#never even learned to drive the forklift

[stopfunkinwmyheart]

I don’t even care to get too deep into it but family legitimately neglected and abused the fuck out of me. So you can assume I’m the corny little dude putting holes in the drywall but this isn’t that. It’s crazy to me to think like so many people who are supposed to be there for me, who tell me they love me and shit, but it’s just like for show because they know they’re supposed to. Meanwhile when I actually need literally anything I’m beat and actually I’m a lazy dickhead for not robbing people already. Like on my soul my whole family is sociopaths. I’m just supposed to get shit popping somehow, that’s life I’m a man. Meanwhile they give jobs to crackheads and lazy ass retards. Like “my belly hurts I can’t go” type shit. In some way like I figured okay maybe they think like these people need more help, which okay that’s fair. But at some point like I need basic help. I’m the only person in my family who wants a normal life who has to steal for it. Anybody else in my position wants drugs.

[chaoticbug]

I'm rereading gallagher girls and can I just say I'd Tell You I'd Love You But Then I'd Have to Kill You is so funny if you think about it from Josh's perspective.

Like you're just vibing at a fair and then all the sudden you see a girl reaching her hand into a trashcan to grab a soda bottle, you make eye contact and the first thing she says is "I have a cat." You have a silly little conversation about her cat who loves bottles, and learn she is homeschooled for religious reasons and then you leave thinking she's cute.

Then you run into her a few more times including at outside your neighbors surprise party, that she claims she was going to but then never enters. You ask this girl how to keep in touch because you like her, and she says no phone or email, leave notes in this wall instead???? You try to figure out what church this "homeschooled for religious reasons and doesn't have a phone" girl goes to and you have no idea.

You start dating her-still messaging through the wall- she never lets you take her home, she gets really confused when you give her a present on her birthday, almost like she forgot it was her birthday?

Then your friend claims that your girlfriend isn't actually homeschooled, she actually goes to the super exclusive boarding school for rich girls in your home town. When you catch her outside the school, she breaks up with you, claiming she was bored and that's why she dated you and then she IMMEDIATELY GETS KIDNAPPED.

So you do what any normal person would do, you call the cops. you try and rescue her and she's mad about it??? Claims it was a school thing??? And now she's fighting people off and ziplinning away while saying she never had a cat???

So your next rational move is to steal a forklift and drive it through the wall to save your girlfriend from whatever craziness she's involved in.

Then you're taken back to the boarding school, learn its actually a school for spies, your girlfriend is a spy and has lied to you about every single detail about herself, even down to her birthday and her dad being dead. Literally nothing you know about this girl except for her first name is true, and you've been dating for months.

And then her mom gives you special tea that makes you forget everything since she dumped you and you immediately start dating your girl best friend.

Like this poor man lmao

[killiancormac]

🚗💤🐷💛🥯🤩 for aleksi <3

🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars?

He can drive + has a license, I like to imagine he got it pretty young, maybe around 17 :] he always liked to imagine one day he’d get in his car and just drive as far away from Bright Falls as possible. That never happened.

I don’t think he can operate anything other than a car tbh. It’d be funny if he was forklift certified idk when that would happen but I can see it

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

Light sleeper. His sleep could be a lot better, to be honest. He doesn’t sleep as often as he should, and when he does, he’s easy to wake. He tends to be on guard a lot, even when he doesn’t need to be. Force of habit. When he’s out hunting for Taken in Cauldron Lake, he doesn’t sleep. If he does, he makes sure it’s during daylight hours.

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?

He’s a dog guy I think…… but more specifically I can see him really liking wolves :] follows a bunch of wolf conservation accounts on social media. This definitely extends back to his childhood too I think. I just know he had a shelf of wolf plushies

💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

English and Finnish! He’s fluent in both, but he would consider english to be his first language. He’s always been interested in learning ASL, too.

🥯 BAGEL — what does your oc's typical breakfast look like? do they usually eat breakfast?

Cigarette and coffee <3 but for real, he’s not much of a breakfast person. His breakfasts, when he has them, are quick and low effort.

🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions?

A bit of both? He won't say no to a plan if someone has something laid out, and he appreciates structure where he can find it, but most of what he does is simply going with the flow.

[myceliumbean]

Cars 2 Agents AU How did Rod survive III

Featuring: In which they rest

Summary: the agents were on a mission, and everything went wrong soon after they entered Russian airspace

Dammit, I just couldn't find a proper place for Rod struggling to tell them about his near-death experience and thus considering changing the chapter names

She's in golden red paint. Holley watched as Julia sneaked into the hangar, woke up Eva, bumped Boris' front tires with a cheerful smile, put down the boxes she carried, and waved goodbye to the team before leaving.

"Much like a storm of energy and cheers, right?"

"Wha- oh, yeah, she's…" Holley turned to face Alyona, who had taken out another cup of cocoa and sipping on it happily. Someone's goot to stop the forklift from taking in this much caffeine. "Is she even at your age?"

"Ah ha! Eva, you owe me one!" Alyona made a resounding "ching" with her tines. "Julia is much older than me, even Michaele, if you would like to know, maybe… let me think about someone… oh, she's like Boris' daughter, and I'm more like his granddaughter!"

The Ilyushin-76 in the background made a not-very-heartily protest and said something like "I'm not that old".

Eva chuckled and smashed the hude cargo plane on his front tires. "Aw, but you almost act like that, you and Zil are equally overprotective."

Boris rolled his eyes, and tilted to the side to take a proper look at Holley and Alyona. "Well, if that's how you want to phrase it, then I'm gonna adopt Siddeley."

Daniil choked at the unexpected words, and Michaele made a soft noise as he tried to bit back his laughter. Then, Alyona smacked the forklift on the back of his red helm, and the two bursted into laughter as they playfully chased down each other, driving circles in the big hangar.

Holley didn't realize she's smilling too, until Daniil drove up and tapped her with his tine. "You look good when you're smiling. Don't be too worried about your friends, they're safe with us."

"…thank you, Daniil. It's just- I don't know, I'm never afraid even we're pointed by guns and completely outnumbered." Holley shuddered as she recalled the feeling of Finn lying limp against her frame, or how cold Rod is when Finn told her the American spy had passed out. "I know it isn't good for us agents being too close or too attached to others, but I can't…"

"Get some rest." Daniil smiled warmly, as if he could read Holley's thought so easily like flipping a book. "You'll need it. Zil has so many things to tell you. I'll take Alyona to check on the other two agents, feel free to call us if you have any question."

"I will. Thank you, Daniil."

Watching as the two forklifts headed for the door to the hangar on the left, Holley let herself drift into her own thoughts.

Finn Mcmissile. Rod Redline. Siddeley. Even Mater, who they had mistaken as Rod. They're all great people.

Holley had joined the mission by accident. She's supposed to hand over the information and period. It was Finn who insisted that he'll need her help and pulled Holley into the center of danger. Not that she's complaining, really, she had learn so much from the field, and fron Finn himself.

If Holley's honest enough to herself, she's actually scared of how fast she became friends with Finn and Mater. Siddeley, on the other hand, was not really close to Holley, but they went well together, and their similar age made the interaction more like ordinary friends than mentor and mentee.

The jaguar would probably get lost in her thoughts forever if that bright red figure didn't stayed there for enough time at the corner of her eyes.

Holley didn't recognize that car. She casted a glance at Boris, but the big guy just continuously reading his book and use his wing to cover Siddeley up with some piece of canvas everytime when the Gulfstream V shuddered in his coma and caused the canvas to slip off.

But as far as she knew, the hangars near this one were control areas, no way they're allowing some random vehicles wandering around like that.

Holley looked at that red car, who might be a jaguar too, and got a look and a smile back.

Chrysler, why on the world was this stranger smiling at me?

That bright red jaguar waved a front tire at Holley and quickly headed to the right side of the hangar, opened the door, and disappeared behind it.

"…um, Boris?"

"Yes, Ms. Shiftwell." The Ilyushin moved his gaze from his book to the small purple jaguar. "Anything wrong?"

"Well, that red jaguar… is it fine to let someone else in? Or is the car part of the team?"

"Ah, him." Boris somehow sounded amused. "He's fine, Zil called him in for some security assistance."

"Oh, I see. Maybe I'm too worried about my friends… will you mind if I take a nap here?"

"No. Just suit yourself, Ms. Shiftwell, I'll look after you guys." Boris said certainly. "I'll wake you up if they're awake."

"That will be appreatiated, thank you. And just call me Holley."

"Good. Now sleep, Holley, Zil's gonna push you to the very end of your strength."

@longjiaojiao had joked about Julia being Zil and Boris' adopted daughter, and I think putting this in would be fun, as Eva was almost the same age as Boris (and they're both a bit younger than Zil) and one of her best interests is teasing her relatively more serious colleagues

Alyona, by the way, is the youngest of the team, even might be younger than Holley, while Siddeley being a bit older than she in this AU

And congratulate to our ghostly-wardering-around and having-too-few-canon-scene C.H.R.O.M.E. agent, Leland Turbo for making his debut in the AU!

[emeraldbabygirl]

I got laid off from my job and I was offered another position within the company right and so it was either sanitation or helping out in formulation and since I don’t like formulation and know I can’t drive a forklift or lift the buckets I figured sanitation and also gotta snag the opening while I can or else I’d have to do the unemployment nightmare. I’m supposed to start Sunday night and I’m trying to just block everything out rn because I’m scared. I’m nervous about a new environment and having to learn more about chemicals and handling them and cleaning the kettles like perfect and I’m afraid of failing and messing up and panicking and crying in front of the other employees cause then they’ll think I’m a pussy which I am but it’d be embarrassing to cry first day on the job. Idk what do to come Sunday, if I chicken out that would have been a waste of time for the people that interviewed me and HR and I’d feel bad. If I go through with the job I’m going to be on edge the entire time and idk how long this lay off will last like what if the apple department I originally was hired for never comes back and my old company doesn’t contact me and I’m stuck in sanitation forever? I’m afraid of trying any other job; retail, office work, anything. Like I’ve worked production at fruit packaging plants since I was 16 I feel like I am not capable physically or mentally of anything important like stocking shelves and working a cash register and dealing with people and recording info into computers and stuff like I am scared of everything. And I’ve been told stuff like I can do anything I put my mind to blah blah blah and I catch on quickly and all that stuff well if I didn’t have anxiety and a better brain this would be a breeze but my brain is like that of a 5 year old sometimes and I just shut down or panic idk how I’m supposed to make it through life as a fully functioning adult :( like it’s always easier said then done I wish I didn’t have anxiety about this job ugh I hate it here ㅠㅠ

I even attempted to turn to being a sugar baby and let me tell you everyone is scary and scam-y and I just wish I had enough money to live comfortably and not have to worry about losing my job and not being able to take care of the bills and pets idk what to do I want to give up. I’ve tried praying so far just once but I’m not religious and I feel silly asking for guidance idk what to do I want to give up on everything. I just want to stay in bed 24/7 and rot I’m tired and scared and worried and idk what to do.

[tricos-here]

🚗✈️🌴😊 forrrrr steph, jiahao and mei! <3

🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars?

this feels like a trick question for steph smh

once again raises the question if licenses are a thing in gw2 but, Steph wouldn't necessarily have one, considering she'd been with the Aetherblades for so long (who needs a license when you're a pirate) but she can operate and drive a whole slew of vehicles and machinery, be it airships or her gyrocycle or mech(suits), you name it. The siege turtle is not machinery and she will not take the slander that it crashing into the wall is somehow her fault

(for fun's sake in a modern au she wouldn't have a license either because while she knows how to drive, she drives like a maniac on a course so she keeps failing her exams)

Jiahao knows how to operate most machinery, mostly whatever the Brotherhood uses and especially anything used in mining, like big drills, cranes, forklifts etc. That said, he is a little country village boy that grew up in the Echovald Forest, he's got his trusty kirin and that's it, put him on anything high speed and he'll either crash into a wall or bail out

(in modern au he'd have a license and some beat up pickup truck just out of necessity)

now Mei.... I don't think she bothers honestly, she probably could deduct how to operate a vehicle/ machinery but why go through all the trouble when you're a mesmer and you can teleport about and/or conjure a mount. She'll leave the driving and flying to others 💅

(BUT modern au just to continue w theme, I think she would have a license and some sports bike)

✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person?

Steph does enjoy traveling to a degree, not that she was given much of a choice either way with the Aetherblades, but she does enjoy seeing new places and learning things. That said, given the chance she'd be rather homey, she'd love to stay in and do fuck-all most days.

Jiahao is definitely the homey kind, the fact he even had to venture out of his little village and outside the Echovald Forest, to not even go that far (mainly operating around the Gyala Delve, the Echovald Fringe in Jade Sea and occasionally New Kaineng), already has had him itching to go back.

for Mei answered here!

🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening?

Absolutely not in both accounts, Steph could kill a succulent if she really tried, she knows machines and medicine, she's never really bother with plants nor cares for them. She does have some cacti and zz plants in her little apartment in New Kaineng, supposedly they were already there when she got the apartment, and by some miracle they're still alive

Jiahao is green thumb connoisseur, he doesn't enjoy gardening per say, it's not really a hobby to him, but his family would grow crops so he knows his stuff

Mei would hypothetically enjoy gardening and probably have a bunch of plants scattered all over her place, but considering she doesn't stay in any one place too long, it's not something she's gotten into

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

This one is hard 💆

Steph once upon a time wanted to make a name for herself and make a career out of her inventions, but with her mentor taking credit of her creations and her then getting snatched up by the Aetherblades and consequently getting stuck in the Mists for several years, that ship has sailed. At this point she just wants to stop being dragged into conflict and having to keep saving people, she just wants to tinker to her heart's content

Jiahao doesn't really have any career goals, he mostly just wants to figure out what happened to his sister and make it out alive from whatever the hell is going on in Gyala Delve. He wants to go back to that farmer life honestly

now Mei. Honestly she's still an enigma to me 🕵‍♂️ I know she's fucking with magic and groups she shouldn't but no idea what her end goal is, nor what her life desires are. We'll found out soon enough (looks to the camera like in the office)

[subtletruamadumping]

Protect the Kids

______________________________________________________________

A short form work where I word-vomit a lot of the fear and stress that has been building for the past few months. Being trans is pretty scary right now and it pisses me off that the people who are actually doing the abuse are blaming innocent people who were often their victims.

TW: Depictions of Neglect, Abuse, CSA, Self Harm, Suicide. Religious Trauma and Transphobia.

Date Written: March 17, 2023

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I’m 14 years old and it’s just something I’ve learned to expect on Sundays. It’s been happening since I was 12. All I can do is stand there and pretend I’m not bothered by the Deacon running his fingers through my hair. I miss our old deacon, but his wife got sick and they had to move away. I started wearing it in a high ponytail, but it didn’t matter. He still managed to get his fingers in there, twisting my young, blonde hair around his fingers. I can’t pull away, act annoyed, tell him to stop. I’ve done it before. I’ve gone so far as to slap him with my ponytail when he gets too close, to cross the small Sacristy to get just a few feet of space between us, or waited as long as I could in the changing room. As punishment, my hair was pulled, I was followed, and he came looking for me. If I talk back or show him any attitude, he makes a point to embarrass me or put me down. He makes sure to keep me in my place, trading backhanded compliments with quizzes about Catholic Doctrine to try and trip me up. He shows over and over again that he’s the one with the power. He’s heard my confessions before and has made it clear that my mom will know all about them if I keep ‘being disrespectful’.

I’m 17 and I am moving off to college. I’ve been writing out my feelings using familiar characters and my step dad found a particularly lustful collection. It’s the second time my “homosexual tendencies” and “gender non-conformance” have come to light after I had almost been thrown out of the house over them. It won’t be the last time. I’m sitting in the front seat of the car, curled up as small as I can possibly make myself. I can’t escape the harsh interrogation he is putting me through after forcing me to read graphic and violent accounts of women being raped at college, saying that’s my fate if I keep breaking their rules. He asks over and over again until I finally break down and admit to him that I have touched myself before. It’s not enough for him and he worms specifics out of me. I’m hysterically sobbing, I want to throw up, but he weasels every little detail from me, threatening to tell my mom all the information if I don’t spill my guts to him. I tell him I’ve never actually had an orgasm because the guilt eats at me from the inside. The conversation shifts. He’s giving me advice, touching my arm, asking if he can help me. He wants to watch, to teach me how. I scream at him, a new wave of tears and horror that makes him jump back in shock. He relents, but demands that when we get back to the hotel room I masturbate and tell him about it. If I don’t, mom will know everything I’ve been forced to confess to him. When they finally leave to go back home, I throw away every notebook, journal, and diary I have. I start dating one of the boys in my program a few days later as a cover.

I’m 18 working at a hardware store and I have been accepted as “one of the boys” by the delivery crew in the back of the store. It’s the first time in a long time I’ve felt like I’m allowed to be myself. I have a crush that’s not on a girl, for once, and I get so much praise for being the only girl who’s able to hang with the boys. I’m the only girl they’re willing to trust to help them mauver washers and dryers, drive the forklift, occasionally even take out on delivery to help install the appliances. I even get my own bag of tools. Besides some of the weirdest gender affirmations I’ve ever experienced, working in the back allowed me to get away from the creepy 21 year old who I used to work at the registers with. He’s been known to follow me out to my car, try to get my address of paperwork, and calls and texts me millions of times a day. Also at the register is someone who throws a wrench into my entire world view. My faith has long since been shaken, but now face to face with someone my parents taught me to hate and I just can’t imagine why or how they would want that. They have the cutest laugh, beautiful eyes framed with statement glasses, and an awkward, playful air that makes me feel at ease. They’re much closer to my age, taking college courses and also trying to get away from their parents. I think I have a crush on them too, but I can’t tell anyone. They share with me they’re starting hormone therapy. I’m happy they trust me with that info, but I’ve been so sheltered I don’t know what to do with the info. I never even ask them what pronouns they like. My crush on them confuses me more, but I don’t even care. I’m planning on moving out of my house soon and so are they. I wonder out loud if I might be able to find a roommate and wonder in my head if they are also looking for a roommate. My mom reads through my texts and forbids me from talking to them. I get my license taken away as punishment for talking to a trans person. Now, she is the one driving me to and from work to make sure I’m not influenced by their “agenda”, anymore. I do move out and swallow an entire bottle of pills.

I’m 16 and still an altar server. One of the best. He likes to stand in the changing room with the servers, taking a very long time to step out of his own robes. Our acolyte sits on top of our usual church outfits, but I can’t help the prickling on the back of my neck as I step out of the black robes. Why do I still need to wear a dress and heels when it’s all going to be covered, anyway? Why can’t I go back to wearing pants like I did for so many years? I have nice pants. He’ll follow me out of the room, not even hiding his eyes looking me up and down. He’s just short of licking his lips from being a cartoon villain; one that everyone would pick out instantly. He talks about how nice my body looks in that dress, how I’m so mature, how he likes smart girls as I stand in front of where my family was seated for the Mass. My mom says nothing. I thank him for the compliment. It’s confusing that the only person in my life that I don’t want to hear these things from is the only one telling them to me. Mom, Grandma, sisters and brothers, are always telling me how ugly, fat, stupid, annoying I am. The compliment makes me feel good, but the man it’s coming from makes me sick. I try so hard to play into the role of woman that God has forced me into and the deacon is the only one who seems to like it. I try to drown myself a few weeks later because I don’t want to slit my wrist in case little sister is the one to find me.

I’m 23, toying with they/them pronouns and gender neutral names in private since no one, not even my boyfriend, is willing to see me as anything but a woman. I play hockey and figure skate, still getting my gender affirmations from places that I never thought would matter before. I’ve recently changed to black skates from the traditional white, a statement that doesn’t mean anything to anyone but myself. I’m out as bi at work, but still playing cis. I want to be open, but I’m still not sure about my own shit and I don’t want to confuse people with new names or pronouns. I tried that with my coach and she promptly forgot everything I told her. Never once tried my new name or pronouns. Too much work, I guess. Then, a glimpse of hope. I notice a hockey stick sitting behind the counter. I pick it up to take a closer look at it. It’s not weird for the hockey boys to leave their gear behind the counter before or after their shifts, so it must belong to one of them. But… but… it has the trans flag and pride flag on it. The grip is layered with different colors of tape that make a rainbow. This by itself could just be one of the boys trying to subvert expectations, like how so many boys in my class in elementary school wore those shirts that said “real men wear pink” and made a big deal about not liking the color blue. It could be that, but the layers of blue, pink, white, then reversed makes me think different. A rainbow is a rainbow, but the trans flag had to be on purpose… didn’t it? Was there someone else like me, afterall? I wanted to scream out onto the rink, to bag someone to let me know I wasn’t the only one. Please, God, I am so alone, please, just let there be someone else. It didn’t matter if it was one of the hockey boys who trashed the rink. It didn’t matter if they were one of the stuck up teens. It didn’t matter if they hated me and thought I was cringe because I was a few years older than them. Just please, please I can’t stand being so alone. I just need to know you’re there. You don’t have to like me, we don’t have to talk, I won’t bother you, I won’t tell anyone else if you’re not out. I just need to know it’s not just me.

I’m 7 years old, still being forced to visit my dad every summer, Christmas, and every other Thanksgiving. I don’t want to go, but I know my mom won’t listen to me when I tell her why. She doesn’t even believe me when I feel sick, how would she believe me about something so much bigger. Older sister always is the favorite, managing to never face any punishment despite being an actual moron and screwing things up all the time. Little sister is… little. I can’t let anything happen to her. That’s my job. I take the blame for whatever she does that sets dad off. Leaving the toothpaste cap off, forgetting to put away the blankets on the couches we sleep on, using too much ice in our water. Anything could be a reason to bring out the belt, so I claim that I did everything. She stacks blocks in the living room blissfully unaware and it’s going to stay that way. There’s a new form of punishment this summer that I don’t know how to handle. It started as demanding we keep the door open as we change clothes. I use a sheet to cover little sister with and older sister gets a separate room to change in. I get yelled at for trying to change behind the bed frame. Dad watches horror movies in the living room that little sister and I sleep in so late into the night that we have to take refuge in older sister’s bedroom. I end up peeing my pants because I’m too scared to leave to go to the bathroom. The screaming lasts until dawn. Dad throws open the door to the bathroom while I’m having my shower because I didn’t finish all my dinner and laughs at the fact that he startled me. Now I have to plan when it’s safe for little sister to take a shower, making sure to stay in one of the rooms adjacent to the bathroom to run interference if I have to. 

I’m 23 and I found the other queer person at the rink. I saw him going to practice with the stick covered in pride tape. He’s one of the chill teens, just about to leave for college. We hardly ever have a shift together since I work during school times, but we’ve talked once or twice since I’m just getting into hockey and he coaches the rookies. I want to ask him about it, to confirm that he’s not just an ally. I’m so alone, but I don’t want to just bring it up out of the blue. Pride month, an easy way to start a conversation, has already passed. He mentions in passing that his parents and he disagree on things, how they are trying to force him to be someone he’s not. I say I’ve been in that place before, but the conversation drops off. I don’t want to assume and I don’t want to force him out if he’s not ready. I've also added rainbow tape to my hockey stick, but I’m also already open about being bi. I don’t think he knows that since we hardly ever work together, but I don’t have the colors for the nonbinary flag, so it’s the best I can do, currently. When I first started working here, I tried to introduce myself as one of my gender neutral names and was promptly told no one would be calling me that. It feels like an unsafe place to be trans, so I don’t push it. I’d rather be alone than someone else be unsafe.

I’m 12 years old and I’ve already made up my mind. Dad said that when I was 12 I was allowed to make a decision about living with him or with my mom permanently. I know he wants me to stay with him. He’s already brain washed my older sister that his place is better than home. She never gets punished here. She gets away with anything and everything. For me, it’s choosing the lesser of two evils and it’s an easy choice. It’s truly a wonder why he thought I would ever choose to live with him. Did he think I forgot everything that happened? My little sister had managed to go this long relatively unscathed and I wasn’t going to let him have another chance at it. I talk to her privately in the weeks leading up to when he’s supposed to pick us up. She’s a little confused, but I make it clear we’re not going back. She knows there’s something about going there that’s bad, but she doesn’t really understand the same way I do. She never will. I’d die before that happens. When he gets to our front door, I stand there and tell him I’m not going. That little sister and I aren’t going. He tries to convince me, promises fun, candy, a break from church. I’m immovable, using my own little frame between him and little sisters. As if it would matter. It doesn't take too long before he just shrugs and takes older sister with him. He never liked me, anyway, and he knows she is easier to manipulate. From now on, little sister and I don’t even go to the door when he shows up, but hide upstairs in our room as he takes older sister. I tell my mom about this neat fact that most people have suicidal thoughts. She tells me she’s never felt like that and that she must just be so much stronger than most people. I stop telling her things.

I’m 24 and it’s only been a few months since I found the only other trans person at the rink. I finally got the nerve to ask him about the flag. It’s the last shift we have together before he leaves for college by the end of the week. I literally cannot stall anymore. “You don’t have to”, “only if you want”, “I don’t want to be in your business” and so many other things fall out of my mouth before I finally spit out my question. He laughs and says he has the flags because he is a part of the community, not just an ally. I’ve learned my lesson and ask for pronouns or a new name. He says he still uses the same name and uses any pronouns. He’s not picky about them. I try to tell him that I’m a part of the community, that I use they/them, that I want to use a new name, but the conversation is interrupted by the other teen working with us coming back from putting cones away. He starts complaining about Algebra homework, so we help him with it. I’ve always been good at math, especially Algebra. I leave the rink to work a shift at my other job, my stomach a mess of competing emotions. I’m not alone, but I am about to be, again. They are going out into the world to live a better life while I’m stuck in this bigoted state, at least for now. I didn’t even get the chance to explain why I was asking, to try and prove that the community could survive here. With every law that gets passed, I don’t know if it can. Sometimes when I’m driving, the cliffs look really enticing.

I’m 15. I spend so much time in my own head to try and escape the things happening in real life. When people are talking at church, I’m thinking about the girl I have a crush on instead of paying attention. I must have missed something, some piece of gossip. One Sunday, the Deacon’s wife and granddaughter were there. The next, they weren’t. It wasn’t too weird. The granddaughter seemed to spend half the time with the deacon and the other half with her parents. I didn’t even really notice that she was gone. She’s older sister’s friend, not mine. It’s one of the few times I’m not actually serving the Mass, so I sit with my family and drift away in daydreams, but still do a good job of pretending like I’m praying. After the Mass, we’re waiting for the brother that’s finally old enough to also be a server to finish all the chores. Mom leans over with a very serious face, warning us to not believe the things we’ve heard. I don’t even know what she’s talking about, but later on in the PAC I overhear her talking to one of her church friends. Something about how that girl needed to be taken back to her parents because she was tempting the deacon. I continue to help teach the younger kids the things that have been drilled into my head. Maybe I should have said something, but what if I’m the one being called “temping”? What if I’m the next one to be sent away? I don’t eat for days.

I’m 24. I’ve been going by a new name and new pronouns at home with the trans roommates I managed to find on a queer dating app. I tried Craigslist, but they just wanted sex. I tried roommates.com, but they wanted a maid. I tried so many different sites and was called so many slurs and threatened with everything under the sun by the people who call me a menace to society. Another queer person was the one who suggested a dating app, since the only way we can be safe is when we carve out a place on our own. I’m trying to move back to the more liberal part of the state since I still don’t have the funds to get out completely. I’m spending the weekend with an old friend to do some apartment hunting as well as hit as many job interviews as I can. I mentioned to them years ago that I wanted to use they/them pronouns and go by a different name, but she never made the change. I don’t push it. She’s known me for a long time, change is hard, she’s Christian, English isn’t her first language; any excuse to not have to lose one of my only friends. She’s been really supportive of me being pan, but I don’t hold my breath about trans issues. She surprises me by asking point blank if I go by a different name. I tell her I am and what it is. She asks more questions and I explain what nonbinary is, why I like they/them, that I’m on the fence about HRT, but definitely don’t want kids, but do want top surgery. I think it’s too much too fast for her, because she seems a little upset hearing I might change myself physically. I can tell she’s trying to be supportive, since she apologizes every time she uses my old name and avoids all pronouns to be safe. I know I should have more patience, but I’m so tired of having to be the educator for cis people all the time.

I’m 24 years old. I’m so tired of having to answer “why?” all the time. I’m tired of other people telling me what they think I mean when I explain how I’m feeling. I’m tired of other people telling me what I am and am not allowed to do to my own body. Tired of hearing I’ll regret it, I shouldn’t make these changes too hastily as if I hadn’t been thinking about it since I could think. I’m tired of having to tone myself down and play the politics game to try and prove that I am who I say I am. I’m so tired of having to educate the masses because they see us as an easy target because they don’t understand. I’m tired. I’m tired of the people doing the actual harm living their lives as if nothing happened while trans people are being blamed for things that never happened. I’m tired of being a victim from every angle, but being treated like the perpetrator. I’m tired of being scared of being hurt by someone who made up a scenario in their head where I would be the one hurting people. I can’t even rent a car and I have to be the one explaining to decrepit politicians what they damn well already know. Trans people are not the villains. Trans people are just the scapegoat.

I’m 24 and there is never a day that goes by that someone like me is being harassed, abused, or killed. I don’t even watch the news, but it still finds me. The people who proudly fly flags with Swastikas on them scream with red faces how I am endangering their children because some old, white man told them so. I show evidence, statistics, facts that prove the opposite and they spit in my face. They write laws that allow child marriages while simultaneously riling up their followers to be violent to queer people. The church sweeps “misconduct” under the rug while calling for gay people to be shot in the back of the head. They want us to be eradicated for reasons that don’t exist while tearing down marriage equality and letting off rapists with a smile. They paint a target on my back and when I try to stand up for myself, so many “allies” come out of the woodwork to tell me to shut up, that I’m asking for too much to be treated with some humanity. My mom told me people like me don’t deserve rights while telling me she still loved me. She told me she would always vote against me, but calls me selfish for not wanting to talk to her. I don’t know of a place that actually feels like home. It’s insanity to watch the people with the smoking gun claim they are the ones getting shot.

I’m 24 and I want to get to 25. 

I don’t know if I will.

[rainboq]

What professions can you see Chloe getting into?

The most common one is tattoo artist, which does make a lot of sense. I've also seen a fic where she is a mechanic and another where she is in IT.

The short, not very helpful answer is that it depends.

To get into the weeds of it, well... take a seat.

Chloe is extremely intelligent, she's honestly probably the smartest person in Arcadia Bay that we see by a long shot, but after losing William and Max she lost all motivation due to that trauma and the resulting depression (and maybe BPD?). We know that prior to all of that she was really interested in chemistry and science, enough to get into a prestigious school on a scholarship.

When we do see Chloe motivated, we see her devouring research into what Max's powers and dreams might mean, getting books about it, scouring the internet, etc, or repairing a run down truck with whatever she can find in a junkyard.

We also know that Chloe has a flair for visual arts. We see her drawings, the collages up in her room, the graffiti she leaves around Arcadia Bay and Blackwell. Art is an outlet for her, and is something she can engage in when she has low motivation.

Plus we know she likes to work with her hands and has a mind for the mechanical, which we see with her truck.

There's also room to speculate if she has ADHD (which is under-diagnosed in women) given her impulsivity, energy, and fluctuating interests and need to explore, along with divergent thinking and intuitive understanding of systems that might seem really complex out there. (Pricefield as ADHD/Autism solidarity is great, fight me)

So with those cards on the table, we get to the "It depends" part, where we can split this up into a few different areas depending on what happens in Chloe's life when you're setting out to write her.

If you want to follow canon or something like it, Chloe's going to be in a low motivation state. She'll struggle to really apply herself, even at things she's good at, because she's struggling with her mental health. Whatever work she gets is going to be whatever requires the least amount of schooling or allows her to learn on the job. Things like a tattoo artist, being a mechanic, retail work, even IT can be entered into with minimal schooling, I should know, that's what I did. Other options include being a general gig/temp worker, manual labour like warehouse labour, operating a forklift, or trucking. If it doesn't require a lot or any schooling, Chloe can probably do it and excel at it, after all, she's probably the smartest person int he building. If you want to get illegal with it, like I have in some works, Chloe wouldn't have a lot of trouble fitting into the drug trade, either dealing, smuggling, or putting her aptitude for chemistry to work on the production side. Additionally, there's modelling work that could come up if she's in the orbit of Rachel. Rachel might be a bit short to be a model, but Chloe? They'd snap her up.

Then we've got Chloe in a state of medium or moderate motivation. Maybe things with Rachel worked out and they escaped, maybe Chloe's been getting the help she needs, or maybe a different partner is helping her. She isn't in a place to really throw herself into schooling, and going back at all might take some prodding, but she'll make it through the training needed to be in more skilled trades, probably ones that enable her more compassionate or side to come out. Vet tech springs to mind, or even nursing. She could also pursue her artistic side in more depth, getting into an art program to really push her skills as a tattoo artist, a sculptor, or in street art. She might also look into becoming a programmer or engineer if she's got the means to support herself through a full four year program, but she might struggle with her drive.

Chloe in a highly motivated state? Hellllooooo Dr. Price. Maybe her dad never died, or Max never left, or everything is fine and nothing hurts. If Chloe's academic pursuits aren't interrupted by trauma and pain, she's got a good shot at going all the way with chemistry to getting her PhD. Maybe she focuses more on people and becomes a doctor, a psychologist, or even a social worker? Maybe she focuses on physics or biology?

Really the sky is the limit here, but that's also a huge part of the tragedy of Chloe's story. She had an incredibly bright future, she could have done so much, been whatever she wanted to be. She was probably going to be the first person in her family to go to college in the first place, but all it took was one senseless tragedy to take away that opportunity. Not that she had many opportunities to start with.

So yeah, it depends on where you want Chloe to be at in your backstory and when you're writing her, There's no real hard and fast rule of "Chloe must be this", but rather what makes sense for Chloe to be doing given the world you're crafting. Chloe is highly adaptable and sometimes too smart for her own good, have fun with it.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Bring It On Home

Summary: After one of her regular customers catches her boss stealing her tips, the reader gets a job from Jensen. She figures he’s just being a nice guy but after a run in with a stranger they both learn exactly what they really are to one another...

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader

Word Count: 10,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of death/drug use/smut/scary situations, fluff

A/N: Felt like putting a little spin on this one! Enjoy!

______

“Mr. Ackles,” you smirked as he wandered up to the counter with a big smile. “I thought you told me not to sell you anymore donuts. I thought you were slimming down for your next role.”

“Oh, I never said such a thing,” he smirked. “You got any of those maple cinnamon creme filled ones left?”

“Looks like we got one left,” you said. He set his starbucks cup and sunglasses down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a butterscotch for De and a dozen of the minis for the kiddos,” he said.

“Anything in particular?” you asked as you started to put together his order.

“Surprise me,” he said.

“I’ll go with glazed and chocolate to be safe,” you said. You set the bag and box down, ringing him up. “Oh and I gotta say, I really liked the new album. You guys were really good.”

“Well thank you very much, Y/N,” he smiled. He stuffed a big tip in the jar like he always did and you gave him a look. “Oh I know you saved that donut for me. Don’t pretend.”

“The fact you come in here every single Thursday at 10:07 in the morning when you’re not working and order the same donut every single time? Oh I don’t know who thought to do that,” you said. 

“Mhm. See ya next week, kid,” he said as he headed out.

“Bye, Mr. Ackles,” you said. You saw your manager give you a side eye and you pouted.

“I thought I told you to stop bothering him,” she said.

“He’s nice. It’s a small place. He comes in every week,” you said. She took the money out of the tip jar and shoved it in her pockets. You sighed and heard the door open again, Jensen shaking his head.

“Sorry, left my sunglasses,” he said. He picked them up and paused, staring at the jar. “I just put twenty dollars in there.”

You looked at your manager and she pretended to have to go sign for something. You wiped down the counter and saw him still standing there.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked. You straightened up and his lip was pursed. 

“Does your boss take your tips?” he asked.

“We pool tips here, Mr. Ackles. You know that,” you said.

“Yeah but you make minimum wage. She doesn’t. Does your boss take a cut of the tips?” he asked. You didn’t say anything but apparently you did. He grumbled and pulled out a twenty, sliding it across the counter. “That’s yours, not hers. While I’m at it, I’m gonna say what I’ve been thinking for like, the entire time you’ve waited on me and just go to school. You are way too smart to be working a job like this the rest of your life.”

“Mr. Ackles you don’t-”

“You don’t ring people up. You do the math in your head. You always give me a total before it pops up on the screen. You got a brain. Use it for something better than this, kid,” he said. 

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to do that,” you said. 

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty two,” you said.

“You got a car?” he asked.

“Yeah?” you said.

“Congratulations. You’re the newest bartender at my brewery. Starts at fifteen bucks an hour,” he said.

“Is that in the morning?” you asked. 

“It’s probably evenings, afternoons. Why?” he asked. 

“I have another job,” you said. “I can’t work later than noon.”

“You can work in the brewery in the morning then. We got a deal?” he asked. You nodded and he pulled a card out of his wallet. “Call me when you’re done with work today and we’ll get you set up, okay?”

“Thank you. This is gonna help so much,” you said. He smiled and nodded. 

“Just hang in there for now. It’ll get better.”

Three Weeks Later

“Good morning,” you heard as you dropped a sack on the floor. You were panting and sweaty, Jensen smiling as he saw you. “Whoa, what are you doing moving those by yourself.”

“My boss said they need to get moved. I was getting started without him was all,” you said.

“Okay your boss is my business partner so I’m like your boss too and no we do not move seventy pound bags by ourselves, understand?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your hand over your face. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “It’s just a bag on the floor.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to screw this up,” you said. “I really need the money.”

“Well relax. It’s only your second week,” he said. You nodded and he squatted down, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. He walked it over to where they were being moved and tossed it down. “Come here.”

You scurried over and he crossed his arms, looking back at the pallet of raw hops and the bag by his feet.

“Figure out how to make this more efficient,” he said.

“What?”

“I didn’t hire you because I felt sorry for you and I didn’t do it because you’re stronger than the grown men here. You got a brain and I want you to use it. Figure out a way to make this process better. Tell your boss when you got something,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said.

“None of that sir shit, kid. Just Jensen, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked away, a pit forming in your stomach. You were so getting fired. You should have just sucked it up and stayed at the donut shop. You’d quit there and your pizza shop job went away when they closed up last week. You knew you could squeak by until you found another part time job. “Jensen?”

He spun around halfway across the room and you swallowed.

“I’m available in the evenings now. I can bartend too if you still need that,” you said.

“I can give you two shifts a week. Same pay. That work?” he asked.

“Yes that’s great,” you said.

“Good. Figure out the bags, Y/N,” he said before he went off. You felt a little better at least. You stared at the bags and pallet, trying to figure out the best way to get the bags over with all of the equipment in the way.

One Hour Later

“So you figured it out,” said Jensen with a knowing smile after you’d told him about your idea to use the forklift to drive around outside and then back in through the other smaller door to bring the bags over to the other side of the equipment. “Took a little longer than I was expecting.”

You frowned and he chuckled.

“Relax. It was a test,” he said.

“A test?” you said and he hummed. “For what?”

“I think your talents would be better suited for stocking management at the moment. You’re gonna track orders as they come in, manage storage, help the workflow stay on track. Sound good?” he asked.

“Yes. Definitely,” you said.

“People are around to help but I think you’ll do just fine,” he said. “I gotta run. Don’t forget to take a lunch break at some point.”

“Jensen. Thanks for the job. Really,” you said.

“You go to college and then you can thank me,” he said. “See you around, kid.”

One Month Later

“Mmm,” you hummed at the end of your shift tending bar. You were sipping on a can of beer and eating a slice of pizza on the quiet patio, a few people finishing up with their drinks before the place closed up for the night.

“Excuse me,” said an older man, probably in his fifties. You stopped mid-chew and he put on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. You just look a lot like someone I know. Well I didn’t know her but…”

“Howdy,” said Jensen as he wandered out from the taproom. It wasn’t lost on anyone how he put himself between you and the man. “Enjoying your night sir?”

“Yes. I was just chatting to the young lady here. I thought I knew her from somewhere…” he trailed off. Jensen looked back at you and you swallowed down the pizza in your mouth.

“She must have one of those faces,” he said. “We’re closing up for the night soon sir.”

“I’m not trying to bother her,” he said.

“I know you’re not,” said Jensen. The man didn’t leave though and he stiffened up. “Sir. The young lady doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t know you. Please return to your table.”

“I do know her though,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” you said. 

“Y/N, go inside,” said Jensen. 

“Okay, this is a very awkward situation. But I need to talk to her in private,” said the man. Jensen chuckled but you heard the dark edge to it.

“I need you to leave,” said Jensen.

“I’m a cop.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Easter bunny. You are making my employee uncomfortable,” said Jensen. The man stared at him and then you. Jensen grabbed your arm and started walking inside with you when the man grabbed your hand. “Get your fucking hands off-”

“Y/N, I know your mom,” he said. Jensen kept pulling on you but you shook him off.

“You’re a cop?” you asked as he nodded.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you,” he said.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jensen.

“Y/N, sweetie, we need to call up the Dallas police department right now. There are things you need to know.”

“Things like what?”

Four Hours Later

“Hey kid,” said Jensen as you sat at a conference table in a police station. You stared blankly at the shut file, Jensen setting a candy bar down in front of you. “Didn’t know if you were a chocolate kinda chick.”

“Thank you Jensen,” you said quietly. You didn’t touch it and he bumped your arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Thank you for coming with me to the station and staying. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah well no offense but I was serious about what I said. I wasn’t leaving you alone with some random dude,” he said. “Eat something.”

“I thought I had shitty parents before,” you laughed. “Turns out they fucking killed my mom and took her toddler and pretended I was theirs. What the fuck.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know how you remotely feel right now,” he said. “It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.”

“I know,” you said as a detective came in. 

“Y/N, this is the file we worked up on your mom,” he said. He opened a page and you saw Jensen stand out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s her mother?” he said. 

“Abigail Leandry? Yes,” said the detective. Jensen shook his head. “Mr. Ackles, what-”

“Kayla. Kayla,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles, why do you know the deceased’s middle name?” asked the detective. Jensen was practically white now and you stood up, holding onto him.

“Did you know my mom?” you asked. “Jensen, did you know her?”

“Who’s her father?” asked Jensen.

“There’s no father on record. Mr. Ackles are you-” said the detective as Jensen ran his hand over his face. “What is your relation to the victim, Mr. Ackles?”

“I had a one night stand when I was twenty years old,” he said as he looked at you. “She said her name was Kayla.”

“What?” you said. The detective looked at the both of you and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I think we need to do a paternity test as soon as possible.”

Two Hours Later

“I…” started Jensen for the fifth time as you sat in his passenger seat. You stared at the dashboard, Jensen opening his mouth again. “Y/N...if I knew…”

“I know,” you said. “Can you drive me back to my car now. I want to go home. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s after midnight. Why don’t I drop you off and we can swing by to get your car in the morning,” he said.

“Whatever.” You rested your head on the glass and shut your eyes. He started the truck but it didn’t move.

“We used protection. I wasn’t…” he said.

“It’s not a guarantee. Dude, you’re my dad. Whatever. Just take me home. Please,” you said.

“Where do you live,” he asked quietly. You gave him the address and twenty minutes later you were outside of your apartment, Jensen looking around. You put a hand on the door and he sighed. “Wait.”

“Jensen, I’m tired.”

“I know. I’m about to have a very fun time telling my wife about this. I just...this is not a safe neighborhood for a young woman to live alone in,” he said. “There’s stabbings and shootings around here all the time.”

“I grew up with methhead parents. That was kind of par for the course,” you said. 

“I’m a stranger. I understand. Would you consider…” he said and you opened the door.

“I’m fine, Jensen. Go home. You have a long night still,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said. You hummed and he leaned over. “Wait. Can I have your number?”

You gave him your phone and he put yours in his before putting his in yours and handing it back.

“Hey,” he said as you started to head inside. You groaned and turned around. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Goodnight, Jensen,” you said. You went inside your unit before he could say anything else and locked the door shut. You wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, nothing in there but a six pack of beer from the brewery. You shook your head and looked in the cabinet, half a bottle of vodka still there. You took it out and poured yourself a glass, wincing as you drank it down.

Maybe you’d be lucky enough to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a nightmare.

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you started work the next morning. You saw Danneel talking with her brother across the room, both of them glancing at you. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and he wandered out back to the employee area, taking a seat at a picnic table. You sat across from him, Jensen bouncing his leg like crazy.

“I thought I should at least tell you...I met Kayla at a club when I was twenty. I was home visiting family and went out with some friends. She was from Houston. We talked, flirted a bit, she was...forward with what she was interested in and being young and stupid like I was, I felt as though I should have at least one one-night stand in my life. I wasn’t...comfortable with it at first but it happened. We used protection and I left and I never really thought of her ever again. Until now obviously.”

“What’s your point, Jensen?” you asked. He bit his bottom lip and stilled his leg.

“We both learned some things last night. We know your mom got involved with drugs. We know that’s why she was killed. The people that raised you probably did it. She has no family left. The people that took you weren’t good and they’re dead and you have no family out there, anywhere. I know you were in a group home when you were sixteen after they died. I know you bounced around a bit and wound up in foster care until you aged out last year. I know your home isn’t safe and your car is older than you.”

“Jensen.”

“I’d like the chance to give you a real dad. I’d like to be there for you the way I should have always been. De and I both do. We can give you everything you need or want,” he said. 

“I understand,” you said. He smiled and you rolled your eyes. “This would look horrible for you if it got out that you have some stray, wouldn’t it. Your grand idea is to pay me off?”

“What?” he asked and you stood up. “Y/N, that’s not-”

“I did just fine my whole life without a real dad. I don’t need one now,” you said. You headed back towards the entrance and he caught up to you grabbing your shoulder.

“Stop. Wait a second. I-” he said as you spun around.

“Leave me alone. I shouldn’t even exist. I will do just fine without you like I always have.” You started walking again and headed to your car, sliding behind the wheel before you knew it. You drove home and sat in your apartment, expecting a call that you’d been fired.

Five minutes after being home you heard a car pull up out front. The doorbell rang and you ignored it. A text came in on your phone which you also promptly ignored.

“Y/N. It’s Jensen,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Kid, I...we don’t gotta be the fucking Brady Bunch. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me try. I’ll do all the work, I swear. I just...I just gotta know you’re okay. I know you’re not. This is so fucked up. You should have had a better life. You should have had me. I would have stopped you from living through all the shit you have. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

You stared at the door and pursed your lips.

“I want to know my daughter. I want to be part of her life. I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said. “Let me give you what you deserve.”

You walked over and slowly opened the door, Jensen wearing a worried smile.

“I’m not calling you dad.”

“You don’t have to,” he chuckled. “Can I come in?”

You swung the door open wider and he stepped past you, pausing in the hall as you closed up behind him.

“You live here?” he asked.

“No, I stay here for shits and giggles. Yes I live here,” you said. He stepped past the kitchen and into your family room where you took a seat on the old couch, Jensen spinning around. “Yeah, it’s shitty. I get it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s in violation of health codes,” he said. He took a seat on the couch and made a face. “Can I push my luck and convince you to move out of here?”

“I don’t need charity, Jensen. You’ve given me enough already,” you said. 

“Parents put a roof over their kids' heads. I’m a few years late so sue me but we gotta get you somewhere better than this,” he said.

“I drink. I swear. I walk around in my underwear and I have adult friends sleepover so there’s no way in hell I’m moving in with you.”

“I have a guest house,” he said. “It’s private. You’re not a child and I’ll do my best to not treat you like one. But it’s safe and nice and you can have your own space...just forty feet from where I live is all.”

You crossed your arms and he put on a pair of sad eyes.

“You’re milking it a bit don’t you think,” you said.

“I’m not acting,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I’ll give you money for food and gas and pay for the rest if you don’t want to talk to me. Just give me this. Let me get you out of this shithole.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“I didn’t say I was going to save you. I want to protect you. There’s a difference.”

He set a hand on his leg, turning it palm up. You watched it and after a moment set your hand in his.

“Don’t fuck me over,” you said.

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Why don’t we run to the store to get some boxes and we can pack up your stuff?”

An hour later you were following Jensen in your car down the driveway of a very nice house. You parked behind him and got out, staring at it and the yard and turning your head to see the multiple cars in his garage.

“Y/N,” said Jensen. He was standing closer, giving you a smile. “We can move the boxes in a minute. Why don’t I show you the guest house first?”

“Okay,” you said. You followed him around a path that went behind the garage, a two story building back there.

“It’s only one bedroom. But it’s got it’s own office on the first floor,” he said. “It’s not that big. You can always stay in the house with the rest of us if you change your mind but I understand wanting your privacy.”

He unlocked the door and you stepped inside, Jensen mentioning something about dust but you were still floored by how nice it was. The kitchen was beautiful and open to the family room. The large wood dining table sat in a cute breakfast nook. There was a fireplace and big windows with a staircase in the back heading up to a second floor.

“...I know it’s a bit plain,” he said and you turned your head, Jensen smiling back at him. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you.”

“This is too nice. Jensen this is way too nice. I gotta pay you rent for-” you said but he shook his head. “Jensen.”

“I have some contingencies for you staying here. You follow those and I’ll pay for this place and your food and gas. Okay?” he asked.

“What are they?” you asked.

“No big parties. You want to have something small that’s fine but no big blowouts,” he said.

“Do I look like I have a lot of friends?” you asked. 

“I want you to go to school. You can keep your job at the brewery but you’re gonna go to school. I will pay for it but I want you to have an education.”

You pursed your lips but nodded.

“I’m getting you a new car, one much safer. Lastly, if you see the kids, please try not to swear in front of them. They’re young and we do our best to not do that around them,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “Don’t expect me to start having big family dinners or that kind of thing.”

“I understand. I’ll move the boxes and um, maybe you can make up a list of things you need for me to get at the store.”

“I have everything I need in the boxes,” you said.

“You have one pan and like three plates,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked. 

“Y/N, that’s not normal.”

“You realize this isn’t normal right?” you said as you looked around. 

“If you change your mind...I’m gonna get your things, let you unpack,” he said. He left and ten minutes later you had four boxes by the door, Jensen excusing himself away. You unpacked your kitchen items, knowing he might have had a point. But he was buying absolutely everything for you and it was a little ridiculous. 

You took your bag of clothes upstairs, swallowing when you saw the bedroom and bathroom up there. It was like it was out of a magazine. There was even a small balcony off the room. You stepped out and looked around at a yard and saw a pool off in the distance. 

There was no way in Hell you belonged in a place like that.

That Evening

You were cooking dinner for yourself with the over abundance of groceries Jensen had left at the door earlier when you heard a knock. You moved the pan off the heat and opened up, Jensen standing there with a smile.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“We’re about to have dinner if you’d like to join us,” he said. 

“You said I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”

“I know. I just wanted to offer. It’s your first...are you cooking?” he asked as he saw into the kitchen.

“Yes. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” you said. 

“I literally just gave you some extra pantry staples for the night before I can run to the store in the morning. You’re making dinner out of that stuff?” he asked.

“Yes?” you said. “You gave me pasta and olive oil. I will survive for the night.”

“You’re making pasta in a pan?” he asked.

“Yes. You put water in the pan and put in some pasta. It’s like magic,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said. You shut the door on him and went back to the stove. You stared at the messy pan and turned the stove off. You sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.

He had never, never been anything but nice to you when you were a complete stranger. Of course he was going to go overboard since he found out you were his kid. You were being bitchy for no reason and he was still being nice.

There was a knock at the door but you saw him walk past the window. You got up and opened the door, a large pot sitting on the small bench by the door. He was halfway across the grass and you swallowed.

“Jensen?” you called out. He spun around and smiled.

“Keep it,” he said.

“What...what are you having? For dinner?”

“Pork roast with mashed sweet potatoes and roasted veggies. S’pretty good,” he said. “We got ice cream for dessert.”

You bit your bottom lip and he walked over to you, frowning as he stared down.

“I don’t blame you for not having much faith in people or being cautious of me. I really don’t. But I am your dad and you are my daughter. To you that means nothing. I understand. But you’re one of the most important things in my life now. It can be one sided if you want that. It can be that simple if you want that. Like I said, you can ignore me the rest of my life if you want and I would never blame you. But I can give you more than a place to stay and money. There’s shit a lot more important than those things. You can have it if you want it. Just come on inside if you decide you do.”

You crossed your arms and looked down. He didn’t leave yet and you took a few deep breaths.

“I’ve never really trusted anyone before,” you said. “I’m not...I do want a family, Jensen. I do. But my life isn’t like this. I dropped out of high school and got a GED. I have hookups most nights. I’m probably going to get pregnant, marry the guy, have another kid, get divorced, live in a small old apartment while working two jobs and that’s my life. That’s gonna be life, Jensen. I’ve known that’s gonna be my life since I was a kid. I don’t have goals or dreams. I’m just here because you feel guilty and I can take advantage of that right now. I’m gonna push back and push back until you throw me out or I leave because I’m not gonna trust you. I’m never going to trust you, Jensen. You don’t have to feel bad about this situation. You don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’m not supposed to even be here. I think it’s better if you just gave me some money and I’ll leave and you never have to think about me ever again.”

“I’m gonna think about you everyday for the rest of my life,” he said. “You deserve a better life than what you described. You deserve a good job and to fall in love and have children because you want to. I want you, Y/N not out of guilt. I only feel guilty I wasn’t there for you. I want you because you’re my daughter and I love you. It’s all there is to it.”

You sighed and heard thunder in the distance. 

“You can stay in the house. You can live with us. We’d love it if you did,” he said. You looked back at the guest house. For the first time you noticed the bags of concrete stacked up on the side. 

“You were gonna tear it down, weren’t you,” you said.

“We didn’t need it. It was gonna be an extra garage space. But that’s-”

“Will I have my own room?” you asked quietly. “In the house.”

“Yes. Your own room, bathroom, big closet. Your own part of the house.”

“...How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you asked.

“You don’t. Have dinner with us. Talk to your siblings. Maybe they can give you some insight,” he said. You walked past him as a light rain came down, Jensen showing you in the back door and up a set of stairs. There were a pair of toddlers at a table, an older girl in the kitchen with Danneel as they dished up some plates. “Y/N’s going to join us.”

“That’s great,” said Danneel as she handed the girl a plate. “JJ, would you give that to Y/N and get her some silverware?”

“Sure,” she said. She walked over to you and you took the plate. “Are you mom and dad’s friend?”

“She’s your sister,” said Jensen as he helped in the kitchen. He put down a glass at an empty chair and you took a seat, JJ returning quickly with a fork and knife.

“You’re kinda old,” she said as she set them down.

“You’re kinda short,” you said.

“Am not,” she said as she went to her seat.

“Yeah you are,” said the littlest girl. Jensen had brought her in to get donuts a few times and you saw her recognize you. “Hi!”

“Hi Arrow,” you said with a smile.

“JJ, Arrow, Zepp,” said Jensen as he leaned over the back of her chair and poured a glass of water for you from the carafe. “This is Y/N and she’s gonna be around quite a bit more we hope.”

“Okay. Who’s your favorite princess?” asked Arrow. 

“Hm. That’s a tough one. I don’t know if she qualifies as a princess but I always liked Rapunzel,” you said as Jensen and Danneel carried over their plates. “Who’s your favorite?”

An hour later you were still discussing Disney characters with the kids, Jensen scooping up the twins under each arm.

“Daddy,” groaned Zeppelin as he was spun upside down. “We were playing.”

“You two and your sister need baths, stinkers, and then a bedtime story. How’s that sound?” he asked.

“Can Y/N read it?” he asked as he looked at you. 

“Sure,” you said.

“Yay!” he said.

“We’ll be about half an hour with these guys. If you want to come up I can show you your space,” said Jensen. You nodded and followed them all upstairs. Danneel went off with JJ down a hall, Jensen nodding towards one end. “That’s me and De over there. Kids are down that hall and the guest suite and loft is to the right.”

“Thanks,” you said. You wandered down the hall and found a large open space with a couch and TV, more of an adult hang out space from the looks of it. There was a door nearby and you opened it, walking into a large bedroom with a canopy bed. “Holy shit.”

It was nicer than the guest house and you walked around, stepping into a beautiful on suite bathroom with double vanities, a separate shower and a giant ass tub. The walk in closet was huge and you were absolutely in love with the wide window bench and bookcases.

“Hey,” said Jensen behind you. You spun around and saw him sporting a partially wet shirt. “You like it?”

“It’s warm,” you said. 

“Well feel free to move some clothes and stuff in for the night. There’s a few raincoats in the front hall closet downstairs. I gotta try and get these three washed before the storm hits,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” you said. He smiled and started to leave when you took a step forward. “Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about before, how I acted and what I said. No one’s ever taken care of me and not wanted something in return,” you said. 

“Apology accepted. All I will ever want is you to be happy. We’ll get there eventually,” he said. He left and after exploring the room for a few more minutes, you took a raincoat from the front closet and went outside, packing up most of your things and bringing them up to your new room. You’d just set a box down when a toddler in a pair up pull ups ran into your room.

“Y/N, can I have a story now?” asked Zeppelin. 

“Zepp...Zeppy…” you heard Jensen call from somewhere else. 

“You wanna show me your room and then I can tell you a story?” you asked. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out, Jensen sighing as he found you in the hall. “I got him.”

“Well someone needs his pajamas on,” said Jensen. Zeppelin grumbled but he did tug on his shirt at least once you were in his room. Jensen tugged his pants on and Zeppelin rushed over to his bookcase, picking out one and handing it to you. He crawled up in bed and you sat on the stool nearby, reading and showing him the pages for about ten minutes before you watched him close his eyes and huff quietly.

“Night, little guy,” you said. You put the book on his nightstand and set the stool back. Jensen smiled and flicked the light off by the door, a nightlight keeping the space dimly lit. He shut the door and you were quiet as you saw Danneel duck out of a room. He nodded and you followed the two of them to the loft area, taking a seat on the end of the couch as he settled into a chair, Danneel sitting close by.

“I think Zepp’s a fan,” she said with a smile. “I think they all are.”

“Kids don’t tend to be the problem in these situations,” you said. You looked at her and she nodded. “Are you...okay-”

“I would much rather have you stay in this house than out there by yourself. You’ve been on your own enough,” she said. 

“What was your reaction?” you asked as you quickly glanced to Jensen.

“A bit of shock. But I saw the test results and he has…” she said, Jensen nodding. “He mentioned once when you first started working at the brewery about feeling protective of you. We both assumed it was because you were young and on your own and trying to get by. I’ve never been quite that bad but when he first started out after he left home, things were tight for him. We understand struggling a bit. Not to the same extent as you obviously but we get it. Now with what you know, I think there was some paternal instinct coming out he didn’t quite see.”

“In my experience, parents aren’t good things. My life got better after them,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if he is.”

“All of us will,” said Jensen. “It’ll take time which will be the hard part probably but if you allow us, we can be parents to you too. We won’t make rules for you. You’re an adult and we’ll treat you like one. But we’ll treat you like our child too. De and I will probably screw that up sometimes so all I ask is that you let us slip up from time to time and hopefully this can turn out the way we hope it does.”

“Do I have to go to college?” you asked. Jensen glanced to Danneel and back at you. “I don’t have the best grades and I literally dropped out my senior year. Does a community college even take a GED?”

“I was thinking more like UT,” he said. You laughed and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re serious? I didn’t even take SATs or ACTs or…” you trailed off as you turned to Danneel who shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you scoffed. You gripped the corner of the armchair and he sighed. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” he said as he got up. He squatted down in front of you and smiled. “Don’t be scared. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. That room over there? That is your bedroom now and no one will ever kick you out of it. I don’t want you leaving until you’re ready and I think we all know you’re a long way away from that. I believe you can go to school and do anything you want to. I’ll believe for the both of us right now, okay?”

“I’m too stupid. I don’t fit in aside from with sleazy guys,” you said.

“I disagree with that,” he said. “Trust me?”

You sighed but gave him a nod. 

“I know it’s been a long day and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night but there is a bowl of ice cream downstairs with your name on it if you’re interested,” he said. 

“Maybe. I’d like to wash up,” you said. “I know today was kind of busy but I still have work in the morning right?”

“Don’t worry about work right now. We go it covered,” said Danneel. “I can show you where stuff is in your bathroom.”

You swallowed but nodded, following her back into your room and the bathroom. A part of you was expecting her to say something about wanting you gone. After all you technically weren’t hers. You were barely Jensen’s. 

“There’s a bunch of stuff like soap and shampoo and that kind of stuff in here,” she said, opening up a tall cabinet door. “Towels are up top. There’s not a hair dryer in here but I can just drop mine off outside on your bed if you want?”

“Air dry is fine,” you said quietly.

“Honestly I do the same most of the time,” she said. “There are some pads and tampons under the sink but I gotta run to a few stores in the morning anyways so maybe you can come with and we can get whatever brand you like.”

“I don’t…” you said as she cocked her head. “I get all my supplies from a free clinic. I can’t...I couldn’t afford that brand name stuff before.”

“Oh,” she said. She made a strange face and shook her head. “Well we can try them out until we find one you like.”

“Okay,” you said. 

“If you need anything just let me know,” she said. She walked past you but you heard her pause in the doorway. “Y/N a bit of advice.”

You turned around and waited for her to drop the nice act. 

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from sleazy guys. They just want sex. They don’t care about you.”

“I know that.”

“Then do me a favor and the next time you spend the night with a guy, do it cause you feel a connection with him. There’s a difference.”

“I get that too.”

“Then why sleep around?”

“Because I’ll take a fake connection over no connection.”

“You don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “Jensen and I spend a lot of time apart.”

“What is your point?” you sighed.

“Don’t fuck random guys cause you’re lonely. You might not realize this yet but you’re never gonna be alone ever again. Get used to us cause you’re fucking ours and we want better for you than a random fuck. You got that?”

“You don’t talk to me the way Jensen does,” you said quietly.

“Because he’s in pain right now and he is so scared of setting you off. I on the other hand know what it’s like to be a young woman. I won’t tell you not to have your fun. But have it with somebody special. Good guys do exist. Good dads exist. He’s not gonna hurt you. You said you’d try out there so please try.”

“Do you wish I would go?”

“I wish someday you realize what a silly question that is to be asking,” she said. “I might barely be old enough to be your mother but you didn’t just get a dad with this. You have him and you have me and three half-siblings and a whole shitload of other people. So the next time you’re lonely, you come to one of us and maybe the next guy you sleep with you can do it cause he’s a good guy. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. She nodded and started to leave when you cleared your throat. “Danneel?”

“Yeah?” she asked as she turned around.

“Where do you meet nice guys? I haven’t had much luck,” you said. 

“You’re young. Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said as some thunder shook the house. “Wash up at the sink. Jensen gets a wee paranoid about showers in thunderstorms.”

“I’m the same way,” you said.

“You two must be related or something,” she smirked.

“Seriously,” you said.

“Aw, you got his bitch face too,” she laughed. “Come down when you’re ready. We’ll save you some ice cream.”

“Thanks,” you said. She shut the bedroom door after herself and you took out a few things from the cabinet along with what you’d brought along. Fifteen minutes later your face was washed and you’d changed into pajamas, a pair of old sweatpants and a free shirt you’d gotten from the brewery. You threw your hair up in a bun and took a deep breath. 

You wandered out of the room and down the hall, getting mixed up for a moment before you found the stairs down. Danneel was sitting on the countertop with a bowl in her hand, Jensen busy decorating his own with crumbled up cookies.

“Hey,” he said. He slid the bowl across the counter and stuck a spoon in it. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Mhm,” you said. You scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, tilting your head. “Is that...whiskey?”

“Just a smidge. That, vanilla ice cream and some cookies on top? So good,” he said as he started to make himself a bowl. “We were away once back in De’s neck of the woods and had it at dinner once. Obviously my version is superior…” he said as he got a whack from Danneel. “It’s a pretty good knock off.”

“Jensen always manages to pick out the best desserts. Meanwhile I always pick the weird ones,” she laughed.

“Oh next time we’re in New York we gotta take her to that hole in the wall place,” said Jensen. 

“New York City?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. You sat up on the counter across from Danneel and sucked on your spoon, Jensen taking a spot near you when he’d finished. “How’d you end up down here. You were in Dallas up until last year weren’t you.”

“Yeah. A couple friends were gonna move down here so I went with them. I thought a new place might be good for me. They turned out to not be great friends so I wound up in an assisted place,” you said.

“Well I’m glad you came,” he said. “You been a lot of places yet?”

“Not really,” you said.

“You ever been to Franklin’s?” asked Danneel. “The barbecue place?”

“I’ve never been out to eat,” you said.

“Ever?” she asked.

“Sometimes we’d sit in McDonald’s,” you said.

“Well we’re definitely going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Jensen. “We can get whatever you like.”

“That sounds good,” you said. You took a few more bites and watched the lights flicker. 

“Uh oh,” he said just as the power went out. You stilled as he slid off the counter in the dark. They both moved around as you sat still, a lamp turning on nearby. You jumped and Jensen chuckled. “Ah, there we go. That’s…”

You jumped off the counter when he ran a hand over your head.

“It’s-“

“I don’t like the dark,” you said. You set the bowl down and started to walk around, bumping into him and then Danneel. “I don’t…”

You stepped over to the lamp on the table, taking a seat and a few deep breaths.

“Jay.”

Jensen went off into another part of the house, returning with two more camping lamps. He turned them on and the room got brighter.

“There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” asked Jensen. Danneel brought over your ice cream and you took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just don’t like the dark,” you said. You squeezed your leg and relaxed, Jensen wandering off, returning with a flashlight. He sat it next to you as you picked up your spoon and began eating again. There was a flutter of feet upstairs for a moment and you heard a whimper come from the top of the steps. Danneel got up and went over to the bottom, looking up with a frown.

“How about you sleep in your sister’s room tonight?” she asked as she went up. You finished with your bowl, Jensen leaning back in his chair.

“He’s scared of the dark too,” said Jensen. 

“I’m not scared. I said I don’t like it.”

“Alright. It’s not an interrogation,” he said. He ate from his bowl, keeping a side eye on you. “You know we have a security system and protection here.”

“You’re rich, of course you do,” you said. You stared down to an empty hall and he grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it down there. You rolled your eyes and sat back. Jensen set the extra cookies on the table, adding more to his ice cream as you stared down the dark hall again. 

“Y/N. There’s nobody here,” he said. 

“I know that,” you said. 

“It’s okay to be scared of the dark you know.” He popped a cookie in his mouth and you gave him a glare. Thunder cracked and you jumped in your seat. He moved over to the chair next you and you shut your eyes. “Can I give you a hug?”

“What?”

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” he asked.

“No,” you said. 

“Okay.” You got up and flinched when it thundered again. You started to wander around the kitchen, Jensen watching you like a hawk. You found a seat at the counter and stared down the hall, pouting when you heard him get up. “Don’t kick my ass for this.”

“Kick your ass for what?” you said just as he stopped by your seat and wrapped his arms around you. You took a deep breath and he turned you so you weren’t facing the hall. You looked up at him and he smiled.

“Come on,” he said. He pulled you out of your seat and walked over to the couch with an arm around you. You sat down next to him, Jensen pulling a blanket draped over the back onto you.

“Don’t…” you said when he hugged you again. He leaned back and you took a deep breath. He nodded and moved his arms away.

“I think I understand why you don’t like the dark,” he said. 

“I just...I don’t know you either.”

“I know but I’m your dad.”

“That doesn’t mean jackshit to me.”

“In my world it does. If you want a hug and me to sit with you while we wait for the power to come back on, that’s up to you.�� 

“Fine,” you mumbled. You turned to him and groaned. “I said fine, you can hug me.”

“I see you’re just as stubborn as I am sometimes,” he said. He moved closer and pulled you into his side. After a few minutes you relaxed, watching the lightning outside the windows. “Feelin’ better?”

“There was a drug dealer my parents owed money to once. He took me when it was storming one night as collateral. They didn’t pay him back on time but he felt sorry for me or something so he dropped me off at a fire station. I said I ran away.”

“How old were you?”

“Five, six. Somewhere around there,” you said. 

“He took you from your house?” asked Jensen.

“I mean, we never lock a door. It was a roof and four walls. I’d barely call it liveable,” you said.

“Did you tell the police?”

“Jensen,” you said, tilting your head up at him. “My parents were big druggies. We didn’t call the cops. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in our environment.”

“Have you ever…” he asked. 

“No. I mean...I’ve had a hit or two off a joint before but no, no drugs. I didn’t like the weed that much either to be honest,” you said.

“You said you drink earlier today.”

“Like a beer a night, not even.”

“Just getting to know you...and see that there must have been someone that taught you not to be that way.”

“I had a grandma. She was nice. She was normal. She tried to get custody of me a few times but my parents threatened to stop letting her see me. I guess they weren’t really my parents, were they.”

“No, not really,” he said. He ran his hand over your head and you saw Danneel come back down. She took a seat in the corner with the package of cookies and set a lamp down on the coffee table. “How’s the boy?”

“Tuckered out in lil sis’ bed,” she said. “The battery on his nightlight was dead so he woke up in the dark.”

“Well the dark can be scary. I guarantee at least two of them wind up in bed with us by the time the night’s through.”

You were quiet as they talked about plans for tomorrow, who was going to do what chores, talking amongst themselves about where to take you for dinner. Jensen nudged you and you glanced up, a smile on his face.

“You want to go shopping with De tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. You listened to the rain come down harder and breathed deeply. You tensed up when Jensen shifted but he put his hand back on your head and shushed you. “I’ve kinda always wanted to try brisket.”

“I think we’re getting barbecue for dinner then,” he said. The lights turned back on and you let out a sigh, Jensen rubbing your back as you sat up. “Go ahead and keep one of those lamps and the flashlight in your room in case it happens again.”

“Thanks,” you said as you stood. “I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow then.

“See you in the morning, Y/N.”

Six Months Later

“Jensen,” you said as you leaned back against the outdoor grill. 

“Y/N…” he said as you scooted over more towards the countertop. “Yes honey?”

“Who’s that guy, the young one,” you said as you nodded out to the yard where a few tables were set up, people standing around.

“Baby face over there is Alex. He worked on the last couple seasons of the show with me. I’ve been meaning to have him and the rest of the wacky nutjobs over for awhile now. You’re a big girl, you can say hi to my friends if you want,” he said as he flipped a burger.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking over your shoulder. You saw him talking to Jared with a beer in his hand. His head turned and he saw you, flashing you a quick smile. You returned it and heard a grunt.

“He’s six years older than you,” said Jensen as he sipped from his can.

“I literally dated a like forty year old last year.”

“Gah, why, why do you tell me things like that, I…” he trailed off when he saw you giggling to yourself. “Okay you little shit, how about this?”

“How about-”

“Hey Alex! Y/N wants to talk to you!” shouted Jensen out to the yard so just about every person there turned in your direction.

“I’m eating your brownie now,” you said. You grabbed the chocolate square off the plate nearby and popped it into your mouth as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’re making me more later, missy,” he said. He ruffled your hair and messed it up just as you caught Alex walk over.

“I am so sorry for him,” you said as you tried to fix the strands.

“You have to live with him. I feel sorry for you,” he laughed. “Alex.”

“Y/N,” you said. You took your beer and walked over towards the pool, Alex smirking to himself. “What? How bad did he mess up my hair?”

“Oh you’re perfect. It’s just nice to have someone to share the pain with,” he said. “He was really excited to find out about you you know. Like obnoxiously excited.”

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug. You turned and looked back at the grill where he was working, Danneel coming out with Arrow on her hip. “They’ve grown on me. You must be an actor then if you’re at the first annual SPN whatever he and Jared are calling this.”

“They told me free beer and I was sold,” he said. “But yeah, I act. Kinda model every once in a while but that sounds really douchey so I try not to talk about it much.”

“Legit both Jay and De did it so my shock of all things Hollywood has kind of wavered by this point,” you said. “What’s California like? Is it as hot as here?”

“Not as bad. I’m from Canada actually,” he said. “The not too cold part which is nice.”

“I would take a cold day every once in a while,” you said. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week. I was gonna roadtrip down to a place called Galveston one day. Apparently it’s a beach town on the gulf. I thought that’d be fun,” he said.

“We went last month. It was so cool. I’d never been to a beach before or seen the ocean. There’s this place with amazing chili cheese fries. You gotta try them at night when it gets a bit cooler out,” you said. “My dad knows the name. I’ll have to…”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never called Jensen dad before is all,” you said. You bit your bottom lip and Alex smiled.

“Between you and me, he’s really grateful you guys found each other. He loves you a lot. I know it’s gotta be a thousand kinds of weird but he is really, really proud of you. He brags about you all the time in the group chat.”

“Of course he does. He’s a dork.”

“Oh I one hundred percent agree with that,” he chuckled. He took a sip of his beer and tilted his head. “I know this is like super spur of the moment but would you want to like, go to the beach with me? Some of the guys were gonna come that were sticking around here but if you’re free…”

“I don’t know,” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Like I would totally hang out with you. It’s just like the adult trip, you know? It’s for you guys. Besides I was supposed to watch my siblings that day,” you said.

“Well of course you can come,” said Jensen as he popped up behind you. You flinched and he had two plates with burgers on them, handing you each one. “She loved the beach. Turned into a little kid. She made a sandcastle that-”

“Jensen,” you groaned, your face hot as he cleared his throat. 

“We’ll get a sitter. You can ride with Alex,” he said. He patted your back and walked off as you sighed.

“Oh my God,” you said. Alex just laughed as he took a bite of his burger. You knew you were blushing and prayed that he didn’t notice.

“So how’s school?” he asked.

“You see that one up there? That’s Leo,” said Alex, hours and hours later. You were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, everyone else hanging out on the other side of the house around the bonfire.

“If I ever take Astrology as an elective I’ll be sure to call you to help me study,” you said. You leaned back on your palms, Alex laughing.

“You’re the one smarter than me,” he said. 

“When I apply myself it turns out I actually am,” you said. “Mostly. A business degree isn’t very fascinating though.”

“No but it’s security which I think is really good thing for you.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like you grew up rough was all. It’s not a bad thing to have something solid to fall back on, something safe,” he said. 

“This is very true. There is a guy that runs one of the food trucks that comes to the brewery, he keeps trying to convince me to open up a restaurant with him once I get my degree.”

“Do you want to?”

“No but he’s sweet so I try to let him down gently.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“No. Don’t have one,” you said.

“Cool.”

“Was that your subtle way of seeing if I was single?” you asked.

“Seems to have worked,” he smirked. You moved closer and he did the same until you paused. “Sorry. I read this wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. I just...you’re the kind of guy that takes someone out on dates and waits and is slow and nice and...you’re a good guy, right? I can’t deal with a-”

He pecked a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. He smiled and kicked his feet in the water.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he said. You bumped his arm and he bumped yours back. “You are.”

“Loser,” you said.

“Gonna push you in the ocean for that,” he smirked. He gave your hand a squeeze and pulled his feet out of the water. “Let’s hang out by the fire. It’s getting cold over here anyways.”

“Okay,” you said gently. He pulled you to your feet and you giggled. “I don’t know why I just did that.”

“It’s alright. I like that sound,” he said. He let go of your hand as you got closer to the fire, Alex stopping with you at the table with some leftover desserts still out. “I uh, I’m not perfect...or have a degree...or am tall.”

“Don’t really give a shit about that stuff,” you said. 

“Good,” he said. You swiped some cookies for yourselves and found an empty pair of chairs together, the group getting quiet when you sat but Jensen shockingly not using the opportunity to tease you. 

“That it?” you asked as you came back inside from taking out a bag of trash a few hours later.

“Yup. Thanks for helping us clean up,” said Jensen. You stretched and headed upstairs, hearing a tut from him along the way. “He’s a good friend. Just go slow, okay?”

“I know,” you said. “Goodnight. Dad.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

___________

[magicalgirlmindcrank]

This lady sounds like she wanted to be a security guard because she thought it would be exciting and it would give her naturally nosey, incompetent ass an excuse to be up in people's shit and "catch the bad guys" even if she has to make them up. -8/10 She's an actual hazard to your job.

She's literally insane. I've met cop-wannabe Paul Blart types who are more grounded. I've never worked with anyone in the almost decade I have in security so obtuse, so incapable of learning and yet so sure of themself. Like.

You can't even remember the day changes over at midnight, do you honestly expect me to believe you know what cocaine, which is odorless in it's pure state and has several different odors depending on what it is cut with, smells like? And that you smelled it in passing, from several feet away? You thought you caught a worker driving a forklift on COCAINE and you didn't think for even one second to look at the number on the forklift or take a picture or anything? You literally were raising concerns about a "suspicious vehicle" that was an employee earlier today, which you clearly didn't even look inside of first, and I'm supposed to take your accusation of a forklift driver being on cocaine at face value???

[summocrap]

Driving Headcanons - The Berserkers

Exactly what it says on the tin

Claude - Can’t drive and never learned how. He has Snow to chauffeur him around everywhere, after all. If you put him in front of a steering wheel, he’s more likely to back into the building than get anywhere.

Snow - Can drive and does so often. Mostly drives Claude around, but he also drives other people if need be. Has a license to drive a normal car, a limo, a truck, and even a forklift. No one knows how he finds the time to get all those licenses.

Macan - You must be out of your damn mind to think this guy can get anywhere near a steering wheel. Has once went with Nomad to go get a license, neglected to tell Nomad (or anyone) that he has no experience driving, and promptly totaled the car, which Nomad got billed with.

Cthugha - You know how Spongebob does fine on test, but absolutely loses it in front of the wheel? That’s Cthugha. He once tried to get a license, but the stress of it all freaked him out, he blew up, and the driving instructor nearly died. Normally driven around by Adnvari.

Oniwaka - Can drive, but doesn’t have a license. Or well, he does have licenses, but none of them are his. He just has a bunch lying around from all the wallets he stole. Not that they’d really help him if he ever got pulled over, but he’s a reasonably good driver, so he doesn’t really get stopped.

Ikutoshi - A child.

Pollux - Can drive, but he doesn’t own a car, so he’s not that useful. A rather normal and standard driver, if not a little prone to going a little over the speeding limit. Actually enjoys driving, so he’s saving up Guild wages to get a car eventually.

Bathym - Had a car, but that got impounded when he got in trouble for speeding. Doesn’t really care, since he didn’t really drive too much, and he can always just get a ride from someone else. Which is valid enough, I suppose.

Horkeu Kamui - Does in fact have a car, and is a really good driver, but a little cautious. Keeps snacks in the glove department and willing to help others learn and chauffeur them around, whenever he’s not training in the mountains or whatever the fuck he does.

Taurus Mask - Almost old enough to get his license. Does have a learner’s permit and is practicing with Horkeu Kamui. Is reasonably good at it, but prone to freaking out on freeways.

Garmr - Currently the center of a legal case deciding on how animalistic a transient can be before they can’t get a license.

Nomad - A match for Snow in terms of how many licenses he has, but he mostly drives the motorcycle, which he on occasion gives people rides. However, if Nomad’s going to give you a ride he is going to make you order him as an Uber, unless you’re a friend or Macan.

Andvari - Can drive and is reasonably good at it. In fact, runs a driver’s ed-school alongside his countless other ventures. Most of those who learn to drive at Ikebukuro end up going through him.

[fuck-customers]

Hi so I’m an anon who sent in an ask about feeling like my job is driving me round the bend, noticed a lot of people were asking “wHy ARe YoU IN tHIs IndUSTry If YOu HaTE iT?” etc etc and wanted to clear some things up. I work in hospitality because, like an idiot, when I was just starting out looking for work it was the first thing I got into, not realising that it offers no other experience outside retail and once you’re in you’re basically fucking stuck there. As I said, I have no motivation to spend thousands upon thousands of dollars to have the chance to swap to a different career nor do I even know what I would want to do. My depression severely inhibits my ability to stay motivated enough to commit to studying even, so no help there. I have done work outside of hospo in the past, and am looking into getting out of it currently, but it’s difficult when most job listings are for customer service. Also warehouse work sounds good in theory, until most jobs require you to have experience or a forklift license (neither of which I have), and chronic back pain makes me apprehensive that the job wouldn’t completely destroy my spine. A lot of the jobs I would like to apply for require either experience or certain degrees.

As for the comments addressing my pretty violent thoughts, yes I am neurotic and traumatised clearly lol. Being the survivor of SA and both physical and mental abuse by different people for years does not exactly make one pleased to be around other people. I have developed a sort of apathy and inherent distrust of people based on instincts now. Is it healthy? No, of course it isn’t - and I never claimed it was. But I’m not literally going to jump over the counter and maim anyone, I’m in complete control of my actions and have no real intentions of causing harm - I’m not going to walk into work one day and decide “this is my villain origin story”, but I cannot help the fact that I do have dark intrusive thoughts. Everyone has them, you can either be the type of person who learns to manage and mitigate, or act upon them. What I was saying was only to vent - as is the nature of this blog, a safe space to vent. There’s a lot of other people who also describe the numerous graphic things they want to do to certain shit stain customers, I don’t see why my ask is any different to theirs. I do my job well and maintain a good attitude despite my shortcomings, otherwise I sure as fuck wouldn’t still be employed or have 6+ years experience in jobs I’ve all had long term under my belt.

Oh and to the person who was trying to act like the authority on what all people with PTSD think and experience, I’ll put it bluntly - fuck off. If a person with PTSD experiences dark thoughts or handles their trauma in a way outside what we would consider morally normal, does that suddenly make them a bad person? No it fucking doesn’t and, quite frankly, is a very ableist thing to assume of and say to a fellow survivor. Dark intrusive thoughts are very common amongst people with trauma actually. Good for you, you handle your trauma a certain way - but you are by no means the golden standard. Don’t diminish other victims for the way they react to things. If someone is having intrusive thoughts but has no intention of acting upon them and can clearly discern that they are not healthy nor should they be enacted, then cool beans. You do you. Human brain works in a myriad of strange and mysterious ways. As I already said, I came here to VENT. I get no notes from being on anon, nor did I at any point say my actions were healthy or justified, you bottom feeder. I very clearly pointed out how I knew it wasn’t healthy and that I need an out because I don’t want to keep doing this to myself anymore. I already am in therapy as I have been for years, but sometimes it’s nice to have a space to vent outside the months long gaps in sessions, thanks for not asking and just assuming I wallow in my own misery 24/7 🤪 seems like your “you problem” is assuming you have any say in how other survivors react to things based on your own “uwu trauma” and reactions. Fuck you :)

The person who clearly got I’m just here to vent and reprimanded the other comments, we cool appreciate you boo 10/10 would take your order anytime

[afinedilemma]

A Bucky fic I have no name for...

You are a super soldier that runs into the one and only, only to realize he's the one who kidnapped you for hydra. There will be discussion of war, programming/brainwashing, violence, cussing, general trauma, etc. Not too sure, yet, where I'm going to take it.

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

It was days like this that made you miss Siberia. As fucked up as it was, after all the years you spent there, you had gotten used to the snow and ice and cold. The humid heat of the American Midwest was never something you were fond of, but now it was something akin to hell. Luckily your truck had AC, so, save for the small amounts of time you had to be outside, it wasn't too bad.

Some could say you were adjusting pretty well. The government gave you a job transporting 'classified material' after giving you a pardon. You hadn't gotten to really meet any of the avengers, but, honestly, you were glad to avoid it all. You just wanted some peace and quiet, a slice of normalcy... Even if that meant hauling 'classified material' for uncle Sam. It was probably as close to normal as you were going to get as a hundred year old super soldier... Well, a hundred and three. For the most part, all you had to worry about was the open road, getting the cargo to it's destination, and what station to listen to on the radio.

Occasionally, they would stick a soldier or two with you to ensure the safety of the load when it was higher risk. It disrupted your peace, but most of them were tolerable enough. Some of them were even nice company. Some... Were not. One duo you remember well, were two friends: John and Lamar. They seemed nice, but John was one of those guys that was really superficial. The guy had something just under the surface that... Just wasn't quite right. Lamar? He seemed decent, but they were friends, which either made him complicit in whatever John had going on or was blissfully unaware. They seemed joined at the hip so you assumed the former.

What you didn't know, was that today your streak with avoiding the avengers would end. You hadn't really kept up well, hoping the world hadn't managed to keep up with you, so you had avoided even learning very much about the avengers. SO. To say it was a shock to see the man that had kidnapped you for hydra, would be an understatement.

He and the guy you were pretty sure was called 'The Falcon' were there for the delivery. You saw them at a distance so you had time to work through some of the shock and play it cool. If he was with them then he had likely been deprogrammed, so there was nothing for you to worry about. You knew he had to have been programmed when he kidnapped you, so there wasn't much point in holding a grudge. Considering you were forced to do things you wouldn't have done voluntarily through programming, you understood. Still, it was a bit unnerving being around him after all that time. Especially with that scowl on his face.

He did try to be more amicable around you. You assumed he didn't remember you, or he didn't let on that he did, and you let him. There was no point dredging up the painful past, especially since, if he was decent at all and remembered any of his past, likely had enough guilt to deal with.

"Oh my God. No way!" You closed your eyes as you stopped your unloading. Damnit. You forced yourself to relax and be friendly or, at least, appear that way. He seemed well meaning and it's not like any of it was his fault. So you turned and smiled at the falcon. "It's you! You're the Night Witch!"

"Night Witch?" The super soldier looked confused.

You tried not to cringe at the nickname and force a smile. "You can just call me Vic." You extended your hand.

The falcon shook your hand. "Sam." He grinned.

"You mean like the bombers back in the war?" More confusion.

Sam elaborated, "This is Bucky." He gestured towards his partner.

"James." Bucky smiled while slicking his hair back with his hand. He was wearing gloves, which made sense. You remembered him having a metal arm. He probably didn't like the stares.

"No, like she's a legend." You tried to keep your face from dropping as Sam spoke. "She basically took down a small army on her own!" He looked confused at your reaction. "You're a hero. You saved so many of our men. If we hadn't had that victory, who knows..."

"Well a lot of men also died that night and it was also the reason hydra decided to take me and turn me into a programmed super soldier." You shrugged it off with a forced smile, feeling Bucky's eyes. "But at least someone that knows about me is able to see it in a positive light." You cleared your throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness. It wasn't really something you discussed, much to your therapist's dismay, and you weren't looking to start right this moment. "I should probably go ahead and get this unloaded though."

While you were returning to unloading you heard Sam behind you. "Damn. These are heavy."

You turned to see him struggling and grinned. "You'll probably need a forklift for that, hun." Then you proceeded to lift the equipment yourself and unloaded while he watched in awe.

James' face furrowed with approval, began to help unload by hand as Sam scoffed.

"Alright, alright. I'll leave you two to it." Sam wandered off with a smirk.

You two finished unloading, but you couldn't help but notice that he had kept looking at you. Perhaps he was used to being the only super soldier; maybe he was starting to recognize you. You weren't sure.

"Thanks for helping out." You held out your hand.

He gave you a questioning look as he reached out to shake your hand. "You're proper."

"People don't have manners these days?"

"EH... How old did you say you were?" He asked as he studied you.

You smiled. "I didn't." He trailed behind you as you walked out of the trailer to close it back up. "And I'm positive that someone in your life taught you better than to ask a woman her age?"

He grinned and looked away. "You do all this by yourself? ... Drive and..." He gestured as he trailed off.

"Yeah. It wasn't really suggested when I was trying to adjust back into..." You gestured broadly. "But I honestly like the peace and quiet."

"Sounds nice." He frowned, brows furrowed. "Your therapist let you get away with this?" He gestured at your truck.

"Not really, but I was seen as a valuable asset in this setting so she didn't really get a vote." You shoved your hands in your pockets. You were glad to be talking to someone who didn't automatically write you off as soon as they found out you had a therapist. You surmised it had something to do with James having a therapist himself from the way he asked, but you decided to let it rest.

He muttered under his breath in disbelief, looking around and spotting Sam. Sam was sitting across the building drinking a soda and waving in acknowledgement.

"Well I'd better get going. Thanks again." You smiled.

"Yeah, of course. No problem." He looked at you confused again.

This whole time you were anxious about him recognizing you and you really hoped it wasn't going to happen now. You wanted to end the night with as little drama as possible and thankfully as you walked away, it seemed you would get your wish.

You sighed, content, as you hopped back in your truck to head back onto the road. It was late and the road would be empty. You could let your thoughts wander while you drove and not think about the avengers anymore... Or so you thought.

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Pomegranate

Part One

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC

Warnings: gang activity, drinkng

Summary: A retelling of the myth of Hades and Persephone with a modern mob twist.

Word Count: 4.1k

Stephanie has spent the first twenty four years of her life sht in away from the world by her worriesome mother, who refuses to let anyone hurt her daughter after her lovr abandoned them. But when Harry Styles, one of the big three Olympi ‘brothers’, stumbles upon her, he has to have her, at whatever cost

A/N: I really loved this one. It’s one of my favorites. I hope you guys enjoy it. PLEASE send me feedback, questions and asks are always appreciated. Love you all!

“What if the real story was completely different? What if it was Persephone in control and not Hades at all? What if she was bored of the flowers, discontent with her situation and wanted to make more of her life than the grass and trees could offer her?” 

-Nikita Gill

24 years ago

Demetra shook as the tears rolled down her face. Her fingers flexing on the steering wheel as she watched Zeke kiss Hellen again. Every look of fondness, every touch, was another stab to her broken heart. 

She watched them enter their home, as the door shut all the promises he had made to her falling down all around her, she placed a hand on her swelling belly, rubbing in smooth and slow circles. She hated him. She hated men. 

“I promise you little one….You will never ever feel this pain.” she narrowed her eyes as she put her car in drive. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Present Day

“Find me in the garden there, meet my eyes with lovely stare, take my heart and take my love, a wonder of my life,” Stephanie sang quietly to herself as she brushed her long black hair. Today was an important day for her and she wanted to look her best, it was the day her mother would be bringing her into the family business and teaching her how to run it. She gazed at her face in the ornate gold mirror on her vanity, studying her features, trying to gauge if she looked like a mature woman or rather a scared little girl. 

She felt like a scared little girl.

The family business was ruthless, cutthroat. And she had never been one for cruelty, she had a kind soul as her mother would say. But a kind soul could weaken the Kingdom they built, and as a woman, this high up, anyone was looking for an excuse to snatch the Kingdom keys from them. 

Stephanie had never been told exactly what it was her mother did, but she knew people feared her. Overhearing phone conversations and hiding under the table at dinner parties, she heard the way people spoke to her and the way she spoke to them. She knew what her mother did was dangerous and she knew it was a big responsibility for her, to make sure she held the Kingdom up with as much grace and cutthroat as her mother did. 

She just wasn’t sure she had it in her.

“Never trust men. Men are cruel, evil. Once they get what they want from you, they toss you aside.” her mother brushed her fingers along Stephanie’s cheek fondly. “That’s why I have to keep you hidden away. To keep you safe.”

Her mother’s words rang in her mind.

She never knew her father. Her mother never spoke of him. The only thing she knew was that he headed an organization that worked in conjunction with theirs. She didn’t know if he knew of her existence or if he and her mother ever worked directly together. Any attempts to ask about him were shut down swiftly and harshly. 

“Stephanie?” her mother’s voice rang through the door, accompanied by a light knock. Stephanie stood, smoothing down her pink and yellow sundress as Demetra opened the door. “Oh look at you.” she smiled wide, making Stephanie feel proud, Demetra locked her arm through her daughter’s, pulling her out of the room. “Are you excited today?” 

“Yeah, it’ll be nice to go out and see what you do.” Demetra was an overprotective mother. When Zeke, Stephanie’s father, went back to his wife and abandoned them, she vowed her daughter would never experience the hurt and rejection she had faced. And so, Stephanie had been homeschooled, had limited access to the outside world and people. Her friends were her books and her films. She had been hidden away. 

A guard stood outside the front door, and one stood next to a white buick with the backdoor open. Stephanie held her mother’s hand as they walked to the car. 

“Hi!” Stephanie said pleasantly, the guard only nodded, shutting the door after Demetra climbed in beside her daughter. 

“The Warehouse please.” she said to the driver. The man started the car and Stephanie looked outside with fascination. 

“I’ve never left the property before.” she said absentmindedly, Demetra only smiled, extending her hand to her daughter. 

“I know you’ve waited years for this.”

-*-*-*-

“What do you mean you can’t find him Niall? That’s your job.” Harry turned away from the boxer practicing, he was going to ring necks if someone didn’t find Hayden, and they better find him fast. 

“Look all I know is that Amelia said he was going to Demetra to drop some product off and then he’s going to Zeke. I can text Zeke-”

“No,” Harry interrupted, grabbing his coat, Alan was a winner, he would be the one to bet on in the fight so he wasn’t worried. Business before pleasure. “I’ll go to Demetra’s Warehouse, maybe catch him outside.” he ended the call after Niall said good bye. 

Harry had been apart of the Olympi Gang since he came to America. It felt like years ago he’d arrived with dreams of being a musician, but rejection after rejection left him heartbroken and destitute. That’s when he’d met Louis, another Brit from Doncaster,a sassy motherfucker who had helped him learn how to navigate the streets and do what needed to be done to survive. His initiation had been one hell of a beating, but he got that OG tattoo the very next day, busted eye lid, cracked ribs and all. The pain had been worth it. He’d moved up quickly, hustling with his good looks and charm. Zeke had said he was born for this when he finally made him one of the ‘brothers’. He was the youngest-by years. But he had  sharp tongue and a wisdom of the streets that couldn’t be matched. He couldn’t even remember why he really came here in the first place. 

But only sometimes.

Demetra’s territory was on the other side of the city. Rural area. The last place you’d expect major operations like theirs to go down. But she had a green thumb, and worked her magic in gardens, growing vegetables and fruits, grains, flowers, she single handedly fed the city with her crops, having bought out all the farming land. It was the perfect cover. 

-*-*-*-

The car pulled into the warehouse parking lot. ‘Demeter Organics’ was painted in bright red above the warehouse doors, trucks were being loaded, people were walking about here and there. Stephanie was excited and amazed, she had never seen so many people in her life. 

“Come on sweetheart,” Demetra said, touching her daughter’s arm lightly as the car door was opened. Stephanie followed her mother out, taking her hand once again as Demetra led the way into the warehouse. 

Stephanie was amazed. It was huge, large fluorescent lights hanging overhead, people standing at tables or on forklifts, lifting and loading boxes, shelves stacked high with an assortment of things. As Stephanie looked around she could see many of the people were manufacturing weapons. Demetra cleared her throat, grabbing her daughter’s attention. 

“I know this must all be overwhelming for you,” she said, walking Stephanie down between the isles of workers. No one dared look up, everyone continuing to work hard as they walked by. “I want you to know I’m not a bad person. When your father and I started this years ago...This,” she waved at the workers around them. “Is what we had to do to survive. To thrive….All of it for you.” She smiled at her daughter. “But as the years past I was able to step out on my own. To create something of great value to this city and the world.” The stopped outside another door. Demetra turned to Stephanie, taking her daughter’s hands in hers. “Are you ready?” she asked. Stephanie’s hard was pounding. 

“Im ready mom.” a guard opened the door behind them. It creaked and groaned as it moved, the warm summer breeze hitting Stephanie’s face, as sunlight shone in. 

“Welcome to the garden Stephie,” her mother pulled her outside. 

Two large greenhouses stood side by side. Men in white suits with netted hats, tended to bees just to the left of them and beyond that was fields of vegetation. Tractors pulled and people picked fresh food and flowers, working at benches to clean and package the fruit. The smell in the air, the heavy scent of flower perfumes invaded her senses. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. 

“It’s beautiful.” she whispered in awe. Demetra wrapped an arm around her, kissing the side of her head. 

“I know I’ve been difficult. But everything I’ve done was to protect you.” She let go of her. “But now I think you’re old enough. All this,” she waved a hand at the beauty around her. “It’s yours. The workers work for you. Everything but the business deals and contracts you are in control of.” She looked around in wonder. 

“Thank you momma.” she hugged her mother tightly, burying her face in her shoulder.

“Hello Ms. Demetra.” Stephanie turned her head to see an older woman with thinning white hair and wrinkles walked up to them. She shook Demetra’s hand, before turning her grey eyes to Stephanie. “You must be Stephanie. Pretty as a lily you are,” her hand felt rough and hard, she was a woman used to hard laboring.

“Hello,” Stephanie chirped with a grin. Demetra watched her daughter with fondness. 

“This is Annabeth. She’ll be working directly under you. Whenever you have a question or need something go to her.” Stephanie nodded, glancing behind her mother to see a security guard approaching. 

“Ms. Demetra, Hayden is here to see you.” Demetra let go of her daughter. 

“Alright. Set him in my office,” she touched Stephanie’s cheek gently. “Are you going to be alright?” Stephanie nodded, stepping back away from her mother. 

“I’ll be fine. I want to explore the garden if that’s alright?” Demetra chuckled.

“Of course.I’ll find you when we’re done.”

-*-*-*-

Harry pulled up at the back of the Warehouse. Whenever he came to visit Demetra, he always went through the garden entrance. Something about it felt so comforting and familiar. Maybe it had to do with his mom, he wasn’t sure, but Demetra could be a handful and he needed the walk to relax. 

Soft giggling met his ears when he shut the car door. It was a beautiful sound, like a melody.  he looked over into the sunflowers, blooming proudly and felt himself take in a sharp breath. 

The girl was like a vision. He watched as she walked through the flowers, touching them gently, with reverence, her long dark curls flowing behind her. She was barefoot, in a pink and yellow dress, it was the simplest thing, and it made his heart pound. Never had he felt that way before. 

He didn’t realize he had approached her until she gasped, startled by his appearance. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, she had beautiful dark eyes and full pouty lips that were turned down as she frowned at him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She smiled, “It’s alright.” he liked that it met her eyes, he watched her visibly relax. “Do you work here? In the garden?” he shook his head. 

“No. Actually I’m here to see Demetra.” he stepped closer, unable to keep much distance from her. There was something warm and safe about her. He wanted to be around her and feel like this always. 

“She’s talking with Hayden right now.” So he is here. That was good. Harry could see the freckles beneath her eyes, that crossed the bridge of her nose. His hand twitched, he wanted to touch her, caress her face, play with her hair. Was this what love at first sight was? He hoped so. He smiled down at her. It was small and private. Just for her. 

"What is your name?" He asked, reaching up to brush his fingers against her rosy cheek. He couldn't help it, he hadn't meant to. But there was something about her that made him weak. Weak in the knees. He would do whatever she asked, no request was to great.

"Stephanie. I'm Demetra's daughter."

"Oh?" He was surprised, "I didn't know she had a daughter." The girl blushed, looking away from him and down at her feet. She was good. So sweet.

"She kept me hidden very well." There was slight pause, he studied her features, big brown doe eyes, looking anywhere but at him, soft pink, pillowy lips, long lashes, she had the cutest little nose, golden brown skin. She was soft. He wanted nothing more than to take her home with him.

"Look at me little one." He put his finger under her chin, tilting her face to look up at him. Their eyes met once more and he watched as her body visibly relaxed at his touch. She was astounding. "You are....a masterpiece." He leaned down, nose brushing against hers. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest-

"Steph!" Harry pulled back sharply as she whipped her head around. Hayden was making his way towards them, a suspicious look on his face.

"Hayden," Stephanie's cheeks were full on red with embarrassment now, hands clasped behind her back. Hayden put a protective arm around her shoulder.

"Your mother asked me to take you to Hollyn. We've been looking for you." He turned his eyes to Harry, stood expressionless. "Harry."

"Hayden....please come see me after you're done here with Demetra. I have some packages for you." His expression changed when he looked back as Stephanie, it softened. "It was lovely to meet you my dear." She smiled. It was breath taking.

"Likewise Mr. Styles." Hayden steered her away, back into the large warehouse, once out of earshot, he gripped her arm.

"You listen to me Stephie. You stay away from him. Understand?"

"But he was so nice. He was kind. Why?"

"Just remember your mother's teachings. And stay away from that man."

Harry called Zeke as soon as he got into his car.

"What?" Zeke's tone was annoyed, Harry heard the whimpering of some poor fool in the background.

"Did you know Demetra had a daughter?" He asked, he heard the sound of bones cracking and a scream of agony.

"Yes. She's my daughter. What of it?" Harry felt his blood run cold. It had taken him years as an affiliate to gain the position he had now, as one of the kingpins of this organization, but he still worked under Zeke. He would have to be careful.

"Nothing I just....I was surprised is all." He finally said, chewing his bottom lip nervously.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" Zeke asked, a fondness Harry had never heard in his tone before.

"Yeah. She really is."

"Harry? Do you like where you are? Your position in my family?"

"Yes. I'm grateful for it. I worked hard you know that."

"I do." Zeke hummed. "So let me give you some advice. You want to last long with us, you stay away from my daughter."

-*-*-*-

The ride to Hollyn’s house was quiet.” Stephanie thought about what Hayden had said. He didn’t press the issue and when they said good bye to her mother he didn’t mention their encounter with Harry Styles. So she kept silent, hand on her chin, gazing out the window and soaking in the new sights all around her. 

Hollyn lived in a little cottage in a neat suburban area. There was a lake and forest behind her house. When Stephanie was little she would bring trinkets and spells for her that she made herself. And pictures of the cottage so she could picture it in her mind. She was a self proclaimed witch and healer but was also Stephanie’s God mother and dearest friend. 

“We’re here.” Hayden said. He pulled up beside the cottage. It was cobblestoned, ivy climbing high up the side, the terrace wrapped in blood red roses, shrubs covered the front yard, a willow tree hanging over the roof. And fairy lights, leading all the way up to the house. 

“Wow.” Stephanie whispered, going to unbuckle her seatbelt. 

“Stephi.” Hayden put his hand over hers, she looked up into his hazel eyes. “You know...I’ve known you for years...what I said about Harry...I just want to keep you safe.” Stephanie leaned forward, kissing his cheek lightly. 

“I know Hayden. My mom couldn’t have gotten on without you. I love you too.” With that she hopped out of the car, bounding up the steps to her Godmother’s house.

-*-*-*-

“Did you know Demetra had a daughter?” Harry asked Niall. They sat in his living room, watching football, Niall shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. 

“I mean, doesn’t everyone in this bloody gang have kids?” Harry rolled his eyes. 

“I’m serious.” He couldn’t get her out of his head. “Nobody even knew. How fucking crazy is that? She kept her hidden.”

“Not to be an ass but why do you care so much?”

“I don’t.” Harry defended, he could feel himself blushing, Niall giving him a knowing smile. He licked his lips. “She’s Zeke’s daughter.” Niall raised his eyebrows at that. 

“My advice as your friend then...stay the hell away from her H. That can and will only bring trouble.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Harry snorted. “I just wondered if you knew.” They watched the rest of the game quietly, only commenting on it here and there. When it was over Niall stood up to leave. 

“You doin’ the ball thing tonight?” Harry rolled his eyes. Of course he was. He was one of the Big Three. Any major event he would be in attendance. “You bringing Marlene with you?” Marlene. The girl he fucked on the regular. Not his girlfriend, but familiar enough she usually went with him to events like the Ball.

“Of course.” Harry said. Niall gave him a cheeky grin. 

“Just checking.” 

Alone with himself Harry’s thoughts went back to Stephanie. The way his stomach flipped when he pictured her face made his hands twitch. Why did he have to want the one person he could never have.

-*-*-*-

 “Welcome home Stephi.” Hollyn said, embracing her Goddaughter gently. Stephanie held onto her, breathing in the familiar smells of Frankincense and lavender. She felt like she was home. 

Hollyn was older, around Demetra’s age. Her hair was jet black, tight curls that ran down her between her shoulder blades, and was always frizzy. Never one for makeup, her skin was smooth and soft, albeit there were some crows feet around her brown eyes. She always wore tank tops and long flowing skirts, gems dangled off her body. She was the most magical person Stephanie knew. 

The house smelled of patchouli and sage. Plants grew and hung all over the place. Stephanie felt an odd calmness fall over her as Hollyn led her to the living room. She took the Laz-boy, while Hollyn sat on the couch. 

“So how are you? Today was your first day off the grounds.” Hollyn smiled. She loved Demetra dearly, but felt her helicopter parenting style was harmful. It broke her heart to never be able to take Stephi anywhere. A real life Rapunzel, except her mother wasn’t evil, just afraid.

“It was so exciting!” Stephanie gushed, her face lighting up. She talked about the garden and her mother believing she could do a good job managing it and how she couldn’t wait to get started. 

“It’s all so new I just...I want her to be proud.” Hollyn smiled.

“I’m glad Stephi. Truly.” 

“Hollyn?” Stephanie asked nervously. “Do you know who Harry Styles is?” she watched Hollyn stiffen, she sighed, setting her cup of tea down. 

“I do….You met him today?” Stephanie nodded. “You like him don’t you?”

“N...No! Of course not!” Hollyn chuckled, amused at how red her Goddaughter’s face went. 

“I would never tell you what to do. You’re a woman now. You make your choices but,” Hollyn lifted a finger, a small smile on her lips. “I caution you my dear. Just be careful. I’ve heard things. Though I’ve never met him, so who’s to say they’re true. I just ask you to use your head as well as your heart.” 

“You make it sound like we’re dating.” Stephanie said playfully. Hollyn shrugged. 

“Call it an old woman’s intuition.” she laughed. “Now,” she stood up, walking around to extend her hand to Stephanie. “Did your mother tell you why I wanted you here?” she shook her head. “The Summer ball is tonight. And you, my darling, are going.” Hollyn flinched as Stephanie let out a squeal, throwing herself at her Godmother. 

“How many strings did you have to pull?!” Hollyn nuzzled Stephanie’s nose affectionately. 

“A true witch never tells.”

-*-*-*-

Harry checked himself over in the mirror. A lavender colored suit with black velvet flower designs. He liked this one a lot. He was adjusting his pants when a soft knock on the door let him know his date had arrived. 

Marlene was a lower level dealer, but she was cute and they had met at a party about a year or so back. She was blonde, with green eyes and beautiful red lips. Some likened her to Marilyn Monroe. Harry didn’t really care, she was a good fuck. 

“Hey.” Marlene leaned up to kiss him, sighing when he cupped her cheek and kissed her back, but he wasn’t into it. Stephanie’s face flashed in his mind and he wondered what it would be like if he had kissed her. How soft would her lips be?

“Hello love,” Harry said, pulling back to take a look at her. Red bodycon dress, with matching pumps and a clutch, didn’t really match him, but they weren’t a thing so that didn’t matter. 

“You ready to go?” she asked. “The driver is waiting downstairs. Harry nodded, locking his apartment behind him. 

The balls were usually held at Zeke and Hellen’s home. A mansion on the outskirts of town in a gated community. Harry could have been their neighbor. But he liked his little loft apartment and the noise the city made at night.It was his lullaby. 

The house was already bustling with activity, lights shining in the driveway as couples chatted, and butlers served horderves. The gang would have these parties once every season, to bring the ‘family’ all together and to discuss how the business was running,the profit turns and fatalities. 

Hollyn squeezed Stephanie’s hand as their car pulled up outside of Zeke and Hellen’s house. 

“You look beautiful.” Hollyn complimented her. Stephanie took a shaky breath.

“I’m nervous.” she confessed. Hollyn chuckled, brushing hair back out of her Goddaughter’s face. 

“Don’t be. You’ve got this.”

The Ball was in full swing. Harry stood with Marlene on his hip, talking politely with Zayn and his girlfriend. A few more minutes of chatter and maybe he could convince Marlene it was time for them to head back to his place. He had some big shipments coming up and exhaustion wouldn’t be an excuse if he fucked things up. 

“Oh my God.” Gigi gasped, she was pointing at someone behind the group. “Who’s that?” when Harry turned, he had to force his jaw not to drop to the floor. 

It was Stephanie, Demetra’s daughter, coming down the staircase with Hollyn, arm in arm. She wore a simple white dress with spaghetti straps and a slit that went just above the knee on the left side. It looked soft, like it was made of silk, white sandals on her feet, her toes and fingers painted a baby pink. Her hair was pulled into a simple messy, but classy bun and the only makeup he could see on her face was the ruby red lip stain on her lips.

Stephanie’s heart was pounding as she ascended the stairs with her Godmother. She held onto Hollyn tightly, terrified she would fall over. She could feel the eyes on her and when she did look up she saw a pair of familiar green eyes staring back at her, her heart fluttered and her lips parted in a silent gasp. Harry looked as handsome as he had in trousers, a black t shirt and sunglasses. She couldn’t help but smile at him and give him a little wave. And her stomach flipped when he gave her the tiniest smile back and winked.

[averagejoesolomon]

Happy Sunday!  Here’s some cars!  You can read all of Full Circle on Ao3.

Chapter Nine

The car barrels toward him at no less than eighty miles per hour and, immediately, one thing becomes abundantly clear: Matt has to get out of the way.  

He’s at the wheel of a ‘76 Oldsmobile, wedged in between a towering post and a hard place.  The seconds dwindle as he shifts into an urgent reverse.  This car is smaller than the old Chevy he learned on, so he squeezes by without much thought, and whips his way back onto the track.

Abby’s brakes squeal at his rear as she tries and fails to make the turn towards his tail.  She’ll need time to swing back around, which gives him plenty of time to race away.

The speedometer creeps up, line by line—85, 90, 95.  He’s approaching the dirty edge of his capabilities, and the engine rattles like a snake in the summertime.  It’s heating up under the hood, and the Virginian August ain’t forgiving. He’s going to have to find a place to sit idle, cool off, and he’s going to have to find it soon.

He makes a U-turn around the side of an old barn, long abandoned along the edge of Camp Peary’s primary training track.  It’ll provide him some cover from Abby, but it won’t do much to combat the high, noon sun.  The a/c has been knocked out, so he cranks the window down with one, two, three heavy pulls of the handle and waits for a breeze that won’t come.

It’s not long before a little white Pinto skids to his side, fanning up a cloud of dust in her wake.  Matt’s on high alert, but even so, she startles him in a way that spies shouldn’t be startled.  “Is this a little different from the derbies you’ve got back home?”

Rachel’s car is in worse shape than his, but she’s also far more likely to drive straight through the center of a wreck.  She shouts to him through a shattered window, but Matt gets stuck on the dent in her door, and a headlight that’s not in good health.  “That’s Kentucky,” he calls to her.  “And this ain’t a derby.  This is bumper cars.”

She grins, unrestrained.  Matt can’t remember the last time he saw Rachel smile—or if he’s ever seen Rachel smile.  There might be something to appreciate about it, except that he doesn’t get the chance.  Whatever brief moment they may share is interrupted by the roaring threat of an oncoming crash, and he looks out to once again find Abby on his horizon.

He throws his gear into drive.  “Your sister has gone bananas,” he says.  “She’s absolutely losing it.”

Rachel’s got her engine revving, still smiling.  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t lose something you never had,” she says.  “Funny thing is—this isn’t all that different from how she usually drives.”

“With a total disregard for self preservation and the rage of a ticked off bull?”

“Well that’s what happens when your Driver’s Ed instructor is an MI6 demolitions specialist.”

“When you’re what?”

“Sorry, ex-MI6 demolitions specialist.”

“That ain’t less confusing.  You know that, right?”

“Do you want to sit and chat about my childhood, or do you want to avoid the oncoming wreck that’s headed straight toward us?”

He has to honestly think about it for a moment, but the stench of Abby’s burning tires fills the air.  With a nod, he says, “Let’s motor.”

They do, veering off onto two separate paths.  Abby’s not likely to follow them both, but if anyone can, it’s her.  Matt keeps his eyes pinned to his rearview as he rounds the edge of the track, leaning into the turn as his steering wheel grinds against the palms of his hands.

It comes to him easy.  He’s been driving since he was about ten, and his pops took him out to the field to practice.  He had to sit on the edge of the seat, back then, and even still, his foot had hardly reached the gas. It’s a humble beginning that leads into a long history of tractors, forklifts, Gators, and the like.  At least the Oldsmobile is new.  At least the Oldsmobile has all its original parts, and its tire rods ain’t rusting.  He may be trying his damndest to avoid a head-on collision in an active pursuit, but at least he’s doing it in a car that won’t break down five miles out of town.

At least, that’s what he thinks, before the steering wheel snaps off in his hands.

Matt’s been driving a long time, and he’s never seen anything like this.  In an instant, he looks up toward the sky.  “If this is one of your jokes,” Matt says, to whoever may be lending an ear, “it ain’t your funniest.”

He frantically tries to place the wheel back where it belongs and while it does sit in the right spot, it doesn’t catch the way it should.  When he turns, the car doesn’t follow, which just ain’t ideal considering the fact that he’s only about two hundred yards from the garage, and closing in fast.

To top it all off, a white Pinto drives in behind him, tailed by a ruthless red mustang.

He gives the wheel another turn, and tosses it aside when it doesn’t work.  If he stops, he risks the wrath of Abby.  If he keeps going, he runs right through Camp Peary’s vehicle inventory, as well as a dozen classmates who are standing at its front.  He tries to use his hands, but he can’t get a good enough grip on the bare bolt to properly navigate.

Rachel’s gaining on him, which means Abby is too.

He searches the car for something—anything to tighten his grip.

The speedometer reaches 75 and he’s got about a hundred yards to go.

Abby taps Rachel’s bumper, right in the back corner.  It’s a dirty move, and it sends Rachel into a spiral, spinning out along dirt and into the sand, and Abby doesn’t slow.  One down, one more to go.

Matt throws open the glove compartment.

Fifty yards.

There’s a manual, a button, a map.

Forty yards.

When he shuffles through, he finds his golden ticket—or steel ticket.  A wrench.

Thirty yards.

Abby’s right on his tail now.  How did they let her take the Mustang, anyhow?

Twenty yards.

He can practically see the whites of her eyes through his rear view.

Ten yards.

He jams the wrench onto the empty wheel and slams it to his right.

Momentum throws his entire body into the door, starting from the outside in.  It’s his head and shoulders, first. Then his lungs and his brain.  Finally his heart catches up with the rest of him and he leans heavy on the brake as he skid, skid, skids to a terse and exhausting stop. Smoke and dust plume up around him, furling against the sun and, as it clears, he’s met with Lincoln’s perpetually firm expression.

Abby’s not far behind, rolling up with a hum in her engine as though nothing’s happened. She bounds out of the car, key in hand, and gleefully hands them over to Lincoln.  “Ms. Cameron,” he says.  “If Langley ever needs themselves a merciless pursuer, I’ll be sure to pass along your name.”

“Only if I get to bring the ‘Stang with me, sir.”

“I expect nothing less,” he says.  Then, without a glance or a smile, “Mr. Morgan?”

Matt’s still got about seventy gallons of adrenalin running through the deepest parts of him, so his name sounds cloudy in the air.  Or maybe the dust just hasn’t settled yet.  His hands are still gripping onto the wrench for dear life, and he hasn’t quite registered the fact that he’s still alive.

He’s still alive.

And he’s pissed.

Matt ain’t typically an angry person, but he can feel it somewhere among the beating sun and the leftover fear as he rams the car into park.  Instead of his keys, he grabs the loose wheel from his passenger seat and throws the door open.  There’s a definite storm in his step as his shoes crunch against gravel, all the way up to Lincoln.  He doesn’t mean to shove the wheel into Lincoln’s chest, but he doesn’t regret it, either.  “You’d think the CIA would have a better maintenance team on their cars.”

Lincoln tosses the wheel into the dirt.  “I thought you handled the situation fairly well, compared to others I’ve seen.”

“Others?” He finds more meaning in the words, connecting the dots.  “You planned this?”

“Of course I planned it,” says Lincoln.  “I plan everything.”

“I could have died,” he says.  “I could have…”

But he doesn’t have the words for what might have happened.  For the destruction he could have caused, or the friends he could have injured.  

Lincoln, however, does.  “If the prospect of death frightens you, Mr. Morgan,” he says, “then perhaps you should go back to your desk.”

“No, forget that,” he says, and it’s possible he’s closer to Lincoln than he should be, but he can’t seem to find the will to care.  “I could have killed someone else.”

“Matthew.”  It’s not Lincoln this time.  It’s not even Abby.  This time, it’s Rachel, rejoining them by foot after a long walk away from her wreck.  She’s got some scratches on her.  There’s already some bruises forming.  But she doesn’t seem to notice any of that when she says, “Cool off.”

“But did you see—?”

“Cool”—her glare is uncompromising—”off.”

With her words, he looks back toward Lincoln.  His face is made of stone, where Matt’s is made of lava, and it only boils his blood even more.  Nonetheless, Matt takes a step back.  Bites his tongue.  “Thank you, sir.”

Lincoln, as always, looks unimpressed.  “Get ahold of yourself, Mr. Morgan,” he says, just before he turns away and hands a pair of keys to another recruit, no time to spare on emotion.

[cherrydreamer]

okay okay i JUST saw the post and i kinda wanna request all of them, but. let’s go with my faves. labyrinth, drugstore cowboy, dirty dancing, heathers, rumble fish, and, obvs, dead poets society pls 🖤🌙

You are a GODDESS with impeccable movie taste and ILY so much! Thank you! labyrinth: what’s the relationship with your siblings like Pretty good with my older brother, he’s technically my half brother and he’s quite a bit older and most of what I remember about our childhood together is speeding around with him in his Trans Am, going to the cinema together and him buying me too many sweets and him teaching me to drive a forklift and a Transit Van. Now we bond over 80s movies and music and he will do absolutely anything to help me out. Almost non-existent with my younger sister. She was definitely the golden child in our house and I utterly hated her growing up. We’re better now but there’s no real love there.  drugstore cowboy: which historical figure most spikes your interest? Oooh this is a hard one and I REALLY want to say someone kinda cool and more indie and far less predictable but I’m gonna have to go with Mary freakin’ Shelley because I WAS a teenage Goth and that never leaves you. dirty dancing: where were you when you first heard your favourite song? Now THIS hinges on me having a favourite song and I’m NOT entirely sure I do! There is definitely some long held memory of hearing Fleetwood Mac’s Rhiannon on the radio during  a long car journey (almost certainly to some scraggy British seaside) and wanting to hear it again and again and again (and I STILL feel like that) BUT I can also vividly remember seeing Bright Eyes’ First Day of My Life on MTV2 one day as I was waiting to watch Daria. And the house was empty and I’m in the living room sitting in this huge beat up armchair, and the sun’s streaming through the window and I definitely had a cup of tea in my hand and I just sat STUNNED while tears ran down my face and GOD I fell hard for that song.  heathers: did you apologise the last time you were unreasonably mean? I DID because it was to my husband and I was being arsey and petty and sulky and utterly silly and he didn’t deserve it and we aren’t really a couple who ever argue so I felt all guilty and churny especially when HE tried to apologise first even though he wasn’t sure what he’d done! rumble fish: who do you look to for guidance in times of need? (I haven’t seen this one so I looked it up and read ‘The film is notable for its avant-garde style with a film noir feel, shot on stark high-contrast black-and-white film, using the spherical cinematographic process with allusions to French New Wave cinema and German Expressionism ‘ and I was like OFC Danae’s into this OFC she is and YES I will add it to the list) Oh ok guidance? Yeah....I kinda just...mostly stumble on blindly! Husband is my main go to, I suppose, but I do tend to try and work it out for myself first which is almost certainly a bad idea but I do not learn. For practical stuff it’s almost always Google! dead poet’s society: the last time you made a decision that everyone around you told you not to make, how did it work out? Oh I SO wanted this one to be a real life affirming tale of me overcoming odds and rising up and showing all the haters how far I’d come, but the honest answer is that my husband said ‘don’t open that packet with a knife, have another look for the scissors’ and instead I tried to open the packet with a knife and gouged a chunk out of my index finger and it still hurts.

(Thank you for the asks honeybee and I, as always, apologise for leading such a dull old person life with minimal drama and such old-dad music taste!)