#just kidding that would require somebody to fuck me. who said that

[sergle]

I hope you guys like it when I talk about Hugo bc it's going to get 10x worse when I eventually get him a baby sibling

[badomensgoodomens]

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER 3

Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: really random smut. soz. not proofread! really random. definitely for the plot moment.

i hope you guys eat this up like you did with the teaser.

taglist at the bottom

It was nearing the end of the US tour, and honestly, my bones ached. We were all drained, even Jolly, who always kept a calm-ish composure, was antsy. It was our one day off, Matt dragged us to some shopping plaza. 

It was lowkey chill, just sitting in the food court talking about some post tour plans. I swear I saw a flash of red hair, it made me sit up a little straighter. But when I turned to look, there was nobody. God, I was so exhausted I was seeing shit now. Nick was chatting about how apparently a pretty girl moved in next door to the house he shared with his brother. About the time that kid got a girlfriend. 

Nicholas invited me to spend the break at his parents' ranch, which felt like home to me too—they were practically my second family. That was the bond Nicholas and I shared. Ruffilo had always been my best bud, Nick and Jolly coming in at a close second. I took Natasha there once, to meet my makeshift family. She didn’t show up. 

It was embarrassing on my behalf, I had boasted about her to Nicholas mom countless of times. She was excited for me, my career restricted my love life, yet there I was, hooking up with girls. 

I swear I saw her red hair again, the same red hair that we’d get into arguments about. Stupid arguments really, her hair kept staining my pillows, wondering how many other guys' pillows she stained. 

“Dude- are you even listening?” Matt leaned forward, waving his hand in my face. I rubbed my eyes with my palms. “I’m fucking wrecked.” I grumbled, taking a sip of the coke in front of me. Matt hummed, flicking through his work diary. “Got 6 months break, back on for 6 months, and off again.” I just nod, too exhausted to absorb any information. 

Back at the venue, I immediately seek refuge in between the grey sheets of my bunk, my mind a million words per minute. I fumbled with the cover of my notebook, scrambling down some notes. 

Why’s  this always gotta happen to me?

I should have known. 

I never fail to learn from mistakes, still throwing stones.

Blah blah blah….

I feel my focus fading away, i had high hopes

Running from the man I used to be, but I'm too slow. 

It was honestly the roughest of rough drafts, but I was itching to get back in the studio. Ideas were just piling up, emotions weaved within poem-like structures, they were all.. rough, and definitely needed fine tuning, but they were beginning to represent an album. 

Songwriting is not something that can be forced, it's an intricate, spread of emotion with an equally as unique and specific composition in the background. It was never good enough. Never, ever good enough. 

I had watched time and time again how the scrunched up failed drafts piled up, nothing ever feeling raw enough, or not too the fans liking. It didn’t help that Sumerian were so fucking picky on albums, or that ever since we released that song with poppy, we were obligated to tour with her. The rumours were digging my head in. 

Is this really what I want for my career? I ponder on that question too much. I should bring it up in therapy with Dr Tomson. Fuck. I was getting off track. Literally. Sumerian’s requirements for this album was a track that would hit the charts, and a minimum of 12 songs. Part of me regrets signing with them, but would I be this successful had I not? 

I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Matt had pointed that out when I woke up the next morning. I just hummed, brain on autopilot. “You know, we need an artist for the new album’s cover, considering booking times that's something we need to plan months in advance.” Matt spoke, flicking through his diary. Nick stood in the kitchen in grey sweats, brewing coffee. “I could find somebody,” he said, handing me a cup. 

I nodded, sitting on the bar stool. “Is Jolly up yet?” I asked, flicking through the pages of my notebook, briefly going over some of my rough, rough drafts. Nick shook his head, “Him and Nicholas got back late that night, something wrong with the wires and shit.” 

NEUTRAL POV

She was scribbling in her journal as the sun went down, propped up on her windowsill, once  again. Writing a poem about the bitterness and scars of her childhood, it always stuck out to her how Nevada was so quick to dance around what actually happened, yet she had no problem shouting it to the world. Whether it be from art, or journaling, it was easier to keep a manuscript, a direct display on what shaped her to be who she is today. 

It felt like all her knowledge and skills of painting were slipping through her fingers, but it hurt too much to resume again. Emotionally, and financially. Maybe this was just something she’d have to come to terms with, she couldn’t dwell on her past quite like this anymore, she wasn’t old enough to do that quite yet. 

“Let’s go out.” She said, her words rushed, standing in the doorway of Nevada's room. Nevada’s eyes were wide, she had begun to worry about her, and now she’s just popped up saying she wants to go out? 

Choose your battles I guess

Nevada and Y/n got ready together, something they used to do as rebellious teens. Good vibes and pregame drinks, music blasting through the house. All dolled up in sparkly dresses, with dawn the hype man, the two set off into the city. The city was illuminated with a series of advertisements and bustling nightclubs, everyone with the same objective; to get absolutely shit-faced. 

And so those two did, Dawn snuck Nevada away  to do.. stuff.. In the car, while she was grinding up against a particularly tall blonde boy. His voice was fuckin hot, like musky and sexy and every single adjective you could use to describe a man. And god, he smelt good, and his touch just made her melt. 

She hadn’t expected to run into her cousin and her husband, and his bandmates. But when she laid her eyes on that fine ass man standing- no. looming over the group of british boys. He introduced himself as Vessel, quite an uh- unique- name, but who was she to judge? She was horny, and there was a tall metal vocalist right in her grip. 

Everything about him was enticing, his defined, gorgeous abs, his absolute killers of canine teeth, and his voice. It made her unbelievably wet, she needed something. She’d gone without for so long, having thrown her vibrator out when she met noah. 

They snuck down the side alleyway, the booming stereo filtering through the constant revolving door around the corner. She was a fit of giggles as he hiked up her sparkly dress. Compliments rolling off his tongue, as he traced the curves of her ass. 

His fingers ran along the waistband of her panties, soft, dainty pink ones. “Yeah..? you want me to touch you?” She smiled up at him, her pearly whites making his jeans tighten. With a soft tug of the hips, she had her back to him as he fumbled with the button of his jeans. 

“Fuck… so wet.. already?” he groaned out, lining himself up. She let out a strangled moan as she sank down on his cock, overwhelmed at the size. Her fingers grasped around his wrists as he began to move, holding on for dear life. 

It was a quickie in a back alley way, but it didn’t stop the shame when she woke up in his bed the next morning. 

“I’m so fucking sorry oh my god my cousin is going to kill me-” she spouted off, pacing around this poor guys island bench. He sat at the barstool, eating bacon and eggs. 

“Stop stressing.” he huffed gruffly, a sleepy look on his face. 

“Dude- like.. Respectfully, youre a fucking stranger, i’m in your house, you’re in an anonymous band bro!!” She shouted, a little bit more than panicked. 

“It was a quickie, nothing more. We can be friends if you’re so worried about it.” he mumbled, eating his food. 

“Ugh…” she sat down on the barstool next to him, stealing his coffee cup. “So… what’s it like being a rockstar?” 

“Busy. Why do you ask?” he questioned, turning to face her. 

“Well… I dated- sorry, hooked up with a rockstar and never really asked him about it.” she shrugged, not caring if it was an overshare. 

“How come?’ he asked, a curious tone in his voice. 

“Didn’t necessarily stick around for me to ask. Was more of a ‘pump and dump’ guy.” she responded, toying with the keychains of her car keys.  

“Don’t ever say that again.” He cringed, resuming eating. “So why’d you hook up with him in the first place?” 

“He was hot.” 

“No shit Sherlock, other qualities.”

She sat for a moment, really questioning everything. Why. why, why? 

“He was carefree, wasn’t afraid to be himself, but was a bit afraid of commitment.” was the answer she scrounged up. He just hummed, “So who was it?”

She grimaced, awaiting this question. “I'd rather die than tell you because I think you guys at least have connections.”

“How’d you meet this douche anyways?” 

“I was studying art and design at a local uni, he was studying design briefly.” 

“You do graphic design?” Vessel asked, looking down at her quizzically. 

“Mostly art, but I want to turn it digital.” she responded, pulling out her phone to show him pictures. He studied each unique piece intricately, his face lighting up. A man who could appreciate real art. 

“How much would I have to pay you to design an album cover?” he asked, putting the phone down. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

 “What?” 

“I like your style, I'm offering you a chance to work with me.” he states bluntly, staring at her. “What the fu-” he cut her off, “we can get you head of the design team, i liked your work and i’m willing to pay however much.” 

“Don’t you have like.. bandmates to discuss this with?” 

“bandmate, others are tour personnel.” 

“Interesting- anyways, are you sure?” 

“Yes, Being on the design team also means you’re in charge of designing different things like merch, billboards and visuals. It sounds stressful, but the pay is good and you’ll have a chance to come on tour with us.” 

“Fuck man- take a girl out to dinner before telling her this” 

He chuckles, grabbing out a notepad. 

“I’ll write my details down, I can get you employed asap, if you want to do this.” 

“Do I have time?” she asked, rubbing her thighs anxiously. He nodded, Her phone rang and she fumbled to answer it, bringing the nearly dead phone to her ear. 

“Dude where the fuck are you-” 

It was her sister. 

“Hi, first off! I'm 23. I can be wherever I please, but can you please come pick me up?”

“Only you’d get a job opportunity out of hooking up with someone.” Nevada laughed, driving a ridiculously hungover Y/n home to their shared townhouse. “Hey- we are cool now! He’s a friend, and he said I could go on tour with him.” she retorts back.

“Are you trying to seek vengeance for noah?” Nevada asked, sipping shitty iced coffee. “Most definitely. That fucker thinks he can act like he didn’t tell me he loved me mid sex, he can suck it when im touring with his favourite band.” 

“Absolutely cold,” Nevada laughed, the hood was down of Dawn's convertible, the wind blowing through her wavy highlights. The air smelt of sea salt, the beach not being far from their house. She felt a little more free now, ultimately deciding to take up Vessel's offer, on both the album cover and design position. Although she would be leaving Nevada to manage the cafe on her own, Nevada knew she needed this. A push in the right direction, to make some new friends, and perhaps run into some old ones. 

Noahs POV 

Holy fucking shit maybe i wasn’t hallucinating. 

In the sea of fans you couldn’t miss her unmistakable red hair and plump lips. It seems as though she’s gotten even more botox from the last time he saw her. Why was she even here? What could she benefit from even being here? I had to peel my eyes away from her, trying to maintain the energy of the crowd. 

She was by herself, in a tight skirt and a bikini top. I saw her towards the back, but as I progressed through the store I noticed she was nowhere to be found. It was relieving and terrifying all at the same time.

We finished our set, sweat-drenched and exhausted, but riding the high of the music. Weaving between crew members, I entered the dressing room, boys in tow. 

“Hi” 

I jumped, turning around to face whoever was standing by the door. 

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled, stepping back as she stood forward. “Natasha, how did you get through?” Jolly stated, stepping closer to her. “I’m just here to see noah!” she smiled, veneers on full display, a coy smile across her red lips. “I don’t want to see you,” I sneered, arms crossed. 

“Come onnn noah! Lighten up!” A smile flashing over her face, she stepped forward, reaching for me. An all too familiar feeling pooling in my stomach. 

“Don’t.” Jolly said firmly, stepping between us. Anger rippled through me, not wanting to swing on a woman. My palms were sweaty, why does she want to talk? Nicholas appeared at the door. “Hey do you guys want to go- what the fuck?” 

Natasha stood between us, twirling strands of red hair. Nick fumbled with his phone to contact security, visibly looking stressed, I shot a look at Nicholas. “You know, I really miss you, Noah bear.” She smiles, her annoying voice hanging heavy in the air. “What the fu- Tash you fuckin cheated on him?” Nick piped up, putting his phone in his back pocket. I cringe at the nickname, rubbing a hand over my face. The tension was palpable, silence echoing through the corridor.

“Get out of here..” I grumble, thoroughly embarrassed. Her face feigns offence, “Noah, we were made for eachother!” Nicholas tensed in the doorway, each member uncomfortable with the old yet new presence.  “Get the fuck out of here Natasha.” He calls out, leaning against the doorframe, a pure look of disdain displayed on his face. 

“Boo! You guys all suck. Noah bear loves me, and he’ll come visit me at the Inn tonight!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. Beaming with some profound pride. “I don’t fuckin like you-” “stop denying it my love!!” she shouted, in the same moment, security burst through the door, grabbing her elbow roughly. 

She wriggled and shouted at them, her body thrashing about, not keen on being forcefully escorted out. I just sighed loudly, embarrassed. My tired body collapses down onto the leather couch. The commotion catches the attention of a few crew members, specifically matt. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence. 

 “I still think she’s a porn star.”

TAGLIST: @emluvsuxo @lilcrazy011 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @briefpersonenemy @lma1986 @cheyyyyr @niicolelynn @looney-goose @sister-sebastian @dominuslunae @supersquirrel1996

The next chapters are so not going to make sense. pray for me.

[absolutebl]

Hi there! I've just returned from a two-week holiday (as I'm writing this I'm actually still driving back home, but I want to get on top of it lmao), so I would like to defer to your knowledge:

could you pretty please provide me with an update on what series ended/started while I was away? I have a vague idea, but I don't want to miss out on the things that didn't get as much promo and are therefore not on my mdl.

if you can, my watchlist will be forever thankful!!

July Report: BL that Stopped & Started & Is worth Your time

Ended July 2023

Step By Step

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one.

This was an office romance between stern boss and sweet subordinate that felt more authentic to an office environment than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. And that authenticity added tension to the narrative and character development (how novel). Now that might be because it has western source material, or it might be because it is actually kind of old-fashioned (it’s been years since I worked as an office grunt). I also really enjoyed the brothers’ relationship, and kinda wished they hadn’t attempted (and failed) to give said brother his own side BL. That one flaw made it a 9/10 for me.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

La Pluie

This BL takes to task the fated mates trope and what it means to have love chained intimately to predestination. It’s about how faith in destiny before choice diminishes the authenticity of emotion, relationships, and connection. This is a high concept to examine through the lens of a BL.

By activating + examining the soulmates trope this show is challenging a foundation of romance: the idea that there is one person meant to be your one romantic partner all your life. This means that we, as viewers, spend much of the show worried about it having a happy ending, and that’s the source of both its brilliance and tension: would the narrative have the strength to truly challenge its own romantic core? But, ultimately, all this elevated complexity was executed in a somewhat shaky manner with the narrative derailing into some serious pacing issues and characters manipulated by miscommunication.

However, with good chemistry and decent acting all around, plus some excellent high heat and representation of consent and a few other rare tropes, this one has to (like it’s sibling show My Ride) earn a 9/10. I enjoyed it even as it made me think, so despite its flaws:

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Started July 2023 & Looking GOOD

Jun & Jun

Korea Thurs Viki 8 eps

THANK YOU BL GODS. It is so good. Like everything I want in the world. I’m incandescently happy with this show.

It’s office set,

it’s an ex idol,

everyone is pretty as peaches,

and it’s all about remembering somebody’s smell!

I could not be more delighted.

Laws of Attraction

Thai Sat iQIYI 8 eps

(Icky picked it up but they are serving it in a complicated way that may require a VPN.)

Stars the pair from To Sir With Love with the same production team. IT’S SO GOOD. A morally corrupted trickster lawyer with a tragic past, sad eyes, and a beautiful smile that he uses like a weapon. Meets paladin martial arts instructor from other side of the tracks (who is out, at least to his baby sister).

Corrupt police.

Spoiled rich kid evil.

Ambitious politician.

Tragic death.

Terrible subs.*

This show is very like Manner of Death but so far it is a much better/tighter story (there's a Devil Judge aura happening). It’s NOT BL but it is fucking phenomenal. And you should watch it. Not wait to binge it. WATCH IT.

On a global scale this might be the best thing currently airing featuring gay romantic leads. Its really fucking good. It’s Lawless Lawyer but more complex character motivation and gay af. Fuck yes please and thank you. FINALLY.

Triggers for violence, beatings, death & torture depicted on screen. Like MoD they are not holding back. 

(* A lot of the familial names they are using are not gendered in Thai but translated as such, like “nephew”. This one is gonna go down a lot easier if you know some Thai.)

ALSO:

Stay By My Side - Taiwan Fri Gaga 10 eps

Hidden Agenda that isn’t hidden - Thailand Sun GMMTV YouTube 12 eps

Low Frequency - Thailand Sat iQIYI 8 eps

Started But You Can Probably Wait IMHO

Dinosaur Love (Sun iQIYI)

Be Mine Super Star (Mon Viki)

Wedding Plan (Weds YT & iQIYI) it's mame so A trash watch is happening! 

Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Japan Thu Gaga)

Hope this is what you wanted.

[confused-rat]

For real though, why are we bothering taking writing advice from somebody who literally said herself that she didn't feel like going to class and / or didn't pay attention in school because she thought she sounded edgy and cool by claiming that teachers making students do homework was 'abuse'?

I'm not going to listen to anyone's ' writing advice ' who can't tell what a noun is.

Lol

You honestly don’t need a high school education to write, I mean it would help, but you don’t really need one. Just like how you don’t have to go to an art school to be an artist, it helps certainly, but it’s not required.

If she wants people to actually take her criticisms or tips seriously though, she needs to get some fucking credentials or something. Something that isn’t drabbles about siblings cuddling. 🤦

Idk, maybe I’m being hypocritical since I do watch and enjoy a lot of youtube reviewers content. Then again. At least none of them tried to tell me a Jewish woman was a Nazi sympathizing facist because she wrote a kids cartoon about space rock lesbians.

[winderlylandchime]

Fanfiction Year in Review 2023

I fell out of fandom in 2021-ish for mental health and other reasons (iykyk). I returned this past year and reunited with old friends and made new ones. I absolutely adore fandom and all that it brings with it. The passion, the love, the community, the complete bypassing of cringe. Please, more.

This year, I returned to fanfiction and published over 150k words. I know absolutely that word counts mean nothing but if we’re taking writing as a symptom of emotional and mental well-being for me (for me!), then I feel so very good about this. I also learned how many ways someone can write about the same theme (prom! arc!) without completely losing their audience. I wanted to do a little year-in-review by listing the fics I’ve published and my favorite line from each.

Thank you so much to every single person who encouraged me in DMs, servers, kudos, and comments. Writing brings me happiness but the community around writing brings me the most joy. I would not have returned to fandom without each of you.

And then there were three rating: T, word count: 727, ficlet, inspired by a prompt by @lostcol and a bit of a character study of Brian Kinney.

Favorite line: Oh, there are mothers in Brian’s life now. They’re surrounding him as he sits, head bowed, face covered in tears-streaked blood, scent of death and ammonia in his nose.

(and I’d do it again) rating: E, word count: 6,865, one-shot, canon divergence in S5, maybe something other than a bomb can bring them back together

Favorite line: It’s not like Justin is going to come back to the loft with him. Not after he up and left five weeks and three - no four days ago. He’s ready to wash his hands of this night. Ready to be done to the extent that he’ll ever be done with Justin. To the extent that he’ll ever be able to fully wash his hands of any of this. He feels like Lady Macbeth with her eternal spot, forever marked by blood on the cold cement floor of a parking garage.

carried me with you rating: E, word count: 36,405, after prom Jennifer asks Brian to stay away from Justin, and he does

Favorite line: ”But that’s not me taking care of you. That’s, that’s - ” I struggled to find the words to convey what was natural, what was something that didn’t require effort or thought or intention. “ - that’s like breathing.”

love is so short (forgetting is so long) rating: T, word count: 2,777, WARNING MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, what the fuck was I thinking?

Favorite line: His mama, an artist, just said, “Gussy, some people, most people, have an infinite capacity to love. Other people have the capacity to love one person infinitely.” He never asked again.

clothes mean nothing until until somebody lives in them rating: M, word count: 3,007, 5+1 things and clothes sharing

Favorite line: That night, Justin lies in Michael’s old bed and holds the shirt over his face while he remembers the vibrations of Brian’s moans against his skin as he ate him out the night before. He jerks off to the memory. Not the first boy to jerk off to thoughts of Brian in this bed.

you’re like a tattoo (something i can’t undo) rating: E, word count: 87,170, my first QAF complete AU, sugar daddy AU. also kinneycutt!

favorite line: “Oh, darling,” Emmett’s voice is dripping with something cashmere soft. “Oh, oh, oh . Darling, you are fucked. Oh, you are beyond fucked.” He looks at Brian. “And you don’t even know it.”

beautiful like the darkness between the fireflies rating: E, word count: 18,611 (WIP), my first QAF post canon, exes-to-lovers, soft fluffity fluff

favorite line: “And, dad?” There’s a hopeful edge to Gus’ voice, something that hasn’t been killed by the spectacular failure of their moms’ marriage and generally having Brian as a third parent.

“Yeah?” He feels the word bubble up from deep in his chest. He wants this kid to hold onto hope for as long as they can.

“An anchor can be good, it can keep you grounded, you know?”

very low-key, no pressure, tagging to share your 2023 wins fanfic, gifs, or otherwise: @getmehighonmagic @magicandarchery @lostcol @kiranerysed @sophsun1 @bigassbowlingballhead @bartbarthelme @sheisraging @eusuntgratie @xoxoemynn

[goldenbloodytears]

Honestly it's just so hard to envision Danny doing normal people stuff like I really can't see him being a father taking his kid to like a baseball game or like making pancakes for his significant other.

You're absolutely right haha As much as I have made a baby post, this is something I've been back and forth with myself about... for QUITE a while haha (help)

If you'll allow me to put my psychology and average crime buff hat on, this is something I've noticed when it comes to actual irl serial killers as well as fictional ones.... I'm not sure if there's an academic or philosophical term to describe this, but from the way I see it when we consider someone "evil" or otherwise morally wrong, we tend to start to discount their humanity.

For an irl case study example: Ted Bundy. Notoriously awful human being for multiple well-known reasons... but he volunteered as a sucide hotline worker and one of his brothers has said he was a "good" big brother (iirc this was Amazon's Falling for a Killer doc for anyone interested). This isn't to say he's suddenly a good person for working at a suicide hotline; it's pretty easy to assume that Ted's narcissism was the underlying motivation rather than some sense of moral priority in saving people. EDIT: But rather it points to the fact that there can be good actions done by bad/questionable people, just like good people can do bad things.

To bring this back around, it's similar to how I see Danny. He is woefully just a guy in a suit, as much as he wants to be some weird serial-killing spider-man in a stupid ghost costume. The fact that he's just a dude and not a killing machine means he can get tired of working his double jobs of 9-5 journalism and 10-6 murdering... I think it's maybe natural that he would at least consider whether there is something else he could be doing.

But at the same time, this is Danny we are talking about. The very same guy who got so insulted by somebody satirizing him that he had rage-induced blackouts. He's kinda pathetic in a wet-rat kinda way, it's fun to laugh at his bullshit in the tome because the tome itself is like one big satire of his original lore.

Anyways, to bring it back to the original point before this gets too long--I don't disagree, I find it weird to picture him doing normal stuff as well. But at least for me, that's part of the fun. I didn't really go into it in the baby post because it was more childhood than baby.... but I think he would be an awful dad. Like, he would have the rudest awakening when realizing that a child is not just a mini-extension of yourself because from reading the tome, to me, it seems like he has never critically questioned his father's parenting. He might have the mildest inkling of "doing right by his child" in the sense that he knows he didn't like certain things his father seemingly forced upon him... but I don't see him having the inclination or ability to actually follow-through. It also means he's probably a pain in the fucking ass when somebody doesn't do something the way he thinks they should, whether that's his partner, child, or Joe Schmoe from work. Conversely, he's going to do things for attention, so he might actually take Billy to soccer or make the wife breakfast... but he's going to complain if he doesn't get the attention he's looking for in return.

It's not hard to read into his character as having a personality disorder, I think the devs themselves said he was narcissistic. I won't get into the politics since I think that would require a new post, but from the suffering that real people go through with their personality disorders (NPD included), it gives me a small twinge of empathy for this boomer/gen-x edgelord.

The only way this man gets therapy is by going to jail.

[lizhly-writes]

so. i have been contemplating my dumb little not-cnovel.

one common romance trope that we see all the time is the CPR trope, which makes sense! you get to force the saved to see the savior in a more positive light, not to mention establishing some kind of life debt, if you’re into that.

some cnovels would be into that. there is this idea of repaying “life-saving grace”. with your body or something. especially if you’re reading historical fantasy and someone’s virtue is ruined by the act of being embraced by someone of the opposite gender in public, AKA being hauled out of a river because you’re drowning. you know.

we ALSO get to force them to kiss! it’s one of the two methods of saving a life that i can think of that, of the top of my head, that require beyond platonic contact. this lets you to force your romantic leads into some form of intimacy, far before than they would naturally do so. sort of like a little shortcut. so you now have two things (maybe even three things!) for the price of one trope! what a deal! what a steal!

now, i will take a moment to say this is not necessarily TRUE, since i believe mouth-to-mouth resuscitation is NOT the recommended action for the casual bystander �� chest compressions are preferred! — and even if you DO go for it, the process is RATHER LESS ENJOYABLE THAN A KISS. but narratively, it’s all very touching and romantic, especially if you don’t describe the rib breaking or sputtering or whatever other messy things are going on. especially if you put focus on The Sacred First Kiss, which may or may not be a factor, depending on your preference.

my POINT. is that you can do a lot of things with it for the development of a relationship. i’m not sure if i’m a fan EXACTLY, because i generally see this kind of thing coming and i can get a liiiittle exasperated, but it is a common trope and it is a common trope for a REASON.

which is why i’m going to figure out a way to shove it in my dumb little not-cnovel, because i am actively attempting to shove as many stereotypical tropes and character archetypes as i can possibly manage.

and I AM HERE because an image has popped into my mind and i need to talk about it with SOMEBODY.

fun fact: out of my main four guys, our mc guy is the only one who is first aid certified. he's the only one of them who knows how to properly do CPR. he has, after a long childhood of agreeably patching up his childhood best friend/fiancee/whatever you want to call her, Become The Medic.

meaning he is the one who gets to enact the kiss of life upon people.

the image i have is that they all nearly fucking drown on some rich person boat ride and my boy is the one who gasps, heaving from the wreckage, soggy and unhappy but also entirely conscious, which cannot be said about his three companions.

he takes one look at this scene. there is only one person who can do CPR and that person is him. the genre-savvy-ness kicks in, and he goes "no. no, are you fucking kidding me."

he knows he lives in a romance novel. he knows exactly what i'm making him do, and that is: pseudo-makeout with his fiancee (sure, okay, whatever), his best friend (aaaaaaahhhhhhhh), annnnd the person his fiancee is fated to have an affair with and that he refuses to admit that he hates with every fiber of his body (FUCKING NO).

i just. i just find this so funny. just that one moment where he goes "ARE YOU SERIOUS."

yes. yes, i am serious. now kiss all of these people that you have very strong feelings towards. it'll be fun! for me, specifically! only me! you're going to hate it!

[nevada-got-screwed-over]

Taglist: @averagejoey2000

Original Inspiration / Masterpost

Chapter 15 / Chapter 17

Theta!South AU. I Guess.

Chapter: 16

Words: “oh man this stats-coding class has so much stats-coding” (2,341)

The officer rolled his eyes, scoffing as he stuck another cake pop in his mouth. Spam calls were getting on his last nerve – didn’t the precinct have the money to get those filtered out? He would have to review the budget once he added in the extra cash…donations. Precinct 42 made more money smuggling illicit goods through the city than they ever did doing their jobs.

Any cop worth their salt knew crime paid, and it paid well. 

Then why the hell should they still subject to the annoyance of spam bots like the same civilians they bullied into submission? It was the fifth time a variation of the same area code had called, no ID but a clear spam marker on the answering machine.

Another call, another cake pop.

Desk duty was never his forte – he much preferred the rush of cracking the skull of whatever poor idiot he wanted to arrest for drugs they didn’t have. But, as head of the precinct, he had his duties. And sometimes that meant eating cake pops at 2 AM and ignoring the spam calls that came to his office as he tried to sort through paperwork.

Somebody had to make the police’s tax fraud schemes look good on paper.

And he couldn’t do that being pestered by spam calls. He was running out of cake pops and patience.

“Officer Oliver Stark of Precinct 42 – is there something I can help you with?” His cheeriness was a veneer, he fully expected a robotic voice to inquire about his car’s extended warranty or announce with false confidence the imminent UNSC investigation of his taxes (he, of all people, knew his paperwork was in order). He was not expecting a child.

“Uh, hello officer – uh, Mr. Stark –”

“Who – how do you have this number?” He could understand the child calling the emergency services line, but his office phone number was off the books. Wasn’t it? He couldn’t remember if he skirted that requirement of the state transparency laws –

“Um, you aren’t – you aren’t Oli?”

“Who’s Oli?”

“My math tutor – he was supposed to help me study for the test tomorrow…well, today I guess…”

“I’m afraid you have the wrong number.” Stark cringed as a strangled sob came through the audio feed.

“Oh – oh, I’m – I’m sor- I’m so sorry mister. Oli said – I’m sorry I’m not good with numbers that’s why Oli’s helping – sorry –”

“It’s fine kid. Hope you can find his number.” He had taxes to do, after all…

“B-But!” The kid sounded panic, sniffling away his sobs. “You – um, you’re an officer you said – like the police? You help – you guys help people, right?”

Fuck taxes. This would be amazing for the press, and maybe get some of the heat from the city officials off their backs for the whole Lozano mess a few weeks back. He could see the headline now – Adorable! Local Officer Helps Kid with Math Homework. No, he was well known enough in this city, it would use his full name.

“Sure thing kid, Officer Oliver Stark at your service.” He just hoped it wasn’t calculus. Or tax related.

--

“Target is distracted,” South confirmed, Theta pinging her helmet as she relayed the news to the pair already inside the precinct building. Guards were laughably stupid and easily overpowered. Isaac – Felix, Locus was insistent on codenames, at least during business – had two bodies in the broom closet before Locus even had to bother wiping out the cops supposedly watching the security cams.

Still, she had raided Insurrectionist outposts with worse security. Maybe this place would have better coffee at least. She stalked behind the pair, clearing each floor of any surviving officers still choking on their own blood. The occasional civilian secretary working well past their job description was happy to quietly evacuate the building and forget they ever saw the mercenary.

Although, the orchid pink helmet would make her difficult to forget.

Through it all she could hear Theta’s performance, perfect and rehearsed with the head officer following the very script the AI had predicted. She had initially shot down his idea – Sam and Isaac knew about the Project, but she wasn’t willing to risk letting them know she took more home than just bad memories.  But, with some pleading and – well, he couldn’t quite give her puppy dog eyes, but she was sure he was using them – she conceded that it was a damn good plan.

The other mercenaries thought she had written up the AI, and without Sirius – Mason had picked the coolest codename of the three – to check her work, the other two were content to assume she was simply a highly competent coder. Which was a safer assumption than letting them know a UNSC AI of black ops caliber and intelligence was actively distracting their main target.

“On level 12, meet up so we can breach –”

“I’m here.” South was a little disappointed Locus didn’t startle as he lowered his hand from his radio earpiece.

“You sure they won’t see us coming with your, uh,” Felix gestured to her helmet.

“Oh, and neon orange is very subtle.” She smirked behind her visor as his eyes widened with genuine offense. “Besides, by the time he sees us he’ll be dead.”

“Shut up and focus. We need him alive.” Locus grumbled, fitting another clip into his pistol. “Just long enough to get what we need from him. He still distracted?”

Letting Theta watch so many old theater videos was worth it; he was playing the officer perfectly, sounding very earnest in his confusion about factorials even as he ran the statistics on their mission’s success. 99.765%.

“Absolutely. Didn’t even hear us clear this floor.” Theta had a tap on the cameras; even if the feed to the security station was cut, he easily hijacked the system and identified potential hidden weapons in the office. “He can be armed at a moment’s notice, try not to get shot Felix.”

Before Felix could protest her comment, they were through the door.

“Okay, thank you so much mister!”

“Mister Oliver Stark, Precinct 42. But find your friend’s number next time you need math help. And do let your mom know Precinct 42 isn’t a tutoring service.”

“Fuck you!” The cheery child replied, his giggle cutting off as he transferred to South’s implant. The rush of syncing up flooded him with her anxiety, but his giddy excitement easily overpowered it. Felix had a knife to the officer’s throat before he could grab the pistol stowed under his desk.

“We can work this out,” His voice was smooth and confident. “Whatever you want is yours – weapons, drugs, women, men, hell we have a few kids if you’re interested. For the right price, of course.” Only Theta and South could see the tremor of his raised hands.

“Oh, you hear that guys?” Felix crooned; his grin hidden behind his bandanna. “Whatever we want.” Even Locus chuckled darkly as he shook his head.

South wanted some coffee.

--

The first gig was small; some petty revenge and shutting down one of most corrupt precincts in the city – they made sure to send a message to the other corrupt precincts with the body count. And Oliver Stark’s decapitated head settled neatly on a pile of incriminating invoices to and from human traffickers, illegal arms manufacturers, and drug dealers.

A taste of the life Sam and Isaac had thrived on since the war ended. South felt alive, Theta felt useful, and they made good money. Syncing with Theta in her skull, her bike helmet modified to be more and more like her old helmet every job – the monotony of civilian life was finally breaking, the weight in her chest every time she visited her own grave was lifting.

She was doing good in this world – and she was feeling great. Even if she had been miserable, she could feel what it meant to Theta every time a text came from her partners in not-quite-crime. He wasn’t made to bounce between projectors all day, monitoring news feeds for any mention of the Project while he spiraled in his own thoughts. Working with the mercenaries was more than a distraction from his growing anxieties, it was fulfillment of his purpose – to help his assignee complete their mission objective.

It was a satisfaction South could feel, but hardly fathom.

So why was this new job turning her stomach and driving Theta away from the very thought of it?

“South, we would be set for life,” Isaac scoffed, as though she somehow didn’t understand the exorbitant amount of money promised. “No more jobs, just one last big payday.”

Maybe the finality was souring her opinion, but Theta had no coherent input. Even he wasn’t sure why neither of them could be convinced of the job.

They had hashed out this conversation on more than one occasion – but seeing as they were shipping out the next day, she hoped they would leave the topic be for one last night drinking together. She was sorely mistaken.

“It is off planet. She has friends she’s leaving behind.” Sam was curled over a drink, looking out the window at the dim city skyline. There were still no coasters in sight.

“So?” He threw up his hands, gesturing to himself and his partner. “We knew Mason well before you did; and – what? Why the cold feet after these past few months? Why wouldn’t – you’d have enough money to buy this whole damn city if you love it so much.”

“I just – it’s too vague. Asset reclamation even at the scale you’re talking about for the paycheck you’re promising…” It sounded like something the Project would do. “There’s a catch we’re not being told.”

“Who gives a fuck?” He annunciated every word, still incredulous that South wasn’t sold on the idea of hopping on a ship to the middle of nowhere to locate and retrieve material assets for a client that hadn’t even show their face. Isaac’s manic expression calmed and he breathed deeply. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just, close your eyes and imagine the most…self-indulgent, ridiculous retirement you’ve ever heard of…”

“A planet consisting solely of island chains with a bar on each one.”

“Really? Thought there’d be, like, more chicks and guns in your fantasy.”

“You said the most self-indulgent ridiculous retirement I’ve ever heard of, not my self-indulgent ridiculous retirement.” She opened her eyes and shot him a scowl. “Listen, I appreciate the offer, but you two work just as well on your own as you do with me. And if this gig is as big as you say it is, there will be someone else to hold your hand with any tech issues you run into.”

“But –!”

“Thank you, Isaac, Sam. If either of you buy an island chain planet feel free to invite me for drinks, but I’m just not feeling this gig, alright?”

Isaac opened his mouth to protest, but Sam beat him to it.

“You sure, South?” He wasn’t looking at her, so he didn’t see her eyes soften and the tension bleed from her face.

“Yeah, sorry Sam.” She sighed, turning to the door. “We had a good run these past few months.” A smile twitched at her lips. “Don’t get shot Felix.”

“One time, one time I take bullet to the leg – you aren’t even there, by the way – and still, somehow…” His rantings faded as she made her way to the elevator, Theta humming softly in her head.

“Why aren’t we taking this job?” He was being rhetorical; she was just as conflicted as him, their shared thoughts bouncing back and forth between unsatisfactory explanations. Too far. Too sketchy. The secrecy of the whole gig just, didn’t feel right in her mouth. Not enough detail. Meg’s kid was too small – what if she needed a babysitter?

“Okay, that’s a bit much. You wouldn’t be a good babysitter.”

“I babysit you just fine,”

“Ugh, shut up! I’m not a little kid!”

“You kind of are, kiddo,” Theta responded by sticking out his tongue; in her mind, behind a helmet, which she couldn’t see through. The smile that scrunched her face might have looked a bit out of place as she mounted her motorcycle in the parking garage. A small thought scratched her brain, Theta drifting away from it as anxiety churned in his circuits. She wondered what his face looked like – whoever he was based on.

“Hey, you’re always yelling at me for trying to find stuff about the Project.”

“Having a single thought about something is leagues different than tapping UNSC private coms and nearly getting the whole apartment SWATTED because you forgot to reroute your server connection.”

“Fair point.”

“Exactly.”

The ride home was quiet, her helmet’s HUD as complex and streamlined as her power armor. Theta pinged the security system of the apartment, running through the cameras for intruders and even peeking at the nanny cam to glimpse the infant sleeping soundly in his crib.

“Do you think Alex can meet me someday?”

“Sure, you two can have a playdate.” The groan from the AI echoed in her skull as she shed her jacket and glanced at the gift basket on the countertop. She almost forgot about the weeks she spent housesitting while the family visited their proud parents, now grandparents.

‘From the Wu’s – Thanks!’ She rolled her eyes at the goodies piled high in the gift – definitely some of Mason’s baking and spare electronics, mixed with medical supplies from Megan. Her neighbors knew her too well. But, as with most midnight visits to the mercenaries’ home, South had a sleepless night and was hoping to catch a quick nap before her shift that evening.

“Wake me if something exciting happens,” She said, Theta desyncing – despite their comfort together, it was no easy to task to rest easy with an AI that couldn’t sleep.

“Sweet dreams, South,” His yawn was realistic, well-practiced and calming. She wasn’t sure she had felt so safe, so content since she and North were children.

[s0lar-ch3ri]

it is required that if you are a dad you must be inclusive mainly for the jokes

for example: dad tells daughter not to date men until she's 20+. daughter informs him shes gay. "i know just giving you a reminder" (its funnier if said daughter can be a bit forgetful) "you know we got something in common" "what is it?" "we both can say fuck men" (dad to homo son) child says theyre fruity. dad goes over to the kitchen, comes back later with a fruit basket. "which one ya feeling?" "dad im nonbinary and i think i wanna change my name" "okay, what to?" "alex" "oh thats a pity, why not something epic like The Eternal Night Becoming Yellow" "wouldnt that be too complicated or just doesnt make sense??" "i think your feeling *enby* from how cool a title that is" "dad im a guy" "i knew this would come son day" dad pulls out an egg from the fridge to make breakfast, turns over to trans kid. "hey i know you just came out the shell yesterday so how about some eggs to represent how proud i am?" "Sure" proceeds to make scrambled eggs trans kid who has a turtle "hey look, you both came out your shell" mtf kid gets bottom surgery and name change "BUT YOU DIDNT HAVE TO CUT ME OFF (idfk know the lyrics) GUESS THAT YOU DONT NEED THAT THOUGH, NOW THAT SON IS JUST SOMEBODY I USED TO KNOW" i have so many jokes i could do

Today I was talking to my dad and I referred to myself as his son(I’m genderfluid btw) and he said “Today’s a Son day huh?” And I was like “yeah” And he was like “huh, I thought today was a Saturday, not a Sunday” And I just laughed for like 5 minutes

[afr0-thunder]

[Poor Chronicles Pt. 44]

TOPICS: “Coworker Hell”/“Old Ladies”/Older Women/MILFs/Work Experiences/My Expenses/My Budget/My “Latest” Interests

I failed to mention…there was another girl, OF THE SAME NAME, as girl I’d never fuck (work bestie). Blonde, big ass, big titties… she quit after I took her shift for her birthday. Unintentionally and intentionally…

She was the “non-Mexican” seeming version.

She called or texted and told my former assistant manager, now “head manager”… that she would not be returning. Hilarious.

Extremely confident, but terribly shy at the same time…

However, older women have been “hitting” lately, I’m talking 50-60+. Not just 30-40. Dolly Parton bitches. I’m talking 100 looking. Wrinkles all over the place. Never in my life did I start to think that was attractive. Had to get some closure…there were like 10 other extremely old women, and some moms. I just usually talk to women AROUND my age, less of a wide range for a dating pool, but I can see why people choose to date older, HOWEVER that should not dictate who you do and don’t date ENTIRELY.

One just straight up grabbed her ass cheeks in her jeans yesterday or the other day. I’m not sure if it was intentional, but she was attractive and had a great ass, surprisingly. Having two teenage kids is crazy though, insane. I could see why a man would do that…

There was even a fucking girl in a wheelchair… I’m getting her to walk, someday. Somebody has to fuck this bitch. Criminal as hell to deprive her of a sexual experience. She’s hot is another bonus. If that hasn’t crossed someone else’s mind, I would argue it is homosexual

My head manager, “resigned”. She kept changing my hours for no reason, so I stopped showing up outside of my scheduled times and ONLY showed up when I was scheduled for about a month or two, to allow others to see the difficulty of working the job at any level without my assistance on new hire training and the overall help of an experienced worker while business is hectic. I just refused to help her cover the reality of our staff (team) performance.

Another girl transferred from another location. Looked like my ex, big BEEFY bitch. Think it’s her cousin, but the Aardvark looking version. She had the WORST attitude. We had to stop working to discuss our issues with the manager, on multiple occasions, in his office. She also had the HOTTEST breath. I was disgusted infuriated to find this out RIGHT after we began having problems with coexisting peacefully while working together. One day, our argument got her sent home for over and hour and asked to come BACK. She eventually left our location, stating that most of us made her experience there horrible and made her want to leave…

It was mostly me, but yes, let’s say it was ALL of us. I said to myself one day, “I’m going to get that fat ass bitch FIRED”, then she transferred. That’s a technical.

I’ve found something to purchase and “waste” my money on that I may “NEED”. I said for Christmas, I would purchase myself a mini refrigerator, but I said, “For what? Will I use because I need it, or because I have it?”. Senseless purchase, if I don’t need it and waste money JUST to keep it full simply because it takes up space and needs to be made use of. Also, they are expensive and have to be cleaned routinely, which requires MORE purchases to maintenance it.

While still poor and comfortable, I feel like I should use any additional income on something that can generate MORE income or simply find a way to acquire a larger income with my current employer.

Videography and photography remain the most fun new interests.

Have a horrible today and horrible tomorrow if you do not wish to have a wonderful forever!

- MH (2024)

[homunculus-argument]

The whole foundation of finnish government is based on finnish people hating other finnish people, and being efficient about it. Yeah there might be some mild comraderie between friends, but as a rule too many people just completely hate each other to form any kind of networks that aren't written in law. Yeah, there's corruption in the system but such networks aren't as widespread as they could be, because they're at least on some level based on mutual trust, "I'll keep an eye for your interests and you'll keep mine" sort of things, which requires some level of people not hating each other.

You hate your neighbours and your neighbours hate you too. There's no ground for agreeing about anything just between the two of you, the government has to get involved as an overseer because both of you know that the other would fuck you over if there was the slightest chance. And in order to make that possible, there has to be a government you hate and distrust just marginally less than you hate and distrust your neighbours.

It's illegal - or technically speaking, simply legally impossible - to completely disinherit one's children. If you've got a remarkable fortune and hate your kids and don't want to leave them jack shit, that's too fucking bad because they'll make you do that anyway. You don't have to pretend to like your children, and your children don't have to pretend to like you. My aunt may have forgotten to invite me and my sister to granddad's funeral because it didn't cross her mind that her brother's children count as "family", but there was a legally dictated chunk of his inheritance we had to be handed anyhow.

There has to be good school and social programs, because somebody has to care for the people who can't take care of themselves, and it's simply more efficient to pay the government to do it. You don't want to deal with idiots who can't fucking read, or get your car stolen twice per week by someone who couldn't afford to go through enough school to manage to drive a forklift, so it's simply easier to have public access to them.

Finland isn't a very christian country - nominally about 70% of finns are in the church and in my experience about 70% of those are only registered because they don't really care about that sort of thing enough to bother un-registering from church records. Either way, there is no christian values in anything - there is no faith in a divine plan, virtue, attitude of charity or servitude, or putting your trust in any idea that God will provide. If something's left undone by human hands, it's simply left undone. Nobody else is gonna do it.

There's remarkably little visible homelessness in the streets in Finland - most of the people who don't have a permanent address move from one unreliable sleeping place to another, and I've met a lot of people who actually believe there is no true homelessness in Finland. That being said, the social programs aiming to make sure as few people as possible end up completely on the streets are pretty extensive. Government-housing isn't rosy and one's neighbours are also going to be the kind of people who would be homeless otherwise, but the goal is to be better than nothing.

Paying homeless people money to fuck off might work in a single incident, but it both gets expensive in the long run and also that means having to interact with another person. In order to fuck off more efficiently, people have to have a place to fuck off to, and it's just easier to pay the government to do it.

Finnish people just fucking hate each other, but they are very efficient and pragmatic about it, and the only way to have all the comforts and privileges of a civilised society without having to personally act civil, is to pay the government to pay someone else to do it for you.

[isaacapatow]

Orion said i see in that odd as fuck way that he had, a little overly-formal and stiff, and Ike almost chuckled except that he could tell the kid was really trying. He was putting effort into staying put where he was instead of backing up and wanting Ike to back off; in fact, he was consciously making himself relax. Ike could tell it was more conscious than reflexive because it happened bit by bit, muscle group after group.

Not that it prepared Ike in any way for when Orion lifted his enormous hands to cup the older man's face. His palms were the size of fucking dinner plates, and Ike, after a moment of being surprised, felt Orion nudge his chin up -- the only person he knew who was tall enough to do such a thing -- and kiss him.

That was another moment of being surprised. In the back of his head Ike had thought maybe Orion was a virgin. He seemed so ill-at-ease with most social interactions and certainly didn't invite physical contact, on a normal basis. Finding out about his prepper weirdo parents sure didn't do anything to change that supposition (and Ike refused to let his mind stray to any more sinister reasons where the Carnell family was concerned, it didn't have to be that way, it probably hadn't been that way).

So. The kiss.

It was ... good, Ike realized after not too long. Orion kissed the same way he did anything else, which was to say with thoughtful intent. Like he had figured out exactly what amount of intensity he was willing to give, and retained anything beyond that. Ike didn't take it any further past that limit, a testing, a tabulation. All he did was press the heel of his hand a little more firmly against the base of Orion's skull, holding him in there for a while.

Orion tugged back and Ike let him, fixing Orion with a contemplative look as the other man launched into an explanation, as if Ike was owed one. He wasn't. But he wasn't gonna stop Orion now that the kid was on a roll. "Listen," Ike said, "I get that. I also get that sometimes for people like you, it's useful to have somebody jab 'em once in a while to get the thoughts flowing. Which is what I'm gonna do, fair warning. But also fair warning to me, is you can tell me to buzz off if you ever need to."

Ike roughly patted the side of Orion's face. Man, the kid could stare, once he had you fixed with those evaluating hazel eyes of his. "And you can trust me," he said. "Not just out there, because I know you already trust me out there." He curled his hand into a loose fist and thumped Orion's chest. "In here." Ike took a page out of Orion's book and looked at him for a long moment, turning thoughts over in his head before he said, "To do what needs to get done. No matter what."

Would Orion interpret that as Ike saying he wouldn't hesitate to cut the kid down in ways other than the physical, if needs required it? Maybe. But Ike wanted to give him the chance to work through it himself, get those gears churning in directions they hadn't been allowed to before.

Orion couldn't really blame Ike for considering to kill him right then and there. After all, Orion would have done the same. If anyone he'd been traveling with had killed a child without hesitation, he would have ended them without a second thought. He probably wouldn't have even given them a minute to prove or explain themselves. In a world like this, where danger was lurking everywhere, the humans were worse than the walkers. The walkers were predictable. People, not so much. And yet Isaac hadn't killed him. Orion stood in his spot silently, taking in Isaac's explanation. He could figure that the raiders and Redwood were important to Isaac - few would consider leaving the safety of Redwood for any reason. And Isaac did leave without hesitation and that was part of what drew Orion to the older man. The willingness to face what was out there. Orion hadn't expected the touch, Isaac's warm hand directly against the back of his neck, thumb running through his hair. Out of reflex, the raider found himself tensing up, but not resisting, as Isaac pulled him closer. There was something about this situation that made it entirely new. Orion had been touched before, he had had tentative friendships with others, if they could be called that, but this felt different, in a way. "I see." Orion muttered, slowly relaxing into the touch, beginning to get used to it, letting himself get used to it. He was bad at putting emotions into words, talking about how he felt. So, she showed it through his actions. Maybe it in part the alcohol slowly getting to him, but Orion reached out with both hands, cupping Isaac's face with his hands. He could feel the older man's beard brushing against the palm of his hands, his thumb as he tilted Isaac's head upwards and kissed him. It wasn't different to any of the other people he'd kissed, physically at least. Isaac's lips felt warm, though there was a roughness there, in the way Orion could feel the older man's beard scratch against his own. It only lasted a few seconds before Orion pulled back, licking his lips, tasting traces of the alcohol he had just downed there. "I'm not good with things like this." Orion admitted, honestly. There was a slight rasp to his voice as he met Isaac's gaze. "With talking. Never was." He took a deep breath. "But you matter to me. As a friend." It felt strange, saying those words, unnatural almost, even though it was the truth. The warm buzz of alcohol heating his cheeks helped, made his tongue looser. "I don't know how to talk. It's... I don't know if I can, even. Or want to or am ready to." Orion took a deep breath. His throat felt closed up, like something wanted to stop him from saying things like that, opening up in the slightes. Some built-in defense mechanism. "But I want to trust you."

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[knowlesian]

just thinking a lot this morning about the double-bind of being poc and dealing with mental illness.

because these are both my lanes! and i’m honestly much more comfortable talking about the second label for a million reasons, including because i did my time in treatment hell aka middle of nowhere utah kid jail and can talk about the mental health system in the us and our cultural baggage around these issues with a lot of confidence. 

(for example, that they’ve done studies that show even clinicians can be easily blinded by their assumptions. there was a group of grad students who got themselves committed to a temporary hold by expressing outsized behaviors that indicated an array of different disorders. once they were in the ward, they all dropped the faked symptoms of debilitating mental illness and started to journal their treatment course and if it changed. 

many of them were written up the same exact way and said to be still exhibiting obvious signs of instability, by the actual doctors on staff. one notation? “writing behavior.” i’m not kidding— an actual mental health professional looked at somebody writing in a journal and went well obviously they’re crazy, so they must be crazy writing.)

anyway, i also know that when you are mentally ill and you are not white, there’s another whole ugly host of assumptions that get stapled to your face. there is an underlying assumption that pocs are more volatile/less reasonable/etc into forever than white patients, so every horrible thing that also happens when you’re white and dealing with whatever flavor of the mental illness rainbow gets turned up to eleven, and drags your racial identity into the mix whether it’s explicit or not.

(there are also other dangers that occur, but that’s another really fucked up and horrifying talk about how mentally ill and or disabled pocs face violence at a rate that makes you want to go blow something up when you think about it.)

so if you need help or accommodations at all— that’s not a moral flaw, it’s not a personal failing. i myself need some of these things in my life, i would hardly argue against that idea. 

but when you need those things and you’re not white, it suddenly becomes this much more fraught and complicated discussion that takes place in assumptions and subtext as well. 

and then it gets even more complicated!!! because the flipside of the illogical racism coin is that needing assistance while poc often gets turned into a weird racist thing, the idea that we are just stronger and closer to being a beast of burden than white people means that when you swing the pendulum the other way, you end up with the idea that pocs are somehow intrinsically hardier and meant to care for others.

it truly is a goddamned bitch of an unsatisfactory situation. if you need help, somebody is gonna look at you and go: knew it. Those People are weak (and thus need us to handle their lives!)

if you don’t need help, somebody is gonna look at you and go: knew it. Those People are hardier than others (and thus meant to do our work!!!)

this is part of why these talks are so hard to have— it’s not baseline racist to say a poc needs extra help, and it’s not baseline racist to say they don’t. racism enters the conversation through subtext and assumption and implicit biases and who is talking and how they talk about it.

it would be so, so much easier if there was a plug and play simple answer on this one. alas! there is not. the only way to deal with this stuff is to get into the weeds and be willing to have difficult discussions, and part of what really gets at me about ofmd is how willing they are to wade into thematic waters that require a lot of thought and care and living in the uncomfortable grey areas where actual life takes place, since our lived experiences are always more complicated and nuanced than the boilerplate on this would like people to believe.

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: your relationship with Wanda gets a little bumpy when her work life crosses over with your personal life.

warning/s: implied kidnapping, mentions of anxiety

author's note: so the ‘i love you’ confession was actually inspired by an incorrect quote on @aquamarinescarlet’s page! i thought it would be cute aha

part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

It was two months into our relationship when I knew I'd fallen in love with Wanda. I can't remember the exact moment when it hit me – I guess it had happened gradually over time – but I remember the embarrassing moment when I told her.

She'd brought me as her date to an Avengers party thrown by Tony Stark. I'd been to one of them before, about a month into dating her, as she'd wanted me to meet her friends from work AKA the freakin' Avengers. They were actually really great and (somewhat) humble people. I didn't expect to become 'friends' with any of them, more just be friendly whenever I saw them through Wanda. To my surprise, I became quite good friends with Natasha Romanoff.

We had the same dark sense of humour, both had an unexplainable obsession with horror films and she was genuinely just really easy to talk to. I wasn't expecting it, but it was nice to gain a new friend in addition to a new girlfriend.

So, I was at my second Avengers party with Wanda by my side, but the party had ended about half an hour ago and I may or may not have been drunk.

We were sat on the couch, conversing with the other Avengers, and I was sat between Wanda and Natasha. The others were involved in their own conversations and I was too dazed to realise what I was doing until it happened.

"Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her," I said (not-so) quietly, leaning over to my left, into Wanda's ear unknowingly.

Wanda, who was playing with my fingers in her hand, paused and glanced to me with bright eyes, a surprised expression on her face.

"You're in love with me?" she asked, lips twitching into a smile.

I blinked, her words settling in, before I licked my lips. "Oh, sorry." Turning to my right, I moved to Natasha's ear, whispering loudly, "Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her."

Natasha glanced to me with a quirked brow, amused smile on her lips. "She doesn't? You sure about that?"

"You're in love with me?" Wanda repeated, sitting forward and earning my attention.

I gasped, wondering how she knew, before slapping Natasha's arm and looking to her with a frown. "You told her?! I trusted you!"

Natasha ignored me, instead looking to Wanda with an encouraging look. "I'll leave this one to you. Good luck."

She stood up, heading over to Thor and Bruce Banner on the other couch, and I booed her as she left.

"Yeah, run away, you secret-give-away'er!" I called after her with a pout, before crossing my arms.

"I think it's time I take you home," Wanda said decidedly, trying not to laugh as she pulled me up off the couch.

"I don't like Natasha anymore," I mumbled, allowing Wanda to take me away.

She bid her goodbyes to her teammates before leading me to the lift. I don't really remember what else happened until we were suddenly at my house – well, my parents house, but they had given it to me as they travelled the world with their retirement money. She was leading me inside and to my bedroom, getting me dressed like the sweet girlfriend she was, before tucking me into bed.

Of course, being the clingy drunk I was, I pulled her on top of me and didn't let go as I wrapped my arms around her.

"Stay," I mumbled into her shoulder, closing my eyes.

She chuckled, trying to pull away. "Y/N, you need to sleep, c'mon."

"I will," I whined, not letting her leave. "If you stay with me."

She paused, before giving in with a sigh. "Fine."

Tiredly, I smiled. "Yesssss." I patted the spot next to me. "Right here, please."

In the light of my bedside lamp, I saw her roll her eyes playfully, before turning off the lamp and jumping under the covers with me. I sighed with relief, cuddling into her side without hesitating.

"I love you," I mumbled, barely thinking about it.

She tightened her embrace and I felt her kiss the top of my head. "You're probably gonna forget you said that in the morning. But I'll remind you. And if you still think it, then I'll reply."

Her words went into one ear and out the other. I hummed in response, not knowing what I was answering to, and let myself get lost in her scent as I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

When I woke up the next morning, I quite liked the idea of sharing bed with Wanda and waking up to her dishevelled hair and our intertwined legs, even though I didn't remember inviting her to stay. Of course, I also had a banging headache and felt like someone had hit me with a train, so I didn't get chance to appreciate it much.

"Fuck," I mumbled, pulling the duvet over my head to block out the sun streaming through the slit in my curtain.

Wanda, who was shuffling beside me, yawned and stretched her arms. Suddenly, I heard quiet laughter, before she spooned me, wrapping her arms around my stomach and pulling me closer. Her leg raised and clung to my waist, and as much as I appreciated the way she fit perfectly against me, I was still in pain.

"Why did you let me drink that much?" I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I believe that was your own conscience decision, dorogoy (darling)," she said in that know-it-all voice of hers, and it was hard for me to be annoyed at her because she had a raspy, morning voice and her accent was especially thick with fatigue and damn, Wanda Maximoff was pretty sexy in the morning.

"Whatever," was all I said, but I placed my hand on hers and joint our fingers together.

"You know," she started, tucking her head comfortably into my neck, "I quite like waking up to you like this. You're very cute, even if you're cranky."

Despite aforementioned crankiness, I cracked a smile. "I like this, too."

It was very domestic, something I didn't get the privilege of experiencing with Wanda because she worked a lot, and it felt good.

After hanging around in bed for a little while longer, I got up and showered whilst Wanda offered to make me some breakfast – "Pancakes are a hangover's cure! Or at least according to Tony". After getting ready, I came downstairs to find a stack of pancakes and maple syrup waiting for me.

"You are a Godsend," I told her, pressing a haste kiss to her lips before sitting at the table with the pancakes. "Thank you."

She chuckled, grabbing her own pancakes and sitting opposite me. "Anything for you."

After I dug in, complimenting her on how delicious they tasted, a comfortable silence fell between us. Well, until Wanda spoke up cautiously.

"So, does anything from last night ring a bell?" she asked, making me look up to see her staring eagerly.

My content expression fell. "Shoot, did I do something embarrassing?" I facepalmed. "God, what was it? Did I fall asleep on somebody?"

She smiled with adoration, eyes twinkling in the morning sun. "No, nothing like that."

I could tell there was something though, judging from her hesitant expression. I scrunched my face with regret.

"What did I do?" I asked, unprepared to hear it. "Did I say something to you?"

She played with her fork, twisting it around in her plate nervously, which was very unlike her. "Yeah, actually, you did."

I waited, feeling like the silence was deafening the longer she stayed quiet.

"You said you were in love with me," she said, voice so soft and quiet that I barely heard it.

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. "I what?"

"I mean, technically you said I had no idea you were in love with me, but I think you were supposed to tell Nat that," she continued, eyes avoiding mine. "Then you told Nat and you got mad at her because you thought she told me."

I facepalmed for the second time that morning. "Oh, God..."

"Then you invited me to stay the night and told me you loved me before you fell asleep," she finished rambling. "I just, er, wanted to check if you meant that..."

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. "Are you kidding?" I reached over the table to grab her hand. "Wanda, of course I meant that! But I hoped to tell you at a better time than by accident whilst I was drunk."

Blue eyes flickered to mine, excitement creeping onto her face. "You meant it."

I breathed out, realising what exactly I'd just said. "I– yeah. I meant it. I'm in love with you, Wanda."

Her smile widened. "I'm in love with you, too."

My heart fluttered in my chest as I relaxed my shoulders. "You love me."

She giggled, squeezing my hand. "We just did this."

"Right! We did," I said, shaking my head, grin forming on my lips. "Sorry. I'm just so happy right now."

"Me, too," she said in agreement, thumb stroking the top of my hand.

I didn't think things could go wrong from here. I was on top of the world! But of course, the world had a funny way of ruining things.

—

Dating a superhero had its pros and cons, I suppose, but neither really showed themselves to me often as it was as if Wanda's superhero life was separate to the one we shared. When she and I were together, it was just us. And she would leave for work and I wouldn't think about it. Then she would return and it would be us again.

If I took a moment out of my day to stop and really think about where she was, what she could be doing, the danger she could be in... I just couldn't do it. Even when she would show up to our next date with a fresh bruise from training, or a broken bone from a mission gone too far, I'd worry about it for the time being then try to let it go. Those weren't superhero perks, those were reasons to be concerned. And I couldn't handle imagining the time when she'd come back to me in a worse state, or to not even come back at all.

So, her superhero life rarely overlapped with our shared one. And I was happier that way. Until it did.

I was running errands one day, little things that required me to run around the city – dry cleaning, grocery shopping, picking up some DIY stuff for my house. It was a pretty relaxing, fun day. I'd treated myself to lunch, was soaking in the sunshine and planning to unwind with some Netflix on the couch.

"Hold on, I need to unlock the front door," I mumbled into the phone. I was talking to Wanda, catching her up with my day as I returned home.

"Try not to drop your phone this time," she teased from the other end, and I could just imagine the smirk on her face.

"So funny," I said with an eye roll. "Real comedian."

She laughed as I placed my phone in my pocket, not quite hanging up. Pulling my keys from my shopping bag, I fiddled with them, attempting to find the key for my front door.

Suddenly, something metal and cold pressed to my back and I jumped, dropping my keys with surprise.

"Don't draw attention," the person said, and I went rigid, looking up to see a reflection of someone unrecognisable in the glass of my front door. "You're going to leave your things here and come with me."

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to turn around, but the object pressed harder into my back, making me wince.

"Leave your fucking things here and give me your hand," the man ordered, ignoring my question. "Phone included. And don't even think about making a call."

I swallowed hard, panic settling in as I listened to the threatening stranger. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I realised that the stranger had no idea I was already on a call. With an Avenger nonetheless.

"I'll put it down," I narrated my actions, soon coming to realise that the object behind my back was in fact the barrel of a gun.

Hoping Wanda was still listening in and could hear the exchange, I put my phone on the ground and placed my shaking hand in the man's outstretched one. He tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans before tugging me down the steps and to a black van parked opposite my house.

Too paralysed with fear at the sight of two more strange men getting out the van, I felt my throat go dry and words get stuck at the bottom. Looking around, I hoped to find a neighbour's eyes or dog-walker's lost gaze, but nobody was here. Whoever these men were had timed their entrance perfectly.

When we reached the van, the back doors were opened and the man spun me around roughly before placing a bag on my head and shoving me inside. Hot tears ran down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering what the hell was happening and who these people were. But mostly, I hoped Wanda was already on her way.

—

The whole incident was over soon. That's what we were calling it now. The 'incident'. Of course, it could have been called other things... the kidnapping, the abduction, the capture. But we settled with the 'incident'. It was less explicit, as if minimising how utterly terrifying the whole experience was.

I never did find out who those men were. Wanda offered to tell me, feeling a need to explain herself and blame herself and drag herself down in the dirt to make me feel better, to bring me out of my silence and give me something to feel good about. I recalled her mentioning they were after her, getting to her through me – her girlfriend.

She rescued me quite quickly. Being tied up and locked away and left to cry like a child, wondering if I was going to die any minute at the hands of captors whom I had never met nor done anything to in my life, wasn't fun. People always wonder what they would do in those situations; maybe they would square up and put up a fight; maybe they would scream and shout and get everyone's attention; maybe they'd even retort with sarky remarks and go out with a blaze of glory.

I never imagined what that would be like, but I discovered I could do neither of those things. I just let them take me, let them threaten me and point their guns at me and tie me up and lock me away and–

I let myself cry and feel terrified and shake and lose my words and imagine the worst. Some would call that giving in, but this wasn't something you could prepare for. Surely my response was justified? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when Wanda burst onto the scene, taking out the men with ease and taking me out of there, taking me home, I was momentarily safe.

But then as she began to ramble off her explanations and apologies and regrets, I found myself turning in on myself, unable to hear her out. I didn't blame her one bit, but I also couldn't listen to one more second. So, I tuned her out.

I sat on the couch, staring at the way the thread was coming loose on one of my cushions. I thought about how quickly the whole 'incident' had happened. How one minute I was sat in a cell and now I was sat on my couch. How I was then shaking with fear and now I felt nothing.

"...you listening? Hey, are you okay?"

I only tuned back in when she sat on the cushion I was looking at. Her fingers rested on my cheek, guiding my head upwards so I was looking her in the eyes, glassy and red and swollen from crying. I probably looked the same, though I was all out of tears.

"I promise you nobody will be back here," she said with certainty, thumb stroking my cheek. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. agents posted all along the street. And I'm happy to stay here if you need me to. You're safe now."

I knew I was. And despite my calm exterior, my heart was still racing in my chest, adrenaline still pumping through my body as if expecting to make a sudden break for it.

"What are you thinking?" she muttered, eyes flicking between mine curiously. "Talk to me. Please."

I shook my head, looking away. "I'm okay."

"It's okay not to be," she said quietly, squeezing my hand.

"I know."

So, we kept that bit up for a few more days, maybe a week. Me pretending I was okay, though still distant from Wanda as if she'd caught the plague, and her pretending she knew I was telling the truth.

But I knew she sensed the nightmares I had, waking me up in cold sweats. I knew she saw the way I tensed when a shadow cast along the wall from a moving object. Or the way I never faced the front door when unlocking it to get inside.

I guess she couldn't take it anymore at some point, possibly a week or two later, as when I was mixing my soup in a bowl after heating it up in the microwave, she sighed loudly.

"You okay?" I asked, glancing up at her. She was stood by the counter, seeming tired.

She'd been staying with me since the incident happened, obviously, and it was nice having her around so much, despite the circumstances. But I knew she was worried and had been keeping it in. I just didn't have the energy to acknowledge it.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, though her fingers still drummed on the countertop.

I let it go, shrugging, before paying attention to my soup. Her impatience was obnoxiously loud, filling the house with a discomfort she was dying to express. Eventually, she did.

"I'm not fine," she decided, and I stopped stirring my soup as I looked to her tugging on her sleeves distractedly. "I'm not fine because you're not fine."

"I've told you I am," I said monotonously, eyes boring into hers.

"I know you're not," she said, crossing her arms and hugging herself. "I've noticed you and..."

I quirked a brow. "And?"

She frowned, eyes softening with empathy. "Don't make me say it, Y/N."

I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth as I looked down to my steaming soup.

"Talk to me," she pleaded, rounding the counter and leaning beside me, searching for my eyes. "I just want to help."

I swallowed hard. "I have nothing to say, Wanda."

"A really scary thing happened," she began hesitantly. "The fact that you don't have anything to say– that you've not said anything, isn't right."

"Well, I guess there's something wrong with me," I said dismissively, before grabbing the pepper grinder before me and using it.

"No, there's not," she reassured, not giving up. "You just need to talk.”

I set the grinder down, turning to face her abruptly. She straightened up with surprise, taking a small step back.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, voice calm but full of unintentional malice. "Huh? What do you want me to tell you? That I'm terrified somebody is watching my house, waiting for a quiet moment to break in? That I have to follow you into every room you go in because I don't want to be left alone? That I can't fucking sleep because I'm scared that when I close my eyes, I'll be locked in a nightmare I can't escape? Is that what you want me to tell you? Does that make you feel better, Wanda? Because it doesn't make me feel any better. It just reminds me how fucking terrified I am."

I pocketed my shaking hands, blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, swallowed down the lump rising in my throat. She watched me, unsure what to say at first and I didn't blame her. It was an outburst waiting to happen.

"I'm–"

"Don't say you're sorry," I snapped, before flinching at my tone. "I know you're sorry. And I don't blame you for what happened. I just– I don't know what to do anymore."

Her eyes were studying me like green lasers burning holes into my skin and I hated that I couldn't meet them. I hated even more that I couldn't leave the kitchen out of anger or frustration because I was too scared to be left alone without her by my side.

So, I leaned against the counter, turning away from her, and let out a shaky breath, eyes burning and heart thumping in my ears. Her arms suddenly wrapped around me without question, and I let her take me into her chest, squeezing me so tight so I knew she was there.

Closing my eyes, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, but no sound came out. I struggled to breathe, unable to take in air through my nose as I stuffed my head so hard into her shirt that I couldn't see a thing except darkness. I knew I'd eventually be okay, that I'd eventually get back to some sense of normalcy. But for now, having her here with me was okay. And I found it much better to just be with her then have to go over and talk it out.

She was warm and strong and smelt like home and God, I loved her. I was lucky to have her.

—

It took about a month and a half to get over the incident. And after that, we never brought it up again. It was just easier that way. We continued on like usual, falling back into our old routine of having a separate us and her separate superhero life.

At some point, I thought it would be nice for her to meet my parents. They were back in town for the week, wanting to check in and see how I was. It was nice having them around and I was excited for them to meet Wanda, who I'd mentioned in some of our Skype calls.

"We don't have to make it a thing," I said as I proposed the idea. We were cleaning around Anna's apartment as she napped in her bedroom. "It's not like an 'oh, meet the parents' thing. They just happen to be in town and we're having a dinner, so I thought you might want to come. If you don't, it's not a big deal. I haven't told them to expect you. Not unless you say yes. Which you don't have to."

She chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Dorogoy (darling), calm down. Breathe."

I neatened the cushions on the couch with a bit too much force. "Am I not breathing? I'm pretty sure I'm breathing."

Her hands slipped into mine as she spun me around to face her. An amused smile on her lips, she said, "You need to relax. If you're like this now, then who knows what you'll be like on the night of the dinner?"

It took me a second to realise what she'd said and when I did, my eyes widened. "Wait, the night of the– does that mean you're going?"

She laughed, tugging me closer to her. "Yes, I'm going. I'd love to meet your parents!"

My shoulders relaxed as her fingers played with mine mindlessly. A smile appeared on my lips as I said, "Thank you. I– it'll be fun. No pressure. Just a dinner."

"Just a dinner," she confirmed, before kissing my forehead gently. "Can't wait."

And so on the day before my parents left for Scotland, yet another trip on their never ending retirement travels, I waited for Wanda to pick me up so we could go to a restaurant to meet my parents, who were already there after spending the day shopping in town.

She arrived at the door with a beautiful smile and bright eyes, looking me up and down.

"Just on time," I teased, tilting my head to the side, before being serious. "You look amazing tonight, Wanda."

"As do you, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said sweetly, leaning forward to kiss my cheek, before stepping inside. "Also, these are for you."

She removed her hand from behind her back as I closed the door, revealing a gorgeous, colourful bouquet of flowers.

"I saw them and thought of you," she began to explain without even realising how cute she was; a smile crept on my lips as she continued, "but then I realised I've never gotten you flowers before which is very dumb of me because a pretty girl deserves pretty flowers, right?"

There was no doubt that my face was heating up from the attention, flustered yet honoured at her words.

"Wanda, I love them," I said, accepting the flowers and meeting her gaze. "And to be fair, nobody has ever gotten me flowers before."

"You're kidding," she said with disbelief, stepping forward and wrapping her arms loosely around my waist. Reading my serious expression, she added, "Not even for your birthday? Or a celebration?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

She gave me a knowing look. "Well, that's very unfortunate. But I'm glad I could be the first."

I held her gaze, amusement dancing in her smile. Mirroring her expression, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up delightfully.

"Me, too," I said, and I meant it.

"Come on, we should get going," she said, squeezing my waist before letting go. "Don't want to be late, do we?"

"We do not," I agreed, before putting the flowers in a vase of water and leaving them by the door.

"You ready?" she asked, holding open the front door.

I intertwined our hands and met her smile with my own. "I'm ready."

Taking the girlfriend to meet the parents. What could go wrong?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

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

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

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

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

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

________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re young. How old?”

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

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

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

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said. 

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

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

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

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

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

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

“How am I doing so far?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What exactly should I be asking?”

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

“What’s the difference?”

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

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

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

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

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

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

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

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

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Single for all that,” you said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

Monday Morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Ackles-”

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

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

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

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

“You think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

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

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

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

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

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

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

“You actually got me a cake?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Drink?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

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

“Looks ain’t everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I bought a cake.”

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!