#i don't think i'm emotionally recovering from this... Haha!

[patpran]

full fade fancam from today!!!! a treat for tumblr <333

[m3r1m4r5u333]

Reasons why I keep rambling about Bi!Eddie...

Why? Why would Eddie hide his sexual identity, bisexuality? Because... why not, he thinks.

Dating only women would mean less conflict with his family. His family is religious and Eddie loves them, is scared to lose them.

Eddie also fears triggering more conflict, maybe even fears his family might not consider him a good dad anymore if he came out.

He already almost had to fight for his son's custody with them. What if he comes out and they lash out? He has a dangerous job, works ridiculous hours, is a single parent. A queer man is not every courtroom's favorite person.

So women... That's where Eddie hides, it's what he knows. It's "a safe place to hide"... because in theory, it's fine, it's comfortable. Eddie is attracted to women. So he isn't really sacrificing anything, or at least much, he thinks... Just marry a woman you love, and it's all good. No need to come out and clash with your family, or make Christopher's childhood even more of a challenge. After all, the world is still prejudiced and not all children of queer parents have it easy.

But the truth is... Closeted life isn't a cake-walk even if you avoid detection, and are sort of adjusting. You are still hiding a part of yourself. Acting. Feeling like you need to pretend. Scared and unable to be fully yourself.

I've noticed that Buddie fans keep pointing to Eddie's panic attacks as this "haha gotcha, you're GAY!"-confirmation. It's ignorant.

Did you know that panic attacks are actually not at all unusual among closeted bisexuals, either?

Masks are always suffocating, no matter what you're hiding.

Not to mention, when Eddie starts having those panic attacks, he's under a world of pressure. Trying to recover and get back to dating... Quite soon really, after losing his wife.

He's also got a mountain of trauma and PTSD after surviving several near-death- experiences. To add to the trauma, the way he experienced the shooting? He thought Buck was wounded.

And then he is pressured into asking Ana out even though it hasn't been that long since he lost his wife.

Also I'm quite sure... His heart just isn't in it, dating. I think he has actually by that point fallen for Buck. And ignores it, tries to move on, forces himself to date someone else.

Get back on a horse, even if you don't really want to, feel the need to. Doesn't matter what you like, just do it anyway! "Horses" it is. Dating it is.

So Ana and Eddie? It's a tale of unrequited love, for Eddie, and for Ana. Falling for a concept because the person you truly want is simply not invested like you are, is emotionally unavailable to you.

The anxiety builds when people keep assuming Ana is Eddie's wife or Christopher's mom. It's too soon, it feels wrong. The relationship is just a mask because Eddie hasn't actually moved on. From Shannon, or from Buck. He panics when Ana says. "I'm not his mother... I'm... just a friend."

It's a reminder that she isn't Shannon - not Christopher's mom.

And she isn't Buck either. Buck who isn't really Christopher's father, who is... just a friend.

And like Buck... Ana is becoming Eddie's ready-made family anyway. Actually the third ready-made family, really. Shannon, Buck, Ana... All happened without much room to stop and re-consider.

Shannon... A rushed shotgun marriage triggered by an unplanned pregnancy and catholic guilt.

Buck, (a seemingly) straight friend quickly becoming family - clearly a dead end romance-wise.

Ana... A rushed, pressured romance built out of need to forcibly move on, and find a step-mom for Chris. Three ready-made families, all destroying Eddie in different ways. Anxiety, inner turmoil, panic.

....

So. Eddie's bisexuality!!!

That ice skating scene in "Malfunction"? The episode is very Eddie-centric, and the theme is "Me a tough macho man, me trust nobody, ugh!"

There's Eddie's fight club clusterfuck, his argument with Lena about Eddie being emotionally distant. Eddie, crying in front of Bobby about his grief, about Shannon leaving because Eddie "broke" her, because he wasn't enough...

Eddie = Trust issues galore, abandoment issues galore. Persistent shame and guilt making him unable to go for anything he really wants. Avoidance. Hidden pain. Constant urge to be in control, and never slip.

So let's look at that ice skating scene in "Malfunction"...

It's a blood bath on ice. Figure skaters toe-picking and getting injured, all because of one fallen sequin on ice triggering a domino effect. Bobby knows to look for a sequin because he's got some experience with this stuff.

Chimney: So how come you know so much about figure skating?

Eddie: Always thought you were a hockey player, cap.

...

Bobby: Who says you can't do both?!

(They team is shocked. Buck says "We'll google for photos later"

Chimney waves his hand around like he agrees... But in a way that ends up looking like he's pointing at Buck AND Eddie. And Hen then throws this shocked lingering stare at Buck and Eddie, like she just realised something!)

...Who says you can't do both? Indeed... Is there some secret quota, unknown to me, that dictates how many bi characters a tv show can have?

Is there a law that a queer male ship must always be the sum of one bi male, one male gay character? Why do we expect that? Because it would be more diverse, more varied representation?

Correct me if I've got this wrong... But writing Eddie as gay would in fact not score the show more diversity points, not in the realm of 9-1-1.

The show STARTS OFF with a storyline about a closeted, married gay man! If Eddie was gay... It would be the show's second storyline about a closeted, married gay man. That's not diverse representation. That would be in fact... quite repetitive, unimaginative queer representation!

Also, let's keep in mind that the show already has several gay male characters by the time Eddie joins the team.

Michael! David! Josh! That's already three gay men. If Eddie was gay, Eddie would be the fourth gay male character.

Oh wait. Tommy. So... FIFTH one! Also there are even more strictly gay monosexuals: Two lesbians. Hen and Karen.

However, there are just two confirmed bi character so far. Buck and Eva.

So really, Who says you can't "do both"?

Who says both of these characters can't be interested in women and men, into more genders than one? Who says both Buck and Eddie can't be bi?

"We're everywhere, man." That's Eddie's line in that scene, gif below. (And pink+yellow balloons, blue gloves? Pansexual-coded colors. Multisexuality!)

Eddie, subtly illuminated in bi-coded colors. Blue, purple, pink... On a date with a woman.

Talking with Buck. Bi-coded lighting.

Oh look, what's behind Eddie? The famous bi-cycle. While he talks about "the menu" not being the issue...

"The sex was never the issue", with Shannon. Canonically they actually went at it like bunnies, even to the detriment of their relationship because they failed to talk due to being too distracted by each other's bodies.

"The "menu" is not the issue." And it's not with Marisol, either. Not until Eddie learns of her hyper religious past.

Confronting Marisol, a former nun-student? That's the issue here, that's what Eddie's trying to avoid. Confronting his obviously at least at one point very religious, quite possibly bigoted girlfriend...?? Would certainly be an issue, if you're bi!!! Who wants to date a bigot?! Your very own domestic hate crime.

So... Eddie talks about the upcoming alone time with Marisol (when Chris was away) feeling exciting, naughty... Until he learns she was almost a NUN!

He talks about "eyes on the ground". And that's what dating a fundamentalist would be, if you're bi and closeted. Eyes on the ground, close to you.

Suddenly being judged for same-sex attraction is no longer just a distant fear, a vague idea to Eddie, it's a living, breathing person in his home, in his bed.

Really, imagine dating a bigot. Imagine your partner being disgusted, disturbed, judgemental... by your sexuality, your identity, your desires, dreams. Imagine them being repulsed by such an fundamental, persistent part of what makes you... you. Something you cannot change.

Imagine sometimes fantasizing about men as well as women, and then... trying to have sex with someone... who you suspect might consider your secret fantasy life disgusting, wrong. Imagine that negative reaction if they knew the whole truth, who you really are?!

An efficient boner killer, for sure!! No wonder Eddie is suddenly avoiding her company, anxious by the idea of sex with her. He doesn't trust Marisol anymore.

Also, let's talk about Eddie and moving on.

Why going home is an issue. Leaving Buck's place is an issue. Because trying to move on? Those words just need a melody, and ta-dah it's the Eddie Diaz theme song. The story of his life. The concept just keeps coming up.

Moving on. Being unable to move on.

Quite frankly, I think this is the main reason why Eddie cannot date without freaking out.

When Eddie joins the team he's still stuck on Shannon. "They weren't my type." Less awkward than to say "Sure they were hot, but I do have an estranged wife."

Shannon was his first crush, love, his first everything. The mother of his child. His friend. But they were young, not ready to get married and have a child, especially one with special needs. They were pushed to do that anyway when Shannon suddenly got pregnant, unplanned.

Btw, may I just point out that they're already under a lot of pressure and struggling when we first see them together on the show?

What we miss out on seeing... are the times when things were still great! That creates a limited, tinted view of their romance, and warps our entire view of their relationship. When we first see Eddie and Shannon, their relationship is already quite fractured, and falling apart.

Doesn't mean it always was bad.

Inability to work together. That eventually destroyed their relationship. Both failed to listen to each other, to be a team. Their love died because their mutual trust and respect died.

Eddie couldn't handle sudden parenthood, sudden marriage (and catholics truly expect forever), Christopher's cp diagnosis. He enlisted, escaped to the army. Shannon couldn't handle the guilt, thinking the cp was her fault. They fought all the time. Eddie let his parents meddle with Christopher's upbringing, walk over Shannon. He refused to listen to her when she wanted to move to another city. Eddie avoided bonding with Chris.

So when Eddie got home from the war-zone, she left. Eddie was suddenly alone with Chris. And Shannon was gone for a long time. Her leaving, it was a shock to the system. Eddie no longer trusted her, she'd abandoned him, and more importantly, abandoned Chris.

So Eddie is struggling. Alone. Hurt.

And then... Eddie meets Buck, who is ridiculously helpful. Buck is someone Eddie can count on. They're almost instantly a team.

So Eddie moves on from Shannon, and falls for Buck. From that point on? There is no real room for others. From then on it's just barely discreet heart-eyes at Buck, and Eddie not truly wanting to date anyone (else).

Eddie doesn't really want to get back together with Shannon when she returns. The sex is still great, that was never the issue, they both agree on that one thing...

But she was simply gone for too long, she even says this. It's obvious. Eddie has adjusted to life without her, found a new focus, moved on from her.

For example when we see Eddie, Buck and Chris visit Santa? Eddie talks about Shannon to Buck in this almost anxious way, like he feels the need to explain himself to Buck, like he's been cheating on Buck. Buck then calls Eddie "brother", and Eddie's face, just for a moment... Falls. He looks disturbed, disappointed, to be called "brother".

Eddie tries to mend the relationship with Shannon. It's obviously out of a sense of duty (catholic guilt, marriage should last, divorce is wrong), he keeps waiting for a "sign", keeps ducking her questions, pushing her away, keeps dragging his feet. His heart is no longer in it. Shannon realises this, wants to break up.

And then she dies. Eddie grieves. Feels guilt for failing to salvage the marriage. And then Eddie is just... stuck. Unable to move on, from grieving Shannon, from the guilt caused by their failed marriage, from Buck. Tries to force himself to move on. Fails. Keeps dying inside.

Heart's already taken.

.....

There are so many talks about moving on after that. Seemingly they are all about Shannon, and I do think they are about Shannon...

Just not... entirely. After all, Eddie didn't really want to get back together with her, did he now. We see them fighting, a lot. Their relationship wasn't dancing on roses, there were serious problems.

So the talks about moving on are also about Buck. Buck, who Eddie thinks is straight, yet parenting Chris with him. They become close, are seen doing all sorts of domestic family stuff.

What a painful existence would that be, to raise your child with someone whom you love and desire, but who you think cannot ever return your feelings? Who wants that? Of course Eddie would want to move on!!

Then shit happens... And Eddie clearly just... spirals without Buck. Partakes in illegal fights to let off steam. Yells at Buck at a grocery store about "not being around, Christopher missing him..". They end up looking like a couple in the middle of a messy divorce.

People, including Buck, pressure Eddie into dating. Buck keeps dating women. Eddie... keeps having talks about moving on.

Looks totally dead as he tells Buck that he needs to move on, Eddie has. It's an obvious lie, and it's such a bizarre thing to say to a friend, no matter the circumstances - very relationship-coded.

Almost like Eddie was just desperate to voice those words out loud, wishing that saying them would turn them into reality. Move on, I have!! (Move on, stop approaching me, stop tormenting me like this.)

....

So move on, Eddie...

....

There's Buck, urging Eddie to ask Ana out.

......

Bobby, telling Eddie that he will always miss the family he once had, but he loves the new one he now has. So you should try moving on, Eddie!

.......

Eddie's doctor... suggesting he could be repressing things.

The talk with the doctor;

They're talking about the shooting... Until it sounds like Eddie isn't.

Eddie: I don't even think about him anymore.

Doc: That could be called repression.

Eddie: Or just... moving forward.

Then some more subtext about pining. Remember Buck... being compared to a golden retriever?

Remember the man who cornered himself on a roof? Whining that he always wanted a dog but mom wouldn't let him because "Barry was allergic!"... (Or maybe, queerphobic?)

.....

Ana: There's a lot to be said for getting back on the horse. But there's also value in learning that you don't like "horses".

Eddie: I'm sorry?

....

Carla, telling Eddie to follow his heart, not Christopher's.... (Edit. Btw, look up the pictures of those hearts, I can't add more pictures to this post.There's Buck's silly, happy "misunderstood the assignment" love-type heart symbol... The one Chris drew, the one Carla warns against following?

Dead-looking, clinical, anatomical. And it's drawn with bisexual-flag colors!!!!

Love can't be about logic and rationality, reasoning with yourself and finding a good enough match. Even if on paper it makes sense. Love needs to be an emotion. It needs to make you happy.)

.....

The first day Buck and Eddie meet:

Buck is taking selfies.

Eddie: You're in the wrong lighting, man.

Buck: Some of us don't need lighting to look good!

And...

Years later... At the dark firestation, Eddie looking at Buck, getting lost on his memory lane, forgetting to introduce Ana.

Ana: Even in the dark this place is amazing! (The parallel to "Some of us don't need lighting to look good.")

And Eddie panics.

(*panicking, looking between Ana and Buck*)

Eddie: I don't want these things to wilt!

.....

After that... Eddie, looking at Buck:

Somehow we became a ready-made family, and I... I don't know if I'm ready for that.

(and how could he be ready for that, he thought Buck was straight.)

.....

Eddie talking with his tía, learning that she's been married twice, not just once, like Eddie always thought.

Eddie, learning that she had been unable to move on from the first husband, and didn't feel ready to date... But her friends had dragged out anyway, and that's when she had met her second husband-to-be.

And it was this, meeting someone else, that made her move on. So Eddie forces himself to date, thinking that all he needs to do is meet the right person, and he'll finally move on.

.....

The scene with Marisol, setting her bag on Eddie's hallway table.

Checking that it's not falling off... because there is barely enough space for Marisol to set down her belongings.

The table is already full. There's a toy truck on it, which BUCK gave Chris, years ago,

and it takes so much room.

It's lit, under a lamp, in the center of a table, the first thing you see when you enter Eddie's home. A prized little thing, a treasure. It's clearly valued, spotlighted like art... Even though a toy like that? Would not be very expensive.

Still, it's clearly something Eddie cherishes. Chris is no longer a little kid, he doesn't play with toys like that. But the truck stays, it's something Eddie wants to keep looking at. And it's huge, centered, leaves little room for something else.

Eddie is pining!!!!

Whether he realises it or not... This man is in love, that's why his relationships feel so suffocating, why they keep failing. His heart is already taken. His romantic relationships are just glued on, they're pretense, acting, a desperate attempt to move on, from Buck.

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Hiii i'm sorry if i'm intruding on the conversation by asking this question but i'd love to hear your take on ride 'em cowboy! :] I love that song (as i do all of lil beethoven, haha) and i'm really interested in what you have to say about it (i love going through your answers to these sparks asks by the way, and i definitely relate to the feeling of wanting to write entire essays about particular songs)

Hi friend! 😁 Wow it's such a treat that people have been enjoying reading this stuff! Thanks for the ask! (And thanks Sparks-anon, you started this! I hope you will enjoy this answer as well.)

Okay. RIDE 'EM COWBOY. They had NO REASON* to go this hard with this song. (*They had every reason - this is Sparks and this is Lil' Beethoven.)

What I think cuts so hard with this song is that the majority of the song is comprised of constantly flipping the switch from praise to disdain, from favour to rejection, from inclusion to exclusion - it's a total fall from grace, it's someone flopping completely, losing it all. Every phrase crafted to hit as hard as it can, but in a slightly different way every time, cutting deeper with every line. Starting relatively simple and straightforward with the lines "They laughed with me, then laughed at me", then building with every new line, and later in the song getting more metaphorical and it's even outright violent. (Ron *really* knows how to heighten how emotionally brutal certain experiences are and knows how to cut deep into that. A true master of words.)

…And then the song says, fuck that!! This will not be my defeat! “Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//I got thrown again//Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//Get back on again”

There's many ways one could perceive those lines. It can be a “keep going despite it all”, “keep going to spite them all”, a simple “try again”, and even “just go on with your life and let them talk”, or whatever else someone needs to hear to keep them going. (Heck, if someone were to say “ride 'em cowboy” means "fuck the haters", or "fuck it - we ball", I'd call that valid, too.)

A part of this song that struck me immediately early on in my Sparks journey was “From great to good// From good to fair//To barely pass//Stay after class”. I hadn't been out of highschool that long at that point and I'd been a “gifted student” who in the end was really depressed and barely passed. I hadn't really recovered yet from how defeated that had left me feeling. So these lines were immediately my new friends. And since then my love for this song has only deepened more and more over time. I've stomped into my uni building with Ride ‘Em Cowboy blasting on my headphones countless times, on the good days and the bad. It honestly was really good at helping me deal with the pressure of having been one of four non-males in a male dominated field, often being underestimated or expected to prove myself.

“It's not your day//It's not your week//It's not your month//It's not your year” Lyric status: SICK ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧

I don't live that life anymore, but obviously there are always times in life when this song is applicable all over again. One could see it as a ruthless acknowledgement of the fickleness of people's favour and opinions (also people's opinions of themselves, I might add), and the fickleness of perceived success. And it's a strong reminder to not fall victim to it.

Instrumentally it's absolutely striking and it's such a powerhouse of a song, you don't need to be currently living it to keep loving the hell out of it. Something that I find really cool about this song as well is that when there's words, abbreviations, sayings, or references in it that you're unfamiliar with (as was the case for me as a non-American non-native English speaker) or if you don't know French (my highschool French was enough for this one and I'm a huge fan of “From open door//To merde, alors”), it doesn't make you miss out on the meaning, but you can look all that stuff up and get hit in the face by this song all over again and with extra force.

I only looked up all the abbreviations I was not familiar with earlier this year, and I got to say… “BMOC//Then MIA”, Big Man On Campus, then Missing In Action. Dangit Ron. *Chef's kiss*

…But still, the line to potentially win it all?

"Olé, then gored"

[smoothiedreams]

mha 430's spoiler

Oh, the end...haha funny story u got there horikoshi...

Letting the Jokes behind, i liked bnha's end, i don't think it was as satisfact as we wished bc we as reader had so much emotional side envolve and we wanted the best end of scneraio for all the characters, but it finished the way it had to be.

I saw a lot of people complaining abt it, i understand why they didn't like it, some of us wanted to izuku to be MORE (do u know what i mean? Like, monoma had his face on a statue at the UA and midoriya deserved the same).

I particulary find this choice of action that kohei took a bit...like, i can go with it, but it feels so sad, even if the war is over and world is a better place ( hawks for president ).

I don't know what I'm talking about, honestly. I received these spoilers out of the blue and I'm recovering emotionally from the fact that Aizawa cut his hair (another thing that I saw a lot of people complaining about, but I actually liked it, of course I prefer his old cut but I think this change of his is related to Oboro's death so it would be for the better).

I confess that I'm looking forward to Ao3 exploding with alternative endings and some fics that explore the relationships of some ships after this time skip haha

Edit: I'm emotionally attached at the image of Hizashi and Aizawa at Oboro's Tomb

[offlineblues]

(this is heavily opinionated about aiyu and yuai)

hmm so... this is mostly coming from nonsense disagreement in my head, but i feel like i want to throw it here because i was thinking about it

i got kind of perplexed recently when i saw someone's opinion (in Ysk's tag) that was something like

"Ysk is aroace coded so i don't understand why people would draw him in an intimate relationship" (worded much more blamefully to the people who do draw him intimately within his various couples as though they committed a sin for doing so)

personally... i also think Ysk is asexual, so i understand where that person is coming from with that kind of opinion. but, i didn't understand shaming those who do see it as a possibility...

it's hard to say or pinpoint the exact moment in time when he may feel vulnerable or open enough for that kind of thing... but, likely it's very much a post-canon deal. though, considering he's never experienced a romantic relationship, i can't imagine he'd automatically be averse to that kind of relationship or experience (in the way that he would never want to experience it with a romantic partner) just because of trauma reasons... trauma can be recovered from with someone you love, little by little

i don't know. coupling is partly a delusion (even with as much semi-canon evidence something like aiyu or yuai has) and i'm definitely someone who wants him to have a growing relationship over time with Aichan, so it just felt strange to see it said in such a way that it's never a possibility for him or that it's wrong to portray it that way at all

like... for me, i think as far as within the show's canon timeframe, i can agree it's out of the question. they're emotionally and psychologically not prepared for a relationship (let alone an intimate one at the time of the events)

the show takes course over time for about a year, so Ysk will turn 17 and be closer to making adult decisions for himself and forming the kind of bright future he wants to grasp alongside his partner...

for Ysk, i think it would take a lot of time to overcome the fears of losing what matters most to him, a lot of introspection to realize that those feelings are romantic ones to begin with because he's never had the opportunity to lead a normal life until after everything is settled, and then to have the realization that he wants to pursue it mutually with that partner

everything has to align rather carefully, huh...

i do try to be careful with it because i understand that the purehearted aiyu and yuai fans could be offended by sexual depictions of them (various reasons) so i keep it separated from this kind of space and don't talk about my opinions much besides vaguely because the last thing i want is my words to be twisted or misinterpreted, lol

as far as aiyu or yuai, i think Ysk wants to return Aichan's love that was shown to him, and Aichan wants to be with Ysk forever, so it's really mutual and sweet and angsty considering it all. though, even if it's healthily mutual, it would take time to get to the point of kissing or anything further (which they can and should do because it would be healing for them to experience that kind of love together as romantic partners)

...and isn't that fine? isn't it fine to envision this couple eventually healing to the point that they have mutually desired intimacy and love? after time passes?

anyway, that's just (part of) my opinion regarding that... and if you would be possibly offended that i drew them and want them to be lovey-dovey and intimate, maybe you should head out of here, haha

[whentherewerebicycles]

ok gonna journal a little bit about the first six weeks under the cut, with the caveat that i know a lot of people who have babies under one year old right now or are about to have babies, all of whom are having or will probably have different experiences than me. i feel weird talking about parenting in public because i don't want it to seem like i'm comparing experiences. i just want to write through it for myself to make sense of my own experience, i guess?? must reflective journal or i can't consolidate my own impression of what's happening haha.

some scattered thoughts:

it's a LOT of work. having good routines and practicing them a lot has helped make it feel more manageable, but it's absolutely a full-time or really more than full-time job (round the clock care!!). i cannot imagine going back to work while caring for a newborn. i am really really really really lucky to have six months of protected time (four and a half months of it paid!). but it's still a little scary to think about going back to work at six months... like how will there be enough hours in the day??

time passes SO weirdly with a newborn. i literally never know what day it is and i often have no sense at all for how long it's been since something happened. i can't believe i've been off work for six weeks... it feels like i've been away for six months and also simultaneously like i gave birth six days ago. i also totally get what people mean about developing amnesia around the newborn phase... i already am having a hard time remembering when certain things happened or when he made certain transitions.

my transition to parenthood was a little rough because of the hand pain + the wrist surgery, but it was massively, massively eased by having an easy, non-traumatic birth experience + then having my mom here to handle nights for the first three and a half weeks (with help from my sister too). like ultimately i think the wrist stuff was a blessing in disguise because it meant i HAD to rest and rely on other people. i went into parenthood with such a massive sleep deficit from two months of excruciating pain but then i was able to more or less sleep through the night for two solid weeks after the surgery. i think that meant 1) i got a lot of much-needed rest and was able to recover from birth faster, but also 2) i wasn't the person who had to deal with the most intensely fragmented phases of newborn sleep. my poor mom! but gosh what an incredible gift that was. i am sleep deprived and tired but i am not absolutely wrecked and it's 100% because she handled the most labor-intensive phase of keeping a little baby alive.

i think i have a pretty easy baby. he sleeps well (i mean after the first few harrowing weeks where they are somehow simultaneously asleep at all times and incapable of sleeping), eats well, and doesn't mind being alone in his crib for quiet time. i fully expect that if this particular phase is easier for me there will be much harder phases that are easy for other people... like probably he will be a baffling nightmare at some other phase other people's kids navigate with ease. but i'm enjoying this phase of things feeling semi-manageable. i also feel like, even though i read one million baby books beforehand, i basically did not do anything to get these results. i just got this (for now?) easygoing baby who is pretty amenable to whatever happens to him. it reminds me of what my mom has said about raising us... three of us were really easy and then my brother was the clingiest, loudest, most emotionally volatile, impossible-to-soothe, bad-sleeping little baby of all time, and my mom was just like yeah. really cures you of thinking you've got it all figured out! really makes you realize that 90% of it is just the baby's temperament and it has virtually nothing to do with how capable you are as a parent! i just want to remember this in case i do this again and the next kid is like my brother haha.

my therapist says some people get postpartum blues right away and others get a big surge of protective happy hormones that start tapering off around month three (so their postpartum blues come later). i suspect that i got the surge of happy hormones because often i am just walking along with a Song in My Heart and that feeling of 'i am overflowing with joy!!' that reminds me of the endorphin waves i get when i'm exercising a lot. so maybe things will abruptly start feeling a lot harder when this wave of hormones dissipates, and then i will have to weather that. but for now it is nice to feel really baseline happy/joyful even when i'm tired.

it took a bit longer to bond with him than i expected! for the first three weeks or so i was like, well this baby is beautiful and perfect, but also, he could just be anybody's beautiful perfect baby, you know? i liked him as a baby and was interested in him as a little guy living in my house but i did not experience an intense surge of maternal feelings at first sight or anything like that. and sometimes when he was extremely fussy or when i was really tired of taking care of him i was like aaaa great now i just have to be responsible for him forever?? he's a nice little baby but forever???? anyway i feel like it's only in the last couple weeks that i've started to feel more strongly that this is MY beautiful and perfect baby. and it's become increasingly fun and joyful to think about like oh! we just get to hang out for the next 18+ years! i get to be his mom forever! we are a little family now!

i want another one... i want another little baby... i am going to have to really scheme and save and hussle at my side jobs to make it happen, and i am very conscious of the biological window closing. i would ideally like there to be a larger gap between them (like i think in a perfect world he would be 5 when i had a second baby) but i don't think i will have the luxury of that much time. so i think i am going to wait the recommended 18 months and then start the process again. idk we will see how things feel once he is in daycare and i am strapped for time and $$ but i would sure like to do this again. and i would really like to give him a sibling. we'll see.

i just love him... i love snuggling with him... i love watching him look around at stuff... i love taking him to new places and seeing him take it all in... i love watching my friends and my family snuggle him and joke around with him... i love singing to him and watching him go from shrieking to totally relaxed just because someone's singing to him... i love lying in bed after i've put him down for the night and watching him sleep on the video monitor... i love feeling responsible for him and knowing that it's my job to take good care of him... i love watching him in the car seat mirror as he listens to taylor swift with a calmly contemplative expression on his face... i love seeing his little personality emerging... gosh! i just like this little snuggly guy who lives in my house. i like him a lot.

[lpsotd]

Another anon who read the tags on your last post here! I've felt the need to write something myself since your situation feels so similar to mine when I was younger and maybe my experiences will help you in some way. Feel free to not respond to this if it's uncomfortable, it's totally okay! :)

I also didn't have a supportive family when it came to my interests, still kind of don't. I'm 22 (soon to be 23) and my family members are still looking at me funny regarding my hobbies, just like they did when I was 14-15. It was weird for them to see a child… liking toys and shows made for kids I guess?? They've also said that I was mature for my age, but let me tell you this is INCREDIBLY coercive. ''Since we've called you mature, you wouldn't want to betray us and do something childish now, would you?'' - guys. Just because YOU'VE called me mature doesn't mean that it's true. Maybe I am mature but EMOTIONALLY or got good grades at school. But it doesn't necessarily mean that I will abandon anything that brings me comfort and joy for the sake of a byname that won't mean anything to me. Ever. I think that being mature also means accepting what is dear to you and not being ashamed of that. Being mature is being responsible for your own well being - which you do by enjoying your hobbies! By surrounding yourself with things that will make you get through life a bit easier. Throwing everything out, or denying ever liking said thing is the childish thing to me here.

It's good to read that you want to embrace who you are! After all - we only have one life to live. Why waste it on pleasing everyone around instead of ourselves? ESPECIALLY if it's a hobby that does NO HARM to anyone (well maybe except your wallet). Don't ever let go of what you love, unless YOU decide it's time to move on. I still keep my LPS collection after all those years, after being told countless of times to ''sell them, because you will save some good money'' or just to give them away. What if (stay with me here) I WILL decide what to do with MY property?

And regarding those people who've belittled you for your interests - I am still recovering from the same thing that happened almost a decade ago at school. But I've learned that not everyone behaves like those mean bullies - maybe some people are genuinely interested in what I have to say? Maybe we can bond over this? Maybe I can get a new friend who will accept my ''weird'' hobbies? And thanks to that mindset I've tried opening to more and more people, only to find out that those bullies were the MINORITY and usually people are glad to hear they're not alone in their hobbies or pleasant memories. It made me feel so much less anxious about myself, I can't recommend trying to open up enough!! Sorry if this ask got long, I had plenty of thoughts in my brain it seems, haha. Anyway, OP you're not alone in your struggles and if you have any worries feel free to say so! Stay awesome <3

~lots of love from anon

i think it's kinda insane that adults expect children to immediately grow out of the things they like in favor of more "mature" interests and media. like, why can't that 13 year old watch my little pony? would you prefer it if they were watching that or something like euphoria? 😭 why is it so bad and weird when children are acting like children and want to engage with media that was literally created for them. that's something i don't think i'll ever understand

i'm happy to now be surrounded by people who care about me and indulge in my interests, and i hope you are able to have that too anon !!

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 17:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Torture, again not exactly torture but kiiiinda torture, there's a lot of pain involved but it's a side-effect, sort of?

We'll get to the proper torture when it's victims our kids are emotionally invested in xD

And that smut with Ominis will be coming up next chapter! ;) I'm gonna need to add a new tag to the fic haha x3

FYI: For those not too familiar with the name, an 'athame' is a ceremonial blade often used in magical rituals, it's usually a black handled and double-edged dagger.

"Thank you for the breakfast, Tibsy, it was delicious." The Keeper nodded as the small elf cleared the dishes from the table.

Tibsy beamed brightly at the compliment, giving the three a little bow before popping away, likely to feed their guest back at Dìon.

"Will both of you be working on the wards today as well?" Ominis asked, taking a relaxed sip of tea, his expression content after their meal. "The two of you seemed rather tired when you got home yesterday evening."

"I think we can continue tomorrow and relax a little together today, maybe get some homework done too." The Keeper smiled wryly, their guest needed time to recover too.

They'd spent a fair amount of time and effort healing the woman after their tests. Neither they nor Sebastian were particularly skilled healers however, so it had taken a while just to perform basic treatment with Tynx's help, and they’d left the rest to her own natural recovery.

"We had some ideas for the underground area's security, but I’ll need to double check our math first, our tests with the Guardian prototypes failed pretty abysmally too." The Keeper grimaced lightly, absently cleaning a spot of sauce on the table with their napkin.

"We weren't very hopeful for those without the Leyline link anyway, it's fine to rework them later." Sebastian gave them a gentle pat on the hand and the Keeper returned his efforts with a fond smile.

"Fair enough." The Keeper nodded. "According to Tynx, the greenhouses are almost complete as well. We can probably start moving the plants in soon."

"I suppose I shall continue my search for Anne tomorrow then, I got a promising lead in Cragcroft yesterday." Ominis hummed thoughtfully.

"That reminds me, yesterday we took a quick dip in the lake since we were in the area, and while there, Sebastian and I found something for you, Ominis." The Keeper smiled softly as they stood to retrieve their satchel.

"So that's why Sebastian was missing a sock." Ominis chuckled.

"I swear some critter must have made off with the blasted thing." Sebastian grumbled. "How'd you tell anyway?"

"Your steps sounded uneven." Ominis drawled dryly.

"Yeah, right." Sebastian snorted sceptically.

The Keeper retook their seat, satchel in hand as they spoke. "Here we go, hopefully you'll like what we found. Though, I will say, Ominis, that you don't have to accept this if you don't want to."

"Oh?" Ominis tilted his head to the side curiously, feeling slightly wary as well, from their words. A moment later, he jumped in surprise when the sound of the jar opening was followed by two soft and shrill voices.

"It's open, it's open! Left, let's go this way-"

"No, right, let's go right-"

"Ow! No, I want to go left!"

"Ouch! Stop it, I want to go right!"

"Left!"

Ominis blinked in confusion for a moment, before abruptly realising that the words had a familiar lisp to them. "...snakes?"

The Keeper chuckled. "Yes, I was considering giving them to you closer to your next birthday, but we've run into a small problem."

"I think you mean two small problems." Sebastian snorted. "The fact that it's not two snakes, it's one."

Ominis frowned in even more confusion, feeling more wary and uncomfortable, had they forgotten that he didn't like being a Parselmouth? Why would his lovers offer him such a thing? For a birthday gift no less.

"Sebastian's right, this little one has two heads." The Keeper shook their head in amusement as the two headed snake wiggled about drunkenly. "I'm not entirely certain why, but they can't seem to move right. I spotted them trying and failing to swim away from a dragonfly nymph in the lake."

"And what's the problem you've run into?" Ominis asked brusquely, impatient to understand why he was being gifted a two-headed snake.

"Feeding." The Keeper replied, plucking another jar from their bag, and withdrawing two worms with a mild grimace, lowering the wiggling creatures into the snakes’ jar.

Immediately, the two heads began to whip back and forth aggressively, hissing at each other angrily.

"Food food! Mine!"

"No, mine! Out of the way, I'm hungry!"

"I saw it first! You move!"

"Ow! Stop pulling! Hey!"

"They're fighting…" Ominis' eyes widened in understanding.

"Yes, even though there's more than enough worms to go around, we can’t feed them if they keep thrashing about." The Keeper rolled their eyes in exasperation. "Likely because only one of the heads can look 'in front' at a time. Perhaps you can do something about that?"

Ominis hesitated for a moment, listening to the little hisses of distress, and feeling his sympathy for them mount with every cry. He too knew what it was like to feel so at odds with oneself, the pain of being torn in two directions. If he could help ease someone's struggle and conflict, shouldn't he?

Finally, he sighed and focused on the small voices, tapping into his birthright with a fluidity that he resented. "Stop fighting little ones, there is enough food for both of you."

The hisses of the snakes immediately stopped, the two heads staring at him in shock for several seconds.

"It speaks, how?"

"How?"

"Yes… I am a speaker of your tongue, you needn't fear, you can share, there is plenty of food here." Ominis couldn't suppress a smile at the curious little voices.

"Lots of food?"

"Really?"

"Yes, so just open your mouths and wait for the food to come to you." Ominis nodded firmly.

"...okay… food? Now?"

"Yes, food food, I'm hungry!"

Ominis chuckled, finding their young, innocent voices and immediate trust rather adorable, quite unlike the sinister snakes his family kept around the manor. Deadly sentries that kept his parents abreast of everything their children did. "You can feed them now."

"Finally." The Keeper sighed and lowered the wiggling worms into the small snakes' open mouths, the twin snake's patterned tail flicked excitedly as they chomped down on the fat and juicy worms.

The twins quickly swallowed the worms and opened their mouths again, hissing insistently. The Keeper shook their head at the demanding creatures, they didn't need to be a Parselmouth to understand that gesture.

As they fed the snakes another two worms, the Keeper added. "I rescued this one because I've never seen a two headed snake before. It's up to you if you want to keep them but I doubt they'll survive on their own."

Ominis nodded in agreement, it sounded like the snakes couldn't even move properly, they would be incredibly vulnerable to predators and unable to hunt when they were fighting over both food and direction. He'd never been proud of his ability to speak parseltongue, but if he could use it to help…

"Ah, full… sleepy."

"I wanna sleep somewhere warm…"

"Yes, warm warm, it's cold."

"Come here then." Ominis sighed, opening his palms. "They'd like somewhere warm to sleep."

The Keeper gave an approving nod, pouring the snakes out of the jar and into his hands. The two heads immediately began to hiss happily and flick their tongues against his skin.

"Warm! Speaker warm!"

"Speaker smells nice… sleepy…"

Ominis blinked in surprise at how small they were, small enough to fit into one hand. The feeling of their cool scales against his skin was surprisingly soft and he cradled them to his chest, running a finger along their body.

"Hehe tickles!"

"Mmm feels nice, again Speaker again!"

Ominis chuckled, stroking a finger under the chin of the snake that liked it and feeling the twins coil up in his palm to sleep after a few moments. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad being a Parselmouth…

The Keeper's eyes softened at the affectionate expression on Ominis' face. "It's not so bad, isn't it?"

Ominis startled slightly when the Keeper spoke his thoughts, a knowing smile on their face as they continued with. "If you were not the one with this ability, they would have died."

Ominis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You seem very intent on convincing me of that. It is not I, that these little ones owe their lives to, it was you who rescued them."

"Be that as it may, from how you've described your family, I doubt any of them would have helped a crippled snake who can't even move right." The Keeper shook their head. "Neither would these snakes have let us non-Parselmouths properly help them without a fight and that could have ended poorly."

"They aren't kidding, you should have seen how aggressive those snakes were, crazy considering that they're practically babies." Sebastian shook his head before glaring at the Keeper accusingly. "Can't believe you didn't tell me there was a tiny pair of snakes biting the palm of your hand the whole time."

"Barely felt it with you snogging me that hard." The Keeper waved their hand dismissively, causing Sebastian’s cheeks to flush with a mixture of surprise and pride, as they returned their attention to Ominis. "Point is, with you, they will be both heard and loved."

Ominis remained silent for several minutes, before he finally sighed and nodded reluctantly, giving the sleeping twin snakes a gentle smile. "I suppose you're right… they will be loved."

The Keeper smiled, pleased that he had come around to their perspective. Parseltongue was a rare and unique ability, it was pointless for Ominis to begrudge himself something valuable that he couldn’t change anyway. Eventually he'd come to accept and maybe even appreciate his gift, if they had anything to say about it.

"What type of snake are they?" Ominis asked curiously after a few moments of petting the snakes.

"Common Watersnake, non-venomous and harmless to humans. Apparently, they're killed often because they resemble the venomous cottonmouth." Sebastian grimaced. "Can't believe some idiots can mistake these cute little things for deadly snakes and kill them for it, feels rather unfair to them."

Ominis went silent again, before murmuring a quiet. "People often hurt those mistaken as dangerous just because of who they were born to or how they look."

"That's why those people are idiots and neither of us will stand for it." Sebastian repeated emphatically and a small shy smile teased the corners of Ominis lips, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"Let's spend some time today setting up a proper living space for the snakes too." The Keeper chuckled. "They're small but we shouldn't keep them in a jar."

Ominis flashed a wry smile. "That's true, fortunately, I am familiar with what a snake nest should have."

"Great, because all I've got are books and they're not particularly helpful when it comes to details." Sebastian grinned.

"Helps that we can simply ask the twins what they like or don't." The Keeper nodded, before glancing at the small coil of snake sleeping in Ominis' hand.

"Since you seem quite unable to move." With a wry smile, the Keeper stood from their chair, kneeled by Ominis' feet, and took his free hand in theirs, grazing the back of it with their lips. "Tell us what we should gather, we are at your service."

Ominis shivered at the sensation, his ears turning red this time while Sebastian snickered behind his hand and Ominis cleared his throat pointedly.

"Well, we'll need some branches and wood shavings for bedding, cypress or aspen would be suitable." Ominis hummed. "We'll also need to pick a good spot that's well-ventilated and will let them sunbathe whenever they like."

"They live by the water, so they probably like it humid." Sebastian added. "We can make the bedding a little wet so they can stay hydrated by burrowing in it."

Ominis nodded, looking more enthusiastic about providing the snakes a comfortable home.

The Keeper smiled affectionately as they sat on the floor, taking out a journal to jot down the supplies they'd need, while the two boys discussed their options. They really did like this side of Ominis, he was such a sweetheart despite everything he'd experienced, as well as his own cunning nature.

"Alright then, while we're gathering these materials, you have a more important job." The Keeper nodded, putting away their journal and smiling as Ominis tilted his head in confusion. "You get to pick names for them."

The Keeper hummed as they scratched several notes in their journal, this second round of tests had gone well. They'd successfully stretched the amount of time it took, for the woman to make it from her cell to ground floor, to a solid hour.

It had been rather entertaining watching her slide down the stairs repeatedly, after said stairs transformed into slippery slopes when the cell wards detected the breach. Though, as fun as that had been, it had been more surprising when she'd used a rather creative combination of Bombarda and a door to successfully propel herself up the slides.

Speaking of doors…

A muffled scream came from the woman bound to the cell's cot as Sebastian carefully slid a small and sharp athame under the skin of her right palm, like one might skin an apple. Her eyes were filled with tears and her body struggled to contort with every shift of his blade.

The ropes binding her jerking limbs to the cot's sturdy metal frame, wrung against her wrists, and burned the skin under them with every spasm. Her cries gurgled and choked around the saliva gathering under the cloth they'd gagged her with, preventing her from biting her own tongue. Rolling his eyes at the sound, Sebastian continued to shear until finally the entire strip of her palm peeled right off.

"And, there we go." Sebastian grinned, looking proud of his work as he raised the bloody layer of skin, or more so the doorknob attached to it, with a pair of prongs, discarding it into the blood-filled bowl under her hand without much care for the splash that followed.

The woman continued to cry and whimper despite the announcement that her suffering had reached its end, perhaps she couldn't understand words at this point.

"Quit complaining, nothing a bit of wiggenweld won't cure." The Keeper huffed as they finished jotting down their notes. "Be glad we're even helping you remove the damn thing."

"Could've left you with a knob permanently attached because you tried a door that you had no reason to open." Sebastian agreed, flipping the bloody blade in the air, seemingly unbothered by the flecks of red that splattered across the floor as he caught it again with ease.

The Keeper rolled their eyes at his showing off but couldn't conceal the fondness in their smile. In truth, they were deeply impressed by Sebastian's steady hand and keen wit.

His idea of furnishing the underground floors with sliding doors adorned with charmed fake doorknobs was quite brilliant. Forcing the escapee to either sever their hand or at least injure themselves, costing them the use of a hand even if they choose to simply detach the doorknob from the door and leave the knob stuck to their hand. Thus, costing the escapee precious time.

And they'd thought they couldn't possibly become more enamoured with this boy.

This idea alone had severely impacted the woman's dungeon clear time, as she had been further stymied when trying to escape the castle grounds, now that the gates were locked behind passwords. Of course, they had always intended to make the gates securely locked but getting a proper gauge of the time difference a password system made, versus one that could be unlocked with Alohomora, was important to their statistical evaluation of its effectiveness.

Assumptions, in their experience, were the most foolish yet easy mistake to make in any given scenario, the last thing they needed would be to overestimate or underestimate the effects of any individual decision at a critical moment.

The woman had then tried to scale the walls with one hand and that had cost her another two hours, several conjured ropes, and a debilitating amount of physical energy. The woman didn't even make it to the red zone before she passed out from exhaustion, and her injuries, this time.

"Well, at least that answers the question of how far the permanent sticking charm goes." The Keeper nonchalantly cast a scourgify at their partner's bloody hands with a dry chuckle. "Skin deep."

Sebastian snorted, drawing his wand with his now clean hands, and casting a scourgify on the athame in turn, before tucking it back into its holster around his waist. "Well, with that settled, I'll go see if Tynx has finished making a new door and reapply the charm if he's done."

"Sure, I'll finish up here." The Keeper nodded, tucking away their journal as Sebastian picked up the bowl and made his way towards the cell door, taking a moment to give them a kiss on the cheek on his way out.

As the cell door closed behind him, the Keeper cast a scourgify on the woman's hand, ignoring her renewed screams as the spell scraped the raw and exposed flesh clean. They waited a few moments, before ungagging her, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her head so they could pour a vial of wiggenweld into her mouth.

As soon as she swallowed the potion, they released her and cast a scourgify on their own hand to clean the oils off. The woman coughed a few times, wincing as the skin on her palm began to burn and itch as it healed.

As the Keeper began releasing the woman's hands and feet from the ropes binding them to the cot's frame, her raspy voice wheezed through her throat. "...why…"

The Keeper straightened as they finished unbinding her. "Why what."

"...why me?" The woman sobbed, curling up into a ball the moment she was released. "I never did anything bad, my dad never did anything bad. We never did anything wrong, why us? Why me? It's not fair."

The woman shrieked, her bloodshot eyes stabbing her captor accusatorily. "What did I do to deserve this?"

The Keeper stared at her blandly, their expression flat and disinterested. "You demanded a hundred galleons for mere information that wasn't worth such a valuation."

The woman stared at them uncomprehendingly and the Keeper turned to leave the cell. "I can't say anything about what you suffered before, but if you think you're the only one dealt a bad hand by fate, you're sorely mistaken."

The Keeper chuckled sardonically as they stopped by the door. "The only thing we get to choose is what type of person we become. Don't expect reality to be fair. Whatever you do will have its own consequences regardless of how extenuating your circumstances may be. You will be judged by the actions you take."

"The moment you took advantage of a stranger who did you no wrong, you lost any moral high ground to bemoan your unjust fate." The Keeper pushed the door open and closed it behind them.

"Then why are you doing this!?" The woman protested, pushing herself up weakly. "Doesn't that apply to you as well?"

"Of course it does. I simply care not for moral grounds, nor do I expect any sort of fairness for myself. That is the person I chose to be, and I am well aware that if I fail, I will taste a hell far worse than the one I grew up in." The Keeper flashed her a sharp grin as they locked the cell door. "All I have to ensure… is that I play every card in my deck and never lose."

As long as you know yourself, no one can tell you who you are. Strength is being able to smile even when it's hard to.

Smile… her father's last words resonated through her mind, she wondered how long it'd been since she'd smiled. She gazed at her own reflection in the cold metal of her cot's frame, the worn and tired face staring back at her bore nothing but worry lines.

She could barely remember his voice, but she could still remember her father's face clearly. Like hers, it had been worn and tired from the hard life of caring for his daughter alone in the middle of the woods while on the run from the Ministry. Even then, she could also remember his smile, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled in little crow feet.

He'd been a hard worker, tilling their garden without a single complaint, tending their crops with a gentle hand. Every day of his suffering that she bore witness to, made anger burn inside her ever hotter and she’d held on to that anger for her entire life. How could anyone believe that such a kind and strong man would murder his own wife with dark magic?

When he passed away, that anger compelled her to remain in their small hut. He'd once told her that he hoped she would return to the town after he passed, to see what had become of it and if his friends were still well, but she couldn't understand why he would say such a thing.

What did she care for the people who betrayed and abandoned them? Why would she return to the town, beg for their help or acceptance? No, she would stay in the place her father had built. It was theirs and it was all that mattered.

When people had occasionally come by her home seeking help, her anger compelled her to spit in their face and turn them away. What did she owe them? No one had helped her when her father was sick, no one had helped him when he begged his friends to care for his daughter when he was being accused.

Not that she really wanted them to, if someone had been willing to take her in, he would have allowed the Aurors to arrest him, and she didn't believe that he would have been found innocent. Nobody cared about them, so why should she care about anyone else?

Her angry, bitter, and hateful face stared back at her in silver. When had she become like this? When had her face become so heinous? A pang of grief gripped her heart and her eyes welled with tears again. What would her father say if he were to see her now?

As long as you know yourself…

Did she? Did she know who she had become? As she ripped her eyes away from her reflection and wrapped her arms around herself, the answer burned in her heart.

She'd become just like the people who'd turned their backs on her father.

Notes:

https://www.susquehannockwildlife.org/2021/11/19/two-headed-water-snake-finds-a-home-at-the-wildlife-center/

Aren't they cuuuuuuute? I took one look at this two-headed Watersnake and immediately fell in love, so I just had to add them to this story! ♡w♡

And, if you guys don't know how dragonfly nymphs eat, you should look it up, it's honestly quite an unsettling sight, one you might expect to see in an Alien movie rather than real life xP (Still kinda cute too tho)

Also, I wonder if anyone realised that the lake on the map is actually the Hogwarts Legacy logo x3

[deathbypufferfish]

I don't think I'm going to emotionally recover from this for weeks haha

[lunar-years]

🕯️🍬🔪🌿 🍦 - for the writer ask game

🕯️ on a a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

uhhh... 4? It's my least favorite part of the writing process because 1) I write out of order and am also a proponent of the 'Write Now Edit Later' method so sometimes when it actually comes time to edit the draft is roughhhh and it is a PAIN to wad through. also 2) I am someone who needs to read through my work approx. 5000 times before I feel ready to post it which is. a very annoying way to be. (and then I always find at least 3 more errors as soon as I click Publish anyway, lol.)

🍬 post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

Stranger Things: Steve Harrington's Dad is not abusive and Steve isn't chronically abandoned by him or whatever. They simply do not get along in a very normal father and teenage/young adult son kind of way where Steve thinks his Dad soooo doesn't understand him and is a corporate square bore and Steve's dad wants Steve to grow up a bit and take some responsibility. (Mind you, the only comments Steve makes about his dad in canon are like "oh no my dad made me get a job :(" or "oh no my dad is going to be pissed I threw a party with teenagers and beer when he was out of town :(" which are like...totally normal parent things?) I have NO idea why "Steve's Dad is at best neglectful and at worst physically and emotionally abusive" became "basically canon" for like 85% of this fandom but it drives me NUTS. I would just like it to be acknowledged as the headcanon it certifiably is, thank you.

Ted Lasso: Ted had the best possible ending for his character (in returning to Henry) and this was the natural culmination to the arc they'd been building for him for three seasons.

🔪 what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

uh, football ⚽️🤪

Jk jk lmao, I feel like I haven't written about anything that outlandish? Maybe that time I watched 15 minutes of Fast and Furious on Youtube so I could make it Jamie's favorite movie LOL.

Also, I currently have a tab open on how to help a recovering addict coming out of rehab (for Jamie father fic purposes) which isn't a *weird* topic by any means but would surely be alarming to my family members were they to open my laptop haha.

🌿 give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

switch stories!! Career Fic exists because I got bad writer's block on Jamie Father Fic. And now that I'm stumped on chapter 2 of Career Fic, I'm back to Jamie Father Fic! Also don't be afraid to write out of order. If I'm writing a fic because of one (1) fleshed out scene I have in my head meant to be the stories climax, I simply write that first. Don't force yourself to start at the beginning just because you think you ought to!

Also...if writing is a hobby for you, treat it as such and don't force yourself to write if you're not feeling it. Deadlines are arbitrary and your story will still be there tomorrow! and keep it fun (i like sitting down with a glass of wine or a pot of tea and a blanket to make it cozy as I write 🥰)

🍦 name three good things about a character you hate

uhhh idk what characters I hate apart from the characters I'm meant to hate LOL.

James Tartt Sr:

Gave us Jamie

Is the 1/2 of the Equation for why Jamie exists

the actor who plays him was really hot when he was younger (just like Jamie) 🤪

Writing Ask Game

[yevmarie]

Just my mental state and thoughts below

Please go past it if you don't want to read it. The idea is not to ask for any comfort, or whatever may seem I need. I just want to let go of my thoughts in written form. Yeah, in public, but still in my blog. So…

---

There have been almost four hard weeks already since the breakup. I'm emotionally exhausted and tired of repetitive haunting thoughts. I'm constantly pushing myself to get rid of recalling him digging into work (which is not much unfortunately), looking for a new job to cover my basic needs (haha, I won't find anything worthy as I'm just useless and still need to live separately), asking myself what if I move to my home city and these four years would be washed away… But the rational part of me says it doesn't work this way. And I'm sure I'll drown in depression more than now being with my old parents with no friends/acquaintances around as the home city is still dangerous and gets missile attacks.

I miss him badly, but I don't see any reciprocity from him. I found him as my soulmate, but definitely, soulmates don't do such things, right? I'm even more stupid giving him a chance to fix the things, hearing him he'd like to do it, but not seeing corresponding actions so far, instead continuing conversations with the girl he cheated on me with. Maybe it was just the way he soothed my pain lying again.

I think I'm starting to realize which lesson this situation has brought me: not betraying myself first, loving myself again, being independent finally from everyone, accepting myself, and enjoying being on my own not being afraid of loneliness. Finally understand I really could love and care (not sure I'll be able to do it once again towards someone), but no one ever will love me back so unconditionally as parents and me. It's very sad I came to this conclusion only after the breakup, not after my one-year therapy.

I assume I did everything wrong towards myself pushing down my personality, being a comfortable girl, swallowing his anger, and trying to be the 'best' version of myself for him. He admitted that I was the perfect one. So fucking perfect that he didn't appreciate that and decided to cross the lines. Sadly, no one is perfect, and I can't be such as well. But maybe I'm just trying to purify his shitty actions by explaining my false ones. I don't know. All I see is that I've never been such before, it's not me. And I don't know whether it's the real him currently. But I assume I was just blind.

Maybe I'm just too demanding towards myself again willing to get everything I want and need just in a snap and I just need time, to slow down, ground myself, and distance myself from him mentally, letting us move on separate ways. I don't know the right answer yet. I hope I'll find it, if not, then recover and start a new brighter and happier chapter of my life.

Chapters by the way. There is no privacy at my friends', so it's difficult to focus on writing. But hell, I want to continue this. At least the imaginary world brings me more calmness and comfort, than the real one. And there's the third chapter almost ready to be published, and the fourth is under work when I have minutes of privacy. I hope I'll figure out how I can put writing in my routine.

Take care of yourself and see you soon.

[monstersinthecosmos]

could you go into more detail re: how you changed the post-bom smut in chapter 9 of TTSR? i looove the whump+smut combo but i totally get what you meant by thinking it wouldn't be realistic for keith to even recover from what you initially had in mind, esp. given it's a multi-chaptered fic and listen we have places to get to we have burns to slow and daddies to kink and whatnot. but still i am kinda foaming at the mouth to know what the original plan was LOL, if you're up to talking about it ofc. btw it's sheith VC anon and i've just started reading IWTV! lestat cracks me the fuck up but i feel like louis would sound just as ridiculous from someone else's pov, arguably more so. girl you are out there standing still in the middle of the pouring rain for hours. love the moments when it stops being an interview and becomes a psychoanalysis session instead, hey it's free therapy. if he's even aware of such a strange and novel concept yet. also the AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE COFFIN bit made me lose it

WHAT A DELIGHTFUL ASK IN MY INBOX FIRST THING IN THE MORNING HAHA. LOUIS PLZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11 i s2g lol baffled-idiot-at-the-zoo-core

Gosh so like, when I write outlines, I kinda

list the points out

in the bottom of the document

that i can always peek down and just see the next part im trying to make it to

AND THEN I ERASE THE LINES AS I GO HAHA. So there's no real record of my original outlines oops. So tbh I don't remember allllll the details but I do have a couple clues from DMs with my TTSR cheerleader:

Basically, like, in the first aid/aftercare area of the chapter I was gonna have Keith in like COMPLETE hysterics hahahaha but I'm kind of a slow writer so idk the trials part of the chapter took WEEKS to write so like. It's hard for me sometimes because in my mind I feel like "I've been staring at this scene for weeks and it's getting boring" without remembering that it would take like, idk 10 minutes to read? I get very worried that my fics are long and boring LOL. But like working on the trial for weeks where it was like so dismal and violent and dark, I think it MAKES SENSE that someone would be in hysterics, but I also felt like.!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted the sex at the end of the chapter to be like quiet and intimate but for Keith to be really shut down and uncomfortable afterwards, and I wanted him to pull away and have walls up. Like to be in hysterics, then to have sex, then to calm down and be really embarrassed that he was in hysterics in the first place, and get freaked out that they're being too intimate.

But it feels like at a certain point I'm not trying to like slow burn or drag the story out FOR THE SAKE OF DRAGGING IT OUT, I don't want to include those things if they feel gratuitous. Does that make sense? Because I've read some bad slow burns where I felt like the author was being purposefully verbose to inflate the word count so that you FEEL SLOW BURNED by the slog of words but not necessarily by what's happening in the story? To me, slow burning is about what the characters are DOING and what's happening and how everyone feels, not strictly about making people sit through 100k of build up. You can slow burn someone in 3k if you're purposeful! So like without my original notes anymore what I do remember is

Keith was going to be in COMPLETE hysterics. The notes probably were like "Keith comes out of the trial puking and has a huge meltdown" and when you write notes it feels kinds harmless but then when you write like idk 15k about the trials suddenly it's like "a huge meltdown" feels like Too Much.

Shiro drugging him wasn't in the original outline; this was my excuse to get him calm and loopy instead of having a metldown.

I felt like Keith emotionally shutting down during sex at the end was going to be TOO MUCH so I let Shiro take care of him a little more. A compromise was that I added that he COULDNT COME LOL I just thought it would like still give me an excuse to have him be frustrated/burnt out/whumpy but without pushing it so hard. (Of course Shiro figures out a way to get him off anyway because I didn't want to like edge the reader on that either, that also felt a little cruel LOL)

I don't recall if I planned whose bedroom they'd be in but I let Shiro fell asleep at least before Keith leaves. FALLING ASLEEP IN KEITHS BED LOL FEELS SERIOUS.

I also think I wrote something about how he wasn't going to want to see Shiro's face or be on top in the second scene because in the opening scene he's on top for the first time and he's really nervous and uncomfortable and doesn't like it. So like instead of the BOM trial bringing them CLOSER I thought it was going to like push them further from each other because he was too traumatized LOL.

BUT IDK IN THE MOMENT ONCE I ACTUALLY SAW HOW THE TRIALS WENT I JUST FELT LIKE IT WAS TOO MEAN LOL. AND I DECIDED IF HE'S VERY HIGH AND EXHAUSTED HE CAN AT LEAST PARTICIPATE AND I DONT HAVE TO HURT SHIRO'S FEELINGS LOL. AND HE CAN STILL FEEL VERY EMBARRASSED AFTERWARDS WHICH IS THE NEXT CHAPTER THAT I'M WORKING ON NOW.

ajsdkglasdg

[weedhorse69]

1) what anime/TV series would u currently recommend for me?

I recommend three body problem. It's trippy and it was really good. I also think I recommend dungeon meshi, or delicious jn dungeon if you haven't seen it already. I've been loving it with my friends.

2) what's the song you're most obsessed with as of currently?

I'm obsessed with mundian to bach ke- Punjabi mc

Literally stuck in my head non stop

TELL ME URS OF THE HOUR!!!!

3) I'm so sorry but I don't have any pets rn unless lyn counts

*insert picture of lyn

4) how's your family doing?

for the most part they are okay!!! My mom is recovering from cancer but I've been sending her doordash cards when she doesn't have the strength to get stuff for herself.

5) are you still with your adhd puppy dog gamer boyfriend? If so, how's he doing? What's he up to?

Yes I am!! In fact we're engaged!!!

*insert picture if ring

And he's good but stressed as hell. He's trying to pass grad school.

6) what're you up to? Doing anything with the degree?

Actually I work on security panels now haha. I troubleshoot them with installers to help people make sure they are working correctly. I almost started working on rockets again but I decided against it because at the time the US was still in the war in Iran, and I'm glad I didn't take the job since the US started sending weapons to Israel shortly afterwards effectively funding a genocide. So I am no longer working on rockets, and I am glad, and now I work on security panels for anywhere from schools to government buildings to businesses to rich people homes.

So I use my degree for security.

7) what do you think of the pin designs? Do you think they are cute/consistent? Any dog/ breed recs?

I LOVE YOUR PINS!!!!! I LOVE THE DOGS!!!!!! And I miss Chile too. Ngl I would love a wienerdog version of the pin as well. They have exceptionally long and thin noses and beautiful brown eyebrows.

*insert picture of long haired wienerdog

Also I love the name Kuma for your Shiba inu cuz I feel like that fits.

8) I haven't talked to anyone from the yl 4th ward lately!!!!!! No one except for u low key. I like you.

I want to talk to baylee but I don't know how to do it without trying to over rely on her emotionally.

[mmm-amba]

i haven't brushed my teeth yet

it's such a luxury to be able to write while recovering from covid. it's such a luxury to have the time to rest and the access to medicine/vaccines so that recovering from covid is kind of a piece of cake. also things like instacart and food delivery make things nice. yesterday was my first time ordering from chinatown.

it's end of march, and i haven't felt this relaxed since winter break. i guess that's the nature of graduate school. graduate school is such a careful balance of working hard enough to do all that you can, but not being burnt out. it's truly operating at the production price frontier:

except mentally. it's really not good mentally. last night i was pretty relaxed -- i mean, i'm sick, so yes i am going to fall behind. i was waiting for my symptoms to improve before i started to do hardcore work again. and i could finally hear myself think and... i dislike the mental toll of graduate school on me. if i'm living a lifestyle where i'm literally unable to relax, it's natural for me to internalize things like i'm not deserving of relaxing. if i'm living a lifestyle in which i'm unable to communicate my ideas because there's such an ocean of information and i'm just frozen, then it's also natural for me to internalize that my ideas don't matter, don't need to be communicated. that my questions don't need to be engaged with.

i think i'm living very much a structural problem, wherein the individuals are great and kind and lovely, but structurally it's impossible for me to feel like i'm enough in any possible facet. one good thing, though, is that when i TA for classes, i feel smart -- academically smart and also emotionally smart. some of the students here are so magnificently rude and entitled, it is such a waste of the academic system. why have a degree if you're just going to be a little [blank] [blank] who harangues the TA for the answer? maybe it would be better to hold in-person office hours so they are less [blank]-y. (i have redacted some of my adjectives to be safe, haha.)

one idea is to have a nice morning routine to ease into my day. the morning routine can include things like meditation and yoga. like an hour or two at the start of my day so that i don't wake up in a panic with dread flooding my body. :( i'm not even trying to be humorously dramatic but that is how i wake up. i didn't realize it was a problem until i verbalized it recently!

another idea with the morning routine is to include writing in it. (also, i need to include responding to people in my morning routine it's just that it makes me so anxious lmao.) my ideal morning routine is unstructured, more like i hav time in the day to do a collection of things; some days i can do yoga and meditate, other days i can write and do some stretches in bed. etc.

have i told this to anyone? but i want to write a book. i think it'd be cool. i have no idea the logistics or feasibility of this but i mean there's tons of text here. i guess i'll first try writing a draft and then start worrying about the logistics? i mean, the point is that i write a lot and i write quite easily and i like writing. so this idea is a start, and maybe it's an end too, but who cares. i think doing step 1 will illuminate what step 2 is, and maybe step 2 is okay it's not going anywhere. but just because i don't know step 2 shouldn't preclude me from embarking on step 1. because at the end of the day i like writing. chatgpt be damned!

[zepskies]

Haha this chapter was a lot, wasn't it?

I'm so glad you liked their office picnic! (I would down any form of chicken any day. 💪🏽

Oh Dean... how can you not love that man? Give him a delicious pie and he'll be the happiest man alive. 🥰

He's precious, ain't he? 😂

But of course Nick had to ruin the moment. 😒 I also hate it when people don't knock. I mean... seriously, it's not that hard. 🙄 I have a feeling that he will get on my nerves quite a lot.

Nick's such an ass. I think we can all agree. 😒 But they recovered well I think! 😂 (But yes, Nick will definitely annoy you more before this story is done.)

Poor Dean. 🤭 His dirty thoughts really got him bad. But it was still funny to read. And I love the dynamic of his firehouse fam. But now I'm wondering what happend with Benny and Andrea? 🤔

Hahaa Dean's a bit ✨distracted.✨ But I love that you love the firehouse fam dynamic!! It's super fun to write those scenes. (But don't worry, Benny and Andrea are doing their own thing, starting to date. Benny's just a gentleman who doesn't kiss and tell...and doesn't want to give Meg more ammunition. 😂)

The scene with the fire... 🥺 you wrote that so good, a single man tear streamed down my cheek. That poor woman. This job can be really hard and even when you win you loose. No wonder it send Dean's mind to wonder what could've been. 😔 But Y/N could lighten his mood and take away some of the heaviness. That was so sweet. 🥰

Aww bless you, hun. 🙏🏽 First responders lead very challenging lives and have to see the worst of humanity. And this particular call really hit home for Dean. But the reader was there for him, even if he couldn't open up to her all the way just yet (not wanting to burden her, but also emotionally spent from telling Sam the whole story). 💕

I loved it, hun! 💞 Now let's see what the real Gordon is like. 🙄

Ha! Yes we're definitely going to see what Gordon is really like in the next chapter. Stay tuned, friend!! Thank you so much for your lovely thoughts. 💞💞

Smoke Eater - Part 5

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort 

Part 5: “Twitterpated”

“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.

His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.

You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.

“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”

“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.

Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.

But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.

Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.

“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.

You followed his gaze down to your heels.

“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”

Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.

“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.

He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.

It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.

As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.

Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.

Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.

In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.

“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”   

You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.” 

He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”

“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”

Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.

“You sound like Sam,” he said.

“Oh, your brother?”

“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.

You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.

“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”

Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.

You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.

“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.

“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”

You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.

You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”

You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.

“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.

“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.

A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.

“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”

You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.

“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.

He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”

Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.

“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.   

And he smirked. “Tell me…”

Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…

But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.

Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)

“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.

He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.

“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.

Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.

“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”

“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.

Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.

“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.

Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.

“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.

Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”

You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.

“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”

He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”

“Dean,” he reminded. 

“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”

You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him. 

“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.  

“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.

Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.

“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said. 

His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.

But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.

You hung up the phone without dialing. 

“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.

“Where were we?” you asked.

Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.

“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”

You bit your lip on a deeper smile.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips. 

Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.

His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.

It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself. 

Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.

Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.

The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.

“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.

He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.

“So worth it,” he said. 

Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.

The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.

And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.

Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.

Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…

Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.

He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.

“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.

Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.

“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.

“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.

“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”

Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”

He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.

“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”

She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”

Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.

“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”

Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.

“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”

Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.

“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.

Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.

“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.

“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out. 

Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.

“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.

Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”

“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.

“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.

Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”

Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.

All hands on deck.

“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.

By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.

“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said. 

Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”

While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.

But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.

Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.

“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.

“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.

Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”

Then they got to work.

The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.

“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.

“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”

“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.

Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.

“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.  

“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.

He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.

Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.

“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.

There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.

Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.

“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.

Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.

“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.

Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder. 

They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.

Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.

Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…

And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”

Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.

Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.

He understood their pain.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.

Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.

He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.

“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.

“Long day,” Dean eventually said.

Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.

Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.

Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️

It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.

It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.

“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”

Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.

But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.

“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.

To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.

All he knew was his father, and Dean.

Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well. 

“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”

“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.

“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”

“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”

This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried. 

Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”

“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.

Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.

Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.

Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking. 

But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling. 

He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.  

“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.

“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”

“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”

“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted. 

“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”

He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern. 

“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”

He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”

“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?” 

“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”

“Lay it on me.”

“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”

Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“What’d he do this time?”

You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass. 

The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite. 

Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy. 

“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased. 

“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.

It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck. 

“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.” 

You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty blush. 

He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.

AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.

In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...

Next Time:

“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”

“What?” Gordon asked.

It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.

“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.

“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.

You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.

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[pynkhues]

🔥 fav brio fic one shots

I feel like a lot of my favourites are pretty popular, and that I've done a lot of rec lists in my fic recs tag, so to make it a little different, I thought I'd limit it to one-shots I love that I also think are super underrated. To give that a sort of yardstick, I've kept this to fics with under 100 kudos on ao3.

I've popped a whole bunch under the cut. :-)

Silent Wars by alittlespy. Beth x Rio. <1k words. Set during s2.

God, this fic is just sexy. It's little glimpses of their power plays over the months that they know each other, and every sentence seems to crackle. I love it a lot.

Leftovers by deinvati Beth x Rio. 2k words. Set during s1.

This is such a rich fic, centred on Beth's feelings of neglect in her marriage and the new charge and attention she gets from Rio. There's some really great banter in it and a push-pull that feels familiar and fresh all at once. Just a great little fic.

Broken Facade by brokensatellites / @bensonstablers Beth x Rio. 2k words. Set during 4.06.

A sexy, angsty look at what was going through Rio's head when he was with Beth in his grandmother's study. It's evocative and emotionally rich and leaves you wanting more.

I See the Rainbow and the Darkness at the Same Time by dragontortuga / @dragonturtle Beth x Rio. 4k words. Set over s1-s4.

I’m a sucker for a five/six/seven things fic, especially when they circle themes or ideas instead of acts, and this one embodies that so well, being based around seven times Beth thinks about Rio's name. The author does a wonderful job of weaving through canon moments, and really exploring Beth's evolving feelings. It's a really lovely fic!

I, You, He by FakePlastikTrees / @nakedmonkey Beth x Rhea. Beth x Rio. 3k words. Set between s2 and s3.

Any fic where Beth is bi is a winner to me, haha, but especially one that explores the twisted sort of intimacy Beth found in Rhea. The author always has a wonderful bounce to her fics, and really great dialogue, and both are on show here. Magic!

Found My Thrill by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe Beth x Rio (x Turner, kinda). 2k words. Set during s1.

Outsider opinion fics are seriously one of my favourite things in the world, and I especially love when they're so well done. The Turner voice here is so fun and rich and emotionally dynamic, and the way the author uses it to explore Turner's burgeoning obsession with both Beth and Rio is perfect.

Hate, Love and the Steps Between by @mamey2422 Beth x Rio. <1k words. Set during s3.

We don't have enough s3 fics in this fandom, especially ones that explore the complicated shifts in Beth and Rio's relationship. There's this really great sense of interiority in this fic that the author the author captures, and it makes this short little fic feel big.

I Want to Play the Game by prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania Rio x Turner, background Beth x Rio. <1k words. Set between s2 and s3.

This angsty little fic where Turner watches Rio jerk off while he has him recovering and snitching in the hotel lives rent free in my head. It perfectly balances the fucked up potential of Rio x Turner and I just love it a lot.

Sure am Using You by aniara Rio x OC. Beth x Rio. 2k words. Set during s1.

I talk about this fic all the time, and I still can't believe other people aren't obsessed with it, haha. As you can probably tell from this list already, I'm just super into it when the dynamic between two characters bleeds over into other relationships or becomes a point of curiousity. This fic does that so well, as Rio's casual hookup starts to realise he's got someone new in his life, and how their hookups start to become informed by that. Love it.

Send Me a 🔥+ a Topic, and I’ll Tell You My Honest Opinion About It