Again, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t your place.

But if you did form a friendship with them, would you be more obligated to tell Mike? You imagined having a friendship with the men and all the while harboring this dark secret.

There you went again, 100 miles ahead of present.

You chewed your thumb nail again, not noticing that you had once again began to pace.

You must have been taking too long to respond, because another text from Sasha lit up your phone.

‘Who do you think he was banging?’

‘Dunno. They do have a gardener.’

Your reply was meant to be sarcastic. How were you supposed to know? You didn’t know a thing about the guys next door other than they were both attractive and that one was a cheater.

Actually, you were relatively certain that Erwin wasn’t banging the gardener. That man on top of Erwin was too pale to see the sun on a regular basis.

A vibration in your hand made you lift your phone again, expecting another text from Sasha, only to see a message from an unknown number. Your brows knitted together as your finger pressed against the notification, pulling up the text.

‘Hello, [y/n]. It’s Erwin. If you’re available, we’d like to have you over for dinner tomorrow night.’

These guys didn’t waste any time. You’d be thankful about not having to cook if you weren’t harboring a secret about your inviter. You stared at the message, kicking yourself for opening it because Erwin would likely have an alert on his end that said the text had been read. He’d be expecting a reply.

It wasn’t as though you could lie and tell him you wouldn’t be home. That avoidance strategy wouldn’t work with someone who could just peek outside and see if your car were in the driveway. Hiding your car in the garage wouldn’t work when it was still a mess of packed and unpacked boxes you had yet to either toss or organize. Honestly, you weren’t about to be up all night clearing it just to avoid your neighbors. You answered before you had more time to mull it over.

‘That sounds great, I look forward to seeing you.’

Was that too formal? You added the number as a new contact before you could hyper analyze your own words. It was tempting to place the number under the name ‘adulterer’, but you thought better of it. You were just being petty about a matter that you shouldn’t be so invested in. You were going to have dinner with your neighbors and completely forget about what you saw—for your own sanity. You weren’t about to let self-imposed guilt eat you up inside. Though this wouldn’t be the first time.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” You muttered to yourself, a little mantra you used to say when reminding yourself that something, often some sort of drama, wasn’t your business to involve yourself in or to be dragged into.

Instead, you opted for continuing your conversation with Sasha, steering it toward any other subject possible. By the grace of god, she started asking you about your move and how you were enjoying your new house. Your friend always knew how to distract you. Maybe she felt your nerves through the phone.

She’d known you early in your journey through therapy and knew when you needed to talk and when you needed to be distracted. Sometimes she knew it before you did.

Counting and colors could only go so far. Sometimes a friend was the best grounding tool.

To bad you couldn’t bring her to dinner tomorrow.

You’d be on your own for that.

#levi x erwin x mike x reader #levi ackerman x erwin smith x mike zacharias x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #mike zacharias x reader #mike x reader #plus size!reader #plus size reader

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 4 years

Text

Necessary Sacrifice

This is kind of a part 2 to You’re Next but you don’t really need to read that to know what’s happening. But I would love if you gave it a glance. . .see if you like it. . .maybe?

Pairings: none really, reader is gender neutral

Warnings: just fluff and some language.

On any given day, Ambrose can be either a pretty boring place or sheer madness, depending on the number of people wandering around.

Today is one of the boring ones.

Vincent is in the basement working tirelessly on the towns most recent 'guests.' Bo is down at the station salvaging a few parts from the truck that those 'guests' drove into town with.

You are in the kitchen internally debating the shelf life of the boxed macaroni n' cheese you found while hunting down something for lunch.

Lester is currently walking in the front door, a little unusual given that it's noon, but not out of the ordinary.

"Hey Lester, do you know how old this- JESUS H. FUCKING CHRIST! WHAT THE HELL?!"

The smell Lester normally carries around with him is something you get use to and contrary to what the tourists think when they meet him, he does indeed bath. But this new smell hits you like a well aimed punch.

It reeks like skunk.

"That bad?" Lester chuckles, standing in the doorway, eyes watery and a little red.

"Yes! Don't you take one more step inside or so help me!" you walk cautiously from the kitchen, hand held firmly over your nose and mouth, to stare down the man now hovering on the doorstep.

"C'mon, I gotta get to the shower, this ain't exactly pleasant for me either" he shoots back.

"Nope, you're gonna stink this place out worse than when Bo tried to cook drunk, just stay outside" you wave your free hand at him, shooing him back.

"And what am I supposed to do? Wait for rain and a strong breeze?"

"No, just. . .wait outside and I'll figure something out okay? Is it just on your clothes?" you ask hopefully.

"Well, I think my hat got the worst of it" he admits, shifting uncomfortably.

You had wondered why he had looked a little off. Seeing Lester without his hat was like seeing Bo in a short sleeve shirt or Vincent without hair hanging in his face.

"Okay, I'll get some towels and clean clothes. Maybe just, rinse off with the hose and here-" you dart back into the kitchen, grab a half empty dish soap bottle and toss it at him "start scrubbing."

Figuring something out proves to be a lot more difficult given the fact that you live on a tight budget of stolen items and cash with the nearest actual town being a good hour or so drive away.

Your rummaging and general commotion eventually brings Vincent up from the depths of his workshop, Mite tagging along behind him, to find you digging around in search of baking soda.

"Oh, hey, Lester got sprayed by a skunk and I need some baking soda, any idea where it might be?" you ask with a glance over your shoulder, arms deep in a cabinet.

The answer Vincent gives you sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

"Yeah, ha ha, hilarious" you deadpan and point to the pile of raggedy towels you had pulled out of the closet "now could you please go give him those please, his clothes are gonna need at least two washes."

His shoulders slump at your words and he walks like a man headed to the gallows as he picks up the pile of towels.

"Not sure if there's any left" Vincent's voice is a sharp rasp.

"Well that sucks. Definitely gonna have to put that on the shopping list. Okay, I'll be out in a minute."

Walking down the front steps of the Sinclair house, a cloth tied firmly over the lower half of your face, supplies in hand, you feel ready for battle.

Vincent is standing a good distance away from his little brother, old hose on full blast and pointed straight at Lester, who is stripped down to his threadbare boxers. Mite is calmly watching the whole ordeal from beneath a chair on the porch.

"Hey! HEY! I ain't on fire Vince! Turn that thing down would ya!" Lester yells, completely soaked, clothes in a wet pile beside his feet.

You gently tap Vincent on the shoulder with your yellow-glove covered hand and motion to the hose, which he kinks to halt the water flow.

"Okay, so this is how it's gonna go" you approach Lester, an open container in hand "add the rest of the soap to this and wash off with it, you're hair too, just don't get it in your mouth or eyes."

"What is it?" he asks, gingerly taking the mixture from you.

"Peroxide and baking soda, don't put a lid on it or it'll explode."

" 'Scues me?! An I'm jus' gonna put this all on my skin? What about tomato sauce?"

"Tomato sauce doesn't get rid of the smell it just covers it up" you tell him, as you reach down to pick up the ball of skunk drenched clothes. You hold it out as far away from you as possible.

Behind you, Vincent makes a sound like 'I told you so' at your statement and lets go of the hose to continue spraying down Lester, who gives a squawk at the undoubtedly cold water.

Once inside, you sprint to the laundry room and toss the clothes into the waiting drum of water and a diluted version of the soap, peroxide and baking soda mix. After closing the lid, the smell only lingers for a minute or two.

You open the small window in the room just to be careful. You didn't grow up in the country but you spent enough time camping to know that it's usually better to be safe than sorry.

As it turns out, Lester's hat did bear the brunt of the stink. You try not to think about how that was possible and focus on the fact that along with his hat being unbearably smelly, Lester's hair also carries a good share of the stink.

And you didn't have enough of the deodorizing mixture to go around.

When Bo comes trudging back up to the house for something he immediately forgets once he's filled in on the current Ambrose drama, he laughs harder than you've ever seen him laugh before. He doesn't offer any advice on the situation, just goes inside to grab a beer and plants himself on the porch steps, grinning, while Mite comes to sit beside him.

At that point, Lester tells the 'I Thought The Skunk Was Dead, But I Guess Not' story as he sits down in the yard to dry out. Vincent hides in the shade up on the porch, for once not looking like he wants to escape to the shelter of his workshop.

Mite is panting happily with you and Bo on either side of her as she accepts a rare petting from Bo, who seems to be unaware of what his non-beer filled hand is doing.

Lester branches off into another story, as he does when no one stops him, and you can't help but smile. It's so rare to have all the Sinclair boys in one place, not arguing or in need of some kind of first aid. You know this won't likely happen again this century, so you savor it.

The excited tone of Lester's voice, the occasional huff of amusement from Vincent, the way Bo isn't constantly tugging his sleeves over his wrists and the weight of Mite's head on your lap.

Now that you really think about it, you don't really mind the boring days Ambrose doles out every now and again.

"Hey!" you jolt up from your lounging against the steps, scaring Mite off your lap "I know how we can get the stink out of your hair Lester."

"How?" he squints over at you, the sun hitting his eyes full force now that he's without his hat.

"Just stay there, I'll go grab the clippers!" you jump up, scrambling towards the front door.

"What?! No way! N-O!" Lester begins gathering up the clean clothes.

"It's a necessary sacrifice, Les" Bo says and stands up, heading toward his brother, presumably to keep him from running off.

Vincent lingers on the steps if Bo needs back up.

Nope, you had no problem with the boring days, as long as you had your boys to help you through them.

#lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax #house of wax (2005)#slasher x reader #slashers #slasher community #fluff #duck did it

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bottleofspilledink · 4 years

Text

God's Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter I

September 10, 1993, St. Agnes School For Girls

Eve stared at the bible she was so desperately clutching, her nails creating indents on it's fine, leather cover.

"Hail, holy queen,

Mother or mercy,

Hail, our life, our sweetness, and our hope..."

Her stomach twisted as she switched from one prayer to another in her head.

"Glory be to the Father,

And to the Son,

And to the Holy Spirit..."

She wasn't even sure if she'd finished before beginning a different one, thoughts continually straying, focus nearly non-existent.

"Our Father,

Who art in Heaven,

Hallowed be thy name..."

If she was more aware of herself, she would have thought it miraculous that the book didn't simply slip from her grasp.

They had just finished the first gym class of their senior year and she could still picture it so vividly.

Airy sighs of relief echoed through the showers, mixing with the sound of running water and murmured complaints of aching limbs.

Warm water cascaded down them all as her chestnut eyes wandered, gaze flitting from the floor, to the nude girl next to her, to the faucet knobs, then to the floor once more.

She couldn't help but envy Claudia's soap, the lilac bar sliding over the soft, supple skin of her thighs, gliding over the gentle swell of her breasts, leaving sweet smelling suds and translucent bubbles in their wake.

It hardly got better when she towelled off. Girls roamed around the room in various states of undress.

When the prayers didn't work, she brought her sweaty hands up to palm at the rosary that, despite dangling at her neck, had always felt too tight.

Just a bit.

Her face flushed as even more of earlier's memories surfaced.

She recalled how her classmate, Tabitha, leant down to ask for a turn with her brush, entirely bare save for a towel that, instead of covering her body, had been used to wrap her wet hair.

She recalled how Naomi had slipped on the wet tile, bumping into her in an attempt to stay standing, wet hair dripping onto Eve as she was pressed into the locker, body hot against her back even with the towel between them.

And once that failed to purge the thoughts from her head, she shifted her gaze to the crucifix above the whiteboard, exchanging prayers for pleas so desperate that would make anyone who heard it cave and help her.

Though unfortunately for Eve, no one was listening.

She wanted to stop the thoughts.

She needed to stop the thoughts, the frantic beating of her heart, the pulsing heat that came from between her legs, lest she risk losing everything in this life and the next.

"Please," she thought, eyes clenched shut, her ivory hands were slick and shaking as she brought them together, fingertips growing red with each pleading squeeze, "help me."

"I know you wouldn't put me through this if you thought I couldn't handle it, but I'm begging you, help me." The words were now a mantra, repeating over and over til it lost all meaning, words meshing together in her mind in a senseless fashion, fading into the background of her thoughts all together.

Her amber eyes brimmed with tears at what could happen to her, to her soul, if she wasn't able to stop, if this wanton depravity escaped her mind, if she decided to go forth and search for ways to fulfill this sick fantasy of hers.

And through some miracle or curse, her prayers had been realized in the form of the shrill shriek of the fire alarm. Her heart beat in panic instead of longing and arousal receded, replaced by fear.

"Get in line, girls. Remember our drills," Sister Jane said, calmly rising from her seat, somehow immune to the fear and worry that now permeated the air.

At the order, lines were formed, rushed and frantic and the complete opposite of their usually pristine formation as they speed walked through the cloisters.

The place was bustling with life, tiny heels clicking and voices buzzing as the already crooked lines dissipated completely as people shoved and bumped into each other.

Eve could barely move, her right side pressed firmly into the walls. She shuffled along as best she could, making way for one of the nuns fighting against the crowd trying to reach the telephone to call the fire department.

They arrived at the courtyard quickly and despite the attempts to settle them, some girls were running all over the grass, shouting names, looking for friends and ensuring their safety.

Though the source of the fire was still a mystery, it was clear that calming the students would take a good while.

Eve was shivering in the crisp autumn air, a crunchy leaf smacking her in the face as she rubbed her hands together. In all the commotion, she had left her coat behind, the thick wool remaining draped over the back of her chair and utterly useless to her now.

Just when the sisters were at their wits end, one of the more elderly nuns and girls in aprons rushed out of the west wing door with their hands and handkerchiefs covering their mouths.

They donned flour stains on their school-mandated black aprons and reeked of smoke. Most were violently coughing, one of them dry heaving onto the grass because of the force of it.

The girls were far too distracted to notice one of their fellow classmates slipping away from them.

"Sister Agnes!" The women rushed over to her as she fell to the ground, habit nearly slipping off when her frail body collided into the damp grass.

"What happened? Did all the girls make it out?" Mother Cecilia asked, nearly hysterical as she knelt by her fallen friend.

"Thank the Lord, I believe so, yes." Sister Agnes pushed herself up and hid the bit of hair that escaped her hood. "Oh, I don't know what happened! We were just baking, and- and I- That girl! She put it in the oven! That wretched girl! She must have started the fire!" The woman marched over to her students, face distorted in rage.

"Where is she?! Where's Lilith?!"

Eve, being so far from the commotion, hardly noticed it all as she sat alone on one of the wooden benches. She was far too occupied with warming herself. A violent shiver went through her as her leg brushed against the cold metal nail of the seat.

"Feeling chilly?" A girl with striking red hair asked her, taking off her oven mitts and waving them at Eve.

"Oh! Uhm, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though." She said, straightening herself. A gust of wind had blown past them, allowing Eve to catch a faint whiff of the smoky scent emanating from the girl.

The other merely smirked, "Shy? There's no need to be. Besides, I can see you shivering."

The blonde gave an awkward laugh, feeling her face flush as she was caught lying.

"You got me there! But really, I'm fine, it's nothing I can't handle," Eve tried reassuring the girl, who only raised a brow at her.

"Sure about that? I don't mind letting you borrow them, it's not like I'm using them or anything." The girl practically insisted on taking the oven mitts, holding them out to Eve.

Even from afar, she could feel it's warmth, her hand gave a tiny twitch, completely revealing how much she wanted it.

"If you're sure..." She reached out and took the mittens from her, their fingers briefly brushing together.

And for a second, a single, fleeting moment, the overwhelming desire to hold the other girl's hand overtook her, and she froze, head spinning at the other's heat.

She wanted to feel her smooth skin, her warmth, and have her soft hands encompass her own.

But no such thing happened and Eve pushed the thought aside to slip the oven mitts on.

"Thank you. I honestly don't think I could have taken it much longer, I have more goosebumps than an actual goose at this point."

The girl laughed at this, hearty and loud and absolutely stunning as her frame shook with the force of it all. The autumn sun made her hair shine like a ruby, it's tips grazing her apron as she moved about.

"My name's Eve, by the way." She clumsily brushed her own hair from her face, oven mitts making the task more difficult than it should have been, then stuck out her hand for the other to shake.

"That's pretty. It suits you," the girl said nonchalantly. Eve would have thought it to be sarcasm if it weren't for the seemingly genuine smile still on her face.

"I'm-"

"There you are!" Mother Cecilia pushed through the crowd of students and grabbed the dark haired girl's outstretched hand, preventing it from reaching Eve's and pulling her up. "Come with me! Now!"

And so, the girl was gone before Eve could make a sound. She could do nothing but watch as people around them parted to let the two pass, not wanting the wrath of Mother Cecilia to befall them too.

They stayed out there for another fifteen minutes before the fire department arrived.

The girls were craning their necks as they crammed themselves at the windows to get a glimpse of the firemen as the ran through the halls, hose trailing behind them. Whispers of excitement ran through them as one of the men actually entered the courtyard to talk to the nuns.

After an hour long role call, they were ushered back to their classes, chatter untamable due to all of the events that had transpired.

There was only one girl who stayed silent through it all.

Eve was still staring at the red oven mitts when she reached her seat, wondering how on earth she would return them, til the answer presented themselves through the tag that slipped out when she took them off.

On that tag, scrawled messily in a thick black marker was the name Lilith Damien.

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mymoodwriting · 4 years

Text

Perfect Love

Bang Chan/Jisung, Bang Chan/Felix, Felix/Jisung

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: Electroshock, Medication, Nightmares, Manipulation

Words: 2.3K

Chapters:

Prompt: When Jisung started dating Chan it was a lot of fun, but that’s all it was and he wanted more. It was a mutual break up, or at least he thought it was. He had no idea what Chan was capable of, that is until he finally went to his house, carried into it actually. A second chance at love is entirely out of his control, and he might not have been the first of Chan’s lovers to be in this position.

“It’s really early Sungie, you should go back to sleep.”

“No! No…” Jisung was still shaking. “I don’t want to…”

“Alright, alright, how about something warm? Make you feel better.”

“Please… that would be nice…”

“Let’s go then.”

Chan helped Jisung up, he couldn’t really stand cause he was still shaking, so Chan carried him upstairs. He sat him down in the living room, deciding to warm up some milk, getting some honey from the cabinet too. He grabbed a tray, putting everything on it and going over to Jisung. He set the tray down on the coffee table, grabbing a blanket to wrap around Jisung, kissing his head.

“How much honey do you want?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“You’re very sweet, so I think you can have a lot.”

Chan poured some honey into the warm glass of milk, he stirred it, giving it a little taste before handing it to Jisung. His hands were shaking and it was obvious he’d end up spilling it, so Chan helped him out instead. The drink made him smile.

“It’s good.”

“I thought so, it was my favorite to have after a bad night too. My mom always made it for me.”

“Thank you…”

“You wanna talk about it?” Jisung shook his head. “That’s okay, I’m here when you need to talk.”

“Can I… can I ask you something…”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Felix… Felix said… I was special… to you.”

“You are.”

“Why?”

Chan scoffed and took a moment. “When I first saw you… I was so… fascinated. You danced without a care in the world, just enjoying the moment. I figured your whole life was like that, didn’t actually check till after we broke up.”

“Did you… did you stalk me?”

“No, I was looking out for you. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“That sounds-”

“Why did you work at that restaurant?”

“What?”

“They treated you horribly, especially that one costumer who threw their drink in your face.”

“You… you saw that…”

“Yeah, and that’s when I realized you needed me. I was so stupid to think everything was okay for you.”

“Chan-”

“All I ever did when we were together was make you happy, that’s all I wanted to do. I didn’t know the rest of your life wasn’t like that. I should have taken better care of you then and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“That’s not-”

“Sh, finish you milk and take some medicine, it’s for your throat. I’ll be right back.”

Chan went upstairs leaving Jisung alone. He had stopped shaking, drinking the rest of his milk comfortably. He glanced out the window, the outside still dark. After a moment he thought he saw something move outside, he screamed and hid behind the couch, wrapping the blanket tight around him.

“Jisung? What are you doing?”

When Chan returned he saw the boy on the floor. The other mumbled about something outside, he didn’t ask anymore questions though.

“There’s nothing there, come on, take the medicine and you can go up and lay down with Felix, maybe get some sleep. Would you like that?”

“Yes…”

“Alright, medicine so your throat doesn’t feel bad later.”

Chan gave the boy some proper medicine, then carried him upstairs putting him in bed with Felix. Jisung felt better, curling up on the bed.

“Sh, don’t wake Felix okay. I’ll be right back.”

Jisung nodded, looking sleepy. He went back down to clean up, putting everything away. He grabbed a beer, grabbing the phone, Jisung’s phone, from the medicine cabinet, turning it on. He sat down on the counter, checking the comments on the post of Jisung he had made earlier. They were mostly compliments, although what caught his attention was a comment from the user Lee Know.

It started as a compliment, but hours later there was another one from them, asking where the photo was taken. It was a rather stupid question, the background was grass meaning it could have been taken anywhere. He paid it no mind, the phone catching up with service and showing him the missed messages and calls, all from the same person, Minho.

He read through the messages. They started out simple, checking in, see what Jisung was up to. Then they started asking where he was, talking about the empty apartment. He wasn’t too happy about that, finishing his beer and tossing the can, going upstairs. Jisung had fallen asleep, he was glad but he needed him awake for a second.

“Jisung, baby, wake up.”

“Chan…”

“Hey, I need you to take a picture real quick.”

Chan removed the collar, setting it down, pulling Jisung away from Felix. The boy was still half asleep, his grip on his phone not that strong. Still, he managed to take a selfie, a sleepy smile on his face. Chan looked it over.

“Good boy. Neck.” Jisung lifted his head up so Chan could put the collar back on. “Go back to sleep now.”

“Okay…”

Jisung laid back down, snuggling with Felix. Chan went back downstairs, messaging Minho, saying he was moving in with a friend, been busy unpacking and too tired to do much else. He added the picture afterwards for assurance then turned the phone off and put it back where he found it. Whoever this Minho guy was, he really hoped they wouldn’t become a problem.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Jisung…”

Felix woke up cuddled up in Jisung’s embrace, he was being held tight. He found it adorable, gently shaking the other.

“Jisung, wake up.”

Jisung whined, burying his face in the other’s back. Felix laughed, resorting to laying back down instead. He could just wait for him to get up, so he laid back down. He didn’t know how much time had passed before Chan came up to get them.

“What’s this? Breakfast in bed?”

“Jisung seems really sleepy.”

“Yeah, but he can’t be a bed bug now can he. Wake up, Sungie.”

Chan pulled Jisung away from Felix, the boy whining and try to keep hold of the other. The two laughed, Chan resorting to tickling Jisung to wake him up. He couldn’t resist, bursting out laughing, trying to get Chan to stop.

“And he’s awake, do you want me to stop?”

“Please!” Jisung was still laughing. “I can’t breathe!”

“Okay, okay.”

Jisung was panting, staring up at Chan, smile still on his face. Felix had already gotten out of bed to wash up for the morning. Chan pulled up the boys shirt and kissed his chest, building up for a deep kiss to leave Jisung a little more breathless.

“Wash up and then come down, I made pancakes.”

Jisung nodded, staying in bed to catch his breath and wait for Felix. After he washed up the two went down together, sitting at the table and taking their morning meds. The pancakes were tasty as expected, the whip cream and limitless syrup making it sweeter. It felt like someone’s birthday.

“Is it your birthday, Felix?”

“What? Me? No.”

“Chan?”

“No.”

“Is it my birthday?”

Chan laughed. “No, why do you ask?”

“This all really sweet, just wondering what the occasion was.”

“No need for an occasion, we can have pancakes whenever you want.”

“Really?”

His comments had brought smiles to the others. He started to feel embarrassed over what he had asked. Back at his apartment he mostly ate takeout, or something from the restaurant, rarely having a home cooked meal, let alone a tasty breakfast.

“Yeah, of course, anything for you.”

“Can we… can we have pancakes tomorrow?”

“Oh, can we?” Felix chimed in. “Pretty please.”

“Well when you both ask so nicely how can I refuse. I was gonna suggest we do some baking today too.”

“Can we make cookies!”

“What about donuts?!”

“We can do both, but you have to promise to clean up the mess.”

“We will! Promise, right Sungie?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then you guys better clean up the kitchen now. I don’t really have all the ingredients for cookies and donuts but I’ll go out and get some.”

“Okay.”

“Then stay out of trouble. I won’t be gone long.”

Chan excused himself from the table, giving them both a kiss before heading out. The two were excited, the days activities were gonna be a lot of fun and have a tasty outcome. They set out the ingredients they had, discussing the type of cookies and donuts they could make. When Chan returned they eagerly took the grocery bags, overjoyed with all the new ingredients. If they learned one thing that day, cooking doesn’t equal baking, especially from scratch.

It’s an understatement saying they made a mess. At some point the ingredients were used in a food fight, most of their hair was white due to the flour in the end. The store bought cookie dough was a mistake as it never got into the oven. It was a backup, in case making cookie dough from scratch failed, so they could still have cookies, but that quickly disappeared. At least they did manage to make cookies. The donuts were a whole other story.

Neither of the two were allowed near the stove, they were very impatient. Chan had to keep them busy by having them clean up the mess, again, and clean themselves up a bit too. The kitchen was maybe a fourth cleaned when the cookies and donuts were done, they couldn’t just let them cool down and get hard. So with some milk they enjoyed their goodies, maybe not as delicious as something they’ve had before, but good nonetheless, they vowed to do better next time.

“Well, I don’t want to clean another mess in the house, so I’m hosing you both down in the garden, let’s go.”

“What!”

“Just to get the flour off you, Lix. You can take a bath with Sungie after.”

“Oh, okay!”

“And you both can hose me down after.”

“Awesome!” Jisung cheered. “I call first!”

They went out to the back, the sun almost setting. Chan soaked them both with the hose, getting all the flour and all other ingredients off them. Jisung eagerly took the hose after to soak Chan, Felix yanking it for himself after, they certainly went overboard.

“Alright, alright.” Chan yelled, spitting out water and laughing. “I don’t want either of you catching a cold, let alone me, who would take care of you then?”

“We could take care of you for a change.” Felix said.

“Maybe, but I like looking after both of you. Now go dry up a bit and go take a bath, I’ll be up after I finish cleaning.”

“We were supposed to clean.” Jisung mentioned.

“Did I say that? Well I lied, now go before I douse you again!”

He let the hose go off and the two ran inside. They did their best not to track too much water through the house. Jisung was a bit nervous about taking a bath with Felix but the other assured him it was fine, filling the tub with plenty of bubbles. Once they were in the water any doubts faded, both taking turns cleaning each other, playing with the bubbles.

“And are my boys clean?” Chan peeked into the bathroom. “Or do they need help.”

“Help!” Jisung laughed.

“Really, I thought-”

When Chan got close enough Felix and Jisung both grabbed him and pulled him in, clothes and all. They laughed, splashing him with water. He fought back as best he could but it was two against one, eventually he surrendered.

“Alright you win, you win. Good job. Can I take a bath now?”

“Can we help?”

“Um… fine, but dry up okay.”

They did so, putting on a bit of clothes, helping Chan out of his own. Felix was used to helping Chan with a few things, like a bath, he knew what he liked, Jisung was fairly new but a quick learner. Afterwards they all needed to dry off and put on clean clothes.

“Is Jisung sleeping with us tonight?” Felix asked.

“Hm… sorry baby, but no.”

“Please! Please I’ll do anything!”

“I know you would Lix, I know, but Jisung needs his proper rest.”

“Oh… right.”

“Don’t worry okay, eventually he’ll get to sleep with us every night.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be up in a little bit okay.”

“Night Sungie.” Felix gave him a little kiss. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Jisung took Chan’s hand and went downstairs with him. The kitchen still had a faint smell of cookies and donuts, it brought a smile to his face as he went into the basement. Instead of going to his room Chan tied him down on the table.

“Chan…”

“Sh… we had fun today right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s how it’s always going to be soon enough, okay, just smiles and happiness. Would you like that?”

“With you… and Felix…”

“Yup, the three of us. You like the sound of that?”

“Yes…”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it.”

Chan gently administered his medicine, petting his head, then placing the electrodes on. It didn’t take long before Jisung started pulling on the restraints, squirming and screaming.

“Easy, easy, you’ll be just fine, Sungie.” He kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He hit a button on the machine, sending a jolt through the younger boys body. It was set up to do so every half hour, just a small voltage, nothing too damaging. He locked the basement door, going up to Felix, the boy already laying in bed.

“Come on, up, you know you won’t get a goodnight sleep without your medicine.”

“I know.” Felix sat up. “I heard Sungie… is he okay?”

“You’re using pet names now?”

“Can I not?”

“You can, it’s so cute. Ask me again.”

“Is Sungie okay?”

“Yes, he will be, just like you. You remember how it was, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know it’s for his own good. Now, show me your neck.”

Felix did as he was told, drowsiness quick to set in. Chan put his headphones in, sweet music filling his ears, he snuggled under the covers, getting a kiss. He leaned into the older boys touch, happy to be in his arms, and he looked forward to having Jisung around too.

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rosesareviolentlyread · 4 years

Text

WIJ Day 6: Water

SECOND PROMPT surprise yes it’s still Fae bb things. But this one is her perspective! Once again, this is a modern magic world heavily inspired by @0idril0 and @whumpywhumper‘s Nico & Markus/Lucien series respectively. (idk when I’ll stop plugging them and their series’ because I LOVE IT) I HIGHLY recommend you check them out.

CW: Intimate whumper, religious whump, captivity, toxic religion, toxic family, drowning/waterboarding, passing out from said water torture, creepy whumper

Besides the whole bathroom situation, it really isn’t any different than the intense bible study camps her parents would send to. Just the thought makes Faith’s heart ache, the thought of those times. So easy, so much taken for granted.

She will never take God’s gifts to her for granted again.

The Reverend isn’t bad per se. There’s a mini fridge down here filled with healthy snacks for her, chilled water, and leftovers for lunch. Every morning he whips up a bed & breakfast level creation: orange zest pancakes, eggs over easy on fresh baked bread with avocado and vegetables, bagels topped with salmon. Hell, she’s eating better than she ever did in her house. And he brings her fresh clothes, a rotating series of white dresses that remind her of Sunday School as a little girl.

But it doesn’t change the fact that the door out of the basement is locked. It doesn’t change the fact that all she has down here is a Bible and her thoughts, both illuminated by candlelight that dances on the walls. She’d figured out after the first day that it was sound proof, for some reason. A reason that chills her, that she doesn’t think about.

Because he cared. That’s what this was. Every day, he’d take time over dinner with her to discuss the Bible, Jesus, salvation for people of magic like her. Helped her meditate and pray, focus her mind where it had wandered away from Him. She knew it had, knew she had started to get deeper into the magic community, to drift away from the church that had been the cornerstone of her entire life. But isn’t that what growing up is? Exploration and growing?

Most people just don’t tend to grow into a magical heritage they had no idea of.

The worst thing is when he makes her watch the videos. Read the press releases. The news clippings, the facebook posts, the tweets. Never on a device, always printed, in black and white ink she can pour over for hours as if it’ll change things. Change the fact her parents have really disowned her. Literally, in every sense. Attempting to declare her - their real child, the one her real mother had put her in the place of as a changeling - as dead. It’s awful to read people’s posts, opinions, the ways they tear apart her thesis without having read it. Or if they have, they choose to scrutinize details and grammar rather than her intent.

But none of it, not a single word is from Adam. He’d been in the background of the first few videos behind her parent’s speeches. And then nothing. Gone. Somehow that absence, even from words of hatred makes her feel hollow, the way the days without a message from him did. A response. He hated her, she knew, but to hate her so much he couldn’t even come out and say it?

It's exhausting, so much so she’s grateful when the Reverend lets her read the Bible instead.

The source, the True Word. It’s comforting, words that slide in and out of her mind so easily she’s had to start marking it up over and over to stay focused. Based on her counts hidden in the pages, she thinks it’s been about a month, and she’s on her second copy now. The first is more penmarks and highlight than words anymore.

In a way it’s started to feel...better. Everything. All the awful things, all the thoughts so far away in the real world. Sometimes she wonders how her magic friends are. If they care or remember her. They certainly aren’t looking for her, no one is after her post about leaving to ‘go find herself’. For all the media is concerned, she couldn’t take the criticism and vanished.

It’s like Bible Camp. Just a time to refocus herself, her efforts, get it together. The Reverend has helped a lot with that, assured her this is only temporary, only for the safety of her soul. She hated him at first, hated all of this, screamed, but now, she just wants out. She just wants to appreciate the world again, to be able to love every part of it in her bare hands instead of her imagination surrounded by concrete walls and candlelight.

It’s why she perks up when he finally says, “You’ve done well, Faith. I think you’re ready.”

“Ready for what Reverend?” Faith tries to keep her voice innocent, humble, to not betray the excitement that makes her heart flutter in her chest, a moth as desperate to escape to the sunlight as she is.

“To become purified again, my dear. You have been sullied, but I believe you have embraced Christ again as your savior. Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.“ The words are so familiar in his dark voice, one that has followed her throughout her college career, but right now, they’ve never sounded so beautiful.

“Romans 6:3-4” The words come automatic now, a product of the quizzes she’s been subjected to every day. Before this, she had known her bible well. But now it feels like they are imprinted in every wrinkle in her mind, honeyed ink colored by his voice she doesn’t think she’ll ever erase.

But if she can get out of here, she can recolor it. Color it in love and forgiveness. Forgive him, for this, for all this. He was simply following what he thought best right?

Hell is full of good meanings after all.

“Yes, good. Come, I set up the tub in the other room” The other room. The one that’s locked, that she’s never seen the inside of. She’s seen the Reverend go in there before. Heard only gospel music reverberate loudly through the door. She’s imagined maybe it’s a study, perhaps a secret collection. Or a music room of sorts, since he loved to ‘feel’ music, with speakers to boost the bass. But now, it holds a tub? Still, her confusion is outweighed by the prospect of freedom.

Gently, he helps her from her kneeled position, the one that makes her knees ache in a way she longs for, only because it’s something that reminds her this is real. She is real. She will get through this, as the Lord intends.

The room itself is shockingly spartan. It’s rectangular concrete, blotted and patched over time like the ugliest watercolor of brown and grey. A spigot in the corner has a green hose attached, laughably out of place as it fills a large basin, what looks like a trough.

Something in her asks why she hadn’t seen him bring it down, thinks to the dinners and evening teas where she felt too tired to continue talking. But she crushes it under the belief that this is release, and she shouldn’t question God’s Plan.

This has to be God’s Plan.

“Come” Is the command as he beckons her into the tub. Slowly she lowers herself down to her knees, breathing in. God, it’s hot. She’d expected it to be freezing, but it feels more like that sudden dip into a hot tub in the winter, and overwhelming burn that leaves her skin tingling as she struggles to adjust, to focus.

“Thank you Lord, for bringing this lamb to my flock. For allowing her to grow under your light, to fail, so that she may grow greater for it. So that we may bring people into your light, and show that none of us are born sinners, or are abandoned for sinning. I do not know if I would have discovered this path you have intended for me without her, so I thank you. Truly, You are great.”

A thick hand, so much stronger than she ever realized before this basement, hold her arms crossed to her chest. The other cups the back of her head, gentle, but with a grasp that digs into her scalp in a way that would send a shiver down her spine if the water wasn’t so hot why did he make it so hot?

“Because of your Faith in Jesus Christ, I baptize you now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit”

There’s barely time to grab a breath before she’s dipped back into the water, which hasn’t cooled, not at all. It burns on her face, a feeling like her face is being held over a fire, moments ticking by as the heat goes from uncomfortable to unbearable. It forces the air from her lungs until Faith’s left gasping as she’s pulled back up.

But something’s wrong, because the Reverend looks angry.

“Because of your Faith in Jesus Christ, I baptize you now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!”

“Reverend wh-” The words are cut off as she plunged back into the water and how is it hotter? How is it getting hotter and hotter until she’s surrounded by boiling water, a lobster clawing out of its skin as it cooked, a witch melting into a puddle.

But it’s worse because he isn’t bringing her up. She thrashes, tries to buck against his hand as what little breath she had trails away in bubbles, hopes releasing on the surface far away from her. But the hands just dig in. How are they not burning? How is he not burning?

Her eyes open in desperation, trying to see. It’s a mistake. Even as she shuts them they are being boiled alive inside her head, eggs cracked on pavement in the summer sun, a snail covered in salt by sadistic children.

Just as she doesn’t think she can hold on any longer, he brings her up. The only response she can do is gasp for air.

This time, as she blinks through blurred vision she thinks his face isn’t angry, but..sad? That his visage of fear and pain matches her own.

But the words come again, faster, with desperation dripping away any hope she has until she grasps a last gasp of air

“Because of your Faith in Jesus Christ, I baptize you now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!”

It’s no better, even as her own tolerance for it increases. It seems a battle is waged. Is this what those women burned on pyres she learned in history class felt like, dying for a husband? Is this what witches burned at the stake in Salem felt like?

Is this what hell feels like?

Her skin must be burning off, burning away at muscles as the water eats every bit of her like acid, inside and out. The air runs out too quick, too fast, and her body twitches violently, trying to get away from the nothing that’s creeping in the corners of her vision. Some base instinct cries out and she tries to scream, only for the water to come rushing in.

Volcanoes are fountains of pain, she decides, as lava runs through her veins, burning away her voice, her lungs.

Burning away her belief in good intentions being anything but hell itself

Burning away her hope that there is anything that will end this except death

Burning away her awareness until there is nothing left but nothing. No light at the end of the tunnel. No sudden darkness. Nothing is an absence, and Faith has never been anymore.

Coughing is the next thing she remembers. The concrete is blessedly cool against her cheek, even as its hardness presses on her skin that feels tender all over, like a sunburn. Lazily blinking through the tears in her eyes, she sees it looks like that: freshly pink.

Like a cotton candy, something that’s slowly unhinging inside her laughs.

The Reverend’s shaky hands are petting her head, and he’s speaking but she can’t hear over the water that’s still burning her ears. Everything about her feels like a wasteland, a brushfire gone wrong that’s left the land salted and barren. She wishes to go back to the nothing, to the safety of not being here, no longer on fire but doused into damp ashes of who she once was. Who, she knows somewhere deep inside her, she will never be again.

But the world will not stay quiet, and eventually she becomes aware of his words as he shifts her, so that she’s sat up leaning against his chest. The warm arms wrapped around her, gently rocking no longer feel like safety. They feel like a prison.

His voice in her ears is honey that has led her into a spiderweb she’s spent her whole life spinning, a fly creating its own trap.

“Shhh, shh, that’s it, just breathe. I’m sorry, Faith, I’m so sorry. I wanted to believe. That you were ready. That you believed. Lacing the water with iron was a failsafe, a way to burn away the last of the sin. But I know, the wicked tongue of the Fae. It deceives even you, yourself. But we’ll fix it. We will help you believe, not just in pretty words, the truth of Jesus’ salvation. We’ll need to have faith, make changes.”

She wants to make a response, a retort of some proverb or biblical story or line but her brain feels burnt out, bleached to nothing as everything she was is eaten away. All that comes out instead is a wet sob that quickly turns into more coughing.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you. Don’t speak.” The suffocating comfort continues quietly for a moment. “We’ll start with barebones. Make sure you understand completely what you are. Yes, that’s it, you must not have truly believed of the sin you are born with.” It doesn’t matter what she believes, she realizes. What she was born as will never change to things like iron, no matter how hard God or the Reverend tries. Hadn’t a major critique of the magical community been the lack of miracles, real miracles? To not be what she was would be a miracle.

And any belief she’s had in miracles, well, the water has purified that.

“From now on, we’ll make sure you know. Your name will be Fae, until you have earned back Faith”

Faith though has been abandoned in the true face of God.

Tags: @bleedingandfeverish @sableflynn @starry-whump @whumpmasinjuly (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

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captainboringposts · 4 years

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The Legend Of Pop-Squish

I had a friend in my late teenage years that lived in the middle of nowhere.

To get to his house you had to drive many winding country roads and then off-road it on gravel for about a mile.

We were teenage delinquents and his house offered very limited supervision, so it was perfect.

We had a long night or two of smoking, video games, and crappy beer that us teenagers could manage in the 90s.

It was a miserable weekend where the local weather is hot and sunny all day and rainy almost the whole night with humidity being through the roof.

We had made a few ventures out and noticed a dead cat on the road a few times, always swerving to miss it.

Sunday though was a bit different. One of my other friends who was with us was always slightly homophobic in the straight-panic way. So I like to play The Gay Game when he's in the car.

I put my hand on his knee and leave it there, sometimes inching up a little while driving until he freaks out a little.

He didn't freak out this time because while we were driving he saw something I hadn't thought of on this trip yet: the dead cat.

This cat was already dead. It was laying flat on the road and getting somewhat flatter by the day. It hadn't been hit since it was out there, dead things just flatten out a bit over time.

This poor cat body had been baking all day in hot southern sun, steamed every evening on that asphalt by the rain, and then spent several nights marinating in the wetness.

This meant when I didn't swerve and my tire connected two events occurred.

The carcass exploded in a quite impressive way, and...

The water balloon body let loose a torrent so hard that the back tires splashed like I drove through a puddle on a very dry day.

The stench was immediate.

It was overwhelming.

It was a hot day, so we had the windows down and the tires threw that post-cat dribble all over my entire car like a powder coating.

We rolled the windows up and turned the AC on, but no. Pop-Squish's essence had made it into the intake somehow.

We stopped at a gas station and used a water hose to spray the car down. It didn't do much except liven the odor up a bit. Someone else that wasn't with our group almost vomited walking past and asked what that smell was (we just laughed and shrugged in an unhelpful but embarrassed way).

We went to a car wash and bought the most premium automatic wash cycle available. We sat inside stuck with the smell in solidarity because it had permeated our entire existence anyway. In the end it reduced in potency, but that odor was relentless.

We opened the trunk and looked in every nook, cranny, and wheel well back at my friend's place and couldn't figure out what the smell could still be coming from.

That smell lingered on that car for several years.

I got my own special parking space at my buddy's house that was really far away from the porch.

I once thought it was gone for a while, but then changing a flat tire one day let me know that this was incorrect, I just wasn't able to tell because of another stench from another story managed to overpower it.

Thankfully I got rid of the Wonder Buick.

Nobody that knew me back when I had that car ever forgot about Pop-Squish, but more importantly, they also rarely asked me for rides.

#tell it to Tuesday #story time #my post #pop-squish #wonder buick

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nationalbudgetmuffler · 2 years

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Spring Car Maintenance Checklist

Let’s face it. Maryland winters can be tough on your car. Extreme temperatures, snow, ice, muck, potholes – the list of hazards goes on. That’s why come springtime, it’s a good idea to give your vehicle some TLC, both inside and out. Some of these things you can do yourself, while others are a job for your local auto repair shop.

Let’s get started.

Exterior Car Maintenance

There are several things you can do to your car’s exterior to not only make it look better but protect it and make it safer.

1. Get Cleaning

If you’re like most of us, your vehicle looks pretty gross by the time spring rolls around. That’s why the first order of business come springtime is to give your car a good wash and detailing. This involves more than going to the local carwash.

You can do this at home, or a car wash, but it involves you more than a machine. Hose down the outside of the car, making sure to spray underneath the car and into the wheel wells. This will help wash away the salt and grime from winter. Wipe the tires and wheels down with an old rag or mitt.

Then, use car-washing soap and a wet sponge to wash your vehicle’s exterior from the top down. Dry the car thoroughly with soft towels, and then rub in some automotive wax with a soft cloth to protect the finish.

2. Check/Replace Your Windshield Wiper Blades

Your windshield wipers do a lot of work during the winter with all the rain, snow, and ice we get here in Maryland. And then you may just spray the wiper fluid and run the wipers to help clear salt spray off the windshield. If you’ve replaced the wiper blades within the last 6 months, you probably don’t need to replace them just yet. If they make a dragging noise going across the windshield or leave streaks, it’s probably time to replace them.

3. Clean Your Headlights/Replace the Bulbs

If you’ve had a hard time seeing at night, it may be that your headlights are dirty or hazy. Try cleaning them with a soft toothbrush and a baking soda and water mixture. Rinse carefully. This should brighten them. There are also products you can buy at auto parts stores. Consider repeating the process on your tail lights. This is also a good time to make sure all of the bulbs are working. If they’re not, replace the burnt-out bulbs.

4. Check the Tires

Spring is also an excellent time to check the tread on your tires. Go around and look at all four tires, and do the penny test. Place a penny in the tread. If the top of Lincoln’s head sticks out, you should schedule tire replacement. Take this time to check the tire pressure as well, and bump it up to the manufacturer’s recommendations.

Underinflated tires wear out faster and can reduce your gas mileage – and no one has the money for that!

Interior Car Maintenance

Now it’s time to move to the inside of your car.

5. Start Spring Cleaning

Now it’s time to clean out the interior of your car. If you’re a packrat, this may take a little longer. Get a bag for trash, one for recyclables, and a crate for stuff you want to put back in the car. Empty everything out of the car. Remove the floor mats, and shake them out. Then hose them down and use a gentle brush and gentle soap if there are stains. Let them dry in the sun.

Vacuum the whole interior, using the attachments to get into every nook and cranny. Wipe down the steering wheel, dashboard, doors, and windows with car-safe cleaning products. Leave the doors open to let the car air out. Once the mats are dry, vacuum them and put them back in the car. Put the stuff you need in the car back in.

Under the Hood Car Maintenance

So far, the spring maintenance checklist has involved things you can do yourself. Next, we move on to things best suited for your auto mechanic at your local auto repair shop.

6. Get an Oil Change and Oil Filter Change

You should get an oil change and oil filter change just about every 3 months or 3,000 miles. Motor oil lubricates your car’s engine and keeps it running smoothly. Older motor oil degrades and doesn’t do its job as it should. So stay on top of those oil changes, and your car will thank you!

7. Check all the Fluids

Spring is also a good time to check all the fluids. You can add wiper fluid pretty easily by yourself, but a mechanic is best suited to check and replenish the other fluids. These include:

· Power steering fluid

· Brake fluid

· Transmission fluid

· Antifreeze/coolant

If you notice puddles of fluid in your driveway or garage that you know are not water, you may have a leak. Make it a point to get that checked out.

8. Check Hoses and Belts

Another part of spring car maintenance is checking all of the hoses and belts. These can deteriorate over time and should be replaced before they break.

9. Get a Tune-up

Another car maintenance task is a tune-up. This includes checking and replacing the battery if needed, as well as checking your vehicle’s engine, powertrain, fuel, ignition, and emissions systems. Older cars should get a tune-up once a year, and spring is a great time to do that. Newer cars won’t need a tune-up every year.

Under the Vehicle Car Maintenance

And finally, we come to the undercarriage of your vehicle. This is also an area of expertise for your local auto repair shop, and they should:

10. Check the Brakes

Your rakes can get more of a workout in the winter, as you try to avoid icy spots or hitting other vehicles on a slick roadway. Have your auto mechanic check the brake system, including brake pads, rotors, and drums.

11. Check the Shocks and Struts

Rough roads and potholes that come with winter in Maryland can also cause trouble for your shocks and struts. This in turn can cause your vehicle to sway in turns, have the front end dive when braking, have the front or rear end sit lower than the other end.

This may all seem like a lot, but this car maintenance is all necessary to help keep your vehicle running at top performance. Not only does that make it more fun to drive, but it will make your tires last longer, your engine last longer, and give you better gas mileage.

In Maryland, since you only have to get your car inspected when you buy it or move into the state from out of state, you must make a habit of taking care of all of these car maintenance issues regularly. In other nearby states, such as Pennsylvania, car owners are required to get an annual inspection, they use the inspection as sort of their annual maintenance appointment.

RELATED READING

Common Auto Repairs and How to Budget for Them

Potholes and Wheel Alignment: What You Need to Know

Common Car Noises and What They Mean

Schedule Your Car Maintenance Appointment Today

Avoid costly auto repair bills by getting regular car maintenance. It will keep your vehicle on the road and running smoothly. Whether you drive a car, pickup, SUV, or minivan, we’ve got you covered. Make an appointment at our Bel Air or Joppa auto repair shop and we’ll take care of everything, all at competitive pricing. Call (410) 893-6792 in Bel Air and (410) 679-0091 in Joppa.

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anthelid-day · 4 years

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A holiday and birthday I’ll never forget.

We went to the coast to visit family despite warnings that we should reconsider our travel plans. There was a free highway with no fires in the area and, as it was Christmas and our families were on the coast, we found our way down the alternative and long route, meeting friends in Cooma along the way. The usual route was closed due to bushfires.

Christmas was a success and we were all having a great time! There was some smoke from the bushfires up north so we stayed inside but anticipated clearer weather to take the kids swimming for new year.

The night before New Year’s Eve, we noticed an orange glow in the sky and smoke. The RFS app showed a fire had started at Badja outside of Numeralla. It looked so far away at the time. We went to bed with the thought of swimming the next day. My birthday was on New Years Day. After we’d go for a swim we’d bake the cake and prepare the food and board games and get ready to do the tradition we do every year. We were to go outside, watch the new year end and the new year begin, start my birthday cheers and a dark male is to walk through the house before we re-enter. So when we went to bed, we imagined that that was going to be our New Years Eve.

The fire looked so far away.

I woke up at about 5am or 5:30am and looked at my phone. The RSF app told everyone in Cobargo and Coolagolite to evacuate towards Bermagui. We had my mums partner in Coolagolite and so I immediately called them to wake them and told them to get out of there. They raced right over to ours. I went to wake my mum to let her know what was happening. Just then a knock was heard on the door. I go outside to find a woman with a hose, she’s frantically waking everyone. “Cobargo is on fire right now. People are coming here. We might have to run next. We just need to wake everyone up.” I looked up to the sky and there was nothing but darkness with a deep, red glow. Burnt leaves and ash fell from its darkness. I open my RFS app to look and the fire had actually grown so much in a few short hours, it was practically at our doorstep.

A new notification comes in at that moment instructing Bermagui to evacuate to the beach. The Surf Life Saving Club was the evacuation centre so we decide to make our way there. We pack up the car and wake the kids. We tell our oldest that we are off to watch a sunrise and that worked well because skies are also shades of red and orange during a sunrise. We didn’t want to freak her out yet. Our son is a baby so his only concern was his bottle. We’d eventually have to tell our daughter the truth when the daylight doesn’t come after the sunrise but for now we had to get them out as calmly as possible.

The streets were lined with cars and people. Emergency vehicles passed by us occasionally. “Look at all the people here to view the last sunrise of the year!” I said. “Why are there nee-naws, mummy?” “Well even emergency services enjoy a sunrise!” I countered. She seemed happy with that answer.

We’d also come to the coast with our guinea pigs as we had no one to babysit them in Canberra at the time. So we were carrying a baby, our bags with the things we needed, a tired toddler, the toys she wanted to bring to view the sunrise with, blankets to keep warm (we had learned that it can actually get very cold when the smoke is so thick it blocks out the sun and it’s warmth like it’s midnight), food for the kids and a giant carry-cage with three guinea pigs. We checked ourselves in with the volunteers and then collapsed on some grass outside, still maintaining that we were “watching the sunrise”. When I told her the truth later, she calmly asked her questions and then went off to play with her new Barbie Ambulance. She dreams of being a doctor one day and the thing folds out into a doctors office. It’s a real hit.

Sitting on the lawn and trying to feed a baby who was suddenly aware that he was in a loud space, he cried while my daughter tried to calm him and my husband and I silently fretted, wondering if other family members were safe. My husbands grandparents live near Batemans Bay and the fires were escalating there. My mother sat in the grass with her partner at another location convinced things would be fine while I’d occasionally yelled at her via text to get up to the SLSC to check in. I just wanted to be sure that everyone could be accounted for. She’d tell me not to worry and we’d see each other later. It had begun to rain lots of ash and leaves so we took the kids, the guinea pigs and all of our stuff inside.

Finding and collapsing on a miraculously free couch inside the centre, my husband settles the kids while I go out to get some space. Crowds in these situations make me feel like I’m in a small space and I had to step out periodically to calm down. On one of my excursions out I took a video of the evacuation that’s blowing up on my TikTok and some photos that ended up being in a news article later that morning. People on TikTok who had family in the area wanted to know the situation and I’d spend the rest of the day informing them of what was going on. There’s something about being on the scene and letting people know the situation that makes me feel like I should have possibly been a reporter. So begins a moment of existential crisis before I notice I’ve got ash and burnt leaves in my hair and I head back in.

We remained at the centre until mid afternoon when we were told that those with residences and accommodation within the town were cleared to go home. We were relieved! So on New Years Eve, mid afternoon, we went home, settled the baby down for a nap and started planning the next day. The baking we could do while we wait this thing out. I plugged my phone in to charge and the power went out moments later. Baking was suddenly off the table.

The fires had knocked out the electricity. But we still had reception. I sat in the car to charge my phone there and was responding to comments to let people know the situation. The sky turned this incredibly dark red and then went black. It was about 5:15pm and we lost reception. That meant no internet as well. I go back into the house. “We have no power and no communications. We have no way to let those worrying about us in the outside world know that we are okay and we can’t check on those who we are worried about in Batemans Bay.” I said. The word at the time was that they may not be able to restore power until the weekend but they actually couldn’t for an entire week.

On top of that, the petrol stations were all closed and our tank didn’t have enough to get to a town an hour away that had no guarantee of petrol. The radio repeatedly told people to leave despite no guarantee of petrol and that wasn’t realistic for us. We were to stay put until the petrol stations open and do our best.

We sat in darkness with some torches, playing scrabble, watching the world outside get darker. The quiet was very unusual. There were no birds singing, no crickets or frogs and the town was closed off. No one could travel so there were no cars. There was nothing. Just silence with an apocalyptic view. When the smoke accumulated enough to create its own thunder storm, it felt like we were dropped right in the radioactive badlands of Fallout 4 with a more reddish hue. The blue skies and turquoise waters we paddleboarded on were a distant memory all of a sudden. It was freezing. Of course, I only packed summer clothes.

New Years Day arrived and my family was trying to celebrate my birthday the best we could but with such wide windows built for a view, the apocalyptic view outside and the reminder that a fire was by our doorstep drowned any feeling of joy. We were scared. I kept thinking about a week earlier, looking at the map and seeing nothing of concern and racing down to see our families. How could we stay away from our families for Christmas? But here we were a week later. There was a road briefly open to Tathra and it was nose-to-nose for hours. Cars slowly lined the main road as frightened tourists and residents fled with their things. Destination - Bega, Cooma, Canberra. And we stayed and watched with our nearly empty tank. “You wouldn’t want to be in that with a baby.” Mum said. She was right.

Our baby is bottle fed and so we’d make the trips up to the SLSC to get boiled water to make bottles with and for some coffee. I found a spot of reception and quickly let my friends know we were okay via Facebook before it dropped out again. They had been worried. Without communication, no one knew the full extent of the situation. Night time was hard because the baby wakes and the bottles had to be heated with whatever hot water was left in the hot water system and it barely warmed a bottle. We couldn’t shower or only jumped in for 30 seconds so we could save the hot water.

Without power we couldn’t cook and our fridge wasn’t going to refrigerate anything. We kept cool some milk the best we could and stocked up on canned goods. We ate baby corn and sardines, fruit and anything else we could get from the supermarket. The supermarket remained open with shelves that were emptying fast. It reminded me of abandoned supermarkets in Fallout. A lot of Fallout happening, I thought to myself. The staff worked while not knowing if their houses were still there. In a neighbouring town they had to close the supermarket as people began walking off with trolleys full of stuff and looting upon hearing that there was a problem with transaction processes. “People have got to eat” a friend later would say. People were trapped and scared with limited food to give their families. Things were bound to take a turn. Some days later the supermarket in Bermagui would be closed due to being understaffed as people fled or staff defending their homes. Thankfully the SLSC has donated food to give out.

The day after New Year we were all on edge. The smoke stayed thick, the kids were scared, the toddler hated being stuck inside and the baby was scared from the smell of smoke. Our throats and eyes hurt. Coffee was limited. My husband and I went to get some hot water when a neighbour said there’s a line at a petrol station. As we went past we saw the tanker. Oh my gosh there’s a tanker!! We got some hot water, I passed a bird in a cage, dropped the hot water off at home and raced to the line.

We were around the 100th car in line. My husband waited in the car while I went up to grab us coffee while we waited. I passed by the bird again. It had a note that it belonged to a Cobargo resident and the person who had dropped it off couldn’t find the owner and couldn’t fit it in her car so begged that someone feed it and give it water at the centre. It sat there with it’s cover and a box of its food, tweeting at anyone who passed it. I took the coffee back to the car and raced up to the centre a final time. I was going to evacuate with that bird. The volunteers didn’t really know how to look after it and, with everything going on, couldn’t have the time to give it what it needed.

A news station had found its way into Bermagui to show the line to the petrol station in their segment and had reported that the petrol was free. People began getting news that they had free petrol as those who overheard the report started to tell the line of cars. It wasn’t free though, and you had to pay in cash. Thankfully we did have cash on us, a rare thing for us. We wondered about those who had none, what they’d do if they were told they had free fuel only to find that they had to pay - and had no cash on them. I later corrected the news channel on my Twitter, disgusted at the irresponsible reporting.

It took 3 hours to get fuel while we waited for the generator to work at the station, then raced home to grab the kids, who mum was watching. There was a window of opportunity to escape and we were taking it. Mum took the opportunity too. She grabbed petrol before the pumps ran out and then fled to my brothers place in Bega. She’d stay there several days until she was allowed to go home.

Our drive home was slow. There were jams at several points and the smoke was so thick we had to close the aircon entirely. We watched as small fires still burnt so actively under trees and people cried outside the smouldering rubble that used to be their home. Animals sat in paddocks with burnt legs and we knew they’d likely be shot later. A lone alpaca sat on blackened paddocks and I hoped it wasn’t burnt, it’s fluffy face looking on to the distance as if it already knew its fate. Our baby cried for his bottle but they went cold in the traffic jams. There was nowhere to heat it until we met up with our friends in Cooma, the ones we met on the way down a week earlier. We fell through their doors looking worse for wear as they made us coffee and gifted us shortbread. We fed the kids and stretched our legs. We got home after 9 hours. My husbands family didn’t want us to worry and filled our shelves and cupboards with food and turned the aircon on to give the house clean air. We sat on our bed in an unchaotic house and wondered if we really did just go through all of that.

Mum was able to go home this past Wednesday and they switched the power back on. Mum was glad the place wasn’t looted as there were looters in the area. The fires brought out the best and the worst in people. While we were raising money and donating, others looted the cars of those who had already lost everything. When in Bega my mum, at one point, hid under a bridge with my brother for hours while it rained live embers. An old colleague of my brothers took them in until they could go back to my brothers place.

When we got back home to Canberra, I started the search for the birds owner and found her after a big community effort. She had gone to Melbourne for Christmas to see her daughter and her neighbour looked after the bird. The owner had lost everything. Her house and all her belongings and important documents. It would take a while to get back on her feet and so I’m watching her bird for her while she does so. I felt so sad to hear that she lost everything. What we went through was so small in comparison. We had a home to run away to and my mum got to go home to her house. But this bird and his owner have lost everything but each other and their dog. The bird gets along with our guinea pigs. They all chirp together while sitting inside waiting for the smoke in Canberra to die down. It’s really very cute.

It’s been very emotional. I have been crying at odd moments. We’ve seen a lot. This past week my husband and I have been struggling with how everything was supposed to be normal again. He’d go to work and I’d look after the kids and do my hobbies except it’s smokey outside and we have P2 masks on whenever we went out and the house is taped up to keep smoke out.

We are still processing a lot but I think typing it here helps in that process. Thank you if you read all of this. I will be resuming the bug photography soon. There’s no real conclusion yet and that’s because the fires rage on. There won’t be a real conclusion for a while yet. I guarantee it’ll remain devastating. We’ve lost lives and wildlife. We’ve lost treasured places and homes. Pets die from respiratory distress from being left outside. Stock are being put down from being injured in the fires. So we all cry from time to time while trying to do our best daily.

Much love,

Anthelid-Day

#nsw bushfires #bermagui #cobargo #evacuation #australia #australian bushfires #nsw #south coast #fires

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kitcarlklehmusa · 4 years

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kit carl klehm Tips On Organic Gardening For New Gardeners

kit carl klehm Professional tips provider. Organic gardening is not as easy as some may think! There is a lot more to it than just watering some seeds or digging around in the dirt. It is truly an art form. It has requires many techniques and products that require a green thumb as well as some hard work to achieve a great organic garden. Here are some tips to help you with your own:

To save on energy, cost, and resources, don't plant more of a crop in your garden than you are able to use. If you're not planning on selling your crops at a market, planting more than you can use will just end up wasting resources and space in your garden. If you have extra space, look into planting a variety of crops instead.

There's no need for chemical intervention if you discover powdery mildew on leaves. Mix a solution of baking soda, water, and a tiny bit of dishwashing liquid. Spray this solution on plants once weekly until the mildew is gone. This mixture will not hurt your plants and it will eliminate the mildew slowly but efficiently.

Don't try to remove low lying weeds by hand. Instead get a small shovel and flip them over so their leaves are under the dirt. You will kill the weed and the leaves will rot creating a fresh mulch like material for you to use. It is green and nourishing for the other plants.

When you're picking vegetables from your garden, choose to harvest them when they are at the peak of ripeness for the best flavor and the most nutrition. It is best to pick vegetables and fruits in the early morning, because they are still full of moisture and nutrients. With only a few exceptions, anything that you're not going to use right away can then be preserved by chilling in the refrigerator.

kit carl klehm Expert tips provider. To make a dull plant look greener, bury match heads near the plant's base. The primary reason for a plant looking dull or faded is sulfur deficiency. Putting match heads in the soil around the plant will allow the soil to absorb the sulfur and feed it back to the plant.

Roses can be difficult to grow in the best of conditions. Increase your chances for success by choosing the right rose for your climate. If your area has harsh winter conditions look for a rose with thicker petals. Mildew resistant varieties are ideal for humid areas and heat tolerant roses will do best in arid areas.

Choose certain plants for shady areas. All plants need light to survive, but not all of them require bright sunshine. Woodland natives, for example, are happiest when given a little protection from the sun's rays. Be generous when enriching the soil if the plants are under a canopy of trees, as they are competing for the food supply with the big guys! Ajuga, anemone, foxglove, cyclamen, hosta, viola and allium all enjoy a shady area.

Take care of your containers. You do not have to spend a lot of money on containers: you can reuse common items as pots. Make sure you clean your containers thoroughly and disinfect them to avoid diseases. Drill a few holes in the bottom so that the extra water can be drained.

Make mulch spreading easier with the right tools. After laying out the mulch, use a flat-headed rake to efficiently spread the manure around. The tines of the rake help pull the mulch and spread it, while the flat side of the rake evens out the area. Use the rake with a pushing and pulling motion.

kit carl klehm Qualified tips provider. Use mulch in your organic garden. Mulching helps retain moisture, and helps provide nutrients to your growing plants. You should try to use at least a three inch layer of mulch in all of your beds. It will also make your garden beds look as if they were professionally finished.

Marigold flowers are quite the powerhouse in an organic garden. As their flowers and leaves decay, the marigold releases chemicals that attract frogs, repel snakes and kill nematode pests that attack many vegetable plants, including tomatoes. Look for ways to let the bright yellow marigold bring brilliant color and decoration to your garden, as it goes to work to protect the health of your plants.

Consider building raised beds. If you build your own raised beds, you can choose the perfect size for your garden, and you can fill it with a type of soil that is suitable for what you intend to grow. Since there will be little soil compaction, there will be more oxygen in the soil, and water drainage will be much better. The soil in a raised bed warms up much earlier in the spring, increasing the growing season.

If your garden shed is far from your garden, try to carry your frequently used tools with you. This will save you time by helping you avoid making many trips to your shed to get tools. If you will need more tools than you can carry, you could consider using a wagon or a bucket to hold all of your tools.

kit carl klehm Skilled tips provider. Use a soaker hose to water your garden. A soaker hose allows the water to be absorbed directly in to the soil, rather than disbursed in to the air. This helps to conserve water, a valuable resource. Plant leaves also stay dry, which means you get to avoid pesky fungus problems.

To control weeds in your garden without using chemical herbicides around your organic plants, mulch between rows with bark, clean straw, mulch-covered newspapers, or sawdust from untreated wood. Beware of using anything to mulch or fertilize that might contain seeds that can add more weeds, such as grass clippings or fresh manure.

So, organic gardening is a lot more that dropping seeds in the ground. It takes skill and hard work outside. No doubt, you want to enjoy the fruits of your hard labor! Use the handy tips above to help you get the most out of gardening the natural way!

#United States | kit carl klehm | kit klehm | kit c klehm

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aj-artjunkyard · 5 years

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Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER FIVE

This is a post-ToA chapter! Takes place after Apollo regains his immortality.

I sighed. Strolling aimlessly through the halls of my palace on Olympus, I wondered if it had always been this unappealing. The gold trimmings seemed fake. The extravagant furniture felt uncomfortable. Even my bed was too big. Every shiny object played murder on my eyes, and every smooth surface was too warm to be refreshing. It just wasn’t homey. Not like the Waystation or Aeithales or either demigod camps. It felt more like a sized-up garage to keep a fancy car in.

I found myself yearning to be outdoors - no uncommon craving. Like my twin, most of my domains are set in the great outside world. I threw open the golden double doors of the balcony, closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh Olympian air. There was still something missing. Furrowing my eyebrows in frustration, I opened my eyes and glanced around for anything that might sate my dissatisfaction, when my sight landed on a certain figure making her way through the buzzing streets of Olympus and towards the entrance of my palace. I felt a natural smile creep onto my face. I would have to look for the missing thing later. Right now, I needed to be with my mother.

…

We had been in this comforting embrace for almost ten minutes now. I combed my fingers through Leto’s caramel hair while she sobbed into my shoulder, her frame shaking considerably. I felt the wet tears soaking through my jacket and dampening the shirt beneath. I pressed my lips against her forehead, hoping to make her content enough to talk to me. Eventually, she pulled away and reached up, running her fingers through my hair, almost to reassure herself that I was actually there. She looked deep into my eyes, while tears danced in her own. I took her hands in my own, and gently led her to a white sofa, which was far to big for the space of the room. It looked like whoever had put it there was just trying to cram as much unneeded furniture into one place as they could. Oh wait…that may have been me.

Leto sat down beside me. She sniffled a little, avoiding my eyes. She fiddled with the brooch on my toga. I held her hand. She squeezed it.

“Apollo…” she trailed off, seeming lost in her mind.

“I’m alright now Mother,” I said in an effort to soothe her. “I’m immortal again. I cannot die. I learnt a lot too. And I want to apologise for not being the most attentive of sons. I should visit you more, and I will! Really, father was right to-”

“-NO!”

I fell silent, shocked that my mother would ever scream in such a tone. She looked at me, and I noticed how tired she was. No doubt staying up to watch every second of my quests, worried sick that something might happen if she took her eyes off me. It would not be out of character for her to do such things.

“Your father was not right to punish you in such a cruel manner. To have you forced into servitude, with next to no natural means to protect yourself or others!”

“Honestly, Mother I-”

She held up a hand for quiet. I obeyed.

“I know you should not have done the things you did. I know you’ve learned. That does not warrant your father’s merciless behaviour. You kept getting hurt and I could do nothing, he said if he caught me in the act of helping, he would make it worse for you. He said there would be more deaths, more guilt. So I obliged. I made sure he didn’t catch me. I convinced Artemis to send her hunters. I persuaded Hermes to crash the sun, and Athena to lure you to the child-” she paused. “-Whom I have been caring for. He is named Cindeo - the one who escapes danger.”

I nodded. “I see you have been taking care of everyone.”

“That is indeed my sole purpose, yes. It distracted me, which Artemis says is a good thing. But still…I was watching. That day on the boat.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. I knew exactly what she would be referring to before she even said it. “You stabbed yourself.”

I drew in a sharp intake of breath, remembering the pain.

“I knew Medea would heal me.”

“You did it willingly.”

“It was only a distraction.”

“What was? Your life?”

“Caligula needed me alive more than my friends did.”

“They all needed you in the end, Apollo! I needed…I needed you.”

We sat, not talking. Just staring at each other, mentally comparing our broken pieces. I was willing to gather my pieces - make something new. I knew my mother wanted that as much as I did. We hugged again, this one lasting even longer. Neither party minded. Her caramel hair still smelt of honeysuckle, a trait inherited by my sister. She was still soft and warm and safe. After all these centuries, she had not changed. I was glad.

After an eternity, we separated. I examined my mother, my medical urges setting in.

“You look like you haven’t slept since I woke up in that dumpster. You need rest.”

She shook her head. “Apollo, you just got back. If you think I’m going to-”

“And I’ll be here when you wake up. Why don’t you use my bedroom? That way you won’t really be leaving. I’ll still be around, I promise. Even if you sleep as long as Gaea did.” She tried to protest, but I easily guided her to my sleeping quarters. By the time we arrived, Leto was practically using me as her only way of staying upright. I gently laid her down on my king-sized mattress, and she immediately melted into the warmth of the duvet.

I made my way to the kitchen, intent to taste ambrosia for the first time in months. A shape shimmered into existence on the blinding white counter. A freshly baked pie. Curious, I picked up the little note beside it, which read in perfect ancient greek calligraphy;

You deserve it! I love you!

-Leto

I chuckled and called down the hall, “Go to sleep!”

To which I received a muffled “I am, I am!”

I grabbed the pie and sniffed, enjoying my newly heightened senses. I could tell exactly what was in it. Ambrosia, sugar and chunky slices of…baked apple. The smell smacked me as violently as my realisation. My palace was golden, hard and shiny. It was devoid of life. Life like that of a particularly bossy half-blood. I decided to call in a discreet demigod quest.

…

“Soooo…about this quest.”

“Yes?”

“It was to help you plant stuff?”

I patted down the soil around a sweet-smelling Hyacinth. We sat in a huge garden positioned behind my palace. I had never fully understood why it was here. What was its purpose? Why would you look at some boring old trees when my palace was right at the end of the long, wide strip of grass, glowing golden and easily mistaken for a beautiful sunset in the evening? Once, I had even petitioned for the land to be flattened and used for a theatre (Dionysus and the muses backed me up, but Demeter, Poseidon and Artemis were strongly against it). But now, I smiled to myself as I began to see its importance.

“I don’t know what you find so complicated about this, Meg. I thought you liked gardening.”

My former master scrunched up her nose, pushing her cat-eye glasses further up her face. Her hands were caked with mud and the knees of her new leggings were already ruined. She had not wanted to change her dress, but when Percy mentioned to Mrs Jackson that she was still wearing the same borrowed garment from several months before, Sally had sent a package and insisted she change clothes every once in a while. Meg had donned the teal tunic and green leggings ever since. Such was the fashion sense of The Meg.

“Well, yeah. But I don’t think you’re allowed to call it a quest.”

“You were summoned to assist a god, were you not?”

“Duh.”

“So you are on a quest.”

“To plant flowers.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Meg shrugged. “Okay. But how do you plan to explain it to Zeu-” I cleared my throat loudly, glaring obviously at my reckless young friend. How many times did I have to tell her that names hold power? I definitely did not have a bullet-proof backup plan incase my father did find out, so I did not want to draw his attention and let him in on my little secret. That would not go well for anyone, trust me.

“How do you plan to explain it to your father?” Meg corrected. Satisfied with that adjustment, I turned my attention back to my Hyacinth.

“I’m not going to.”

“That’s a stupid plan.”

“I would have thought you’d know me better than to assume I have a real one.”

“That’s fair, you’re pretty dumb.”

“Hey!” I threw a clod of dirt at her, which hit her right in the centre of her forehead. We shared a look of mild amazement. I actually hit my target. It had been a while. I grinned with triumph, but it was soon smacked off my face as I got hit full whack with a dirt ball to the cheek. Then our eyes met in silent challenge. We both accepted.

It only took fifteen minutes for the massive garden to become an all-out war zone. There was no safe place. Dirt flew every direction, and we both took advantage of our own abilities - Meg using plants to trip me up or willing the dirt to fly with excruciating accuracy, and me, using beams of sunlight to reflect off Meg’s glasses and blind her, and when I found her charging at me, I flew over her head, just to be annoying.

When Meg shoved half a dozen handfuls of mud down my shirt, I decided to play dirty (well...dirtier). I conjured a hose, and watched with enormous enjoyment as Meg’s cocky grin melted into morphed into one of realisation and fear. I blasted her.

We chased each other around the grass, continuously soaking each other (Meg had used a plant pot as a bucket and filled it in a nearby pond) until the sky started to dim. It was early January, so it wasn’t too late, maybe six o’clock. Cold and exhausted, we made our way back towards my palace. My mother was waiting in the kitchen when we arrived, a new apple pie steaming on the dining table. She tutted at our wet cloths and sopping hair. With a wave of her dainty hand, Meg and I immediately dried.

“You let the other one go cold, dear,” Leto smiled, gesturing at the pie. Two golden-rimmed plates, complete with solid gold knives and forks which shimmered into existence beside it.

“Thank you Mother!” I said excitedly, kissing her on the cheek and sitting down at the table. Meg looked more wary. She eyed my mother suspiciously, while Leto smiled softly at her. Stepping closer to the table, perhaps under pressure, Meg inquired, “Is there ambrosia in it? I can’t eat much of that stuff.”

Leto laughed. “Yes, dear. But only traces. Only eat a slice or two, and you’ll be absolutely okay.”

I turned around in my chair and grinned over the backrest at them.

“Meg, it’s fine. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, would you, Mother?”

Leto looked horrified. “Of course not! Why would I damage such a harmless creature that’s so vital to the nutrition of other creatures?”

I gave Meg a look. “See?”

Meg seemed satisfied with that answer, but was still cautious in her approach to the table. But after no more than fifteen seconds, she was shovelling in mouthful after mouthful with incredible velocity, rapidly cleansing her plate of any crumbs. My Mother watched her with intrigue, and I could almost see the cogs turning in her head. While Meg helped herself to seconds, Leto quietly pulled me aside.

“When was the last time the child ate?” She whispered urgently, casting solicitous glances over at my young companion.

“It can’t have been long ago. Meg eats a lot,” I reassured. Her shoulders relaxed, her gaze softened. Leto looked thoughtfully back over at Meg.

“Does she have somewhere to stay?”

“I believe she intends to become a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood. She’ll be with her siblings and cousins there. Her family.”

“Mmm…”

“Mother?” Leto peered deep into my metallic gold irises. Then back looked at Meg. Then back at me. “What are you thinking?”

“If she is to remain at Camp Half-Blood, you will not be able to meet with her. I implore you, son. Look into the future. What possibilities do you see for her there?”

I concentrated, absorbing in every part of Meg’s being and taking into account every decision I’d ever seen her make. (Being a god, this was easy. Oh, how I enjoyed the wonders of a working memory!) I started off simple to ease myself back into prophecy, by predicting where her fork would land next. [She will miss the pie and stab the plate] Clank! My power proved to be working. I stretched myself a bit further, into next week. I saw her hold up a red flag in triumph. [She will win Capture The Flag for the Demeter, Hades, Dionysus and Apollo cabins] Yes, that seemed plausible.

Then I looked years ahead, in fast-forward. I laid every likely option and decision for Meg out on a metaphorical table in front of me and examined them all. Useless nonsense rushed past me as I sifted through the possibilities. [On May 23rd, she will eat meatloaf for dinner] [Exactly two weeks from now, she will push a son of Dionysus into the lake] [In three years, she will set Peaches loose on a rabid Manticore] None of these helped me. I searched for the correct timeline, the one where she stayed at Camp. I found it.

[She will miss Apollo] Fair, I would miss her too. [She will feel lonely] I will too, friend. [She will distance herself from anything to do with Apollo, including his children] Wait, no- [She no longer considers Apollo to be a friend] STOP!

My eyes flew open. My mother held onto my arm, steadying me. Meg had turned around in her chair, seeming concerned.

“You okay?”

I stumbled for an answer. Would she really dismiss me? Would I dismiss her? “Uh, yes. Yes, everything is fine.” Meg’s eyebrows scrunched behind her cat-eye glasses. The rhinestones caught the light, and shone brightly.

“You look sick,” she announced, with her usual Meggy bluntness.

“Thanks,” I grumbled. “Meg, it’s getting late. Perhaps I should send you back to Camp.”

Meg pouted. “Why can’t I stay?”

“You know why. Father can’t find out you’re here.”

Meg groaned. “Ugh. Okay. Just don’t forget about me or I’ll march right back to kick you in the kneecaps.”

I smiled. “I would not dream of it. See you soon.” I waved my hand and Meg evaporated in a shower of gold, and I felt her reappear safely at Half-Blood Hill.

My mother turned to me.

“Well?”

…

We sat on the cold stone steps of the amphitheatre, where I’d dazzled the demigods into minor depression with my Lydian and one-four-five Progressions so many moons ago.

It was late afternoon and the sun shone softly through the trees, scattering beams of light around the secluded area. I appeared similar to what I had a few days ago, only this time I had donned a more ‘modern’ look from my usual toga. I wore an ACDC t-shirt under an unzipped orange and white jacket. My jeans were worn pale at the knees and hems, which contrasted the bright red of my nike trainers. Only my hair was much the same - long, blond and flowing down to my shoulders.

Little sparks of light bounced cheerfully off of Meg’s rhinestones. She kicked a pebble down the steps, and watched in fascination as it skipped, making tic tic tic sounds all the way to the bottom. She was still wearing the same teal tunic and green leggings, her gardener’s belt hanging loosely around her waist. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she spoke.

“You said you wanted to ask me something?”

I nodded. “Yes, but I want to inform you that how you answer will not affect my view of you in the slightest. I will always admire you, whether you turn down my offer or not.”

“Offer?”

I laced my fingers, trying to think of the best way to word it.

“Following your recent quest,” (Meg snorted. I continued.) “I realised that I will not be able to see you as often as I would like. I will not be able to intervene on future quests, or protect you much beyond what my father allows. It will most likely be a long time before all the gods begin to treat the mortals as beings. I will also have to endure the endless mocking from my fellow gods, simply for changing my morals, and someone with mortal experience would be good to keep me straight. So, my offer to you, should you choose to accept it, is the offer of immortality. I would like you to live on Olympus, with me.” Meg’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. Seeing this, I rushed to hastily add to my unexpected statement. “Now, please know that this is not a one-time offer. You can say ‘No’ now, and come back later! Or not. Whatever you choose, I’ll always be looking out for you, okay?” Meg furrowed her eyebrows and blew out her cheeks in concentration. I watched her, not quite knowing if I should say more.

“Will I have to leave Camp forever? Will I be able to visit?”

“That’s the thing. You would only be allowed to visit if you have a specific purpose for coming, and you would have to make sure it’s iron-clad just in case Zeus confronts you about it. But I am working on finally getting those laws abolished. Hopefully, one day, you will be able to come simply because you want to. The catch is; I am not sure how long it will be until that happens.”

“So all my siblings might be dead.” I smiled sympathetically, feeling the chance of her accepting my offer sinking dramatically.

“Most likely.”

Meg gained her closed-off expression, her guards shooting up to prevent any and all emotional damage. I held my breath, waiting patiently for her to respond. It took a few minutes. Finally, Meg uttered at an almost indecipherable volume, “Can I think about it?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That was not a no. There was still time to convince her.

“Of course, dear Meg.”

Abruptly, Meg stood and sprinted back towards Cabin Four without another word. I had expected this, but it still threw me through a loop. I ran my fingers through my luscious blond hair, and inhaled deeply through my nose. While I was lost in my thoughts, a voice suddenly piped up and made me jump a foot in the air in surprise.

“Hey Dad!”

Gasping sharply and clutching my hand to my thumping heart, I turned to meet the speaker. My son, Austin Lake, stood before me holding a battered, grey-silver saxophone and smiling nervously. I gestured for him to come and sit with me. He complied.

“You here to see Meg?”

I wrapped my strong arm around him, and pulled him close to my side. “I was going to visit you kids too, but you ruined the surprise.” I punctuated my statement with noogie on Austin’s cornrows. He giggled and shuffled closer to me, absolutely failing at being inconspicuous. I didn’t mind. My kids and I are born to be obvious. Why hide something good?

I gestured to his beaten saxophone. “What happened there? The Ares kids?”

“Nah. I never found the one I lost in the labyrinth, so I had to take this old one from the back of Cabin Seven. I don’t think it’s been used since before that orientation film was made.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It sounds fine, but I wish it had I bit more…I don’t know…pizzazz? Flash?”

“A bit of shine is never amiss,” I agreed.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I tested it out on Miranda Gardener and Sherman Yang, and they did kiss when I played ‘Careless Whisper’, but it just doesn’t help the whole YouTube thing, y’know?”

“Of course. Sometimes people simply refuse to take you seriously unless you look the part. A frustrating yet universal part of showmanship - one that none of my children should have to deal with.” I waved my hand, and the old saxophone glowed, and began to fix it’s dents. The tired looking grey colour ebbed away and darkened, a black sheen taking it’s place. The keys and rods however, brightened until they shone gold. Soon Austin was holding a very classy jazz saxophone that matched his black woollen peacoat. I am extremely conscious of the instrument matching the style of the musician, hence why all my instruments include some form of precious metal or stone.

Austin’s brown eyes glittered with pure excitement.

“Thanks Dad! You’re the best!” He launched himself into me hugged me like he would never let go. I drew him closer to me, savouring every moment. I heard him mumble something unintelligible into my chest.

“What was that you said?” I asked. My boy tilted his head up slightly, so I could only see his eyes and above past the folds of my ACDC tee. He repeated himself a bit louder.

“Do you read all our messages? Like, the ones Chiron gets us to write to our godly parents?”

I chuckled, raised one hand for dramatic effect and recited:

“Hey dad! I’m Austin

Chiron said you like haikus

Poetry is cool”

“Nooooo….” Austin groaned. “I can’t write poetry for my life…”

“I think it’s great! You were only, what,” I counted on my fingers. “Seven at the time?”

“And already better than your dad!” An unknown voice rang out loudly from behind us, making us snap back from each other and whip around to face the impish figure. Hermes held up his hands in mock surrender, his signature stupid grin plastered on his face as he sauntered towards us. His dirty blond hair bobbed in its curls with every step he took. He nodded to Austin.

“‘Sup kid? Did anyone ever tell you about the time Apollo was obsessed with Limericks? Maybe you could compose one of those about your old man’s ‘awesomeness’,” (emphasising the ‘awesomeness’ with air quotes. Humph!) “and send it to me later, yeah? For mocking purposes only, of course.” Austin shifted uncomfortably, clearly not thrilled to have been interrupted from rare cool father/cool son bonding time. I knew how tricky Hermes could be, and I definitely did not want to put my son through the embarrassment of somehow signing off his mother’s inheritance to cattle farmers in Indonesia, so I took initiative.

“Austin, why don’t you go show off your new saxophone to your siblings? I promise I will come back to visit again soon.”

Hermes snorted. “Yeah, maybe don’t swear on the Styx though, bro. Dad wants to see you about some flower planting quest.” His grin spread like he had just cracked an atrocious pun, and was awaiting the groans of his audience. “He’s soooo mad.” I gave a reassuring smile down to my apprehensive son.

“Do not worry about me, child. Hermes is a known fibber. I’m sure he’s not that furious. It will be fine.”

...

It was not fine.

As soon as I entered my father’s personal throne room, I could tell. The enchanted ceiling was dark with storm clouds. The atmosphere was thick and heavy with static and tension. I felt a trickle of sweat run down my back.

My father sat on a proud marble throne, its veins of grey curling like smoke throughout the white stone. The king himself wore a smart navy suit, complete with a matching tie and a mid-length salt and pepper beard that overshadowed his mouth. His long hair was styled not unlike my own, except a lot darker and less flamboyant. He took the form of a man in his late 40’s, but could only be shown by the unfashionable wrinkles around his eyes. He was well built, and, despite my love for my eight-pack, far more muscular than I thought was attractive or necessary. He glared down his nose at me as I walked down the aisle of blue carpet towards his feet.

He must have been forty foot tall, which was big even for a god. I stood at a more natural twenty. I did not dare make myself bigger. I did not want my father to be under the impression that I wanted to intimidate him. I did not.

I bowed at my father’s feet and lowered my head, waiting for the word to stand up. It did not come. Instead my father spoke in his low growl:

“Apollo.”

I swallowed my anxieties and forced myself to look up into his eyes. They were not their usual electric blue, as so many of his offspring had inherited, but they had been clouded over with a thick, angry grey mist. His dark brows were furrowed in concentration. A permanent scowl was fixed on his features. I willed my voice not to squeak or crack.

“Yes, father?” Zeus’s scowl deepened.

“Do you think I am witless, boy?” He rumbled.

“I - no, father,” I stammered. Zeus leaned forward in his throne, glaring holes through my head.

“Do you think I am beneath you?”

“Wha - no!” My hands subconsciously gripped my jacket and fiddled furiously with the zip. I could feel my godly sweat making the cool metal slippery. The air around Zeus condensed into a dark haze. Lighting cackled like an entourage of jeering bullies, laughing at my panicked face and hopeless predicament.

“YET YOU STILL DISOBEY ME?” I took several deep breaths. I was a god. I had faced python, while mortal, and defeated him. I was still undoubtedly terrified, but I thought of Meg, of my children, of Perseus Jackson. They needed me to take this first step into defending the demigods. My face hardened. My voice was calm, quiet and deliberate, but hid a tsunami of fear.

“Name the law.” My father’s raised bolt faltered, reflecting his confusion.

“What?”

“Name the law,” I repeated. “Name the law I have broken by ordering a demigod, whom I know well and am sure is capable of being assigned a task, to go on a quest.”

Zeus gritted his teeth, and growled in his gritty voice; “I watched you play, boy. Do you think you are humorous? Do you think you can scorn my gift in such ways? I gave you immortality. I made you a god! Yet you run around like a hooligan, associating with these lesser beings, for what? Your twisted idea of justice? I am the god of justice, you insolent child. I have decided our laws, and I can make more laws if I so wish. Do not test me.”

“As I remember brother,” a feminine voice cut the thick tension of the room, “You need council approval to decree a new law. Am I correct?” Zeus scowled, but his anger visibly dissipated. He sat back in his chair as the dark clouds surrounding the throne lightened into grey wisps, like one might see on a dull autumn’s day. I did not dare turn my back to my father to see the speaker, though I knew the voice well - a voice older than Zeus’. I kept my kneeling position, hearing the footsteps of the graceful Olympian stride down the single strip of carpet, stopping just behind me. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. It pulled me up until I stood beside the tall, warm figure of Demeter, the goddess of agriculture.

She wore a simple, emerald-coloured dress that flowed down to her ankles, revealing a pair of bronze-coloured sandals. A thin, gossamer shawl of sage-like hue was wrapped around her shoulders and hung around her tanned arms. Her wavy blonde hair shared an alikeness to that of Sleeping Beauty’s. A ring of glittering corn stalks circled her brow. Her form was a few inches taller than my own. She kept her hand firm on my shoulder and glared defiantly up at Zeus with those striking green eyes.

“Margaret is my daughter. I invited her to Olympus to congratulate her on finishing her quest, as is customary. She and Apollo simply conversed over some flowers.” She looked down at me. “And I for one, am pleased that Apollo is finally making good use of that great space.” I smiled up at her, then glanced nervously at Zeus. His mighty hand stroked his beard in thought. At last, grumbled and said;

“Very well,” his deep voice echoed throughout the hall. “But be warned. Next time that mortal comes to this land with no believable reasoning, I will not be so merciful.”

“Of course, my lord.” Demeter and I both bowed in respect (well, more so ‘custom’ or ‘fear’ than respect, but whatever) and made our way out into the cheery sunlight, leaving the clammy throne room behind us.

We wandered down the streets in silence, watching all the minor deities, cloud nymphs and satyrs frolic and chat excitedly. I got a few gazes from a group of dryads, but thought nothing of it. Perhaps they had heard of what I did for the Palm Springs residents. Did dryads have some sort of mental link or Whatsapp text group? I imagined it would go like: “Hey gurrrll!!! ;D You see all this heatwave shiz??? Gone!!!! Apollo is #greatest” or something similar. After a few minutes, Demeter pulled me to a park bench that overlooked a large, shimmering lake. Ripples glided across the water. Every now and then, a tentacle rose above the surface and plunged back under, sending a spray of droplets to dampen anything in a metre radius. Some hippocampi splashed playfully around the shallows, some allowing a pod of Naiads to stroke their noses and fuss over how cute they were. We watched.

“You did well by my daughter, Apollo,” Demeter mused. She kept her eyes on the lake. No doubt, she was not comfortable congratulating her least favourite nephew, but I admired her determination to go through with it anyways. I may not have done the same. “I am surprised.”

I gave a short laugh. I was used to being mildly insulted. It did not phase nor offend me.

“Meg is truly an extraordinary demigod. You must be very proud.”

“I am.” A small smirk appeared on her otherwise neutral expression. “She is one of my best.”

“She could live here. You’d get to see her. I would too. I think a wild demigod energy such as hers is well needed around here.” The goddess of grain raised an eyebrow, and peered down at me from the corner of her eye. “I have offered her immortality,” I clarified. “She has not yet answered. I think if she accepts, you should be the one to grant her the immortality. Of course, I can do it myself, but I thought it may be more impactful for a mother.” She furrowed her brows, and her corn crown seemed to catch the light of the late afternoon sun, making her eyes hard to focus on.

“Zeus would not approve.”

“Zeus wouldn’t have a say,” I countered. Demeter only nodded her head ever so slightly, her face scrunched in concentration.

“Very well. I will accept if she accepts.”

…

Apollo was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Meg simply could not understand him. She lay belly down on one of the thick branches of the tree that supported the newly built Cabin Four like a panther reclining in the jungle, contemplating her idiot friend and his dumb offer. She sniffed, shifting her head on the uncomfortable bark. She liked Camp Half-Blood. The food was good, there was some people her age that she could beat in a fight - and older campers she could beat too - sword practice was fun. So was capture the flag. But Meg was alone, and maybe that was good. People crowded her on the first few days after the end of the quest, wanting details about the most dangerous parts. She had even been given a necklace with a single green bead on it that held a picture of a writhing serpent - Python, the monster she and Apollo had slain. Every now and again, an Apollo camper would ask questions about their dad, and she always made sure to give them less than flattering (but truthful) answers.

But that had worn off after a while. People left her alone, apart from Billie Ng and Miranda Gardener, who she was trying to teach how to summon a karpos (they were pretty bad at it). She hated that she missed her partner in crime. But if she left, she would miss her home, where she belonged.

‘Ughghhh” Meg groaned, sliding ungracefully off her branch and landing on the floor with a whump. She rolled onto her back and scowled at the unfairness of having to deal with feelings. Time passed. Eventually, she decided to make a call.

…

I didn’t scream. Nope, definitely not me, the cool and chill god of a-heck-load-of-things. No, I’m quite sure I stayed calm and collected at the sight of Meg McCaffrey appearing in a shimmering vapour form - in my shower.

Fine. I may have screamed. But you cannot blame me! It is one thing to take a shower with a ‘date’, and quite another to be peeked on by a twelve-year-old. I frantically made my best efforts to cover my perfect physique for the sake of the child, who immediately threw her hands over her eyes and made a ‘gross’ face. She wore a baggy Camp Half-Blood T-shirt over her usual dress, and a single bead hung by a thread on her neck.

“Meg, what the actual-” I hissed, cutting myself off. I took a deep breath and held my tongue to refrain myself from swearing in front of a kid (my mother would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t). “Why are you Iris Messaging me? Now, of all times?”

“I didn’t know you were in the shower, dummy.” Meg blew a raspberry, her vapour form producing a few bubbles in the process. “I didn’t think you had to wash since y’know,” she gestured at my tanned body. I covered myself a little more, even if she did still have her eyes shielded.

“I don’t. It’s just relaxing,” I grumbled, grabbing a towel, wrapping it around my waist and stepping out into the steamy bathroom. I kept the shower running so the Iris Message could continue, which involved getting the towel wet. I prayed the extra weight would not lead to any unexpected revealings.

“I’m not supposed to be taking to you, Meg.”

Meg uncovered her eyes and snorted. “Says who?”

“Says my father.” I felt my face darken. “He heard about your little quest. He told me you could not come here again with out ‘believable reason’.” I punctuated the last part with air quotes.

“I told you that you should’ve had a plan.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “I did have a plan! My plan was for him not to find out.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Shut up.” I could not resist the smirk that played on my lips. I wanted to be around my friend more often. She was one of the few who still talked to me as an equal (kind of). The other Olympians…let’s just say they didn’t exactly show me the same level of respect has they had once done, with the limited exceptions of Poseidon (who had been mortal once before) and Artemis (who had never respected me - its a sibling thing). “Listen, I cannot guarantee that my father isn’t keeping a close eye, so let’s make this quick. What did you want to tell me?”

Meg’s face lost its humour. I was afraid she’d back out and end the message. Instead, she spoke. “I thought about your offer.”

I felt my chest swell with hope. Maybe she’d say yes. Maybe she’d come up and be my friend for eternity. Maybe I would have one more person to talk to. “And?”

“No.”

My smile faltered. I felt all sense of excitement in me shatter in that moment as I struggled to put together a sentence. “Wh…what?”

She looked down at her rough, calloused hands. “I don’t want to be a god. I don’t want to live directly under Zeus’s thumb. I killed Nero. I killed him because he was awful and forced me to do stuff I didn’t want to do. He made me feel stupid and useless. I got rid of that.” She stared me directly in the eye. “I never want to feel like that again.”

The argument I’d prepared died in my throat. Could I really blame her? After all, she was right. My father didn’t even allow me to talk to my friend. Meg didn’t want to be oppressed like I was. She was free. That was a feeling I could never truly have. I’d given up on it long ago.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she mumbled back. “Bye.” Her figure disappeared, and I was left alone, standing in the all-too-quiet bathroom.

“Farewell.”

***

It had been several months since Meg had declined my offer. I still thought about her and my children every day. I searched for and aided a few of my less remembered offspring, guiding them to their respective camps. Thirteen-year-old Seamus, ten-year-old Anthony and two-year-old James made their way to Camp Jupiter. Nine-year-old Aiden, twelve-year-old Dwayne and six-year-old Marigold travelled to Camp Half-Blood. I had just ensured the safe arrival of Marigold, the curly blonde-haired excitable young demigod who seemed to have inherited my ability of Photokinesis, a rare and promising talent for my children to have. In other words, I was exhausted. So I teleported to the most calming place I could think of.

I collapsed down underneath the aged mountain laurel tree. It was located high up in a rocky, unforgiving mountain range, but overlooked the beautiful view of the other mountains, the lower halves shrouded in white mist. We often met here.

Beside me sat a young girl in a grey puffer coat and black leggings, her long dark hair tied back in a high ponytail. She was busy whittling on a long piece of wood, and so, did not look up at my arrival.

“Brother,” she greeted plainly.

“‘Sup?” I replied weakly, exhaustion filling my voice. I watched Artemis whittle for a while, my eyes half closed, the bow slowly taking its shape and the sound of the knife scraping evenly across the smooth surface calming me. “You making this for one of your hunters?”

“Yes. Being their leader has responsibilities, you know.”

I blew out my cheeks in exasperation. “At least you never have to go chasing down kids all over the world to drag to two camps in North America.” Artemis paused her whittling, and looked at me quizzically. “My son, Diego,” I clarified. “His mother is Spanish. He did not want to leave Madrid. But I finally convinced him after, what,” I tried to recall. “Three days? Ugh. Sometimes I just wish there were a few more camps around, ya know?”

The huntress had gone back to her work, her face contorted in concentration. “Mmm.”

“Are you even listening?”

“Uh huh.” I elbowed my beloved sister in the ribs, an effective attention-attracting tip I had learned over the course of my punishment; courtesy of Meg McCaffrey. Artemis glared daggers at me. “What?”

I beamed my most innocent smile. “You weren’t giving me enough attention, Artie.”

“Sod off.” She grunted. She will always deny it, but I saw a slight hint of a smirk seep through her annoyed facade. I grinned to myself as I decided to be as provocative as possible. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and snickered at her crabby expression and ancient greek curses as she tried to push me off.

There are many perks to being a sibling, dear reader, and annoying the younger sibling (or the one that appeared to be younger anyways) is most definitely in the top three. Along with the whole ‘If You Anger One Of Us You Deal With Both Of Us’ Ride-Or-Die attitude we can have (of course, this does not apply to every situation. See: the time Hermes pushed me into a very deep swamp, and all my dear sister did was laugh until she could no longer breathe).

Eventually, Artemis melted into the hug, leaning her young head against my chest. She took a deep breath and quietly said; “I am going to tell you something.”

I drew her a little closer, my embrace no longer meaning to provoke, but to comfort. I leant my cheek on her head.

“What’s up?”

“I am only telling if you do not get big-headed about it.”

“When have I ever done that?” I teased. “Honestly, I’m rather offended that you would even insinuate-” A small hand flew up past my face and grasped a lock of my beautiful, long hair - and yanked it downwards. “OW!” I rubbed my scalp and huffed down at my smug sister.

“You deserved that.”

“Uh huh,” I grumbled, unimpressed.

“What I was going to say was that I really did miss you, Ollie.”

“I missed you too. And I never got to say thanks. Y’know… for that time in Indianapolis. I couldn’t because the others were always around so… thanks.”

Artemis fiddled with a loose string on my sleeve. “Yeah, well. I had to pay you back for that time with Atlas and Luke…” she waved her hand, gesturing vaguely to the air. “So yeah. I guess I owed you one.”

Several years ago, my dear sister had taken the weight of the sky off a young maiden in an attempt to save her from being crushed. She succeeded, but at the cost of holding up the burdensome pillar of clouds for days without rest. By the time she made it back to Olympus, she was faint and required several days of rest (as ordered by her doctor; me). The topic was not often talked about. I wished everyone would have the same attitude over my embarrassing adventures. Still, I remembered mother and I being worried sick, and Zeus coming thundering through the door when he heard about her. We thought he was there to console or mourn, or maybe hatch plans on how to save her from the titan’s clutches. If you thought ‘What? That doesn’t sound like Zeus!’ then congratulations! You are learning. He told us that a demigod quest had been despatched, and if he were to find either of us interfering, he would rip out the ‘Number Ten’ lighting bolt. But not to worry, oh readers! He didn’t catch me.

Artemis shifted under my hold. We fell into a comfortable silence, and I found myself thinking about Meg again. Her tyrannical attitude, her odd fashion sense, her scent of baked apple. I could see every rhinestone in her cat-eye glasses. Every stitch in her well-worn dress. I got to thinking about how we would meet up again. A brilliant thought crossed my mind.

…

“Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“Relax, you big baby. It’ll be fine.”

*CRASH*

Meg blew a raspberry at the window she’d just obliterated.

“Well done,” I congratulated dryly. Meg kicked me in the shin, then readied another nerf bullet.

“I’m gonna miss if you keep distracting me!”

“Oh, was my mere presence distracting? I didn’t say anything!”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she aimed for the makeshift target we’d made and blu-tacked on the wooden wall. “I’ve got the gun and you’re being annoying.” I kept my mouth shut. The bullet was let loose with a twang. It went right through the hole where the window had once been. There were shouts from outside varying from “Get down, get down!” “Do not worry! I predict it to be no- six letters. Starts with ’T’” “Trench?” “Top-hat?” “That’s two words, Aloe.” “My bad.”

Of course, we were back at Aeithales. Palm Springs had welcomed us back with open arms. And I had my cover story set. I was here to personally check up on my Sibyl, as to not neglect my duties over prophecy, which was one of the reasons I’d been sent to Earth in the first place. I’d even gone to the extra trouble of making sure my dad was okay with it the day before. (“Because, you know, there may be some of my friends down there, cacti spirits and such, and I know you told me not to communicate with-” “APOLLO! IT’S TWO IN THE MORNING! GET OUT OF MY BEDROOM!”) So I figured I would be fine.

It was currently quite late, maybe eleven o’clock, and I had hung around all day. Just as Meg finally hit the target, I said;

“Perhaps I should get going. Do you want to spend the night here or go back to camp?” Meg sniffed.

“You don’t seem too bothered.”

“By what?” I asked. “Did I do something? Forgotten something? Today isn’t your birthday, is it?”

“No,” she stated bluntly, going back to aiming at the target.

“Care to elaborate?” I enquired cautiously. I did not want that nerf gun aimed the wrong way.

“You offered me immortality. I turned it down. You don’t seem upset.”

“My dear Meg. I simply respect your wishes, like I said I would.” I laced my hands together, trying to convey my feelings in an accurate way without bursting into a song that has all the feeling pre-written. “Your reasoning was sound, and while I do not fully understand your final decision, I trust your judgement. Besides, Percy Jackson turned it down too. So maybe it is not as valuable as I first thought.”

To my delight, Meg smiled. Albeit a small one. “Thanks. Do you think we’ll ever get to meet up? Without all the secrets and planning and stuff?”

I sighed. I really hoped so. “I do not know. One day, perhaps, my father will change his mind. I do not know when, or how. But I have hope that he will. As long as we keep working on him, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right!” I clapped my hands together like I had seen dads do in movies to symbolise the end of a touchy conversation. “Now off to bed or I’ll turn you into a traffic light.”

I closed the door as quietly as I could, careful not to waken the sleeping demigod. Her snores were muffled as I strolled through night, evaporating and reappearing in my palace. I wandered the golden hallways for a while, taking in every piece of decoration and furniture in a different light. The palace wasn’t cold and useless as I had first thought. It was dazzling and elegant and me. I had been under the impression that because I wanted to heighten my morals and personally intervene more often, it would require changing everything. But it didn’t. So what if I liked shiny stuff? I can have good taste and still be an awesome god! It simply wasn’t the problem. It was only what I had lacked that had bothered me. And, looking down to Palm Springs one last time, I knew I had found it.

This was kind of a one off! The next chapter will be back with mortal Apollo during the trials. i just wanted to try something different.

#writing #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #toa oneshot #lester papadopoulos #apollo #meg mccaffrey #trials of apollo #toa #zeus #hermes #Austin lake #demeter #leto #artemis #olympus #olympians

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