#1. my employer is about to tell me she is quitting the show

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

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[wambsgansshoelaces]

Turmoil; Chapter 1

Roman Roy x fem!Reader -read the rest here!

Prompt: slowburn romantic drama, arranged marriage plot line

a/n: thank you to anon for requesting! if you requested this fic, please tell me so I can tag you! I apologize if this reads as unrealistic or too dramatic- but please let me know your thoughts!

Word Count: 2.358k

Nothing. You’d turned yourself into something from nothing.

You’d ended up in New York on your own, running from your past, vying for a fresh start. With a degree from Harvard law in your pocket and an unsatiated hunger for success, it only took one case to change your fortune.

Your boss had pawned the case off on you because it seemed impossible. A man charged for real property fraud, and heaps of evidence to prove it. You initially thought you’d pawn the case off to some other schmuck, until you’d been given an anonymous tip and found a discrepancy in a bit of evidence that unraveled the opposition’s entire case.

It was a massive win- not just for you, but for your entire firm -and it came with a massive raise.

A few years later, you’d amassed an egregious amount of money in total and even more respect from those around you, so you quit and founded your own firm. You’re thankful for everything you have. You stay humble, you’re likable, and you make sure everyone in your employment is as well. It keeps you afloat- New York loves you, but more importantly, they trust you.

It earns you millions.

You’re happy with the life you lead. You frequent charity events, donating whenever you can, staying kind. You know what kindness can feel like during a period of misery. You remember what relief felt like when extended a hand, so you extend yours whenever you can.

You help the people around you. You’re kind to everyone, conduct yourself with grace, and are aware of yourself and those around you.

Maybe that’s why Logan Roy chose you.

He’d written to you a week ago, inviting you to dinner to discuss business prospects. You assume he’s gotten himself into a legal pickle involving some of his questionable activity which some regard as criminal.

When you enter the restaurant, one of his men spawn at your side and lead you into the dimly lit back where nobody is sitting. Your heels click on the marble, your gait not wavering.

“Mr. Roy,” you say when you see him. He gets up, albeit very slowly, and shakes your hand.

“Y/L/N in the flesh.” He sits back down and gestures to the seat across from him. You oblige. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself.”

“I do my best.”

He beckons over a passing waiter. “Get her whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.”

You quietly order a small appetizer and watch him watch you.

“Well, Mr. Roy, I hate beating around the bush. Why am I here?”

“The first case you worked on. Do you remember that man’s name? The one you proved innocent?”

“Connor Frost. I don’t forget. Never showed his face once.”

“About him. For witness protection and press reasons, we were allowed to alter his name in the official papers. We also got away with him never being there.”

Your heart misses a beat.

“Connor Roy was on trial for real property fraud, and you proved him innocent,” he continues. You school your face into neutrality. You get a sick feeling in your stomach that won’t stop growing and gnawing at you. It threatens to eat you inside out. “I hate to burst your bubble, but he was guilty. Fucking stupid, it was.”

You blink. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but-”

Logan’s eyes never leave yours. “But nothing. The deed you found in Connor’s name? Forged. And the people who forged it were paid more than enough to never think of speaking about it in court. You couldn’t have known it was fake, so you took it to trial and won. I practically bankrolled that raise of yours.” You can feel yourself begin to itch. “Initially, there was never any need to tell you. If I had things my way, I’d have let you live your life doing whatever the fuck you wanted. But my son had other plans.” As if he didn’t just reveal that your first case was a joke, he offers you some wine. You quickly decline. You feel like you’re going to puke all over him.

“Kendall. You know Kendall.” His voice drips with venom. “Would’ve given everything to him, but he obviously has different ideas for the company. I can’t let him take it now. He’ll fuck up everything I’ve worked for and put into place at Waystar. And I’m not giving the company to the idiot who accidentally committed fraud to the point of felony, or the one who’s running around the world with her dumb fucking political bullshit. That leaves me with one son. So the company has to go to him.”

Logan tops off his glass of wine. “But, by God’s grace, this leftover son is the fucking stupidest of them all.”

You have no idea how this has anything to do with you.

“Let me be clear, Miss Y/L/N. I respect you. You’re a fantastic attorney. I’d have you on retainer- I will, once my current contract with that Frederica jackass runs out. But you must forgive me for all of this. I have to do what needs to be done.”

He inhales, then sighs. “For you to take control without me losing public face, I want you and my son to come to an agreement in a partnership.”

You have to give him the dumbest fucking look for him to respond with, “Marry him. I need you to marry him.”

“I’m sorry?” You can barely keep your composure. You think you’re dreaming, or someone spiked your water, or you’re dead, or anything but this.

“I can’t have him in control. I can pretend like he is, sure, but I need someone with a brain at the helm.”

“I… my degree is in criminal law. I have no idea how the corporate, let alone financial world runs.” It’s all you can think of to say.

He waves you off. “You’ll learn.”

You don’t know what to say. You probably look like a fish, mouth hung open as you gape at him. “Surely someone else is better suited to this than me. I won’t. I can’t.”

“This is why I had to apologize,” he mutters. “Do as I say, and our secret is kept. Walk away, the tabloids will learn of a little lady who buried and forged evidence to win her first court case.”

“You can’t be serious. I thought it was real!”

“The public doesn’t know that. Regardless, I’ve done worse. I’ve ruined stronger, more powerful people with much less.”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I suppose you’ve left me with no choice,” you grit out.

Logan smiles and claps his hands together. “Welcome to the family.” Your appetizer finally comes and is set in front of you. You don’t feel that hungry anymore. “What are you waiting for? Eat!”

He takes a bit of calamari from you. “I think it goes without saying,” he says, “that if you say anything about this conversation we’ve had, you’ll end up prosecuted and in jail for fraud.”

☾𖤓

You feel like you could punch a hole into the wall. You can’t believe it. It’s pure dumb fucking luck that you got caught in this.

Logan Roy didn’t choose you for your legal prowess, or any of your skill or ability like you’d stupidly believed. He chose you because he has control over you, and he knows it.

A few days pass, and you begrudgingly drag yourself out of your rotting place in bed. Cursing yourself the entire time, you change into something nice. Logan told you he was throwing a party in your name, to introduce you to the family- and the inner circle, you knew.

If anything, you think to yourself, you look fucking good.

You’re not prepared for the onslaught of paparazzi that bombards you the moment you step out of the house.

That bastard must’ve told the press about your engagement.

There’s nothing you can do but get into the black sedan waiting for you at the bottom of your driveway. You’re probably going to have to move, now.

You sit in the backseat, simmering the entire drive. You have to prepare yourself for the hell that’ll be stiff arming paparazzi to get to the party.

When you pull up, you take a deep breath, and step out the car. The man sitting in the passenger seat got out before you and walks out in front of you, another flanking you as you push through the chaos.

The flashes are almost blinding, but you keep your eyes open. Every picture taken tonight is going to be circulated tenfold by not even tomorrow morning. You hope you have resting bitch face in all of them.

Your miniature guard manages to get you inside with no issues. You’re late on purpose, and it seems like the room goes quiet when you enter.

The crowd stares back at you as you survey them. As much as your rage is telling you to make a scene, you won’t. Time and place, you tell yourself.

Immediately, you can tell Connor recognizes you. He tries to avoid your gaze, but your rage bubbles up and out of you. “Mind if I steal him for chat?” you ask the girl standing with him, voice painfully faux-sweet. You feel like you’re on Love Island, in some sick, twisted way.

The girl gives Connor an awkward pat on the arm before leaving him be. You can feel peoples’ eyes burning into the back of your head.

“You told me,” you begin, voice dangerously low, “that you didn’t do it.”

He looks everywhere but at you. “I was just doing what I had to.”

“Was fucking me over what you had to do? Because I feel like that’s all you did,” you hiss.

“Do you really think someone like me is going to ever go to jail?” Connor scoffs. “It could damage my reputation.”

“It could damage my reputation,” you mock. “Are you fucking stupid? Fucking God.”

You turn to leave, but immediately pivot back. “You’re a Roy. You would’ve been bailed out immediately. You wouldn’t have even gone to jail for an hour.”

You’re fuming. You’re barely holding it together.

Then, you catch the eyes of a man not that much taller than you, dressed in all crisp black. He’s handsome, you think, a light stubble dotting his jaw and soft eyes that wrinkle gently when he smiles.

He excuses himself from the conversation he’s having to come to you and Connor.

“Connor. You’ve met my lovely bride-to-be?”

You’re back to fuming, any thoughts of his beauty gone.

He sticks his hand out to you. “Roman Roy. Nice to meet you, I’m your fiancé.” His voice is painfully bitter.

“You think I want this any more than you do?” you ask under your breath, your handshake way too firm. His grip on your hand is equally as tight.

Connor snorts. “At least act like you like each other.”

“You’re the reason any of this happened. Keep yourself out of it,” you snap.

Roman sighs and turns away from Connor. “Can we go for a walk? We should probably have a word.” To your dismay, you agree.

As soon as you’re out of the main atrium and by yourselves in a grand hallway, you speak freely. “Listen, this is nothing personal,” you begin, “but I’m looking for a way out of this.”

Roman looks over at you as you walk, both of you going at a snail’s pace. “I don’t stink, do I?” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you. I know he’s blackmailing you.”

You sigh. “I should’ve known something was wrong with the case when I never saw my fucking client in person.”

“Well, I want this over as quickly as you do. My father doesn’t want me anywhere near the company, and I’d like to change that.” You both stop walking to face each other. Maybe you two can be friends, despite everything.

“Let me make something clear, though.” Roman takes a step towards you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I’m only in this for me. Not you.”

Whatever positive thoughts you’d had were chased away. You spend the rest of the night fuming under your skin, lying through your teeth, and standing by yourself in the corner.

Siobhan Roy is the first to approach you.

“I admire you, you know.”

“Your father said that too, and look where I am now.”

She presses a flute of champagne into your hand. “I’m not my father.” You share a tense look. “Listen. I think we can do something good together,” she says lowly. “You want to disentangle yourself from this situation, and I want my father out of the picture when it comes to Waystar. Some of my clients have used your firm during political scandal. They all came away unscathed… I have full trust in your ability.”

“What do you want from me?”

“When the time comes,” Siobhan says, “I want you to help take my father to court. And put him down under. So to speak,” she adds. “And I’ll help make sure that if my father ever says anything about you, nobody believes it.”

After Siobhan, it’s Kendall.

“Shiv talked to you.” He’s worse at keeping conversation than she is. “I would also be involved in this. I’d take my dad’s place as CEO, Roman becomes COO.”

“I take him to court, I’m told.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you do, and you win,” he says carefully. “And then you get so much money you can run away to some foreign country and forget any of this happened.”

You regard him carefully. “How can I trust you? Or Siobhan? Or anyone in this fucking place?”

Kendall pauses, and takes a moment to think. “You can’t,” is all he says before leaving you standing on your own once again.

Finally, Roman makes his way back to you. You bristle as you watch him approach. “I know you don’t really like me right now, but I want to go home and I can’t leave without you on my arm. So, shall we?”

You roll your eyes, but take his elbow anyway.

[gamesception]

Sception Reads Cass Cain #21

Ghost / Batgirl #1-4 Words: Mike Kennedy Pictures: Ryan Benjamin Additional Work: Randy Emberlin, Howard Shun

One impression I used to have that going back to look at ~all~ of Cass's early appearances has forced me to reconsider is the idea that she didn't appear outside of her own books very much. While later on that is more the case, early on she does have a fair few guest appearances and cross overs, including in this bit of non-canon dual publisher cross promotion with Elisa Cameron, aka Ghost, a Dark Horse character with a solo that had been running since 1995.

The miniseries pits long time Batman villain Harvey Dent against brand new Ghost antagonist Malcolm Greymater - a (fictional) confederate general turned zombie libertarian corpse reanimator - in a conflict over Greymater poaching some of Dent's employees (ie reanimating goons that Dent killed). Babs, Cass, and Elisa get caught in the middle and are forced to work together after following separate threads of a bombing by Two Face and bodies stolen by Greymater only to be sold off into unsavory employment after failed reanimation experiments.

I don't want to go through the whole thing with a plot summary - it's four issues of non-canon stuff after all. But as a stand alone story it works fairly well, worth a read if you're a fan of early Cass. In particular there's solid characterization of Harvey Dent and what it's like to work for him - pretty bad actually. You can see why he'd get upset at someone trying to poach his guys, working conditions for goons in Gotham are terrible, if word got around of better conditions in Arcadia (Ghost's hometown) or wherever else then Batman's villains could easily find themselves suffering a labor shortage. The mere idea of that is funny enough to me that I can't help but like this little mini series, and it's an idea I'd love to see brought back. Goons On Strike - now there's a solid idea for an ongoing Gotham event crossover.

Anyway, Ghost/Batgirl is definitely a higher fantasy story than we usually see from Cass, at least back in the early days, but there's a focus on the individual lives and humanity of the underlings working for the villains that's very grounded and down to earth. That fits in really well next to the "street level" focus of Cass's early solo title. As for the book's cross-promotional function, it does make me curious about Ghost, though probably not enough so to go back and look at her solo title. I like her villain here, but Malcolm Greymater and his crew seem to be more or less exclusive to this crossover? Comicvine is telling me he maybe appears in a single issue outside of this, so that's kind of disappointing.

So setting aside the story, how's our girl in this? Well, first of all, she's being drawn by new hands. In costume she's mostly fine.

Sleek and spooky, glossy black. The details of her form are sometimes lost in the darkness, which loses some specificity in the action panels, but in a way that mostly works aesthetically. My only real complaint here is that her facial expression doesn't really show through the mask. You don't get a sense of what she's thinking or feeling in costume, she's just this dark angry spooky form, not so much a person or a character. As I've said in the past, though, that's as much or more a criticism of her costume design as it is of how any particular artist draws her in it.

It's also worth noting that, as with Cass's early pairing with Azrael, her costume contrasts very nicely with Ghost's. White with round hood and billowing cape vs. Cass all black and pointy. Aesthetically it's a great fit.

Out of costume, though...

I don't know. Just doesn't quite look like Cass to me? I know, I know, comic character facial features don't have the same specific canon as their costumes do, different artists have different styles so characters will look different, and there's definitely a stylistic element here that isn't gelling with me. The overall shape of the head is too thin, maybe, making her look a bit older than she should, where I'm used to Scott's more rounded face, stronger jaw, bushier eyebrows, shorter, poofier hair.

Scott's style, at least at the time, also just packs in more emotional expression, which is absolutely critical for a silent protagonist.

By contrast Benjamin's Cass, when she's not in costume, is often just standing a bit behind Babs with a sort of blank, neutral expression while Babs interacts with other characters or the audience for her.

...

Which also kind of brings us to the writing for Cass here. Ghost / Batgirl is probably the best example yet that silent Cass was a mistake, because yeah, the creators of this book just do not know how to convey her character to the reader without words. The first image starts with Cass looking out over the wreckage of a bombing, and of course there's pseudo noir internal monologue all over it, because how else do you start a bat-book, only Cass can't narrate so Babs provides the narration even though she isn't even in that scene.

Babs goes along on the adventure mostly so the writers have someone who can talk for Cass, or even in some panels quite literally talk over Cass.

Cass is an intimidating physical presence in costume, but in this book she functions more as an extension of Babs than as a person in her own right.

...

It's not all bad, though. In particular there's this one bit introducing an additional ability for Cass that makes perfect sense with her backstory and yet sadly I don't think is ever mentioned again in a canon Batgirl story:

Cass gets poisoned, but she survives, and recovers remarkably quickly, because she has a natural resistance to many poisons and venoms built up from repeat exposure to tiny amounts when she was a child, because of course that's something David would do. You could just imagine little Cass and David having drinking contests to see who could take the most poison before passing out, or even sneakily poisoning each other as a little game of escalating pranks.

...

So yeah, overall a nice little stand alone series with maybe not the best depiction of Cass, but one that is illustrative of why the major change to have her start speaking, while I still don't like how it was done, was probably for the best.

[nifolution]

I Quit 2

Warnings: The Thrombeys being themselves, recreational drug use

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

The first two weeks of Y/N's employment went smoothly. Harlan did indeed have a taste for sweets. The rest of his palate she worked at learning, but he seemed happy with her efforts. When he didn't care for a dish, he would let her know and she gladly made him something else. Funny enough, the man would ask for tomato and mayo sandwiches, with just a touch of salt and pepper. Such simple requests from such an interesting man.

It was finally the day she was dreading, her first Sunday family dinner with the Thrombey clan. Fran had gossiped about the family with her while she began preparations. She explained who everyone was, their quirks, and entitlements. She had an asshole rating system that Y/N found amusing.

Fran found most of the family intolerable, except Harlan of course. “The top asshole, a number 10, has to be Harlan's grandson, Ransom. But don't call him that, ever. He makes the help call him by his first name, Hugh. He's handsome, for sure, but don't let his face fool you. He is a massive jerk and will charm you, use you up and spit you out like that.” She snapped her fingers and huffed.

“Luckily, he doesn't come to many of these dinners. Not that the rest of them are any easier to deal with. Seriously, they should have their own reality show so the world can see them snarl at each other like a pack of rabid hyenas. I suggest you steer clear of them when you can. These nights can get ROUGH.”

“Duly noted.”

Fran smiled before leaving to set the table. “Good luck tonight. And if you need a little mood stabilizer at the end of the insanity, just let me know. I got you girl.”

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

Y/N's anxiety increased with every new voice that echoed through the large home. She couldn't hear much of the conversations, but was confident Fran would fill her in if she missed anything juicy. So she continued cooking in peace.

Speak of the devil, the brunette rushed into the kitchen, “Top asshole and Harlan’s mother are m.i.a., but the rest are seated. Tell me the app is ready?” Fran already looked so done with the night.

”Right over there. Description card included.”

“Thank youuuu.” She took the appetizers to deliver to the table.

The family was just as she left them. Sitting proper with fake smiles plastered on their faces, while practically seething at one another.  Fran served the table with an equally forced grin.

Richard scoffed at the bowl. “What the hell is this?”

“Richard!” Linda chastised her husband.

Fran swiftly read from the card, “A roasted butternut and apple soup with ginger and coconut milk.”

Linda took a tentative sip and her eyebrows rose. “I see Rosalee has improved.”

Donna followed her lead, also approving of the soup and the improved quality.

Harlan spoke up, “I'm afraid Rosalee has retired. I've hired someone new.” He sent Fran to ask his new chef to come out, greet his family and serve dinner.

Y/N pushed the cart out to the dining area. Feeling like she was walking into shark infested waters wearing a wounded seal suit. All eyes were on her as she entered. Harlan introduced her and asked what she had prepared for them.

“I have for you a herb crusted crown roast of pork with a side of carrots and parsnips in citrus butter.”

“Um, excuse me, hi.” Joni raised her hand, pointing to the offending entrée. “We can't eat that. My Meg and I are vegan. Do you expect me and my daughter to just munch on carrots all night?”

Y/N nodded, “I have been informed of your dietary restrictions and made you both something separate.“ She placed the extra meal in front of them. ”Quinoa cakes with a tomato-zucchini and chickpea relish, drizzled with a balsamic glaze. But if you would like the citrus carrots on the side I can get that for you as well.”

“Dietary restrictions, my ass. It's not a restriction, it's a mental illness.” Walt began to rant, “You know how you can spot a vegan? Don't worry, they'll tell you. They'll never shut up about it. Those douchebags think they're better than everyone else. They look down on us meat eaters, keep trying to convert us. Well let me tell you, eating meat is my God given right. My right! Don't you realize you can't live without meat. Your brain will die. That's why you are all so miserable, you're slowly dying.”

Donna rubbed her husband's shoulder in approval. While Richard raised his glass in salute to Walt's bullshit. Linda pursed her lips, ignoring them and trying to have a chat with her father.

Joni was on the defense, “We are the healthiest we've ever been. It's good for the planet, the environment, which benefits everyone, need I remind you.” She ignored her brother-in-law's snickering. “Let's be real, veganism is the answer to this world's problems. It is. It's the only moral choice. It clears up your skin and makes you feel good inside and out. And we don't have to feel guilty about contributing to the exploitation and slaughter of innocent lives. Animals are just like us.”

“Just like us?” Walt interjected. “Oh really, should we have dad's dogs sitting at the table with us? I tell ya, if Meg was a boy, I'd be calling DCF because you'd be depriving him of nutrients he needs to grow strong and polluting his male DNA with soy.”

“You're the one with blood on your hands, Walt. All those poor cute animals you've killed….”

Richard scoffed, “You've only been,” he raised his fingers in air quotes, “vegan for a damn month.”

“Ya well, I saw the truth and I'm changing. You'll see it too or die with all those animal products clogging your arteries... Plus it's been two months. Thank you very much.”

“I will happily eat my steak and drink my milkshakes all the way to my grave.”

Joni rolled her eyes, “Uck, you are completely hopeless.”

Walt raised his hand to silence any reply from Richard. “Don't bother. It's not worth fueling her delusions.”

That seemed to put an end to that argument. The rest of the meal went well. Although out of the whole family, only Harland and Meg said 'thank you.' Not even the young boy spoke up. For being so rich and fancy, they certainly lacked manners.

Dessert was served without incident. Tiramisu and a mini vegan version for Joni and Meg. Harlan seemed to be in heaven, commenting on how rich and decadent it was.

After dinner was over, Y/N and Fran began clearing the table. Linda poked her head in, “Y/N, may I have a word with you?”

“Was there something wrong with your meal?”

“Oh no, no, dinner was lovely. However, I wanted to make sure you weren't making desserts like that for my dad all the time. He's getting up there in years and has to watch his cholesterol, his sugar intake, blood pressure, things of that nature. He can't be consuming food like you made tonight. He needs to eat healthier. I'd like to keep him around for a long time. I'm sure you can understand.”

“I fully understand, ma'am, but there is no need for concern. The food was chosen because this was a special occasion. It doesn't reflect his daily meals.” Y/N noticed Harlan a few feet behind his daughter. He winked at her before alerting her of his presence.

Linda clapped her hands, “Delightful. I'm so glad we have an understanding. I will make you a list of approved meals.” She smiled at her father before walking away.

Once Linda was out of earshot, Harlan leaned close to Y/N, “I'm not eating that pigeon food. You put her little list up on the message board in the kitchen and ignore it.”

Y/N thought she was safe. The family was dispersing out into the night. She turned on some music and began washing the dishes. Her hips swaying to the beat.

Joni snuck up behind her. “Oh I love this song.” She attempted to dance alongside Y/N, bumping their hips together. “Don't be shy. I could tell you recognize me. I get it allll the time now. You're correct, it's me. Owner, CEO, COO and CFO of FLAM.” She continued boasting about being a top influencer and her skin care products while Y/N stood there like a deer in the headlights.

An unwelcomed hand reached out to stroke her cheek, “Your skin looks so parched. You could really use a hydrating serum. My company offers the perfect product to help. It's an all organic algae blend that feels like the ocean on your face. So refreshing. And there's a vitamin C serum that will bring some life back to your overworked face.”

“Well let me tell you, FLAM is trending right now, it's going to be huge. You go ahead and follow me on twitter or instagram. I'm offering my first 100 followers a 15% off coupon. That will be available once I find the right graphic designer for my website. Those I interviewed so far just couldn't grasp my vision. This is a lifestyle I'm promoting. I have to trust they get my brand, ya know. But hold onto that coupon, it will be honored. So lovely to meet you, Evelyn.”

“Y/N,” she corrected.

“Sure.” Joni made her exit, blowing a kiss.

Fran entered and passed over the joint in her fingers. “It's like the fucking twilight zone isn't it.”

“You weren't kidding.”

The Thrombeys were the most insincere backstabbing piece of crap family she had the displeasure of meeting thus far. She wondered if any of them loved or were loyal to anything but money. Doubtful. Thank goodness she didn’t have to encounter them often. 

These people are something else. I'm going to need therapy if I stay here too long. 

Chapter 3

[blacklister214]

Mr. Nash Is Growing On Me

SEASON 2 Finale Spoilers!

UNPOPULAR OPINION ALERT:

There are many things I like about William, but his male ego is getting on my nerves. When Eliza proposes William come work for her, I’ll admit it was ill advised. His personality would no more allow him to be subservient than hers would. However for him to fly off the handle about how degrading it would be was WAY too far. 

It is her business, she has proven herself at least his investigative equal in a world that always tilts in his favor as a male and a police officer. Additionally accusing her of making the offer to further her ambitions was disgusting. He should know her well enough to realize this is her clumsy way of trying to keep him in her life. It is especially not a good look in an episode with Mr. Nash.

I know the name of the show. I know if anyone is ending up together it is William and Eliza. I know they need to keep the “will they/won’t they” tension. HOWEVER I hope they know what they are doing Nash, because I tell you right now that the man is growing on me for a number of reasons:

1) He respects her skills

On the first case he plants a spy and passes of her conclusions as his own. That shows great trust in her intelligence. When he gets shot she’s his first choice of investigator rather than his own people, one of the other agencies, or the police. 

2) He doesn’t get upset when she bests and/or insults him

When she turns his double cross against him or tricks him into paying her more, he seems to admire her more for it. He does not get angry when she insults him. On the contrary, he likes that she is the only one that does it to his face.  

3) He admires her ambition

In fact he calls it part of the “holy trinity.” He isn’t threatened by it and doesn’t shame her for it.

4) He is adaptable

When Eliza rejects Nash’s first employment offer, he adjusts and re-pitches. Much better than say slamming one’s foot down. Quite the contrast to William who tends to dictate terms and expects to be obeyed. See the lack of counteroffer in the “work for me” proposal. 

5)  His methods are similar to Eliza’s

Eliza is an ends justify the means type of girl. She lies, sneaks, steals, and manipulates her way to success. She has little regard for the law. Same is true of Nash. William by contrast is beholden to procedure. He likes rules and governable systems. He tends tackles things head-on.

6) He is as sharp as Eliza

2x06 proves he is not a hack, given that he clocked the shooter with even more detail than Eliza recalled.

7) He does not seem to want a traditional homelife 

William I think wants children and an sanctuary away from the cares of work life. Nash, on the other hand, I get the sense he eats and breathes his business. Those type of people tend to be less child focused. I think the most Nash would want in life is someone to care and someone to trust.   

8) He can consider her opinions without either dismissing them or being ruled by them

This is in reference to the cane exchange, though I may be reading into it. He doesn’t immediately throw her choice into the bin once out she’s out of earshot. He stops, ponders and then decides to go with his first instinct. 

9) She “makes him want to be a fairer man”

This is pretty close to the classic romantic quote “You make me want to be a better man.” Furthermore its not BS, given his choices to not blame her for being shot and letting her keep the money. 

10) He appreciates her care

Unlike others that could be mentioned, who tend to question her affection whenever she does something that displeases him. Such men might, say, throw embroidered handkerchiefs into the trash in a fit of pique.

[niffala]

I Quit (Pt. 2)

Warnings: The Thrombeys being themselves, recreational drug use

A/N: Reader insert version found here. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

The first two weeks of Elizabeth's employment went smoothly. Harlan did indeed have a taste for sweets. The rest of his palate she worked at learning, but he seemed happy with her efforts. When he didn't care for a dish, he would let her know and she gladly made him something else. Funny enough, the man would ask for tomato and mayo sandwiches, with just a touch of salt and pepper. Such simple requests from such an interesting man.

It was finally the day she was dreading, her first Sunday family dinner with the Thrombey clan. Fran had gossiped about the family with her while she began preparations. She explained who everyone was, their quirks, and entitlements. She had an asshole rating system that Elizabeth found amusing.

Fran found most of the family intolerable, except Harlan of course. “The top asshole, a number 10, has to be Harlan's grandson, Ransom. But don't call him that, ever. He makes the help call him by his first name, Hugh. He's handsome, for sure, but don't let his face fool you. He is a massive jerk and will charm you, use you up and spit you out like that.” She snapped her fingers and huffed.

“Luckily, he doesn't come to many of these dinners. Not that the rest of them are any easier to deal with. Seriously, they should have their own reality show so the world can see them snarl at each other like a pack of rabid hyenas. I suggest you steer clear of them when you can. These nights can get ROUGH.”

“Duly noted.”

Fran smiled before leaving to set the table. “Good luck tonight. And if you need a little mood stabilizer at the end of the insanity, just let me know. I got you girl.”

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

Elizabeth's anxiety increased with every new voice that echoed through the large home. She couldn't hear much of the conversations, but was confident Fran would fill her in if she missed anything juicy. So she continued cooking in peace.

Speak of the devil, the brunette rushed into the kitchen, “Top asshole and Harlan’s mother are m.i.a., but the rest are seated. Tell me the app is ready?” Fran already looked so done with the night.

”Right over there. Description card included.”

“Thank youuuu.” She took the appetizers to deliver to the table.

The family was just as she left them. Sitting proper with fake smiles plastered on their faces, while practically seething at one another.  Fran served the table with an equally forced grin.

Richard scoffed at the bowl. “What the hell is this?”

“Richard!” Linda chastised her husband.

Fran swiftly read from the card, “A roasted butternut and apple soup with ginger and coconut milk.”

Linda took a tentative sip and her eyebrows rose. “I see Rosalee has improved.”

Donna followed her lead, also approving of the soup and the improved quality.

Harlan spoke up, “I'm afraid Rosalee has retired. I've hired someone new.” He sent Fran to ask his new chef to come out, greet his family and serve dinner.

Elizabeth pushed the cart out to the dining area. Feeling like she was walking into shark infested waters wearing a wounded seal suit. All eyes were on her as she entered. Harlan introduced her and asked what she had for them.

“I have for you a herb crusted crown roast of pork with a side of carrots and parsnips in citrus butter.”

“Um, excuse me, hi.” Joni raised her hand, pointing to the offending entrée. “We can't eat that. My Meg and I are vegan. Do you expect me and my daughter to just munch on carrots all night?”

Elizabeth nodded, "I have been informed of your dietary restrictions and made you both something separate.“ She placed the extra meal in front of them. ”Quinoa cakes with a tomato-zucchini and chickpea relish, drizzled with a balsamic glaze. But if you would like the citrus carrots on the side I can get that for you as well."

“Dietary restrictions, my ass. It's not a restriction, it's a mental illness.” Walt began to rant, “You know how you can spot a vegan? Don't worry, they'll tell you. They'll never shut up about it. Those douchebags think they're better than everyone else. They look down on us meat eaters, keep trying to convert us. Well let me tell you, eating meat is my God given right. My right! Don't you realize you can't live without meat. Your brain will die. That's why you are all so miserable, you're slowly dying.”

Donna rubbed her husband's shoulder in approval. While Richard raised his glass in salute to Walt's bullshit. Linda pursed her lips, ignoring them and trying to have a chat with her father.

Joni was on the defense, “We are the healthiest we've ever been. It's good for the planet, the environment, which benefits everyone, need I remind you.” She ignored her brother-in-law's snickering. “Let's be real, veganism is the answer to this world's problems. It is. It's the only moral choice. It clears up your skin and makes you feel good inside and out. And we don't have to feel guilty about contributing to the exploitation and slaughter of innocent lives. Animals are just like us.”

“Just like us?” Walt interjected. “Oh really, should we have dad's dogs sitting at the table with us? I tell ya, if Meg was a boy, I'd be calling DCF because you'd be depriving him of nutrients he needs to grow strong and polluting his male DNA with soy.”

“You're the one with blood on your hands, Walt. All those poor cute animals you've killed….”

Richard scoffed, “You've only been,” he raised his fingers in air quotes, “vegan for a damn month.”

“Ya well, I saw the truth and I'm changing. You'll see it too or die with all those animal products clogging your arteries... Plus it's been two months. Thank you very much.”

“I will happily eat my steak and drink my milkshakes all the way to my grave.”

Joni rolled her eyes, “Uck, you are completely hopeless.”

Walt raised his hand to silence any reply from Richard. “Don't bother. It's not worth fueling her delusions.”

That seemed to put an end to that argument. The rest of the meal went well. Although out of the whole family, only Harlan and Meg said 'thank you.' Not even the young boy spoke up. For being so rich and fancy, they certainly lacked manners.

Dessert was served without incident. Tiramisu and a mini vegan version for Joni and Meg. Harlan seemed to be in heaven, commenting on how rich and decadent it was.

After dinner was over, Elizabeth and Fran began clearing the table. Linda poked her head in, “Elizabeth, may I have a word with you?”

“Was there something wrong with your meal?”

“Oh no, no, dinner was lovely. However, I wanted to make sure you weren't making desserts like that for my dad all the time. He's getting up there in years and has to watch his cholesterol, his sugar intake, blood pressure, things of that nature. He can't be consuming food like you made tonight. He needs to eat healthier. I'd like to keep him around for a long time. I'm sure you can understand.”

“I fully understand, ma'am, but there is no need for concern. The food was chosen because this was a special occasion. It doesn't reflect his daily meals.” Elizabeth noticed Harlan a few feet behind his daughter. He winked at her before alerting her of his presence.

Linda clapped her hands, “Delightful. I'm so glad we have an understanding. I will make you a list of approved meals.” She smiled at her father before walking away.

Once Linda was out of earshot, Harlan leaned close to Elizabeth, “I'm not eating that pigeon food. You put her little list up on the message board in the kitchen and ignore it.”

Elizabeth thought she was safe. The family was dispersing out into the night. She turned on some music and began washing the dishes. Her hips swaying to the beat.

Joni snuck up behind her. “Oh I love this song.” She attempted to dance alongside Elizabeth, bumping their hips together. “Don't be shy. I could tell you recognize me. I get it allll the time now. You're correct, it's me. Owner, CEO, COO and CFO of FLAM.” She continued boasting about being a top influencer and her skin care products while Elizabeth stood there like a deer in the headlights.

An unwelcomed hand reached out to stroke her cheek, “Your skin looks so parched. You could really use a hydrating serum. My company offers the perfect product to help. It's an all organic algae blend that feels like the ocean on your face. So refreshing. And there's a vitamin C serum that will bring some life back to your overworked face.”

“Well let me tell you, FLAM is trending right now, it's going to be huge. You go ahead and follow me on twitter or instagram. I'm offering my first 100 followers a 15% off coupon. That will be available once I find the right graphic designer for my website. Those I interviewed so far just couldn't grasp my vision. This is a lifestyle I'm promoting. I have to trust they get my brand, ya know. But hold onto that coupon, it will be honored. So lovely to meet you, Evelyn.”

“Elizabeth,” she corrected.

“Sure.” Joni made her exit, blowing a kiss.

Fran entered and passed over the joint in her fingers. “It's like the fucking twilight zone isn't it.”

“You weren't kidding.”

The Thrombeys were the most insincere backstabbing piece of crap family she had the displeasure of meeting thus far. She wondered if any of them loved or were loyal to anything but money. Doubtful. Thank goodness she didn’t have to encounter them often.

These people are something else. I'm going to need therapy if I stay here too long.

Chapter 3 

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1: LONE STAR REACTION

This reaction is for the season 4, tenth episode "Sellouts" which originally aired March 28, 2023. The episode was written by Molly Green and James Leffler and directed by Tessa Blake. Spoilers ahead!

***LAST TIME ON 9-1-1: LONE STAR***

A young girl named Mouse is involved in an accident that kills her best friend and his parents. Marjan sells her bike and gives the money to Kylie, the young woman she rescued from an abusive relationship. The 126 prepare for Marjan's return to Austin but worry when she doesn't show up to her welcome back party. Marjan is accosted by Kylie's abusive ex and ends up driving off the road. She encounters Mouse in the woods and the two work together to escape Kylie's ex. Marjan is rescued by her 126 family and we learn that Mouse was the nickname her parents gave her when she was younger. 

Now that we're all up to speed, let's have a chat about episode ten - SELLOUTS.

We start the episode with my favorite trio - Tommy, Nancy, and TK. They arrive at the home of an older couple - Arthur (Leonard Kelly-Young) and Edith (Betsy Baker) - and we get the first of two emergencies that truly made me squirm in my seat. It should be noted when Arthur answered the door, he seemed surprised to see Tommy, Nancy, and TK even though he was the one who made the 9-1-1 call. He ushers them inside and Tommy does an assessment of his wife, Edith. Edith tells Tommy she has pain on the side of her head. Tommy checks her pupils and she asks if Edith wears contacts. Edith says she does wear contacts and upon closer inspection Tommy sees quite a few disposable contact lenses in her right eye. More than a dozen disposable contact lenses actually. Tommy assures Edith (and the viewers) this is a lot more common than most people think. In fact, there was a woman in the United Kingdom who had 27 disposable contact lenses removed. Now I wear glasses but I did wear disposable contact lenses in my early-20s. Ultimately they weren't for me - too much hassle - but I can assure you I always made sure to remove them at the end of the day, especially before I went to bed. But I digress. I did think it was funny when Edith calls Tommy pretty and then sees Nancy and TK and calls them pretty as well. You're absolutely right, Edith. Tommy, Nancy, and TK are all very pretty. 

Tommy tells Edith they will transport her to the hospital just as a follow-up and Edith is very appreciative. When they roll the gurney outside, another ambulance pulls up. The ambulance belongs to Paragon - a private paramedic service (remember them from last season?). Tommy asks Arthur if he called another ambulance. We then see our good friend Pearce Risher (Andy Favreau) and his partner get out of the ambulance. He tells Tommy that Arthur didn't call them. They saw a call come through from the address and dropped everything to come right over. Pearce refers to Arthur and Edith as his most-valued clients which Nancy takes offense to. Edith tells Tommy that Pearce and his partner have come to their home quite a few times whenever Arthur has had one of his spells. Tommy is clearly not impressed by Pearce's new employer. Pearce is a smug asshat in this scene which makes his comeuppance at the end of the episode all the more satisfying. Pearce chastises Arthur for calling 9-1-1 instead of the number that links him directly to Paragon. Pearce tells Tommy that he and his partner will take things over from here. He tells Edith that the LED lighting in their ambulance will be a lot easier on her eyes and he will even throw in a complementary herbal smoothie which definitely appeals to Arthur. Pearce and his partner leave with Arthur and Edith. Nancy asks if they are allowed to do what they just did and Tommy says she is going to find out. 

Title card!

The 126 hosts a Stand Up to Cancer event at their firehouse. It should be noted that Stand Up to Cancer is a real organization and for more information, I encourage you to visit their website here. Owen gives a speech talking about firefighters suffering from lung cancer. Being that Owen has battled lung cancer at least twice, I can think of no better person to deliver the speech. It was so fun seeing everyone dressed up. Everyone looked amazing including Carlos who looked quite debonair in a black tux. This is the second time we've seen our Office Reyes in a tux this season. Hopefully the third time will be when he's exchanging vows with TK. I also want to give a shout out to our resident 9-1-1 dispatcher, Grace who looked absolutely stunning with her hair in a ponytail and a mid-drift baring black dress. 

After Owen's speech, we get to see each of our characters mingling with the wealthy guests in attendance. Judd does a horrible job wooing a donor. Judd is usually so charming but in this scene he was a rambling hot mess. With some gentle nudging from Grace he is finally able to properly schmooze the older gentleman. Meanwhile, Marjan talks about getting shot recently while Carlos regales an older woman about his abduction by a serial killer. Tommy vents to a besuited man about the cheap gloves her and her team are forced to use due to poor funding. She also alludes to her recent experience with Paragon. 

The funniest interaction involves Mateo, Nancy, and another wealthy donor. Nancy points out that the wine they're drinking is from the Hill Country which, hey - all my Texans out there, is Hill Country a real place near Austin? I'm curious! Anywho, when the donor comments on the taste of the wine, Mateo says this:

Mateo: "Familiar yet unexpected. It's kinda like reading Dostoyevsky in the original Russian."

The donor agrees and is quite impressed with Mateo. He tells him that his wife has the checkbook and that he will be back. Nancy tells Mateo that she loves Dostoyevsky and is shocked that he does as well. Mateo comes clean and tells her he doesn't like the author and that the only reason he knew his name is because he heard Owen say the same thing when describing wine he was drinking. Of course, Owen Strand would compare wine to a Russian novelist! 

Speaking of Captain Strand, he orders tequila from an attractive bartender named Kendra Harrington (Michaela McManus). They have some flirty banter. The chemistry between the two of them is palpable. He gives her a tip and he says it's a token of solidarity between two normal, non-rich people. She compliments his speech and he admits it's not easy for him to talk about his cancer journey. This is a rare moment of vulnerability we rarely get from Owen so I really appreciate him saying that. I've always suspected that underneath all that bravado and expensive hair product, is someone who has experienced more than his share of pain, hurt, and heartbreak. An older couple approaches the bar and they talk to Kendra. Owen figures out very quickly that she is not one of the have-nots like he initially assumed. Kendra comes clean about not being a bartender but Owen doesn't seem to mind the deception because in our next scene the two of them are back at his house ripping each other's clothes off. All I kept thinking during this scene is that Owen has a roommate and how awkward must it be for Mateo anytime his captain has a booty call. I can imagine him coming downstairs the following morning to have some cereal and he has to step over clothes to get to the kitchen. I'd like to also point out that Mr. Rob Lowe recently celebrated his birthday. The man is nearing his 60s and he's still fine as hell!  

The morning after, Owen wakes up in the most golden room I've ever seen. Whoever lit this scene did a great job. I would seriously love it if every morning I woke up completely bathed in golden light coming through my bedroom window. Owen heads downstairs and finds Nancy and Mateo still talking about Dostoyevsky. Owen asks them if they've seen a hot blonde and Mateo says she just left. Owen tells them that Kendra isn't a bartender - she's a wealthy heiress. Owen seems pretty smitten with her and tells his two subordinates that he and Kendra hit it off physically and mentally and then physically again. Ew, Owen! It's one thing to live with your boss. It's quite another to hear about his sex life. Mateo and Nancy seem unfazed by this. I imagine they've had similar morning after conversations before. Nancy points out the note on the counter that Kendra left before she left their booty call. When he opens the envelope, he sees a check. Mateo insinuates that she paid Owen for the sexytimes they had the night before. Owen is stunned.

Tommy goes to see Chief Reynolds (Amy Farrington) to inquire about the city of Augtin cutting a deal with Paragon. Chief Reynolds tells her she didn't want to say anything until the press release. Tommy tells her to cancel it and refers to Paragon as greedy vampires. Tommy doesn't realize that Paragon's CEO, Jacques Lundy (Adam Ray) is also sitting in the office. I'd totally forgotten that when the firehouse got burned down towards the end of the second season, Tommy, Nancy, and TK were temporarily reassigned. Chief Reynolds tells Tommy that Paragon will share 35% of their profits with the city. This is so disgusting but hey, this is America where we often take advantage of the least of us so it sort of tracks that something like this could happen. Tommy tells the chief that Paragon's code of ethics and safety are not up to their standards. Jacques disagrees and shows her his business card. Chief Reynolds is on board and Jacques assures Tommy he is here to help anyway he can. Doubtful ...

Tommy reports her findings to the rest of the 126. Nancy wonders if things go private, what happens to her and Tommy and TK. Tommy's solution is that they'll have to arrive at each emergency quicker in order to beat Paragon. Owen and Mateo join them and Owen the former is upset because the latter has compared him to Richard Gere. The others are quite amused with what happened between Owen and Kendra and they give him some good-natured teasing. Paul assumes it's a Pretty Woman situation where Owen's the one who paid for sex with Kendra. TK reminds everyone that his dad doesn't have to pay for it which kudos to defending your dad but ew. If I were TK I would want no part of this conversation. Mateo clarifies by telling everyone he is not referring to Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. In this case, Owen is Richard Gere from American Gigolo. Judd tells Owen that Kendra Harrington that her family owns a LOT of land in the area. Owen insists that Kendra did not pay for sex with him and that the money she gave him was a donation for charity. Mateo reminds him the check was not made out to charity. It was made out to Owen. Judd asks him what Kendra wrote on the memo line. Owen says that no one uses the memo line. Tommy cuts to the chase by asking how much the check was for and Owen tells her it was for $100,000. Owen defends Kendra's honor and says that someone who looks like her doesn't need to pay for sex. Owen gets a text from Kendra asking if he's available or rather 'avail'. Owen tells the others he will get to the bottom of this misunderstanding.

Our next emergency is perhaps one of the worst situations I have seen on either 9-1-1 show. A man named Dan (Jared Gertner) boards a city bus and sits down next to a woman (Mary Claire Garcia). He sees that she's upset and asks her if she's okay. She tells him that she just got laid off after seven years. She tells him she feels useless and he assures her she's not. He then tells her that the hot pants he's wearing aren't a fashion statement. He's wearing them because he has a dialysis catheter in his thigh. He's been going to treatment three times a week for over a year. He tells her that having it sucks because he can't play soccer or go swimming with his son. He says there was a time he wanted to give up but he's just found out he will be the recipient of a new kidney. She congratulates him and introduces herself. Her name is Martha.

Dan sees a pregnant woman board the bus and gets up so she can have his seat. As he is trying to get up, the dialysis catheter gets caught on another passenger's cart. It snaps off and blood immediately starts spraying everywhere. Blood splatters across Martha's forehead. There's nothing cute about this meet-cute. Dan passes out and Martha calls 9-1-1. Back at the firehouse, Tommy receives word of a patient hemorrhaging and she tells Nancy and TK they need to get moving. Nancy is confused because there hasn't been a call. Tommy tells her that dispatch gave the call to Paragon and she heard it over the radio. The three of them load up in the ambulance and Tommy calls Grace on her personal line so she can help them get to the scene first. It was fun seeing Nancy drive the ambulance. Poor TK got tossed all about in the back of the ambulance as Nancy took every sharp curve. The 126 paramedics beat the Paragon paramedics to the scene and they immediately go to work. The 126 firefighters arrive soon thereafter. The Paragon paramedics finally arrive and Pearce tells Tommy this is their call. Tommy pulls rank and tells them they can start handing out water and towels to the crowd slowly forming around the bus. Pearce is pissed but he backs down.

Nancy boards the bus and finds Martha putting pressure on Dan's legs. Mateo and Paul arrive with a backboard to transport Dan and they keep slipping and falling because of all the blood on the floor. Speaking of blood, the bus is covered in Dan's life essence. At this point there has to be more blood in the bus than inside Dan's body but somehow he is still conscious through all of this. I haven't seen this much blood since that scene in Scream IV where Ghostface absolutely brutalizes this girl in her room and the walls and floors are covered in blood. Nancy applies a tourniquet to Dan's leg which temporarily stops the bleeding. Mateo and Paul finally manage to get over to Dan and they are able to get him loaded onto the backboard. They run into an issue when they attempt to move him because the floor is slippery. So, their solution is to slide Dan down the aisle like he's a hockey puck. 

Paul and Mateo are able to carry Dan off the bus and TK begins hooking him up to a lifepak. Dan's blood pressure starts to plummet because he needs a blood transfusion due to too much blood loss. Tommy calls out to Pearce and asks if he has whole blood on his rig. Pearce says of course. Tommy tells him that if he can transfuse Dan then she will give him over to him. Pearce begins the transfusion while his partner administers compressions. Martha watches as they work on Dan. Dan's blood pressure levels out and Pearce and his partner roll him away to their ambulance. Pearce calls Tommy second best and Tommy's dislike for the guy intensifies. 

We head over to the Strand residence where Owen is prepping for his second evening with Kendra Harrington. He's broken out the fine channel because he wants this evening to be more about romance than sex. Mateo asks Owen how he plans on asking her if the money was intended for charity or for sex. Owen says he plans on asking her to a high-brow event and if she says yes, he'll know that the money wasn't for sex. Mateo thinks he should be more pointed when he asks her about the intention of the money she gave him but Owen says that will be uncouth. Mateo brings up Dostoyevsky again and tells Owen that Nancy has him reading Crime and Punishment. I found this tidbit of information so sweet because when we were first introduced to Mateo in season one, we saw him struggle with dyslexia. Becoming a firefighter was an uphill battle for him and now he's reading huge-ass Russian novels. Good for you, Mateo! 

Kendra arrives with a bag of hamburgers which doesn't exactly flow with Owen's special romantic evening. Kendra recognizes the china on the dining room table and she wonders if her hamburgers are disappointing. Owen assures her they aren't. Owen asks her about the artist Joan Miro and tells her there's a special exhibit he would like for them to attend after they have their burgers. Kendra wants to stay in and have some more sexytimes. Buttercup interrupts the moment and Owen tells Kendra that he adopted him from a rescue that works with dogs with cancer. Kendra is impressed by this information and starts kissing Owen. Owen wants to take it slow but Kendra wants to put the pedal to the metal.

The next morning, Mateo finds Owen in the kitchen alone. Owen tells Mateo that he and Kendra had a great evening and that no money was exchanged. Owen monologues about how Kendra likes him for him and then he gets a Venmo notification on his phone. Kendra has sent him $40,000. Mateo jokes that the reduction in payment is a customer loyalty discount. 

At the firehouse, Owen is conflicted about what to do with the $140,000 he has received from Kendra. Judd comes to his office and asks him about his second date with Kendra Harrington. Owen tells him about the $40,000 and how this payment did come with a memo line - a bone emoji. Owen calls himself a cheap himbo but Judd tells him there's nothing cheap about $140,000. Owen admits that the money is a bit of an ego boost but he's also bummed because he really likes Kendra and thinks they might have something special. Judd tells him to just give the money to charity.

In our next scene, Tommy, Nancy, and TK arrive at a perfume factory where there's possibly a toxic, airborne event taking place. Paragon beats them to the scene and Pearce asks one of the employees about what insurance he has which is super gross. Pearce tells Tommy that she, Nancy, and TK are on hydration duty. Nancy gets upset but Tommy says they will do it. Nancy and TK are pissed and annoyed with Pearce but Tommy admits that he is good at his job. She reminds them about how he saved Dan. Nancy asks her what happens when Paragon takes over and they don't have jobs anymore. Tommy says they will help as much as they can for as long as they can.

Tommy receives notification that it's a false alarm and the three of them start to leave. They see Pearce and his partner load one of the factory workers into the Paragon ambulance. Tommy confronts them and Pearce tells her that they're taking the man to the hospital due to exposure. Tommy tells him it was a false alarm and Pearce tells her that she's out of line. Tommy calls him son and he pulls rank on her. Tommy apologizes for calling him son and says she should have called him a profiteering sociopath. TK calls him a sellout and Nancy calls him a coward. Pearce says he will report them to the chief and they will get suspended. He and his partner load the man onto the ambulance and then it explodes. Tommy, Nancy, and TK run towards the ambulance . Pearce stumbles out of the ambulance with injuries and Tommy and Nancy go to his aid while TK and Pearce's partner go to check on the factory worker. Tommy sees that Pearce's chest is not rising evenly. She performs a thoracostomy which is rare to do in the field and is successful. Tommy saves Pearce's life.

Owen gets a visit from Kendra and he decides to confront her about the money. Owen accuses her of treating him like a sex worker. Kendra explains to him that her brother died of lung cancer which is why she was at the benefit gala. She then tells him that the $100,000 is for the cancer charity while the $40,000 is for the dog charity. The bone that was in the memo line was a dog bone.

Kendra: "In what bronzer-soaked universe would I spend $100,00 to sleep with you?"

Kendra says this always happens to her. Money ruins everything. She never knows if people like her for her or if they want something out of her. Owen tells her he doesn't care about her money. He asks her on another date - a real date. 

Tommy goes to see Pearce in the hospital. I thought it was very sweet that she brought him a peace lily (or at least I think that was a peace lily). Either way it was a sweet gesture. Tommy tells him she is there to check on the incision she made. Pearce tells her that the doctor says it was a good incision and that she's in the wrong field. Pearce tells Tommy she is doing exactly what she is meant to do. I find it interesting that Tommy performed the same procedure in the field that Hen Wilson did on 9-1-1.  Pearce tells Tommy he is planning on suing Paragon right before Jacques shows up with flowers and other gifts. Pearce tells him he wants $20 million dollars. He then says he plans on suing Jacques for everything he's worth ... and then some. Jacques says that everything that happened was an accident. Pearce reminds him that the accident was caused by faulty equipment in the rig which Pearce had already warned him about. Tommy tells Jacques that if Pearce lodged a complaint already then this accident is due to negligence. Jacques leaves to call his lawyer. Tommy looks to Pearce and tells him that karma is a beautiful thing.

What a fun episode! This season has been filled with serial killers, sociopathic exes, and plots to blow up greater Austin. Now that all of that is behind us, it's great that we're back to episodes where we get humor and some fun emergency sequences. I really like that we got to focus on the paramedics this episode. I really enjoyed Tommy's pettiness while dealing with the insufferable Pearce. One thing Lone Star does well is its recurring characters. We got Ty O'Brien earlier this season and now we have Pearce back for his third episode. Hopefully we'll see Dave from the dispatch center before this season is over.

Owen's plot is everything I want from that character. Rob Lowe is a comedic actor first and foremost. He is not an action hero. When the show lets him be silly, that's where he really shines in my opinion. Of all the women we have seen him with, I like Kendra the most. I hope we get to see more of her and I have a feeling we will.  

I know some folks will call this a filler episode but so far I don't think we've gotten any filler episodes this season. I think season 2 is the best season of Lone Star but this season may just snatch the number one spot for me if it continues on this trajectory. If you're reading this, what did you think of this episode? Which plot did you like the best? The Tommy versus Paragon storyline or the American Gigolo storyline with Owen? Feel free to comment! I'm excited to see what happens next! Until next time ...

[housedeaubemarle]

By Way of an Apology: Part 3

A follow up to The Grand Hunt - the Losstarot lords and the Aubemarle twins go on a picnic.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

(Written with @escherstrange-ffxiv - a delight and a gem all around, don't listen to her refuting it)

~*~

The cook of the Bobbing Cork looks at her employer in utter indignation. Behind her, some assistants scurry back and forth, letting their leader deal with things.

“Can't ye see we've got any amount of visitors here today? This entire kitchen's near to bursting with orders and ye want me t'do summat special, just because some highbrow-seeming visitors decided they're stayin, oh and by the way, here's a dozen fish to cook in twelve different ways?”

The innkeeper flaps his hands in an attempt at placating her. “Now, Cook, it's not a dozen is it? Merely seven mid-sized ‘uns! And they ain't fussy, they said - just one in a lemon and garlic sauce, and another steamed with ginger! The rest they leave to your hands, and they'll pay extra! Weren't ye just sayin’, t'would be nice to have a little more variety in your repert-”

“Steamed! Does this ancient ruin of a kitchen look like Yanxia to ye! What's next, Limsa-style coconut puddin?!”

“Well now that you mention it-”

“Raffe, I swear upon the Twelve, ye march right back out there and tell them hoity toity Ishgardians since only them frozen folks put on these sorts of airs–”

“Couldn't agree with you more, madame,” comes a new voice from the entrance of the kitchen.

Both innkeep and cook spin round to face two very tall Elezens who've come to see what the delay of their rather early dinner is about - one ridiculously beautiful fellow with grey skin on the left looks politely concerned, while a less beautiful but certainly handsome one on the right sports a white grin. It's like seeing a Prince of Winter and a Lord of Autumn standing side by side.

“We Ishgardians are wholly unsupportable, it's quite true,” continues the brown-haired visitor smoothly. “I must offer my apologies - it seems we've quite put you out with our requests.”

Raffe is sputtering rapid denials, but the cook has gamely recovered her spirit after 20 seconds of staring at the double whammy of physical beauty in front of her.

“If ye knew it'd put us out, then don't be making such a fuss and just order off the board, why don't ye?”

Isillud looks at Remont with a face that silently asks him to reconsider the orders, or come to a compromise. "Steaming does take a while from my experience, and there are only four of us. Perhaps leave the intricate recipes to Olanfeitasyn instead?

He turns to the cook, "Fish doesn't sit well with me so you would only need to cook for three, in a style suited to your convenience, what say you?"

Remont holds back a laugh, watching the cook falter in the face of Isillud's eyes and the silk-hemmed-with-sharp-glass tone he's taken. He puts a hand on his cousin's back, just over the shoulder blade, winks at him, then looks back at her. 

“My cousin is quite right: the steaming is a bit much, now that I think on it. It's my sister's first time here, you see, and I let my enthusiasm run away with me. I wanted to show her all the fine facilities your inn has always afforded me, including the cuisine. I've always said the Bobbing Cork ought to advertise its meals as much as it does its soft beds.” 

He has absolutely no compunction about taking the cook's hand and bowing over it. “Forgive my lack of consideration, madame. I hope my cousin's suggestion would be more agreeable than my foolishness.”

The cook blinks up at this young man, full of graceful contriteness, and then at the other young man, holding himself with proper dignity. “W-well,” she clears her throat. “If ye'd just said that from the first, there'd have been less trouble.”

“Right then,” says Raffe quickly, catching a distinct glint in a pair of green eyes and desperate to see this happy conclusion materialise. “Please, let me see you back to your table, gentlemen, and allow me to present you with our best beers, on the house of course.”

As he begins to dutifully escort Isillud out of the kitchen, Remont lingers behind, having a short, low-voiced conversation with the cook, now rather much calmer. Still, he manages to catch up with Isillud well before they reach the table where the others sit waiting.

“Bow and arrows and katanas don't seem to be your only weapon of choice,” he murmurs.

"That my mouth is a lethal weapon should come as no surprise to you, dear cousin; you have firsthand experience." Isillud's hands sink into the pockets of his breeches, smiling triumphantly as he approaches the table. "No steamed fish, but we'll have a fish dinner nonetheless."

"Who convinced the cook first, you or him?" Joshua asks.

"Remont's ability to tame chocobos extends to grumpy cooks too."

At that comment, Oudine looks at her brother with some suspicion as he takes up a seat beside her. “What happened? Why are you so red?”

“Ghastly heat in the kitchen,” he says simply, high colour staining his cheeks. “Little wonder she wasn’t in a mood to humour ‘hoity toity Ishgardians’.”

Her brow wrinkles. “Oh dear. We offended?”

Remont chuckles. “Mightily. Only to be expected really. Still, Izzy took point, and we gained ground in the end, so all’s well. Oh good, the beers.”

Four pints of cool amber beers arrive, along with a surprise appetiser – carrot nibbles – borne by Raffe himself. He beams particularly at Oudine. “So good of you to patronise our establishment, miss. I hope you enjoy your time here at the Bobbing Cork.”

She immediately smiles with just the right amount of agreeable politeness. “That’s most kind of you. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

He bows and hurries away, leaving Oudine to look at Remont and Isillud in confusion. “What in the Fury’s name did you both do in there?” 

"Nothing," Isillud's answer is simple, shoving a carrot nibble into his mouth followed by a swig. "We apologised and compromised and came to an agreement just as good businessmen do. Didn't we, cousin?" And just as effortlessly he throws the ball into Remont's side of the court.

“Businessmen or desperate noblemen,” is Remont's quip after he swallows a gulp of very decent beer, all things considered. 

“Then why did the innkeeper single me out?”

“He likes your face perhaps.” Oudine's entire aura of scepticism makes Remont pat her on the head. “You're on a holiday, Dine - let it go.”

She swats his hand away familiarly. “Fine, but I'm not helping you if the cook comes out with a cleaver.”

“That is most certainly not going to happen,” he says primly.

Joshua's eye twitches at the pint; he takes a sip followed by a soft groan, waving down a waiter for a glass of juice, any juice. "I'll never understand how people enjoy the taste."

Amused, Remont asks, “How have you managed all the balls and parties so far? Highborn blood is essentially a mix of ale, wine and champagne.”

"Sips. As long as they see my lips touching the glass, most are satisfied." Joshua drinks as soon as the juice hits the table. "It's rare to find a drink I enjoy, it all tastes mostly awful." Isillud cocks an eyebrow at his brother's lament, wondering to himself if perhaps something is wrong with Joshua's taste buds.

The aroma of spices and fish fill the air as their dishes are brought out: First is a bowl of popoto salad, followed by three plates of fried fish with lemon and garlic sauce generously slathered over the plate. Another plate of vegetables lands at Isillud's side of the table. Satisfied that the main dishes have arrived, he brandishes his fork. "Bon appetit."

If Oudine has been raised in a household with a Roegadyn chef who insists on at least two types of sauces or gravies if there will only be one kind of meat on the table, she doesn’t show a single sign of expecting it at the Bobbing Cork. 

Her eyes light up at the appearance of all the food, and the waft of garlic hits her senses with delight. Not for her some of her peers’ upturned noses at the herb. When she looks up at Remont, he grins.

“Knew you'd like it.”

Oudine laughs. “I take everything back - well done, you two. Bon appetit!”

They have barely begun to tuck in, when three more orders arrive. A platter of Blood Tomato salad, dollops of its dark vinegar covering the fresh vegetables, is set on the table. Swiftly following is a dish of sauteed chanterelles, its buttery scent rising to tempt noses and appetites. 

Finally, a tureen of warm soup is placed carefully in the centre, with an accompanying ladle and extra bowls. Sliced and cubed vegetables bob amongst chunks of white meat in the aromatic broth – more fish it seems.

“I hope you don't mind,” says Remont, reaching for a spare bowl, “that I bartered the rest of our haul for these. Though I did beg for Wil's catch to be used in the soup. Where is he by the way? I haven't seen him since we came in.” 

The boys' jaws drop at the amount of food trotted out before them. Perhaps 5 years is too long even for them to get used to the amount after careful and simple portions; Remont's consideration for Isillud's dietary needs give the slender Elezen an appetite he never thought existed until now.

Though he nearly drops his fork when he hears about the soup. "You took Wil's catch-"

A tall Elezen storms into the inn, clad in a strange black top decorated with a long feather side skirt and dark pants. Dark heavy boots clomp on the wooden floorboard with each step, tousled brown hair with white highlights hiding the annoyance on his face. "He STOLE my FISH I- Izzy!" His face lights up, skipping over and glomping the startled grey man.

Joshua stares pointedly at the pair, back to their cousins, then back to his brother, silently prompting him to say something. Luminous green eyes dart around the table before he starts. 

"...I think we can afford to feed one more mouth."

This dramatic entrance manages to take even Remont by surprise, though he catches the (thankfully) empty bowl that fell out of his hands in time before it hits the floor. His mind immediately grabs hold of the stranger's words before the man had enveloped Isillud. Stole his fish? Who did? Who’s he? What fish?

Oudine stares at the outburst of affection before her, a forkful of fried carp hovering halfway to her mouth. Yet the shock is quickly overcome since there is a more pressing need to be hospitable to someone who is clearly Isillud's friend. Not to mention she can feel the pressure of curious eyes and ears surrounding them; calm must be restored as soon as possible.

She puts down her fork, and smiles. “By all means, we have more than enough to go around. Please join us, sir. Would you care for a beer, or something else?”

"Really? Oh you're too, too kind. A beer would be nice but I really want- my fish! Oh thank you love, how did you know?" Isillud ladles a heaping bowl of fish soup with as many chunks of fish meat and immediately passes it to Wil to shut him up. On his part, Wil seems to be content with only the soup, cheerfully passing everything else over to Isillud. "You need to gain some weight, Izzy, or Oudine will start worrying", he tuts.

Joshua's eyes grow wide as saucers, almost throwing his spoon at Wil. Thankfully Isillud catches on and immediately cuts in, "I told him about us, and you."

"Oh, yes, yes! Izzy's told me so much! Hi, I'm Wil," he waves across the table.

My fish. Love. Oudine. Wil.

The words all flash in Remont's mind in quick succession, one after another. The conclusion made is impossible, and yet it is insistent.

Rare are the times that Remont de Aubemarle doesn’t have at least an adequate response to a situation wholly unexpected. Whether in the ballrooms of Ishgard or the forests of Tailfeather, he relies on the grace of tongue or body to rescue him, a grace that seldom fails.

Seldom. Not never.

He only just manages to keep from blurting out what isn’t supposed to be noticed. In some desperation, his eyes go sideways to his sister. She looks surprised, but still smiles as she picks up her fork again.

“Master Wil, it’s nice to meet you. Do you live around these parts? Or are you too situated in Ishgard?” She glances calmly at Remont. “Will you call for another beer, Rem?”

Polite inquiry. Civil discourse. Surprises and shocks later. The Viscount is holding a meeting.

Decision made, Remont hails a waiter, asks for another pint, then sits back with his own to let Oudine work.

Compared to the Losstarots, Wil has enough exuberance for all three of them. His hands flail and sway in time with his words, fully in the moment. He nods at the right times when Oudine or Remont speak, hanging onto their words like gospel, laughing at their jokes. At times he seems to have the dignity of a statesman holding court with diplomats with his hands clasped in front of him: in between he exhibits childlike curiosity at food, using his cutlery to pick and eat tiny bites. Almost birdlike, some would say.

"Neither, I'm from a small country far from Eorzea - don't look for it, it's long gone. Izzy saved my life so I simply go where he goes. Yes, our paths do cross often, funny how fate works, doesn't it? You'd think the Twelve have a hand in it. What about you? Izzy tells me you're a Viscount, is that a job description?"

Remont has been genuinely holding up his portion of the very genial conversation very admirably, right up to the point Wil asks of the viscountcy. It is a question posed with, to him, a little too light a touch. He maintains a smile, but drinks his beer to swallow down the sudden, unexpected sting with the liquor.

Naught but a curious question from a foreign stranger. We're not in Ishgard. Don't impose your thoughts onto someone else. Father would have laughed. You know he would have. 

In the next moment, as if to reassure him, Oudine laughs good-naturedly. Her amusement helps ease the tension in his jaw. 

“In a manner of speaking. An ancestor of ours was once of House Dzemael, and was bestowed the title. We are far removed now, of course. We pledge no specific fealty to them but in the common manner all the lesser houses follow the lead of Ishgard's High Houses, to say nothing of the House of Lords and House of Commons.”

"Uh huh, uh huh," Wil nods, clearly looking like he doesn't have a clue about how Ishgardian nobility works. 

She picks up a wedge of tomato from her plate. “But all that seems quite mundane now that I've heard Izzy saved your life. May I ask how that happened?”

He perks up when asked about the story he loves telling. "I was working for a Garlean officer - real nasty fellow - when Izzy saved me from him with the power of love!" He poses dramatically at the table. Isillud meanwhile takes great pains to avoid eye contact, eyes only on his food.

"And he is such a smart man, when he found out who I worked for he lured me with his charms and threatened to send my head back to my boss if I didn't betray him and follow his orders!" He drapes his arm around Isillud's shoulder, cheek against cheek. "You should tell them the story Izzy, it's so much more interesting when you tell it!"

"I rather not," Isillud mumbles, trying to hide words in between bites.

"Oh? Okay, but I think Remont would appreciate the time you fu-mph!"

"Perhaps in less polite company," Isillud quickly cuts in, shoving a spoonful of fish soup into his mouth. "If you keep talking you may lose your fish~" he sings. With that the man is mollified, happily chewing and swallowing his meal.

Joshua decides it is a good time to drink his beer, awful it may be. "I did not know any of that."

Oudine rests her chin on one hand, observing the way Isillud hasn't met their eyes since Wil took his seat at the table. The smile on her face widens just a little when she hears Joshua's comment, and when he actually touches his previously pristine pint. 

“Storytelling perhaps is not his strongest suit, though I doubt Master Wil minds. I'm very glad to meet someone who cares so much about him, sir, and whom he cares for very much in turn. We have grown quite attached to both our cousins, you see, so to see them happy cannot be but gratifying.”

Suddenly, she tilts her head in a considering way. “Oh! Then your crow must be named after this Wil. What a very sweet gesture, Izzy.”

Remont takes refuge in eating more fried fish, trying not to let humour overtake him. 

She continues with all amiability. “Can you imagine Izzy's very clever crow even caught the fish that's in this soup? We were all most impressed.”

Wil puffs his chest out at what he perceives to be compliments from Oudine. "Izzy's crow is very, very clever indeed! Why I daresay it could be as clever as me, I was particularly proud of the time I swooped into the water and reaching out just at the right time…"

Sting now dissolved, it is impossible for Remont not to grin after this entire speech, and the way it has been given. He also hears that last addition, but lets it pass. It's still a pleasant evening after all.

The teasing lilt is evident in his voice. “Intelligent, charming and brave – Izzy, is there nothing you can’t do?”

"Women." 

Joshua answers Remont so matter-of-factly Isillud chokes on his food. Wil pats his back, immediately offering his beer to his lover with soft comforting words. "There, there, Izzy, slow and deep breaths." 

Joshua's single-worded answer doesn’t just affect Isillud. Their taller Aubemarle cousin has the odd feeling he might actually die from internal haemorrhaging since his gut isn't being allowed to release the amount of hilarity that's attacked him. The roaring laughter that would ensue is most certain to draw far more attention than their black-clad, energetic visitor.

To save himself, Remont claps Oudine once on the shoulder in either apology, thanks or both, struggles to mumble something about Ishgard, and bolts from the table. Oudine spares him a glance just to see him run out of the inn, while some of the other tables stare at his exit. 

Isillud glares at Joshua from behind the hair fallen over his face, silently saying, "If he outs us you're in just as much trouble too," which prompts Joshua to clear his throat. "A-are we all done with dinner, we mustn't keep dessert waiting!"

Wil is excited. "There's dessert?!"

Oudine beams at the others above the half eaten platters and dishes of their meal. At least the tureen of soup has been done enough justice, since only about a quarter is left.

“Rem is quite right - we nearly forgot to send word to our mother of us staying overnight. Dessert would be marvellous, Joshua. What are we having?”

"Uh, for dessert we have uh…" Joshua looks around frantically, which catches the attention of an observant waitress. This miqo'te tilts her head, content to gaze at the attractive Elezens at the table. "Cook has apple pies fresh from the oven just this evening if that's to your liking, and you will like it." The cheeky smile she gives feels like a guarantee though he looks around the table for agreement. 

Wil nods eagerly while Isillud buries his head in his hands, wondering about the many ways Remont will have a field day with tonight.

“Fresh apple pie sounds delightful,” says Oudine, nodding smilingly. “Just four slices, if you please. I'll nibble from Rem's plate - I don't think I could finish an entire slice myself after the feast we've just had.”

The sight of how deeply Isillud's face has gone into his hands gets past the outer shell of Viscount Aubemarle to the centre where Oudine is; there's a wave of sympathy – perhaps she's gone a little too far. She isn't sure what she could say to help at this point however. She tries anyway.

“Ton amant est très engageant, Izzy.  Je suis content qu'il t'ait trouvé, toi et nous,” says Oudine, and hopes her Old Elezen may at least convey her genuine intentions. Puzzled as she is by Wil’s patter in contrast to his demeanour, at least one thing cannot be mistaken: he adores Isillud absolutely (and more demonstratively than the nobles of Ishgard in public). For that, most eccentricities can be forgiven.

Oudine gets Isillud out of his embarrassment and dread. It relieves him that they have not written him off as eccentric or an embarrassment when common nobles would have done so. For that he comes out of hiding and lets Wil drape himself all over him as much as he wants.

"Merci."

How long has it been since he spoke Old Elezen? He surprises himself with the words he has not used for five years. He remembers the first time he struggled with Common at Revenant's Toll while adventurers patiently taught and refined his vocabulary. His whole life has been defined by the kindness of the friends he makes; to know Oudine is worming her way into that list warms him.

"What did you say Izzy? That sounds so romantic! Say it again!" Wil prompts, bumping heads with him like an eager affectionate pet.

The waitress brings out four slices of apple pie, each with a generous scoop of ice cream.

~*~

Some time later, after Remont has laughed so hysterically he frightened several visitors who've been taking an evening stroll near the lake, paid handsomely for an express message to be taken to the Aubemarle manor in Ishgard and seen to it that the gazebo is made ready for after-dinner entertainment, he walks back into the slightly more crowded Bobbing Cork. Unsurprising since it’s after dusk when most begin seeking food and board. 

There's amusement and some relief to see the party he'd so abruptly left still sitting, eating and for all intents and purposes, having a good time. Wil is still as animated, but Isillud appears more content and Joshua less tense. Oudine seems to also have relaxed her guard. 

“Apologies for leaving so suddenly - Mamma would have sharp words for her inconsiderate children if we didn't at least try to inform her of our intentions.” He pauses, looking at his plate, then raises an eyebrow at his sister. “Dine, is there a reason I have more apple pie than ala mode?”

Oudine finishes the last of her beer. “I was too full for my own, but we were told we would like the cook's apple pie.”

“So I repeat my question: what happened to my ice cream?”

Oudine smiles with perfect innocence. “It was lovely.”

Remont shakes his head. “Lutin,” he says without any heat, picking up his fork. “I took the liberty of preparing the gazebo. We only have to pick up our orchestrion – Izzy you will also dance at some point – and be on our way when we're ready.” He smiles at Wil. “We'd be glad to have you join us, Master Wil.”

Wil has started a self challenge to see how many apple cubes he can stuff into his mouth when he perks up at the mention of dancing. "Mmph? Danf? We ge' ta' dansh?"

Isillud stops mid-spoon. "Me? Why?"

Joshua  eats a spoonful of apple pie a la slush. "Just do it, Izzy. It's training."

"I don't need to dance, you do."

"I'll figure it out when I get there."

"Then you won't mind if we figure it out together, hmm?" Isillud smiles the smile of one getting one over brother dearest while the dear brother narrows his eyes at him, unable to speak out when the crow is in earshot.

"Fine."

~*~ 

Dessert soon finished and the various leftovers packed neatly (“if these dishes return to the kitchen as they are, we’ll never be allowed back here, even if Ser Aymeric himself begs on hands and knees,” says Remont decisively. “We’ll figure out what to do later.”), they vacate the inn, and head back out into the cooler night air of the North Shroud. The weather has held very well, and Fallgourd Float is as beautiful at night as it is in the day.

Oudine takes a moment to admire how prettily the Bobbing Cork stands – like a large warm lamp – in the middle of the dark forestry, before she turns round to see the gazebo.

“Oh Rem, that’s beautiful!”

Remont, his arms occupied by the table orchestrion, raises his eyebrows. “Well, well.”

Small spherical lanterns, glowing softly yellow like little full moons, dangle from the pillars. Smaller lights - the sparkly white stars to the lanterns’ moons - are scattered between them. A few plump cushions have even appeared on the floor, atop a thin rug. Holding the rug down are two standing iron lanterns so there’s more than enough light to see by. There’s plenty of space for dancing to the side, as he’d asked. 

"That's so pretty! It reminds me when the presidential palace was decorated for special occasions with lanterns like that! No rugs because nobody sat on the floor for formal events but…" Wil prattles on about places and events foreign to everyone but himself though Isillud listens and nods along.

The two Hyur adventurers Remont had hailed for a favour while he’d been out earlier wave at him as they all approach. “Did as you asked, mister! What’d you think?”

He admires their handiwork accordingly. “Miss, sir, you’ve outdone yourselves. My thanks for your excellent work,” he says as he gives them a small pouch full of gil. Thinking quickly, he adds, “Here, a bonus”, and gestures for Joshua to hand over the food to them.  

Joshua hands over the food, he has half a mind to ask them if they have seen Zeir (adventurers smart enough to stay safe and alive on this side of the Shroud probably deserve credit, he thinks) but decides not to. 

The pair of adventurers look surprised to receive the boxes, but are politely grateful and go on their way, leaving the others to occupy the gazebo.

Remont sets the orchestrion down on the rug, while Oudine places her rolls beside it. Then she looks up at her cousin with an eager smile. “Before we all get distracted, Izzy, will you favour us first with your violin? Any of your favourites would do.”  

Joshua sits on the rug cross-legged, taking a cushion to hug for now. The latches on Isillud's violin case snap open: a mahogany brown violin lies amidst padding. The surface has a baby chocobo painted on it. Isillud removes a pair of silk gloves packed inside - thinner than his current pair of leather gloves, but sufficient protection for him - and sits down to tune the instrument. 

"What if I accompany something on the orchestrion?" he suggests.

Remembering his words in the boat this afternoon, she doesn't insist on a solo. Oudine looks through the few rolls she brought from home, touching each as if she's trying to remember the melodies.

She smiles at the last one, and picks it up to place it in the orchestrion. 

“I hope you don't mind me being rather clichéd, even though you've both been kind enough to take us to the North Shroud.”

The orchestrion clicks and whirrs. A pause, then the first slow, stirring notes of ‘Against the Wind’ begin to rise into the night.

Soft strings fill the night air; Isillud readies the violin, replacing the tune's violin with his own. His fingers search for the notes but he keeps up. Music fills the night around Fallgourd Float, everyone relaxing and easing into their chosen spot in the gazebo. 

Except Wil.

"This…isn't exactly dance music, is it?"

Joshua has his eyes closed when he answers. "No, but I don't mind."

"This won't do," Wil clicks his tongue and looks at the rolls. "'Scuse me Viscount don't mind me just looking for some livelier music before we all fall asleep." His face brightens as he unfurls a roll, scanning over the notes as the score plays out in his head. He immediately scoots over and shows it to Isillud, "Izzy, you can play a fiddle, right?" The violin stops abruptly as the grey elezen squints at the score under lantern light.

"You need to talk to Etienne about those eyeglasses, Izzy," Joshua mutters.

"It's just dark," he grumbles back, handing the roll to Wil. "If Oudine doesn't mind?"

Wil turns to Oudine with large brown puppy eyes, showing the roll to her. "Can we play this to dance, pleeease?" Rhythm of the Realm is written in cursive on top.

Oudine, who's had her chin on her knees as she hugs her legs, thoroughly sinking herself in the violin's notes and the picture of her snowy mountainous home, wakes from her reverie when the song abruptly stops. At Wil's question, she sits up, duly swallowing the disappointment of not hearing the song to its original conclusion. She had brought up dancing, not musical appreciation first, and those eyes are very large.

When she looks at the label, she laughs. “Sir, if you wish to take on such a lively song, then I am all for the idea.”

Remont, lounging beside his sister and lulled into contentment by the song earlier, gets up to read as well. His laughter is louder than Oudine's.

“Rhythm of the Realm! Master Wil, you honour us with the challenge,” he says, all previous stillness gone. He rises to his feet, and helps Oudine up. Then he looks over at the others with his white grin. 

“Come on then, can't dance a ceilidh with just three bodies! Put down the violin, Izzy; on your feet, Joshua!”

“We can't really dance it with five either,” says Oudine with another laugh as she gets into position opposite him. 

“Tis a romp, not a ball,” replies Remont easily. “We'll improvise.”

"Four first, Remont," Isillud chuckles, adjusting his fingers to the strings, "Wil issued two challenges."

Wil pulls Joshua up. "Up we go, it's about to start!"

The orchestrion starts. The opening notes are swift and furious; it takes all of Isillud's concentration to keep up the tempo, fingers flying across the fingerboard. Once he gets into it the rest is child's play, and he begins to relax, his posture loosening. He taps a foot in time with the beat and while he dances alone, a dance is still a dance.

It is absolute madness from the beginning, because what else can one expect from Rhythm of the Realm? The frantic fiddling sets the pace for fast twirling and skipping, as Oudine and Remont hook elbows, laughing at the way they’ve memorised the opening (a result of many hours of impromptu practice with each other and various cousins in years past). They spin and step, spin and skip, spin and step then break. Oudine grabs Joshua, Remont grabs Wil, and the spinning begins anew – a little slower now to match the marching pace of the middle of the song. 

By some miracle, they all manage to step in time to the music, Remont just barely managing not to kick Wil in the calves, Oudine somehow making sure Joshua’s boots don’t crash into hers. They exchange partners again, now Oudine’s elbow locked with Wil’s and Remont’s with Joshua’s. Round and round the turning goes as Izzy ably keeps up with the orchestrion. Round and round, flashes of the lantern lights, moonlight shining off the water of the lake and dark shadows of the gazebo’s thin pillars zip past hurriedly one after another.

The lively dancing and music draws a curious crowd from the inn to the gazebo where they gather around to listen. None of the party notice as a couple or two have their own little dance at quiet corners. Others, seeing the veritable flying and twirling the Ishgardians are doing, start their own improvised reels as well, particularly some excited children infected by the dancers’ exhilaration. 

The air fills with delighted squealing and laughing over the music that keeps going, and going; strangely, every misstep, squashed toes and bump in the night is taken with no offence and much humour – because after all, what else can one expect from the rhythm of the realm?

The final frenetic minute of fiddling returns the original partners to each other, doing one last round of spinning and skipping till the orchestrion music fades, and Isillud’s violin ends on a triumphant high note. 

There’s a brief pause. 

Then, uproarious applause cracks the quiet. Startled, every one of them turns to finally realise there’s a crowd further out, hooting and hollering in appreciation.

“Encore! Encore!”

“One more! Give us another!”

“Again, again!”

Breathing hard, Remont stares at the unexpected scene, then at his sister, who can only laugh as she tries to catch her breath. Then he looks back at Isillud with a grin that could split his face in half if it got any wider. 

“Maestro, what say you?”

When Isillud lays down his violin, the song fades and applause and cheers ring in his ears. All around them are men and women of all ages cheering and clamouring for an encore. Surely they mean someone else? The orchestrion, even? The tips of his ears heat up. In front of him: Wil looking on adoringly. Joshua gives a slow clap for even he will acknowledge talent when he sees it. Oudine flush with laughter and joy, and Remont, playfully nudging him for another round. 

His chest heaves, catching his breath as he slowly turns to Wil and smiles. A smile turns into a smirk, and Wil catches the glint in emerald. The man nods. "We'll play another song," Isillud tells Remont.

He steps to the centre this time, the orchestrion silent. A bass lays the foundation, building up like glass stairs spiralling up to the moon. Wil straightens his back; a handsome voice fills the gazebo.

“Through the silent woods tonight,

I am guided by moonlight,

For the first time so alone fearing no shadow

“Like my mother before me I follow this path

Knowing love will find me…”

Oudine and Remont stare as a rich melodious tone emerges from Wil's mouth. They take a moment to exchange a shocked look, then quickly decide to handle this later. Not for nothing are they their mother's children, and time spent being surprised is time spent not dancing when there is a beautiful tune at hand.

“I'll find me a partner; best get Joshua before he runs,” says Remont with a wink. He walks lightly down from the gazebo, and it takes him only another minute to walk up to a young woman swaying with the music, and offer her his hand. 

Around them, the crowd is already moving to Isillud and Wil's duet - some are dancing a jig of their own, others have split off into duos to swirl and spin in improvised waltzes and country dances. It isn't the heart-racing tempo of the previous song, but it still takes some doing to keep time, so there's plenty of giggling and laughing as people stumble and twirl together. Those who don't opt to join the dancing stand in rapt attention, captivated by violin and vocals harmonising together so well and so fittingly.

“O wide open midnight sky, please

Carry my voice aloft

Far away where she waits

Lover's moon…” 

Oudine moves swiftly and, as she did this morning, slips her hand round Joshua's elbow. She beams at him. 

“Dance with me? We can follow our own pace.”

Joshua scans the crowd - there are so many Miqo'tes about, it would be easy to lose them if they are indeed there - that Oudine's approach surprises him. There is a flash of disappointment that turns to relief: had he been truly audacious to hope that Zeir would want to even see him? 

"I've never been taught to dance, but if you would deign to teach…" He takes her hand and leads her to the floor. He steals glances at Remont and his dance partner, keeping moves in mind to use later. Hold hand up, twirl the girl around, maybe don't lean Oudine down like that…

She catches the searching look on his face, but just smiles. “I'm no instructor, but Viscountess Philomene de Aubemarle was a dancer most prodigious in her younger days. When she found neither of her children would take to an instrument, she made sure they at least wouldn't embarrass her on the dance floor.

“‘Grace and accuracy’, she would say, ‘is secondary. Primary is partnership’.” Oudine shakes her head. “Don't ask why she doesn't apply that to her life. However we move, we move in tandem, cousin - that’s all a dance really is, whatever the style. If we stumble, we apologise, we correct, we move together again.”

She chuckles. “Also you survived Rhythm of the Realm! That was baptism by fire, you know. So come, enjoy your brother's talents.”

"That- thank you," he demurs, letting Oudine show him the ropes. 

They get into position, Oudine helping Joshua to lead her on the basic counts of four. One: left foot backward; two: step to the right; three: feet together; four: right foot forward. And on, and on, till they're in a clear waltz to the winding song. 

He stumbles remembering the order of feet, but a few repetitions gets him dancing more smoothly, simply sliding his feet along the floorboards. "Your mother must have been a very strict teacher."

“Strict…” she thinks on it then laughs a little. “Yes, rather, but it served me well as a debutante in hindsight. It made me less afraid to match steps with any lord or even a count. After all, who could be worse than Mamma?”

Meanwhile Isillud and Wil finish their acoustic duet with a flourish, prompting the audience to fill the area with applause. "Thank you, thank you and goodnight!" Wil waves to the crowd, eating up the attention. Isillud steals a chance to sit down and rest, looking for something to quench his thirst. Wil skips off, seemingly reading Isillud's mind. "I'll grab us some drinks!"

The smile Oudine gives Joshua next is apologetic. “Which reminds me of what I wished to say to you. I'm afraid I've been too much like Mamma today. I must apologise to you for being so overbearing, from my overpacking to the dancing. It's just,” she laughs sheepishly. “I've not been so at ease for awhile, not till today, so I quite forgot myself. I'm sorry, and thank you for a very lovely day, truly.” Her eyes crinkle with her grateful smile, right as the song ends and the crowd applauds.

Joshua gives a sympathetic smile of sorts. "Have you now? I didn't notice, I simply chalked it up to you being with family." He stretches his arms, then crouches to stretch his legs. "And if word reaches Ishgard of your impropriety I'm certain you'll find a way around it, no?" He tilts his head to her, his smile twisting into a schemer's. "Perhaps it is I who must learn from you, cousin."

Wil skips back with not only a bottle of wine but a pitcher of juice and a stack of glasses. In the dark his robes flap like wings, looking like an oversized thieving crow pleased with its haul. "I got us drinks! And maybe some nibbles! It was just sitting there so it must be free, right?!" 

A lalafell jogs trying to keep up with the man's long Elezen legs shouting about taking a customer's food and how they simply stepped out to the privy.

Isillud's smile withers. "Oh Twelve," he squeaks in a very tiny voice.

Oudine doesn't have time to respond to Joshua's question with anything but a laugh, when Wil returns with the - evidently - ill-begotten goods. The shouts get louder as the irate lalafell keeps insisting on the depravity of young people these days and how a decent person just couldn't sit down to a nice meal without some uncivilised individual swiping it all.

She looks around quickly, but there is no tall chestnut-haired Elezen with an easy grin and a merry laugh to be seen or heard anywhere.

“Do you want to take this one, or shall I?” She murmurs to Joshua. “Because my darling brother seems to have gone missing in the dancing, Fury take him.”

"Izzy always says I have to learn, so I'd best do it." Joshua straightens his shirt and smooths his hair, walking past Wil and kneeling respectfully to the lalafell. "Sir, I apologise for the misunderstanding, my friend is rather simple-minded in his desire to entertain." He motions to the group. "Would you care to join some Ishgardian nobles for some light conversation? We'll share the cost, of course."

The invitation to hobnob with some titled people along with a shared cost of food is a sweet deal and the lalafell accepts, sitting down along with the group. "Torim Polorim, on a business visit from Limsa. I must say this is an unexpected development."

Oudine follows her cousin’s lead, sitting politely and pouring a glass of wine out for their new companion. She offers a conciliatory smile. 

“I’m Oudine, of Ishgard. Forgive us our high spirits, sir; it is most kind of you to allow us to join you in these circumstances.” She tilts her head curiously. “May I ask what your trade is?” 

"Nothing remarkable, simply trading foodstuffs to and from Gridania. Limsa supplies the seafood, Gridania supplies the vegetables, and together we are all nourished! What about you folks, are you in trade too?"

Joshua starts, "Aye, my trade is between Garlemald and Dalmasca. Say what you will about the Garleans but their magitek products do bring convenience when used for good."

Torim nods. "That's quite the niche trade though I applaud your initiative. Your missus must live well."

Joshua blinks. "Who?" Then stares at Oudine.

Oudine doesn't miss the look. Several responses run like lightning through her mind, one after the next. Amongst them is the mature - and frankly kind - option. It should behoove her, who had just apologised for being too much like the Dowager, to do the correct thing.

On the other hand, she's on holiday, she's with family, and she's been dancing, which means the adrenaline hasn't quite left her body. Also, didn't he say it himself: he has to learn. Is this not an opportune moment to practise graceful conversation?

So she merely smiles demurely, picks up the pitcher of juice and pours out a glass carefully. Then she holds it out to her cousin, still smiling though there is a slight twitch to the corner of her mouth. “Here, Joshua.”

Isillud presses a finger to Wil's mouth. "Shh," he whispers.

Joshua is at a loss: between his brother's silence, Remont's absence and Oudine doing…that means it falls on him to respond.

He plucks the glass from her and drinks. "Thank you, cousin."

The lalafell nearly falls out of his seat. "Oh! M-my apologies, I-"

But Joshua interrupts him, "An honest mistake many have made, sir, and no wonder given how close we are. Perhaps I should consider it, hm?" at the last part he winks to Oudine.

Oudine presses her lips together - the wink is unfair. She places a hand on her chest, affecting surprise. 

“Now, my lord, I must ask you to tread carefully - we are, as my brother always says, distant cousins. And amongst the highborn Ishgardian houses, that isn't any very real impediment to matrimony. Though you ought to consider it extra carefully when you think of precisely who would be your mother-in-law.” 

She looks at the lalafell merchant with an amused smile. “But perhaps I might trouble you for an outside opinion, Mr Polorim. Do you think we would make a good match? I would ask for my other cousin as well, but he is already quite well spoken for.” 

Oudine’s whole attention now turns to Torim. If she looks at anyone else, she is likely to fall apart laughing.

"W, well, I must say familial matters are entirely out of my jurisdiction,  being a humble merchant," Torim stammers, clearing his throat very loudly, "I can only say that whoever your match is, they are certainly fortunate to have someone as beautiful and good-natured as you, Miss."

Joshua pours the lalafell another drink, serving the bottle along with it. "And they would certainly be, indeed, regardless of her mother's opinion. Thank you Mr Polorim for your answer; if not Oudine's heart then mine is certainly at ease." 

A slouched back, an easy smile, relief in his voice to assure nothing wrong was said and no harm was done. Soon the matter is forgotten and it is time to retire for the night, as they bid goodbye to their new acquaintance.

Joshua looks for Remont, leading Oudine to the Bobbing Cork. "Do you think he'll be using his room tonight?"

For the first time that day, she grimaces, for her brother's conduct and the inconvenience it has caused. “I'm sorry to say I can't tell. If his plans go awry, it'll serve him right to spend the night out in the cold for abandoning us like this. Though he'll say Tailfeather is worse.”

She shakes her head as they near the warmly lit building. “Don't worry about him, cousin. He can take care of himself. And I will personally box his ears the moment I see him tomorrow morning for this rudeness.”

Oudine pauses then looks at him sideways with a smile. “You know, Joshua, if you keep this up, there'll not be just a few caps set for you. Best be careful around the matchmaking mammas when we return to Ishgard.”

The young Elezen wants to say something, but stops himself. This is what he's worked so hard for, isn't it? "I hope so, House Losstarot needs an heir." Isillud says nothing, piercing green eyes searching his brother for matters unsaid.

Oudine smiles helplessly. “Heirs are at least three steps ahead. I was rather hoping you might find someone who suits you first.”

"Well I was going to spend the night under the eaves-" Wil mentions it so cheerfully until Isillud places a gloved hand over his mouth. "You will stay with me tonight."

Joshua steps in front of them with a terrorising smile. "No, you two will stay with me tonight. I have a spare bed and it won't do to spend gil on an extra one."

"I don't think-"

"You. Stay. With. Me. Tonight." Joshua insists through gritted teeth.

"...Very well." Isillud mutters, storming darkly past them to the counter.

Joshua nods and gives Oudine a thumbs up. "He'll get over it."

“Oh,” she says quickly, seeing the disgruntled stalk Isillud does past them, “please, at least let me pay for the rooms. I did agree to stay as well. And I made Rem bring extra shirts, so if you need one, they're…” 

She starts. A horrible blush rises, as she's suddenly reminded of the absolute absurdity of bringing a change of clothes for herself and her brother on what she had expected to be just a day out. In Remont's case, because she had fully expected him to be drenched in a river of some kind: two changes of clothes. 

“Um, I… I will… go… Izzy, wait!” she darts for the counter, trying to flee her embarrassment.

Joshua is left behind with Wil, of all people. Neither know what to do with each other as they both helplessly watch Oudine make Isillud accept her offer of hospitality. Not that it was a bad thing, they simply weren't that close.

Isillud puts up a hand: stern but gentle. "We invited you, Oudine. The clothes are…of no import." He signs off the register and motions to a concierge to take his cousin to her room. "We'll let you know if Remont returns first thing in the morning."

Oudine concedes when she sees the look in his eyes. Gentleman that Isillud is, the uncommon  insistence from him should not be disobeyed.

She bows to him, and to Joshua and Wil from a distance. “Thank you, cousins, Wil. Goodnight, and pleasant dreams to you all.”

The concierge leads her upstairs to a good-sized, clean, and unfussy room. The luggage is already within, all sitting to the side, making way for a bed with a dressing table against a wall. (A spare bed, she is relieved to note, would fit just fine.)

A washstand, complete with towel, enamel basin and a large metal can stand beside it. Opposite the bed is a fireplace, but no flame or fire crystal sit within - a slight surprise to her Ishgardian sensibilities. 

With her thanks, she tips the concierge an amount of gil for their service. She is duly left alone to divest herself of her boots and outer layers, stripping all the way to her chemise beneath since it's actually warm enough to do so.

It only just occurs to her then, as she pours out warm water into the basin to wash her face, what a day it's been. How much has she learned?

Joshua was once sickly, and his guardian had been an Ala Mhigan woman. He can imitate an Ala Mhigan voice to perfection. He wields an axe, but wishes for a different weapon. He takes care of Izzy in his own way. He can dance, given time. He speaks bluntly, till his hand is forced.

Isillud can't really eat seafood or meat, but takes to vegetables. He has a (very) foreign lover. He plays the violin very well. He never did dance, in the end. He speaks less often but with a layer more of… caution (most times).

Sydney is alive. And in Radz-at-han with his daughter.

Oudine pauses a little while she pats her face dry with the clean towel. 

In spite of their mysterious circumstances – the way Joshua's eyes looked before she'd asked him to dance, the sound of Isillud's voice in the boat, the shared looks when Wil turned up – they have been frank in many degrees. And kind, in a lot of others. 

To have been trusted with as much insight as she has, from those who’ve had no reason to like, much less trust, any Ishgardian, is a privilege.

She lets out a breath. “I think you would have liked them, Papa,” she murmurs. She smiles a little. “Especially Wil.”

Oudine continues her routine. Without her lady's maid, it takes far longer to unpin her hair and brush it all out. By the time she tumbles into the very soft bed, her mind is hazy enough to dissolve into almost-instant sleep. Her very last thought is of Remont.

Be careful, you wretch.

~*~

"It's a good thing Oudine thought to bring a change of clothes," Joshua says as he hangs his shirt over a chair, "I should have had the foresight to be as prepared as her." 

Isillud, however, has no problem throwing his clothes in a heap at the foot of his side of the bed. "I think it is a thing with women. They're always prepared for anything." Wil meanwhile grabs pillows and arranges the bed like it's a nest. "Physically and mentally, she seems to know what to say or do."

"You get wiser with age," Wil says, settling in the folds of blankets and pillows with a contented sigh, "You'll both get there."

"Speak for yourself," Joshua retorts, "You're the one storming in as a human to take your fish back," he laughs snidely, "As if being taller would help, hah."

Wil pouts, sinking his head under his pillow. Isillud pulls the covers aside to snuggle in with Wil. "To his credit he drank almost all of the fish soup so I'd count it as a win." Despite sharing a bed meant for one Isillud and Wil manage with a lot of adjusting where do the long limbs go until he is in Wil's embrace. 

Joshua pulls the blankets up to his neck. "I will not hear a peep from either of you tonight, do I make myself clear?"

"The sooner you sleep, the less you'll hear," Isillud mumbles from the crook of Wil's neck.

"I mean it! Hands where I can see them!"

-

Onto Part 4

Special shoutouts about this part:

Strangers being drawn to music and breaking into spontaneous happy dancing in the town square/outside the gazebo is MY JAM

Everything about Izzy's violin playing and Wil's beautiful warbling singing is brilliance, and @escherstrange-ffxiv is wonderful for producing the moment

Joshua being an absolute lil' shite (WOMEN - Joshua please)

[d3mon-ology]

𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝚄𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙲𝙳𝙸𝙲𝙺'𝚂 𝙾𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙽𝚃 & 𝟾 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴 𖤐 ࿐ྀུ

[ PT. 1 ] A scene from the project FOR THE BIRDS. 2023 Birdie and Santo are on their commute to Birdie's place of employment, McDonald's.

PROJECT: For The Birds— A poetry-prose story told from multiple perspectives of how a time-traveling, femme-leaning bisexual ends the world in 2023. [ portions of this were also written into a prologue one-shot for the 1x1 STRAY CATS ]

THE BIRDIES — 2023

Birdie’s temple was pressed into her fist, recalling the cross-eyed look on her mother’s face from the evening before. This was why she woke up late.

To the right of the idling FJ60 “Land Cruiser” sat slumped a car wash’s marquee sign. It read “Small Wins Add Up,” and Birdie gave it a once-over.

It was a stupid, useless sign. Still, she found herself smiling, imagining some man with a hump on his back who’s spent the past forty years at this fuckin’ car wash. He worked his way up to owning the joint, and in the midst of all the world’s sewage, the general B.S., and his crappy life, he’d thought it was worth it to remind everyone, especially himself, that it wasn’t all bullshit. That his crappy life equated to something quite lovely.

Instead, Birdie was insulted. 

❝Look at that,❞ Santo said to break the silence of their morning commute. 

❝Yeah. Guess they were feelin’ positive.❞ 

❝Maybe.❞ He shrugged minutely and pulled a vapor rip from his Breeze. The smell of synthetic fruity pebbles filled the car. He had this habit of holding it like a cigarette. It was one of his goofier and more charming traits, the kind that tended to catch Birdie off guard.

As they passed a strip mall, Santo asked, ❝Hear about the Burger Kings closing?❞

She shook her head.

❝400 employees.❞

❝Shit.❞

She frowned in a temporary way that showed she wasn’t able to think about shit like that right now.

❝Another Norfolk-Southern crash too.❞ 

❝Oh yeah? Where?❞

❝Just a coupla miles from here.❞

❝Oh.❞

❝Yeah.❞

Birdie yawned but said nothing else. Seconds became longer and intolerable, stretching and condensing.

Finally, “Did you hear about what happened in Florida?❞

❝What’s that?” 

❝Like with Ron DeSantis? The photos of him in drag?❞

❝Yeah?❞ 

❝Yeah.❞ 

❝Cool, I guess.❞

❝Really?❞ 

Silence settled as Birdie looked cautiously before making her left turn. Santo coughed and asked, ❝You goin’ to the baby shower on Saturday?❞ 

She looked at him bleakly before flipping back at the road. The baby shower was for the daughter of a friend of her mom and his dad. It was celebrations like these that had brought Santo and Birdie back from the brink before.

❝Maybe.❞ 

He nodded and fiddled with the bottom of his lip. A horn honked and she didn’t flinch. Still, he watched her and waited for her to say something other than the tepid response she’d given to a very simple question. 

Birdie sighed and filled the silence. ❝I know you've gone cold-turkey on your fam 'cause of what your dad said, but I'm giving Torro a hug and a kiss anyways.❞ There was a non-verbal cue she sent with this statement. She wanted to know how he felt about his sister being there.

❝Tell her I said hi.❞ His voice was smooth and pitched low.

He was being unfair to her.

She was being unfair to him.

He didn't see what was right in front of him.

She didn't see what was right in front of her.

Her nails itched at her temple, and he noted the achy look to her strict jaw. A crumpling sound filled the silence as Santo scratched his scalp.

He asked, ❝So are you gonna talk about what’s botherin’ you?❞

❝Am I really that obvious?❞ There was an illusion of a joke based on her quick scoff, but he knew better. 

He smiled all the same, as he tended to do when he ticked her off. ❝I woke up to you kicking your boots around and yelling at me to get up.❞

❝Don’t bum it on my couch then, if it’s such an issue.❞ 

At this next red light, she sat up straighter, gripped the wheel tighter, and set her brows in a wobbly line. She tried not looking at him but at the road instead.

❝Don’t be like that.❞ It came out as a melodramatic whimper, but it caught her attention enough for her brown eyes to meet his. 

He leaned over, so casual, and pressed his pointer finger down onto the bunched up middle where her brows met. It moved with a gentleness that was ill fitting on him to anyone else who knew him.

Ronnie’s seen him do this once or twice, especially as of late. She and Birdie had moved in together, Santo sticking to the dorms because that’s what his scholarship paid for. They’d taken to these “Hermit Crab Parties” where the three of them would get high together and spend a lazy night-in. Since these evenings first came to be, there was a small fear that began within Santo — that perhaps he was on the way out. The pair (Santo and Birdie) knew of this fear, had been dancing around the Ronnie-shaped weight developing above them. They’d been avoiding certain strains, like this type of touch, as a result. 

The first time Ronnie was a witness to this affectionate act, her unending gaze narrowed, and her pupils became the seeds of concern, doubt, and a little something like envy. Ronnie always looks at people intensely, but when she saw Santo commit himself fully to this act of affection, and so easily too, she watched him with careful curiosity. It was the first time she acted concerned for Birdie, for Santo a bit too, and she preferred not to leave them alone whenever she could. For Birdie, there was a constant reminder that the situation, the friendship, would boil down to whether or not she could say anything to Ronnie, to Josie, and to Santo about what any of these sweetnesses meant. Birdie couldn’t, though. She was just trying to get up in the morning and to get to work in one piece.

The truth that Birdie is keenly aware of is that Ronnie isn’t a girl outside of Santo’s reach. Birdie knew this yesterday, as he so casually pushed back against what was bothering her. Birdie knew it this morning. Birdie has known it ever since Ronnie saw him touch her face and learned that Santo was a worthy boy. Birdie will not do anything about this though. 

We do not judge this Birdie for being selfish.

She wants to keep his little idiosyncrasies, his secrets, and his darkly intimate thoughts to herself. Santo, the unknowable. Santo, Birdie’s closest friend. These facts are seemingly contradictory. The three of them have never been that kind to each other in the years since Ronnie came to Michigan, at least not overtly. None of them could stomach it. Whatever they did to care about each other, they did it discreetly. 

Naturally, it is addicting to keep Ronnie and all their other friends wondering what, about homely ‘ole Birdie, merited such uncharacteristic sweetness. It is addicting to have it be so discreet that Birdie and Santo long ago ate each other’s souls and learned all there is to know. It is addicting to have this fact bleed out over time and to watch it to melt away what seemed so contradictory. It is addicting to the point where Birdie has to hide it because it is too close to the giddiness that Jacqueline gave, the kindness her mother shows, the prize that Josie promises, the loyalty Ronnie offers, or the safety her father gave. It is addicting to wake up and know, almost certainly, that there is someone there when she gets up in the morning.

We do not judge this Birdie for being selfish. 

We want her to eat every soul. 

We want her to end the world.

Most all, we want change.

BIRDIE — 2023

I looked at Santo softly as he smoothed the knitted, knotted place my brows met. “You’ve had this scowl on your face since I woke up this morning,” he murmured.

The light changed. My head snapped forward. His hand, with dried cracks filled with oil from his hours spent working on his bike, remained in the air. His eyes lingered, like his hand. I shrugged and smiled a thin line.

❝I got a shit critique on my midterm for my Oils class.❞ 

❝Hm.❞ He dug out some gunk from his nails. ❝That sucks.❞

I nodded, throat velvet and heavy, and gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. He stopped watching me drive and looked out the window instead. 

(This was why Ronnie didn’t leave them alone.)

❝The one who keeps giving you all that trouble?❞

I nodded. ❝I don’t think he likes me❞ I scrunch my nose. ❝Or whatever.❞

He laughed. ❝And why’s that?❞

❝I sent him an email once, explaining my artistic thesis.❞

A chuckle. ❝And what’s that?❞

❝To make something that is out of the ordinary, thus eliciting something out of the ordinary.❞

He was still laughing. ❝You’re kidding, right?❞

❝Shut up. I know it’s dumb❞

❝No, no. I think it’s cool, but you also sound like you were higher than a kite. I know I’m not smart, but to me its like word soup.❞

❝Exactly. He thinks I’m fake with no technical skill.❞

❝What I mean is he isn’t thinking that deeply about you.❞

I reached over, pawing for his hand, but he handed me his vape, either not understanding or unwilling to give me what I wanted. I chucked it back at him, dropping it in his lap. 

Instead, rolling down the window and plucking an American Spirit from my pack, I lit up and took a drag. 

Finally, throat raw, I asked, ❝But isn’t that worse?❞

A breeze trickled in, undulating with spring. The weather was so uncharacteristically lovely, I’d forgotten it was February. The air was chilled but tempered by the sun, which bore down and gave the world that fresh smell that laundry soap could only imitate. I had taken a deep breath because that type of air tends to energize my soul and set my dopamine receptors on fire. Instead of making me feel alive, my brain thought about ending things before it got worse. This morning, I woke up to snow, reinforcing the feeling from yesterday that something was wrong. I knew this though, so I let the feeling pass like a ship in the night, the way my therapist taught me to.

Santo brought up a different, needlesome boat. ❝What? You want him to be out for you?❞

❝Maybe.❞

We pulled into the McDonald's parking lot.

This was why Ronnie didn’t leave us alone.

graphic is by me. center image from Sir! Magazine (1957), background image from Tumblr.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban. 

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door. 

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it. 

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes. 

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said. 

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said. 

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said. 

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head. 

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said. 

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances. 

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned. 

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled. 

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile. 

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen. 

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake. 

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked. 

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[agentofscifi]

Success is the Best Kind of Revenge Ch. 3

Heels click onto the floor of my office as Chloe pushes open my doors. My hands were currently holding up the train of a dress hung on Juleka. Alix follows after Chloe, tinkering with some kind of camera in her hand. Over the years, as we all graduated from University and done pretty well for ourselves.  

Juleka ended up changing her major in school after three semesters. Instead of going into performing arts for instruments, she went and got a composition degree. Juleka wrote music for a variety of artists and was one of the most sought-after songwriters. When she wasn’t doing all of that, she was modeling for my company. Juleka did a variety of photoshoots for several companies, mine included throughout her University Years. After I opened up my first few stores, we signed a formal contract. She’d been working for me for almost a decade. She split her time between Paris and Nashville in America. 

Alix decides to focus on a degree in art history. She worked at an Auction House company in Paris, moving between the various countries of Europe to authenticate pieces of art and then handle their sales. She was rather successful at her work, earning many bonuses for rather extremely successful sales. Alix’s unique style and comfortable professionalism made her easily approachable to buyings. She was rather blunt, and it did her well in her job. On her off-hours, Alix did some minor modeling and promoting much of my athletic pieces. Alix’s popularity grew as she competed in several X-Games in and after university. She won several titles in skateboarding, BMX freestyling, rollerskating, and snowboarding before retiring after a slip-up when snowboarding. She shattered her kneecap, broke a leg, her collarbone, and dislocated her arm in two places. She still did BMX biking, skateboarding, rollerblading, and snowboarding, just not in a professional capacity. That being said, little kids still asked for her autographs all the time.  

Chloe graduated from the London Business School with Honors and then proceeded to attend the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York to get a Graduate Degree in Global Fashion Management. She modeled some of my designs, worked connections, handled all my brand’s social media accounts, and finalized contracts. Now, she had several people working underneath her, to handle the day-to-day operations. Either way, Chloe handled all of the Brand’s business dealings and flourishes.  

As for me, I attend the London College of Fashion. I got a Bachelor’s Degree in Fashion Design and Development with honors. After those years, I went to Milan to attend Istituto Marangoni International for a Master’s Degree in Luxury Accessories Design & Management. After that, I relocated back to Paris. My first boutique opened up quickly after that along with a small factory with a loan from a bank. I ended up having to open a second factory within three months due to demands. More boutiques opened up worldwide as the Brand became a household name.  

“Hello Chloe, how is everything?”  

“We got invitations to a reunion for Lycée. Alya sent them, as she was the class representative when we all graduated. Personally, I think she wants to get her hands on you or Juleka for an interview. You know her journalism career is in the gutter.”  

Alix snorts. “And who’s fault is that?” 

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Her’s. The idiot ruined her blog when she was a teenager and she never changed. She still does idiotic and frankly dangerous things to get a scoop. Sure, she does some basic research now, but the girl’s been detained several times for endangering people and disrupting the peace. No University would touch her, and no place will hire her.”  

Alix looks up from the camera. “So, you didn’t inform everyone in the fashion journalism world about her history, knowing it would spread to all major news and journalism networks.  

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Look, this company’s image is important. I was not going to let Miss Blogger ruin it for 15 minutes of fame. She dug her own grave.”  

I sigh. “This is great and all, but are you all going?”  

There’s a snort right behind me. “Not on any of our lives. We will not be sinking that low.”  

“Chloe!” Juleka’s face is red and slightly scandalized.  

“What? Why would we go to this reunion? To see how everyone is doing? It’s rather simple. Alya’s a tabloid writer. Nino is a barely successful DJ who works at a music store to help pay his bills. Max is an IT guy at a company. That fake research paper haunts him to this day. Kim works at a gym. The drugs screwed his athletic chances over and he never planned for anything beyond going to the Olympics. Nathaniel works at an art store and does nighttime classes. He’s unsuccessfully worked with 7 different writers for his comics after leaving Marc.   

Now, Myléne and Ivan are happy, at least. Myléne works as a secretary and Ivan as a grocery store manager. Both are part-time so one of them can stay home with their kids at a time. They have millions of photos of their family on their Instagram accounts. Neither one can do much with charities. The fraud they committed was spread around the charity communities fast.  

Rose, Adrien, and Sabrina are the only ones who did what they wanted to do. Rose had a few years of fame with her music before getting married and settling down as a youth music teacher. Adrien moved to America and works for a University. However, I know for a fact that he will not be returning to Paris for anything less than a funeral or a wedding. As for Sabrina, after some therapy, ended up as a Detective in Marseille.”  

“Didn’t you pay for her therapy?” I tie off my last stitch and let the train fall to the platform.  

Chloe purses her lips. “I owed her that much. I screwed her childhood up, majorly.”  

“Did you stalk everyone to find out all of this?” Alix has a mischievous look.  

Another eye roll from Chloe. “I didn’t need to. In this day and age, all you need to do is type their name into the internet and all of their social media pops up.”  

I hum. “What about Lila?”  

“She’s still in prison. Tried another appeal a little while ago, to no avail. Her long list of offenses and the “assisting a terrorist” change isn’t something any judge would want to touch, even with a 10 ft pole.”  

Juleka simply shrugs. “Back to the point at hand. I’m not going to this reunion. Rose is the only one I wanted to keep in contact with, and she’s not going. It’s her five-year anniversary with her husband. She’s going to Spain that week.”  

Alix shugs. “I’m not going either. Kim has tried to contact me so many times to help him get back into the sports world. I am not giving him another chance. Besides, there’s this huge auction going on in Russia for that week. I am not missing that for a few hours with our childhood classmates.”  

I look at Chloe. She raises a perfect eyebrow. “Not a chance and you are not going either. Heavens forbid Alya posts something on that new blog of hers.”  

I set my needle and thread down on a work table and gesture to Juleka to get changed. “I’m not going if none of you are. Besides, there’s this fashion show in Milan that weekend. It’s for freshly graduated designers to show off their talents to possible employers. I was planning to go to find some who would specialize in Fashion Contour. I’ve been doing quite a bit of work in that field and want to get a fresh pair of eyes that will eventually take over that area of our brand. I was also hoping to look for someone to start a Make-up department. One of your people mentioned the idea at a meeting.”  

Chloe nods and starts to type into her phone. “I’ll tell my assistant to look through the applications we have to see if anyone fulfills the requirements for that job. Just find that new department head.”  

I give Chloe a nod as Juleka hands me the dress from before. A custom-made wedding dress for a woman who happened to be Juleka’s exact size. One of the many I had made of the years since I’d started my fashion business.   

Some part of me wanted to thank Lila. If I was honest with myself, I wouldn’t be where I was if she hadn’t arrived at my class and taken everyone’s loyalty. They weren’t bad people, but thanks to Ms. Bustier, they were a drain on my energy and abilities. Now, however, I was one of the most well-known and successful fashion designers with over two dozen people for me in Design. I could not be happier. 

Ch. 1 ~~~~~ Ch. 2

[punderfulowl]

Top 10 Anime (That I've Seen) in 2020

Well now, it has certainly been awhile. I'm currently sitting at eight months too late for posting this, but, y'know, something something life happens. More accurately, I already made this list, but wanted to try out what response I'd get from Reddit. Turns out, they're not as cool as you guys!

Anyways, as the title states, this is not a list of my favorite anime that came out during 2020, but instead my favorite anime that I just so happen to see during that year. While it's fun to have an end of the year retrospective, I find that having a list in this format not only adds variety, but also helps bring attention to anime that might have been lost in the shuffle in previous years (I also don't have enough time to stay caught up in seasonal releases).

Honorable mentions:

Aggretsuko S3, My Hero Academia S4, Today's Menu For the Emiya Family, Interspecies Reviewers (yes, really), and I Couldn't Become a Hero So I Reluctantly Decided to Get a Job

10. Maid-Sama (2010)

In hindsight, I find it a bit funny that I wanted to watch something wholesome to kick off 2020. Anyway, Maid-Sama is about a high school girl that is also a no nonsense Class President and she kind of has to be at a school where, until recently, was an all boys school. While she kills it in academics and is good at shutting down any shenanigans from the male student body, her financial situation isn't the greatest and has to balance a job at a maid cafe along with her school-related responsibilities. She does her best to hide her employment there to keep up appearances, but is one day found out by one of the boys who happens to be a big flirt and, yeah, hijinks ensue. While this anime doesn't have too many surprises, our main leads bounce off each other well enough to keep me entertained. Nothing I haven't seen already in other anime Rom-Coms, but I think it has more than earned its place at the start of this list.

9. Haganai NEXT (2013)

It's a personal rule of mine when making these lists that I don't include sequels of shows that were in previous lists. While I DID see the first season of Haganai a couple of years ago, it didn't quite make it into the top ten at that time. Because of that, it meets the criteria for this year's list. While I found the characters were just as charming here as I did during the first season, the development of their relationships really took off. It's a shame that it will most likely not get a third season, but I'm happy with what ride this show gave me. But hey! At least I can read the light novels/manga to continue the story! Wait, nevermind, the Haganai fans on Reddit are saying that's a bad idea.

8. Engaged to the Unidentified (2014)

Based off of a Four Panel joke manga, Engaged to the Unidentified tells the story of a girl in high school suddenly getting some life changing news. As it turns out, her grandfather made an arranged engagement with her and the son of a family he knew. Next thing she knows, the boy in question, as well as his little sister, moves into her family's house! While the boy is unassuming at first, there may be more to him and his family than he lets on. Plain and simple, this anime has charmed me. There's a decent amount of drama and mystery despite the source material and I applaud it! Even though this also doesn't have much new to offer, even to the point where I would compare this to Maid-Sama, what made me pick this at the 8th spot were the color choices and animation quality. Give this a shot if you can!

7. Grimoire of Zero (2017)

It's a fantasy/adventure story starring a loli sorcerer and a huge, anthropomorphic white tiger man. I honestly can't say anything else. I won't be able to do it justice. That first sentence should intrigue you a lease a little bit. Read it, again. Please check it out. It's an underrated gem that no one is talking about.

6. ID: Invaded (2020)

Hey, here's something recent! Unfortunately, this is also not something I can say much about. There may not be too many deep characters and the secret bad guy isn't hard to figure out, but BOY is this anime cool! The best way to describe this series is that it's like the movie Inception, but instead of brain heists, it's brain murder mysteries.

5. Carole and Tuesday (2019)

A runaway rich girl has a fated meeting with an orphan and they decide to make music together...oh, this also takes place Mars. Joking aside, this show was something special with its music (a new song almost every episode no less), interesting setting (freaking Mars, dude), and endearing main cast. Shoot, the music itself would be top 3, maybe number 1, but what bogs it down is the show's second half. I can easily see myself watching this again someday, and maybe my opinion will lighten up, but for now, 5 is a dang good spot.

4. Fate/Grand Order: Absolute Demonic Front - Babylonia (2019)

Part of me hesitates placing this high up on list due to this show being animated, fan service spectacle for Fate fans. However, that hesitation is overshadowed by the fact that I am a Fate fan myself and I can do whatever I want with this list. Even if you're not a Fate fan or play FGO, if you enjoy some solid fight animation, this is worth a look.

3. K-On S1 (2009)

I'll admit it, I might regret not watching the second season then putting the series on the list as a whole, but this how I've been doing these lists and I'm such a creature of habit. There's not much I can say about K-On that hasn't already been said. By itself it's an anime classic and one of Kyo-ani's biggest properties. It's a sweet and wholesome watch, but be sure to have some insulin within reach.

2. Princess Principal (2017)

Imagine you're working with a team of programmers trying to make a mobile game then all of a sudden someone asks to make a show out of it. You know, a show with different character motivations, plot, twist and turns and all that? Most might say that's just a shameless, shallow cash grab, but it turns out okay for Princess Principal. Sure, most might summarize this anime as, "cute girls doing espionage things," but with its cast, visuals, and interesting alternative timeline, it works! Apparently there's a new season or movie in the works and I am all for it!

1. Beastars (2019)

I was not expecting this to be number one, but with much deliberation (with myself obviously) this feels right. It tells a pretty unique story while showing itself to be the exception to the rule when it comes to 3D anime.....it being that it's actually good. While I acknowledge that shows like K-On are classics and deserves to be number one on many different lists, it didn't line up with my personal criteria like Beastars did. My biggest deciding factor is: Now that I've watched this, do I want more? It's true that while I'm excited to start K-On S2, Beastars intrigues me more and ever since season two was announced, I'm looking forward to that more.

Sorry again for this list being so late, but at least the silver lining is that the next end of the year list is about four months away (in theory)!

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 3: Lust, Actually

Links to: Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2 Chpt. 4

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Jealous!Din, swearing, sexual arousal, mixed signals

Word Count: ~6300

Summary: Din starts to be more aware of his attraction and maybe feelings for you. Also, he takes you and the child to a lake for a few days of relaxation.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Din’s perspective. Just to clarify my writing in general, when I use Din it means it’s his thoughts, but when I use Mando, it’s your thoughts. Also, I hope you like Din being a bit of an exhibitionist here, because I think, given the chance, he’d enjoy showing off for you.

“Welcome back, Mando!” Din feels his heartbeat skip at your cheerful greeting. You always seem so happy to see him when he returns, giving him that wide smile, your eyes lighting up. You’re holding the child and you come over to him, saying “Somebody missed you while you were gone!”

Din knows you mean the kid, but he’d like to know that you missed him too, even though he knows he shouldn’t be thinking like that. He doesn’t want to admit to himself how much he’s been looking forward to seeing your pretty face again. He pushes his thoughts about you aside as you hand him the little one and he focuses his attention on greeting his foundling instead. “Did you have a good time here in Cloud City, buddy?”

“I’d say he had a great time,” you reply, “He loved playing in the big indoor park with all of the other children.” You and the child have been staying in Cloud City for about a week, while Din tracked down a bounty. It had been a particularly tricky job, but at least it was well paying, which meant he was looking forward to being able to take a break for a few days. He tickles the child under his chin getting him to giggle. Maybe he’ll take you all to Crucival, he remembers it has some pretty grasslands that you’ll both probably enjoy. Should be nice, give everyone a chance for some fresh air.

“I have all our things ready to go, but we just need to stop in at the café a few doors down to collect our dinner and say goodbye.” You tell Din, gesturing to your small pile of bags.

“Say goodbye to who?” He asks.

“Riva, the owner of the café,” you explain, “The green bean here just loves the meat pies from there. We’ve been there every day. I ordered a few to take with us.”

Din nods in response and hands the child back to you so he can collect the bags. He shakes his head at your protests that you can carry something and just gestures for you to go ahead. You’re so cute when you think he needs help. Din follows you to the aforementioned café and sees a handsome man greet you and the child enthusiastically. Apparently, this is Riva. Din feels his jaw clench involuntarily and his stomach feels hot. He tries to ignore it though as you’re turning toward him with a hand extended as you say, “Mando, come meet Riva.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mando.” Riva reaches out his hand in greeting. Din gives it a brief shake but saying nothing in response. It doesn’t seem to bother Riva, as he can’t keep his eyes off you and he turns back to say, “I’ll miss you two around here. You’ve been a real bright spot in my day.”

“Thank you,” you respond with a smile, “It’s been nice getting to know you. Oh, and thank you for the recipe, I know it will keep the little guy happy.” Din wonders if the meat pies are the only reason you’ve been coming to this café every day. He tries not to thinks about how much time you’ve probably spent visiting with Riva. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, you’re leaving now with him, and besides, why should he care who you spend your time with as long as the child is taken care of and safe.

“We should get going,” Din says and he decides to reach forward and place a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course.” You respond, “Wave bye-bye,” you tell the baby and you making waving motions to prompt him. Din moves his hand down to the small of your back and presses lightly in a gesture meant to get you to turn and walk with him. He’s pleased when you follow his movements; he likes that it shows you’re in sync with him.

“Have a safe journey! Maybe I’ll see you again soon?” Riva says hopefully.

“Maybe,” you reply with a small glance back.

“Not if I can help it,” Din says under his breath. You turn your head towards Din and for a moment, he thinks you heard his comment. But you say nothing and just continue on, letting him lead you towards the landing platform where the Razor Crest is parked. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk, knowing that it’s a small excuse to touch you without raising any questions.

Maker! He shouldn’t look forward to it as much as he does, but he really enjoys it when he has an excuse to touch you. Maybe you’ll be interested in practicing more self-defense techniques these next few days. Not only will it be a valuable skill for you to have, but also, he knows it means you’ll be in close proximity to him and there’s a good chance he’ll get to feel your body against his again. He’s embarrassed to admit even to himself the number of daydreams he’s had about being free to touch you without an excuse. Many of these daydreams are so innocent, things like running his fingers over your hair, holding your hand while you’re seated next to him, or embracing you when he returns from a hunt. Din sighs as he mulls over these thoughts. I am being pathetic and probably creepy too.

It doesn’t help things that the lines between being your employer and being your friend seem to be blurring every day. He chalks it up to living with you and the casual intimacy that comes with it. Something as simple as seeing you in your pajamas or knowing the exact scent of your soap has allowed him to know more about you than a typical employer might. Then there’s the odd sense of pride from knowing that he provides for you, and not just that he pays your salary, but that he provides you with a home and food. It’s similar to the feeling he had when he protected you from that creep in the marketplace a few weeks ago. Not that he had needed to do much, but the satisfaction he had from showing you how capable he was at keeping you safe was a new emotion that he didn’t quite recognize but was eager to feel again.  

“So, what’s the next stop?” Your question brings Din out of his reverie. You’ve settled into the co-pilot’s chair after securing the child in his own seat.

“Crucival. I have some time to take a break for the next few days, and I figured you’d like one too.” Din tells you of his plan.

“Oh good! I know the kiddo will be happy to get to spend some time with you. Plus, I’d love a few hours to myself.” You sound eager for the opportunity. “Not that I don’t adore you, buddy,” you look over and reassure the child.

“I also thought I could teach you some additional self-defense tactics,” Din mentions casually, “If you’d like.”

“Oh, uh, sure, if you think so,” you say, “But, um, we don’t have to practice shooting moving targets, do we?”

“I was thinking more hand-to-hand fighting. Nothing too strenuous, just some key moves to help you get out of a bad situation.” He explains. Din can tell the idea of shooting a moving target really bothers you and he knows he’ll need to think of a clever way to help you become more comfortable with the idea.

“Ok, yeah, that would be good.” You offer him a small shrug. It’s not the enthusiastic response he was hoping for but at least you didn’t say no.

“There’s also a nice lake there I thought we could visit.” Din tells you thinking of another place that you and the child might enjoy seeing.

“Ooh! Do you think we can go swimming?” Now your tone is full of enthusiasm and you’re smiling at the prospect of a lake visit.

“Sure, if the weather is nice.” He’s pleased you sound so excited. Din’s not sure why he feels this need to make you happy, but each time he does, he knows he wants to do it again. Perhaps it’s just the way you seem to appreciate everything that he does, even trivial actions can bring a smile to your face and a warm ‘thank you’ from your lips. It’s not like other people don’t appreciate his work, but there’s something that feels different when you thank him, like it means so much to you.

“Tell me more about what you two did in Bespin.” Din likes hearing you talk about your time with the child.

“Well, I told you we went to the park; he liked going down the slide and playing in the sandbox there. Plus, he made lots of friends. There was this one little girl, Lisel, that he really liked and he loved holding her hand and walking around with her. They were so cute together.” You chuckle a little at the memory. “They became such good friends that her father invited us to dinner one evening.”

“Her father?” Din asks, wondering if you spent all your time meeting men while you were in Cloud City.

“Yes, he’s a single father, like you. Mostly Lisel was with her nanny at the park too, but one day her father brought her. He’d heard so much about the green boy, as Lisel called him, that he wanted to meet us.”

“How was it?” Din asks politely, although he’d rather not hear about your dinner date.

“It was fun, the little guy had a great time at dinner. He even shared his dessert with Lisel, so you know she was a very special friend.” Your voice teases the little one, as you know his fondness for sweet treats.

“Oh wait, I forgot, I took some holos to show you.” You pull out your holopad from your pocket and show him several of the child with a little girl who looks to be about 4 years old. Din has to admit, the kid does look like he’s having a great time. When you get to a holo with an attractive man and the little girl, he feels his interest wane.

“That’s Lisel’s father, he was friendly; it was nice of him to open his home to us.” You explain, a bit unnecessarily in Din’s opinion.

“Hmm” is all Din can think to say in response to that. Sure, this guy invited over his kid’s new friend because he’s just that nice, it had nothing to do with the beautiful woman caring for him. He’s thankful his expression is hidden from you by his helmet. He knows it’s stupid, because you’ll probably never see the man again, and he himself has no claim on you, but he can’t help a flare of jealousy at the thought of you sharing a meal with another man. It’s compounded by the fact that Din can’t ever share a meal with you without breaking his creed. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to hear any more about Lisel’s father, because you appear to be out of holos and decide to change the subject.

“How was your hunt? I mean, I’m sure you caught him, but how did it go?” You ask him. You’ve never inquired about his bounties in the past and he wonders what made you think to ask him now.

“It was successful, that’s the important part.” He responds.

“Will you tell me about it? I’d like to hear more about what you do.” You sound genuinely curious. He isn’t usually one to share tales of his work. He always saw it as outrageous bragging after hearing stories from other bounty hunters back on Navarro. But there’s something about your expression, an eagerness to know more about him, that makes him feel like talking about it.

“This one was difficult, because the guy was a lot craftier than most quarries.” He explains. “Normally, they just run to some place over-populated thinking they can blend in or they head somewhere remote and try to hide. But this guy managed to pull off a really good identity switch and he discovered a way to fool the bio data for the tracking fob.”

“What did he do? Surgically alter his face or something?” It sounds like something a villain from a bad holoprogram would do.

Din chuckles, “Yes, he’s human but he had some type of skin treatment to make him look like he was Chiss, even had these special lens in his eyes that glowed red. I had to run DNA samples to verify it was him since he looked nothing like the puck.”

“How did you ever find him?” You sound impressed.

“His mother was receiving regular payments from a mining consortium on Bespin. Each month it looked like the money was coming from different accounts but it was always the same amount and it rotated perfectly between the accounts. It was too regular to not be a pattern. Besides the mother had no prior connection to Bespin nor mining, there was no reason for her to be receiving money unless he was sending it to her.”

“It’s like something out of a crime drama, ‘always follow the money’, right?” You’re clearly entertained by his story.

“Yeah, well, that got me to the mine, but then I still had to figure out who he was pretending to be.” Din explains, “I had it narrowed down to a few guys but still had to track them down and then each one ran from me, making me chase them all over the mine, I was constantly trying to avoid dangerous machinery. I guess mining attracts men who have bounties on their heads.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Your concern for his well-being is sweet.

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe a few bruises.” He shrugs, it’s nothing he can’t handle.

“You’re sure? Do you need bacta or anything?” You offer.

“I’m good.” Din replies, “But, um, if you felt like cooking dinner, I wouldn’t say no to that. Only if you feel like it. All I’ve had are ration bars the last few days.” He admits this sheepishly to you. Din doesn’t want to take advantage of your kindness but you really are a much better cook than he is and he does enjoy the way you fuss over him about eating healthy.

“Of course,” you say pleasantly and head down to the galley.

When you return, you have a tray with a bowl of soup, one of the meat pies, a salad, some sliced fruit and a cup of tea for him. It’s way more than he needs, but he appreciates your thoughtfulness and worry that he hasn’t eaten enough. He notes that you even made him the tea that he likes but that you don’t seem to care for, which means you must have made it special just for him. That thought alone is enough to make him smile and, after you’ve set down the tray on the console, he finds himself reaching out to take your hand. You seem a bit startled by this but you don’t say anything.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Din tries to make his voice sound as warm as he can through the modulator, “for all that you do for me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mando,” you tell him, your own voice sounding warm and sincere.

He gives your hand a little squeeze, and tells you, “You’re such a good friend.” He watches your face falter a bit at those words and you release his hand.

“I hope you enjoy your dinner.” You smile at him again, but this smile doesn’t reach your eyes. He barely has a chance to register it though because you’re already moving past him, scooping up the kid, and heading back down the ladder swiftly.

Shit, what did I do wrong? Din can’t figure out what could have changed your demeanor. Maybe squeezing her hand was too much? He sighs to himself and hopes he hasn’t upset you in some way. He listens for a moment and he can hear you chatting happily to the child so it can’t be too bad. His stomach growls and remembering his hunger, he turns back to the feast you’ve brought him. He hates to admit it but the meat pie is good even if it did come from stupid handsome Riva.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crucival may be considered a backwater, but it has its own beauty in soft rolling hills and small wooded areas, and even several wild flowers, if Din remembers correctly. After yesterday evening though, he knows he wants to see a real smile on your face again and so he decides to head straight for the lake, knowing it’s the best feature this little break has to offer. Turns out that was the smart move because as soon as he lowers the Crest’s ramp, your entire face lights up with delight at the sparkling water. It’s a sunny day and warm without being too hot, a perfect day to spend at the lake. He chuckles as, just like the kid, you race down the ramp straight for the little sandy beach. Before he’s even off the ship, you two are already wading at the water’s edge. He watches as you help the kid get his robe off, allowing the little guy to splash around in the buff. He feels a wide smile break out on his face at how much fun the kid’s having. There’s a small group of shady trees at the water’s edge and Din settles himself underneath them where he can watch the two of you. He’s surprised though when you suddenly bring the child back to him.

“The water’s so warm, I going to go put on my swim suit.” You tell him excitedly. “The kiddo can be a nudist, but that’s not my style.” You give him a wink and jog back to the ship.

The little guy squirms in Din’s arms and makes small whining sounds indicating that he wants to be back in the water. Din looks down at himself and he feels a little out of place in all of his armor and protective layers.

“Give me a couple minutes, pal,” he tells the child as begins to remove his armor and strip down to his base layers. After a bit, he’s down to just his helmet, trousers, and undershirt, and he’s finally ready to take the kid back to the lake when Din sees you coming back. All his movements come to a grinding halt as he watches you saunter over to him. Your swimsuit shows off your all your curves beautifully and you look so gorgeously sexy that all he can do is stare at you. He watches you dumbly as you reach for the squirming child who is getting increasingly impatient and he sees your mouth moving, but it’s as if there’s a short circuit in his brain and he has no idea what you’re saying.

“Mando?” You must have asked him something.

“Yes” He just agrees blindly hoping that’s the right answer. It seems to be, because you’re giving him that incredibly bright smile of yours and saying, “Alright, let’s go.”

You tug his arm to make him move and head back to the water. He follows after you and the child, but stops to wade in the shallow water at the shore, while you swim out a bit further, holding onto the child. He watches as the two of you float and swim, laughing in delight.

“Well, aren’t you coming in?” You call out to him.

“I’m still in my clothes.” Din doesn’t own a swimsuit, never has.

“So? They can get wet. Or I guess you could take them off.” Your voice has a playfulness he hasn’t heard before. You’re teasing him, and it’s clear you don’t think he’ll ever take off his clothes to come swimming.

Din might spend most of his time with his skin fully covered, but he’s not shy about his body. In fact, your teasing tone makes him want to rise to your challenge, and so he reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it off. When he glances back at you, he can see he has your complete attention and your mouth has fallen open a bit. Good, Din wants you to look, he likes the idea of you watching him undress. He moves to unbutton and unzip his trousers next, before pushing them down and letting them fall to the sand. He heads into the water now only in his black boxer briefs and his helmet. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, at least until the child sends a large splash of water into your face.

“He got you good,” Din chuckles at the sight of your face dripping with water as he swims up to you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out. It appears you’re rather flustered from his impromptu strip tease on the shore and you seem to be trying very hard to keep your eyes on his visor, but he sees you taking little peeks down at his naked chest.

“It’s alright, you can look.” Din tells you cheekily and loves it when you gasp in response. He looks down at your chest too where he’s rewarded with the sight of your cleavage, enhanced by the glistening water running down your skin. Teasing you a bit further, he says, “Besides, I’m certainly enjoying the view myself.”

“Mando!” You’re trying to make it sound like you’re scandalized, but the way your eyes are shining and the fact that you’re still smiling tell him you’re enjoying this as much as he is. Not wanting to push too far though, he turns his attention to the child.

“C’mon pal, let’s practice kicking.” Din holds the little one’s arms as he floats on his tummy and you both watch as he kicks his little legs hard churning up the water. Din moves through the water helping the child gain momentum as he kicks. The child grins up at him in delight and Din’s glad he decided to come swimming.

The three of you have a delightful time in the lake and you stay in the water until your fingers and toes are pruney, only finally coming out because you can tell the child will need to eat soon or you’ll be dealing with a cranky toddler instead of a giggling one.

“Oh, I forgot to grab towels.” You’re saying as you make your way back onto the little beach.

“That’s ok,” Din replies, “You can just use my cape to dry off and the kid and I will air dry.” He’s already stretching out in the sun. You glance down at him, but then suddenly turn away with your hand to your mouth and hurry over to find his cape. Din looks down at himself and realizes that now that his boxer briefs are wet, everything is more on display than before. He chuckles to himself and hopes you weren’t too shocked, but also, he can’t help himself from thinking, I hope she liked what she saw.  

When you return you’re carrying some towels, a blanket and bag that looks to be full of food. Din watches as you demurely keep your head turned and toss him a towel before helping the child dry off more. Then you spread out a blanket and proceed to set up a huge picnic for the three of you. He notices you’re dividing up the food so that it’s on two opposite edges of the blanket.

“I thought maybe if we sat back-to-back it would be OK for us to eat together. I’ll keep the child on my lap and there’s no one else around who could see you, so it should be safe. What do you think?” You ask him.

“Yeah, that will work.” Din’s touched that you’ve thought of a way for the three of you to share a meal together in some fashion. He knows there aren’t many settlements around, so he figures he can push the helmet up and leave it atop his head while he eats. It will be easy enough to drop it back down quickly if necessary.

He waits until you get settled on the blanket with the kid, and then sits down behind you. He leans back against your body, forgetting that your swimsuit has left your back almost entirely bare and now he can feel your warm skin from your hips to your shoulders pressed against his. The sensation is so incredible for him that he feels like he can’t breathe. He doesn’t remember the last time someone touched this much of his skin. What he told you before was true, he has had lovers, but it’s been a very long time since he’s taken off more than what was absolutely necessary for those encounters. And despite the fact that there’s nothing truly sexual about the way that you’re touching him now, it’s intimate for him. He tries to eat but each time one of you moves all he can focus on is the feeling of your skin brushing his. He knows you’re trying to have a conversation with him, but he keeps losing track of the topic.

“Is everything OK, Mando?” You seem to have noticed how quiet he’s being.

“Yeah, just, uh, enjoying the sound of your voice.” In trying not to saying anything about how much he likes touching you, he lets that admission slip out unwarranted.

“Oh, thank you. I hope I haven’t been too chatty.” You sound pleased but a little self-conscious from his compliment. “I know you must be used to silence when you eat, and I hope I didn’t bother you.”

“Of course not. It’s been interesting.” He figures that’s safe enough for him to say so he doesn’t have to admit that he’s been too physically distracted to really pay attention to your words.

“I am starting to get a bit tired though, how about we take a nap, little guy?” You’re addressing the child now. The kid is not pleased with this proposal, however, and he lets out an unhappy, whiny sound.

“I can take him back in the water if you’d like to rest,” Din suggests. He knows you’ve been on full-blown caregiver duty for days now and he did intend for this little sojourn to be a rest for you.

“Would you? That sounds great.” He can hear the relief in your voice. Slipping his helmet back on, he cleans up his side of the picnic before coming around to pick up the kid, and he notices the grateful look in your eyes. Din leaves you to your nap, only glancing back once to see you bunching up his cape to use as a pillow. The gesture makes him chuckle and he’s glad he could give you some time to yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, the weather has turned somewhat and there’s a cooler breeze blowing. It’s not a great day for swimming, but, Din thinks with a smile, it will be perfect for self-defense training with you. When he tells you this plan after breakfast, he’s hoping you’re up for it.

“Yes, I think it’s a good idea,” you respond to his suggestion, “Thank you for offering, Mando, I would like to learn some more moves.”

“Good” He doesn’t try to hide his enthusiasm at sharing some of his knowledge with you. Din knows he can’t be with you at all times and the more you can protect yourself the less he will worry. In anticipation of you agreeing to training, he’s forgone his armor today, save the helmet of course.

After a careful explanation to the child about how you’ll both be pretend fighting and a warning that he is to stay in your sight at all times, Din and you are ready to begin. He starts by explaining four main areas of weakness that can allow you to inflict damage with minimal effort: the stomach, the instep, the nose, and the groin. He also points out other areas, like knees and ankles, that can be weakened fairly quickly allowing you to escape. Then he takes you through some basic movements that are easy but effective. He’s sure to teach moves that will work with either your arms or your legs in case your attacker has incapacitated one or the other.

“What if I can’t move my arms or my legs?” You ask in a worried voice.

“Well, then use that big brain of yours to try and talk your way out of things.” Din knows that wasn’t the answer you were looking to get, but he hopes the teasing compliment will distract you from any worse case scenarios you can imagine.

“Gee, thanks,” you respond, but you’re smirking at him so he knows it was a good tactic.

“Let’s try it all out now. I’ll pretend to attack you and you try to escape. But uh, maybe don’t try any of the nose moves because the beskar will just hurt your hand.” Din says.

“Got it, nose off-limits for this.” You nod, but then give him a sassy look, “What about the groin?”

“Look, do what you need to, but I would appreciate it if that’s not your primary target every time,” he says. You just laugh in response to that, and before you realize it, Din is attacking you head on.

“Hey, wait, I wasn’t ready,” you protest as Din’s arms grab yours tightly.

“I know, so what’re you gonna do about it?” He’s smirking at you until you manage to kick his shin hard and then his ankle. It’s not enough to make him let go, but it does hurt. “Alright, good, keep trying.”

It takes you a few attempts, but eventually you manage to break free from his hold. He makes you practice several times, changing up his angle of attack as he goes to keep the element of surprise. After each little session, he gives you advice to help you improve and he praises you for the good hits you managed to land. Finally, you’re pleading with him for a break and some water. He gives in and you walk over to the child to check on him. The little one has been amazingly good this whole time, playing with a couple of his toys and looking up every so often to watch the entertainment you’re both providing.

Din has been enjoying himself immensely. Although you’ve probably given him a few new bruises, he’s proud of how well you listened to his teaching and genuinely pleased by the quick progress you’ve made. Plus, he’s thankful you’ve tactfully avoided hitting him in the groin thus far. Although he’s given you permission to use what he’s taught you, he’d rather not have any bruising there. As you turn to head back over to the patch of grass where you’ve been training, Din realizes your guard is still down, so it’s a perfect opportunity for him to surprise you again. Only this time he misjudges his speed and strength as he’s a little too excited at the idea of catching you unaware and he ends up tackling you to the ground.

“Mando!” You let out a surprised yelp as you scramble in the grass with Din on top of you. He pushes himself up on his arms, but all this serves to do is make him more aware of your position as now he’s looking down at you, under him. It sends a hot feeling of pure lust through his chest and stomach, which ends up right between his legs at the precise moment you choose to arch your back and brush your hips up against his. So much for avoiding his groin. Your move is purely instinctual, Din thinks, an attempt to try to move him off of you. But the friction feels too good and he can’t stifle the groan that escapes his throat. Without thinking, he pushes his hips into yours, grinding himself against you. It isn’t until he sees your eyes widen and you let out a gasp, that he finally comes to his senses and jumps off of you as fast as he can. His face heats up under the helmet, as embarrassment washes over him. He knows you must have felt how hard he is for you right now, how could you not? He’d almost rather you had punched him there instead.

“I- I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to uh knock you down.” Din is stumbling over his words as he’s trying to regain control over himself. He realizes too late that you’re still sprawled on the ground and that if he were any type of gentleman he should offer to help you up. Awkwardly he reaches out a hand to you and helps you to your feet, but he’s afraid of touching you for too long so he drops your hand the second you’re upright, terrified that he’ll do or say something else stupid. Shit! What did I just do? I should apologize more, right? But what the hell do I say?

“Are you OK? Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry, really, that was stupid of me, I-” Din is babbling now but he can’t think of the right words to say. I’m sorry for rutting into you like a horny jerk?

“It’s ok, Mando, I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You’re laughing it off and brushing some grass out of your hair. “You just surprised the hell out of me.”

“I didn’t mean to come at you that hard-” Din tries to explain but then realizes that your eyes flick down just for a second at the word hard. He’s still very obviously aroused and clearly, you’re aware of that. All of his bravado from yesterday is gone and he doesn’t care if you like what you see, he just wants you to not despise him.

“Mando, really, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. But maybe that’s enough training for the day.” You’re being very magnanimous about the situation, in his opinion. You have every right to be angry with him, but instead you give him a reassuring smile and a little pat on the arm. “I learned a lot, and again, I appreciate you teaching me.”

You turn toward the child and head over to him, saying “Hey buddy, feel like going for a walk?” The baby coos up at you in delight and reaches his arms up to you indicating that he wants to be carried for this ‘walk’.

Great, she can’t wait to get away from me. Din lets a new wave of shame wash over him, but he can’t blame you for wanted some space right now.

You surprise him though when you say, “C’mon Mando, let’s go explore this place a bit more.”

“You want me to come along?” He doesn’t believe he heard you correctly.

“Yes, of course,” you say warmly, “Unless you’re too worn out from my excellent new defensive moves to walk?” You voice has a teasing lilt to it again, and he’s relieved to know you don’t seem to be mad at him. He feels better and is thankful you seem to accept his apology.

“You’re going to have to do a lot more to me than that before I’m too tired to walk.” He responds smugly as he comes over to join you.

You turn to face him, and with a gleam in your eye and a little smirk on your lips, you say, “Oh, I’m sure I can think of a few things I could do that would tire you out.”

Once again, Din is thankful for his helmet as there is no way to hide the utter shock on his face at your words. Are you flirting with him? Could it be possible that you’re interested in him in that way? He tells himself that he’s being ridiculous and that he needs to get a grip on his hormones. He takes a deep breath and wills himself to calm down.

You’re too busy laughing to notice his inner turmoil, and when you finally catch your breath, you say, “I couldn’t resist saying that, you set me up so perfectly.”

He laughs with you letting it break the tension he’s feeling, telling you, “Yeah, you’re hilarious.” So you were only joking. That’s good to know. You’re probably just trying to put him at ease and smooth over any awkwardness.

“Let’s head this way,” you gesture with a point of your finger and give him another smile.

Din walks with you and the child along the lakeshore following a small path that leads up a hill. When you reach the top, you’re rewarded with a view of a field of wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze on one side and a view of the soft blue waters of the lake on the other. The clouds have thinned out leaving a bright blue sky with the sun streaming down; all together, it’s a picturesque sight.  

“Oh this is so pretty,” you sigh happily, “I’m so glad you brought us here, Mando.” The child also makes a contented cooing sound.

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying it.” Din tells you softly. As pretty as the view is, he only has eyes for your face. The evident joy you have in seeing this simple landscape pulls at his heart and he wishes there were a way for him to give you this feeling every day. The emotion he’s feeling grows when he feels you slip your hand into his. You don’t say anything at first, you just remain there holding his hand and looking out at the view for a moment.

You squeeze his hand before you let go and say, “Thank you for this, bringing me to Crucival. It’s a lovely place. You’re a good friend to me too, Mando.”

Your words echo his from a few nights ago, but there’s something about hearing you call him a friend that disappoints him. It’s not enough, he realizes, he wants to be more than a friend to you. It’s a dangerous thought.

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

Thank you for reading! Keep reading: Chapter 4: A Fairly Indecent Proposal 

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

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[byeolies]

Genshin impact Idol au!

| Part 1 |

Thank you for 9 followers :)❤️

(Finished editing) Sorry I forgot that I put it on queque.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°Y/N’s Pov•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° °•°

“Y/n. It’s your turn to go grocery shopping.” Lumine just grabbed the things to make cereal. “Hm, just write whatever you want from the store on the list” I got dressed in some shorts, tucked in white shirt and some sandals. Reference.“Okay I’m going!” I rushed outside with the usual idol disguise. It was a usual sunny day.

I arrived to the grocery store, got everything on the list and went to pay for it. “Sir if you don’t have anything to pay for thing then I’m going to kindly ask you to step aside for the other customers “ the employe said to the man with rounded glasses on. He had a tucked in black shirt showing his collarbone, black pants with a brown belt. A watch decorated his wrist, his black faded into a Amber color in a low ponytail.

I tapped the employee on the shoulder, handing him my card and putting my groceries with his. “I’ll pay for him”, I checked that I had everything. After that whole thing, me and the dude grabbed our groceries and we went to the park. “Thank you for your kind act miss” The man paused asking for my name. “y/n and do not worry about it” I said while adjusting the plastic bags on my arm. “I tend to go by Zhongli, nice to meet you miss Y/N.” Zhongli checked his surrounding.

“Is something the matter?” I also looked around trying to see what he’s looking for. “Text me what you want me to give you in return. Goodbye miss Y/N” Zhongli elegantly walked away as I stayed there with a blank face. I walked back home, taking in the peace.

I got back home to hear Lumine rage quitting her game. I laughed at her misfortune and she threatened to slap me with the controller. Jean cleared her throat which successfully caught our attention. She told us our schedules.

Lumine gets to be a radio host for 3 hours and I got to do a photo shoot for 4 hours. We got our things and went inside the car. Jean started the car, Lumine got aux cable and started to play music, and I just laughed at her dramatic singing.

Jean looked so tired of us but we all know she loves us. Jean stopped at my photo shoot first and wished me good luck. I went inside the building and the receptionist led me to my destination. The lady introduced herself as Paimon and gave me my outfit to change into. Outfit .

I saw a boy in suit and to be honest he really rocked the look. The look. The photographer called us over, introducing me to the beautiful boy. “Albedo meet Y/N L/N, a member of Eternal. Now Y/N meet Albedo a famous actor. I’ll give you guys 3 minutes to get ready.” The photographer said before leaving us in a awkward silence.

‘Well, what in freaking world do I say now? Comment on the weather-‘

I was about to say something before he beat me to it. “You don’t have to start a conversation with me, anyways nice meeting you. I hope you don’t mess this photo shoot up.” He said before leaving. I felt a bit of pressure on my shoulders so I went to go grab a snack from the vending machine.

He was a bit cold but I guess you can kinda understand why. I mean we barely met so that doesn’t mean we need to get along. We went our separate ways, I getting some chips from the vending machine and him making sure everything is perfect for the photo shoot.

I was picking out what chips I wanted from the vending machine. I felt my sleeve being tugged, I saw a little girl with plantinum blonde hair wearing a kindergarten outfit and a backpack. “Excuse me miss, can you tell where photo shoot B-43 is? I’m looking for someone important to me.” The little girl said with innocent windwheel aster eyes.

“Sure, let’s go find your important person!” I said smiling while walking at a pace she can keep up with. “They take care of Klee even when they’re busy, They’re the best!” Klee said while we were walking. “Oh yeah? You must really be excited to see them if you came here alone” I said while giggling.

She nodded her head and starting to ramble about her important person. We reached the photo shoot area, Klee scanned the area. “Find them yet?” I asked while trying to help. She must’ve found them because she yelled excitedly “Big brother Albedo!”. Klee ran into Albedo arms.

Ohh it makes sense since everything she said about her ‘special person’ matches him.

I joined Paimon near the makeup station and soon the photo shoot started. After the shoot was done, everyone congratulated us (You and albedo) on a job well done. I finished getting out of the outfit and taking off the makeup, Albedo suprisingly walks up to me.

“This is the pretty nice lady I was telling you about, Albedo!”Klee said while tugging on my hand. “Can she come babysit me whenever you’re busy?” She added, it seems Klee likes me very much.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° °•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° °•°•°•°•°

|Notes\

I got writers block but luckily we met 2/9 boys in your harem. Might also make this series short I do not know yet. Can’t wait for you guys to meet your other 2 Prince Charming :). Thank you for 15 followers :)! I have another short story that’s probably not gonna make sense coming up soon. Bye have a great day :)! ❤️

[vivianweasley]

Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 1)

Summary: You are Draco’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley. 

Italics= flashback

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: workplace discrimination, slight slight mention of war

Word Count: 1.9k

Disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without explicit permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

Prologue

Two days after the dinner at the Burrow, you ran into your friend when you were shopping at Flourish and Blotts. She just got out of the Daily Prophet, and you could see a name tag on her chest stating that she’s now a reporter for the Daily Prophet.

“You got the job?” You didn’t know how to process this information. You and she were in the same year and same house. You both took the same classes, your grades were almost the same, and you both got the interview for Daily Prophet at the same time. The only difference was that she got the job, and you didn’t.

“Yes! Today’s the first day! Wait, you didn’t?” She was finding it hard to believe too.

Memories of the interview flashed back. You could still remember how the interviewer immediately furrowed his brows when he heard that your last name is Malfoy. The distrust, doubt, and even disgust on his face were so painfully visible.

You knew your background couldn’t provide any help when it comes to finding a job, but you still encouraged yourself by thinking that maybe it was because you weren’t good enough. If that’s so, you could always make up for it by working harder. But now you realized that, no matter how hard you worked, you would never be good enough for them because people would always make false assumptions about you based on your last name.

You felt dizzy. The whole Diagon Alley suddenly appeared foggy and dim, looking quite like your future, but you soon saw a lighthouse at the end of it. The brightness of the orange joke shop seemed to point out a way out for you as Mrs. Weasley and your mum’s suggestions rang in your ears.

“I need to go now!” The walk was only five minutes, but you couldn’t waste any time as you apparated right to the door of the joke shop.

“Well, this is rare!” The owner greeted you with a big grin on his face when you opened the door.

You didn’t have time to start this conversation with George, so you went right into your question, “I’m looking for Fred Weasley. Is he here?”

George was shocked as multiple questions ran through his brain. Wait, you could tell between him and Fred? But does he know you this well? Or maybe you have some history with Fred? Merlin! Y/N Malfoy? And Fred??

But he said nothing, just pointed at the back of the shop as he was still trying to process the situation.

“Thanks.” You rushed to the back of the shop and saw Fred sorting through the boxes in the storage.

“Fred Weasley.” You stated with a straight face.

“Y/N Malfoy?” Fred mimicked your tone as he still wasn’t sure what’s going on. What was this woman doing in his shop, anyway?

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. Why? Do you fancy me? Did you fall in love with me after that one dinner?” he teased.

You ignored him and continued, “Do you fancy anyone? Are you dating someone? Talking to someone?”

“Not that I’m aware of?”

“Great. Let’s get married then.”

The boxes fell from Fred’s hands. This woman is absolutely mental! “I beg your pardon?”

“I said, let’s get married. After I got a steady job, we can get a divorce anytime.” You knew he’s going to laugh it off if you don’t up your game a little, so you frowned, pretending like you were disappointed, “Well, guess you don’t have the guts to do it.”

Fred knew what you were trying to do, but he was still completely under your control when you were basically giving him a dare. This should be fun, he decided. He never really hated you anyway. In fact, he actually really admired you back in Hogwarts.

Back in fifth year, Fred and George tried to prank you. It wasn’t because you did anything in particular. It was just because you were Draco Malfoy’s cousin, and Draco was really obnoxious that year.

The prank was simple. they estimated when you would walk down the stairs and set a tripwire on your way, waiting for you to trip over and fall.

Fred and George were hiding behind a pillar, waiting, but nothing happened. When you were walking down the stairs, you stopped and pulled out your wand. “Incendio,” you whispered, and the tripwire just burned into ashes.

Watching their prank being busted, the twins were frustrated. George gave up on pranking you again. It’s not like you did anything wrong anyway. But Fred suddenly felt motivated. He’s determined to get you one day.

Fred tried everything. Be it canary cream or portable swamp, you always had a way to avoid his pranks gracefully, and sometimes, the pranks would even backfire on him. After trying for a month, Fred finally admitted defeat. He admired how your brain worked, and he couldn’t help but think that if you weren’t a Malfoy, maybe you two would be really good friends.

“Who said I don’t have the guts?”

You smiled with satisfaction, for you knew your strategy worked, “Good, I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow then.”

“Wait, you could get a job, but what’s in it for me?”

You knew he wouldn’t agree so easily, so you had already prepared a plan, “How about, as long as it‘s not illegal or against my own moral standards, I can do three things for you. What do you say?”

“Deal!” The reason why Fred refused at first was that he hated being arranged and controlled by his parents. But now, when this arranged marriage became more like a game to him, he began finding it quite interesting. “The first thing I want you to do is to take care of my shop today!”

“I’m not stupid, Weasley. What if you run away after I spent the whole day working in your shop? The deal only works after I get the marriage certificate!”

Fred nodded in approval, “Not bad, Malfoy. So I will see you at the Ministry tomorrow at one pm then.”

“Deal! Don’t be late, Weasley!”

~

The next day, you were waiting at the Ministry at one pm. You repeatedly glanced at the clock  and shuffled all the documents in your hands as you paced around. 

Fred was late. Did he bail on you? Did he think you were only joking? Did he think you were a joke? Irritation and doubt rushed through your head, but you eventually calmed a bit down when you heard a familiar voice.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we, my lovely bride-to-be?” he teased as he waltzed in.

“Not before we set some ground rules first.” You pulled him to a place where no one could hear you, and you finally took out the contract that you wrote yesterday night.

“Blimey, you actually wrote a contract?”

“Yes, Weasley, and you have to sign it,” you continued, “First, a year after I got a steady job, we will get a divorce.”

“A year?? Why does it have to be so long?”

“I don’t want the Ministry and my employer to think that I’m getting married only because I want to get a job.” You ignored his pout and went on with the list, “Second, if during this year, you actually met someone, you can date them. But you have to be discreet.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Aww, didn’t know you were such a thoughtful person.”

“Third, the fewer people know the truth, the better.”

“Sorry love, but my family already knew, and that’s already a lot of people.”

You glared at him, “You know what I mean!”

Your expression successfully elicited a small laugh from him, making you suspect that he actually enjoyed annoying you.

You rolled your eyes, “That’s all. Anything you want to add?” 

Fred shook his head, and you handed him a pen, “Brilliant!”

After signing his name on your contract, he held out his arm, “Shall we?”

You smiled, taking his arm, “We shall.”

“Fred Weasley? And Y/N Malfoy?” The lady at the Ministry looked at you and then looked at Fred several times, and finally asked in a surprised tone.

“That’s us!” Fred answered and wrapped his arm around your shoulders while you both tried to put on the biggest smile.

But her eyes were still scanning you from head to toe, and finally stopped at your fingers, “So, no rings, huh?” She was looking into your eyes as if she just found out the whole marriage was a scam. 

You cursed yourself for not remembering something this important, but your smile didn’t disappear, “Yes, Freddie and I aren’t conventional people. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove our love.”

Fred was surprised when he heard your nickname for him, but he didn’t let it show. It’s weird hearing you calling him that, but he had to admit he liked the sound of it. “That’s right, my love.”

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder to display your affection. You wanted to stay focused so you won’t blow your cover, but hearing that pet name had caused a weird tingle in your stomach.

A few questions later, and before you could fully comprehend the situation, you were officially married to Fred Weasley. Looking at your marriage certificate, you felt surreal. Just in a few days, you and Fred went from classmates who never really talked to each other to a married couple. You two were legally bonded now, and it felt strange, but you had no time to process all these, for you had a more important task.

“Where are you going?” you heard Fred yelling behind you as you started running.

“I’ve got a job interview!”

~

The interview went well. The interviewer even thanked your husband and his family for their service during the war. You were disgusted by how people’s attitudes could change so drastically simply when you changed your last name. You didn’t fight in the war, but your family took in many muggle-born kids during those dark days, yet nobody cared. All they knew was your last name.

You walked home with mixed feelings running in your head. You knew your life was about to change, but you didn’t know if it was for better or worse. So many things have happened in the past few days, and you were just confused.

But what awaited you at home didn’t resolve any of your doubts. You saw your mum moving suitcases to the door. They were your suitcases.

“Mum, what’s going on?”

“Oh, darling, you’re back! How did the interview go?”

“It went well, I guess. Why are you moving my things out?”

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley and I figured it would look more authentic if you were staying with your husband. You know, just in case someone suspects anything.”

“Mum! But I barely know him!”

“Well, then this is the perfect chance to get to know each other!

So this was how you ended up knocking on the Weasley twins’ door at night, with all your suitcases.

The door cracked open, and Fred’s eyes widened when he saw you and your suitcases at his door.

You smiled sincerely at him, “Hello husband, mind if I stay the night?”

~

Chapter 2

A/N: this chapter is still setting things up. The next chapter will be longer!

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[we-pay-for-everything]

My fundamental problem with cangel is that the two start not just platonic but familial and then literally nothing about their dynamic and almost nothing about their characters change before Fred and Lourne start telling the audience they're in love. Oh and that then the writers proceed to carve Cordelia down to little more than Angels cheerleader and make her oblivious to the entire situation.

To be honest, the problem to me starts before season 3. My problem is that Cordelia and Angel were labeled as "family" way before they even became a family.

One of the main themes in season 1 is found family, but Cordelia and Angel are essentially strangers who are also friends as well as employee/employer. They have a complicated relationship, but they are both going through stuff and decide to stick together and to rely on each other. There is genuine affection there - we can see in the beginning of season 2 that Cordelia cares for Angel - but season 2 is also an example of the distance that exists between them. Cordelia can't actually understand the reality of Angel's existence; part from the loneliness, and what she calls the "no boning" thing, she doesn't understand the complexity of Angel's mind and the weight of his past. Family doesn't have to get you, but that love is born from watching someone grow up or growing up with someone; it's also born from obligation. Angel and Cordelia have no obligation towards each other nor a long history together. Family is messy but familial love is, to some extent, unconditional. In the first half of season 2, Angel and Cordelia are two people who could have very well gone their separate ways at any point without any hard feelings. Angel was a fuck up but family wouldn't give on the troublemaker of the family quite so easily. Cordelia (and Wes) gave up too quickly, because they were only friends at that point. Family gives up on you, for sure, but found family isn't supposed to be like that. Found family is closer than actual family by definition. And someone close to Angel wouldn't have given up on him so easily.

I do think once the gang got back together, they were considerably closer, and the beginning of season 3 saw them resemble a family of sorts. But I still struggle to see Cordy/Fred, Wes/Gunn, Lorne/everyone, etc. as people who loved each other. However, I think love existed between Angel/Cordy/Wes (I don't know what to make of Cordelia forgetting about Wes's existence, but Cordy and Wes were the closest to family until season 3 eviscerated that friendship).

Anyway, one of the main themes in season 3 is, again, family. The writers were very overt about it - they made a big deal of showing how close the group was. To me, Angel and Cordelia only actually became something more definite like family in that season. And it was precisely because of that that the friends to lovers transition was so poorly executed - because it felt like a friends to forced family to lovers transition. CC and DB have no romantic or sexual chemistry, so the result of all the screen time they got together was, in the audience's mind, a development of their familial bond. Of course some scenes were more explicitly romantic, but as the audience was unwilling to view it as such, the result was the same.

Even the platonic development of Cordelia and Angel's relationship felt artificial. Cordelia and Angel's personalities changed so much in the beginning of season 3 that it was hard to reconcile their characters in season 3 with their characters in the previous seasons. This was the writers' fatal flaw imo. The romantic development of their friendship was build on top of a crumbling foundation. To transition them from friends to lovers they tried to deepen that bond of friendship, but artificially, so when Lorne and Fred started talking about moira and whatnot Cangel was already unrecognizable, which made the romance even more unpalatable. Although the writers wished, from the beginning, to make them fall in love, the audience wasn't aware of that. We essentially saw a development of their friendship and were confused when, as you said, nothing changed except our perception of their relationship due to Lorne and Fred's involvement.

I don't think Cordelia and Angel being "family" ever stood in the way of romance, but rather that "family" was forcing Cordelia to be Angel's baby mama when we all know Cordelia in season 2 wouldn't even have babysat Connor without complaining first (she would've done it, but first she would have forced Wes into helping her haha). We also know from season 2 that Angel and Cordelia still had a long way to go with their friendship, but season 3, quite conveniently, swept everything under the rug.

The main problem with Cangel is, like you said, that we were told, rather than shown, that Cangel had feelings for each other, and also that this progression of their relationship relied heavily on Cordelia becoming a different person, and Angel too.

Sorry for being so long-winded. I'm not even sure I made sense. Also, you made a good point about Cordy's obliviousness being absurd, because Cordy is a pretty self-aware person - at least about her own feelings.

Thanks for the ask! Have you just found my blog? I've written plenty of posts about Cangel, in case you are interested.