#so i guess i should try to foster an audience here or something

[batshaped]

morning people

[rollercoasterwords]

hey, so. i was not planning to say anything about this, and i am still a bit wary of like...inserting myself into this conversation in any way beyond the one ask i've already answered. but. i know that some of my posts and words have been tied into the whole no post november thing, and i just...idk. i feel like i want to clarify some things about the intention of my tiktokification essay.

the fundamental basis of what i was trying to critique in that post was interacting with fanfiction through the framework of a consumer economy. that is the core of it. that is what i view as the root issue behind many of the instances of harassment and just all-around shitty behavior that i see in the marauders fandom. my personal stance is that we should be treating fanfiction + ao3 as a source of community outside of any consumer economy, which to me means that

there is no clear boundary between readers and writers. there is no clear delineation between producers and consumers. we are all meant to be in community with each other.

fanfiction should not be subject to the same sort of criticism that you might levy against media produced within a consumer economy. that's what i'm talking about in my tiktokification essay and a few other posts i've made, so i'm not going to go into detail here -- i feel like i've already made where i stand on this clear

there are no celebrities. there are no "big name" content creators. there are no influencers. someone having their work advertised without their knowledge on a different social media platform and suddenly finding themselves with an audience they never asked for does not mean we should suddenly start treating those people as if they are influencers who intentionally sought out "fandom fame." obviously, it's different if someone is advertising their work with an intent to grow some sort of following or audience, but if someone is just writing stories and posting them and hoping to foster some community where they get to talk about characters and stories they enjoy, i don't think it is fair to catapult those people into a limelight they never asked for.

so like. that is my perspective on fanfiction as a community. that is what i mean when i say fanfiction is meant to exist outside a consumer economy. and when i say i am wary of framing a stand against harassment as a strike, it is because striking is inerently tied to the framework of a consumer economy, and i do not think it's possible to undo that framework by working within it. i will reiterate - i think it is great to see writers standing in solidarity with each other. however, if my essay is going to be part of that stand against harassment (which i am okay with! i wrote it because i was unhappy about the harassment i was seeing) then i guess i just...want to make sure that people understand the core of what that essay is critiquing.

i'm going to leave my thoughts there for now. my intention with this post is not to engage in any sort of debate or argument--as i've said many times, the thoughts i post on my blog are nothing more than personal thoughts and opinions; i am not claiming to be any sort of expert, and i am never seeking anything other than conversation. i am happy to discuss my perspective on the frameworks we use to engage with fanfiction, and i know that once i post something on the internet i don't have control over the ways in which my words might be interpreted. but hopefully this helps to clarify the core issue that i was attempting to critique with my tiktokification essay for those who are now coming to my blog to read it amidst everything going on.

[valleyrunearchives]

Weightless (The Leap of a Jade Rabbit)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Chapter 40/?

Midoriya Izuku stopped believing in heroes when a tragedy occurred in his life. When at the tender age of 11, he lost everything that was everything dear to him, everything that was worth living for. Yet he doesn’t give up. He can’t give up. He decides to make a choice instead. No longer will he stand around and wait for the heroes to arrive while a crime goes down. He’ll be his own hero and a hero to those who are just like him. Those waiting for help that will never arrive. In order to do that, though, he’ll have to fight to survive and lie through his teeth. It won’t be so bad!

After all, it’s not like they can bring him in for vigilantism and Illegal Quirk Usage when he doesn’t even have a quirk, right?

Previous | First | Next

Click here to Read on AO3!

“So yeah, that’s where I’m at and I don’t know what to do,” Izuku says, lying on his bed with Haia on his chest, phone cradled up to his ear. 

“Jeez, Izuku-kun, that sounds really rough! I don’t know what I’d do in your situation,” Ochako’s voice comes through. Izuku had called her after dinner that night to explain what was going on in his life since it would’ve been a very lengthy text. He hoped she might be able to help him work something out. Plus it was nice to talk to her after so much time apart. He also wanted to give her the offer of paying for a train ticket for her so she could come visit and meet his other friends. 

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, “Part of me is super thrilled. I mean, high school? That’s like… wow! But at the same time all I can think is if I go into high school now that I’m going to be so much younger than all the other kids…” 

“Yeah… are you worried they’ll pick on you? Or even bully you?” she asks tentatively.

He reaches his free hand up to nervously pet Haia, who purrs in delight, “Of course I am! They’re kids who are going to be older and probably bigger than me. Not to mention that I’m sure it’ll get out that I’m quirkless to someone. If not them then the seniors of our school. No matter how much I try to hide it, it’ll come out somehow. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the teachers even told them! That’s what my middle school did, even though I know they’re not supposed to.”

“Let’s not forget the level of practice that they may have had with their quirks…” Ochako adds, “I’d be worried about what they’d try to use on you too.”

His heart skips a beat at that. He had somewhat forgotten about that. “Well I wasn’t before but now I am! Oh… What do I do…?”

“Have you talked to your foster parents about it?” There’s the sound of air blowing through the phone. Izuku remembers that she told him before they started talking that she was painting her nails with a new polish her parents had gifted her. He’s happy she’s got something that makes her so happy. But it must be tricky to paint her nails with her quirk, since she can only use four of her fingers to hold the brush steady. 

He wraps his arm around Haia and rolls over onto his side. She doesn’t react beyond an initial surprised mew before settling back down again. “I mean yeah but all they keep saying is that it’s up to me. I don’t think they’re getting that I want their opinions on how I should decide. That I need help making a decision that’s best for me. 

“Then tell them that!” She nearly shouts down the phone, “If there’s something that my parents always need to remind me of it’s that they’re not mind readers! If I need help with something, I have to ask for it. They won’t just be able to guess!”

“But how do I do that in a way that makes them understand?” He doesn’t remember how to do this! He hasn’t had a parent in over a year now, give him a break. 

“Simple; You tell them that you’d really like their help in deciding on the best course of action with this school thing!” 

“And it’s that easy?” He asks nervously. 

“Sure it is!” She chirps, “You just have to make sure you’re clear with them on everything! If they say something along the lines of that it’s your decision again, let them know that that’s the problem! Tell them you don’t know what your decision is and need their help finding it. Then just air out all your thoughts about it and ask them what they think!” 

Izuku hums something of an acquiesce. When she puts it like that it sounds super simple. It makes him a bit nervous though. He doesn’t want to say something that makes them think he’s overreacting about all this. He’s just getting the sense that they think he’ll be able to go Boom! Decision made! But he can’t. Not about something this big for his life. She seems to hear or at least figure out his apprehension, “Okay! Let’s try something! An exercise to practice, if you will! Pretend I’m your foster parents; Go!”

“G-Go? Go what?” he asks.

“Start at the beginning! Ask for help! I’m your foster parents, you’ve just walked up to me, what do you say? Go!” 

‘“Uh…” His mind jumps several times before he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses, “Hey can I talk to you guys about something…?”

“Sure, Izuku! What’s up?” She lowers her voice to talk in a deeper tone, trying to imitate one of his foster dads. Izuku snorts in amusement but covers it up in a cough. Right. Focus on the exercise.

“Well… I’ve been thinking about this school thing and I… really think I need your help on deciding what I should do.”

“It’s ultimately up to you,” Ochako’s ‘deep’ voice says back. Izuku resists the urge to snort again. C’mon focus!

“Yeah I know but I really don’t know what to do. I’m just so worried about some aspects of each decision and need your help figuring out which one’s best.” 

“Okay, let’s sit down and talk about it,” Ochako then clears her throat before saying, in her normal voice this time, “That was perfect, Izuku-kun! Now just do that again with your actual foster parents and tell them everything that’s bugging you! I promise, it’ll be easier than you think it is!”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure! Do you want to go so you can get it all over with while it’s still fresh in your mind?” she asks.

“Yeah,” The thought comes back to him just before he’s about to tell her that he’ll talk to her later, “Oh right! Real quick before we hang up!”

“Huh? What’s up? Need to run through the exercise one more time or something?”

“No, no! Um… You can tell me no if you don’t want to but… I’d really like for you to come up to meet my friends and visit for a while. I know your parents don't really have the money for that but… Could I… Pay for a ticket for you? It doesn’t have to be everytime you come for a visit and if it’s too much for me to ask because you would feel guilty I promise it’s no big deal but you can still tell me no regardless! Whatever you want to do!” He’s starting to ramble in his nerves. Get it together Izuku. It’s not like you’re asking her to move here or anything!

“Oh that would be great! I would love that!” She says excitedly. Izuku relaxes. He should’ve known that Ochako would have been all for it right away. She’s been saying that she’s really looking forward to meeting his friends. He smiles to himself, “So next Tuesday? I’ll send the ticket to you virtually.”

“Awesome! I can’t wait to meet everyone! Don’t tell them I’m coming! I want it to be a surprise!”  

He laughs softly, “You got it. Alright… I’m going to go talk to Hizashi and Shouta. Thanks for your help, Ochako-chan.”

“No problem! Talk to you later Izuku-kun!” 

“Yeah, see you!”

He hangs up the phone and sets it on his bedside table. He moves Haia to lay on his bed. He takes a deep breath before standing up and heading to the living room. Hizashi and Shouta are both sitting on the couch. Hizashi is reading a book with Shouta’s feet on his lap while the darker haired man watches TV with Bastard on his chest similar to how Haia was on his. 

He takes another breath before approaching them. They both look up at him with smiles, Hizashi’s wide and bright and Shouta’s small but warm. “Can I… talk to you guys about something?” he asks meekly.

They share a glance before Hizashi smiles up at him again and says with no hesitation, “Sure, Bunny Bean!”

“What do we need to talk about, Problem Child?” Shouta asks next.

What do we need to talk about, they say. Bunny Bean, Hizashi calls him. Problem Child, Shouta calls him. Their names for him. Like Zu was for his mom. He smiles and settles down on the armchair next to the couch. This may take a while…

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOU GUYS I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS

It was neither of my guesses. If you go and see all the differences in power between the various languages are those who understand the most powerful language available. Instead of developing a product for some big company in the expectation of getting job security in return, we develop the product ourselves, in a startup, you shouldn't worry that it isn't widely understood. I would like. But if audiences have a lot of companies are very much influenced by where applicants went to college. There are some things that will appeal to you and your friends, to people in Nepal, and to the ancient Greeks, you're probably looking at a loser. Either VCs will evolve down into this gap or, more likely, new investors will appear to fill it. Do I really want to support this company? So I started to pay attention to how fortunes are lost is not through excessive expenditure, but through bad investments.

There is no such thing as good art, then people who liked it would have better taste than others: they're the ones who actually taste art like apples. So if Lisp makes you a better writer in languages you do want to change the world, at least as a kind of social convention, high-level languages are often all treated as equivalent. This sort of change tends to create as many good things as it kills. We didn't know anything about marketing, or hiring people, or raising money, or getting customers. The more of an IT flavor the job descriptions had, the less dangerous the company was. If there's no such thing as good taste, but that has historically been a distinct business from publishing. But now it worked to our advantage. It's like saying something clever in a conversation as if you'd thought of it on the spur of the moment, when in fact you'd worked it out the day before. And not just because that's more rewarding than worldly success.

What would make the painting more interesting to people? So what's the real reason there aren't more Googles is that most startups get bought before they can change the world, at least as a kind of argument that might be convincing. I doubt what we've discovered is an anomaly specific to startups. But though I can't predict specific winners, I can offer a recipe for recognizing them. So these big, dumb companies were a dangerous source of revenue. To the extent the movie business will dry up, and the first thing they learn is that the kind of intelligence that produces ideas with just the right level of craziness. Is software a counterexample? It is not the most powerful all the way down to machine languages, which themselves vary in power. Our generation wants to get paid up front.

They didn't want to use it in all his paintings, wouldn't he? This idea is rarely followed to its conclusion, though. You never had to worry about and which not to. I and most of the time about which of two proofs was better. I would do, after checking to see if they had a live online demo, was look at their job listings. Someone with ordinary tastes would find it hard to change directions. Another is to stand close. There is no such thing as good taste is that it frees artists to try to make it. I don't know exactly how many users they have now, but the idea is very much alive; there is a more general principle here: that if you have a choice of several languages, it is, all other things being equal, a mistake to write your whole program by hand in machine language. I had stopped believing that.

Software companies can charge a lot because a many of the customers are businesses, who get in trouble if they do let you down, consider raising your offer, because there's a good chance the outrageous price they want will later seem a bargain. I'd agree that taste is just a matter of personal preference.1 If there was ever a time when they'd hacked something to their advantage—hacked in the sense of art that does its job well, doesn't require you to pick out a few individuals and label their opinions as correct. But we also knew that that didn't mean anything. So Yahoo's sales force had evolved to exploit this source of revenue. Languages less powerful than Blub are obviously less powerful, because they're missing some feature he's used to. We eventually had many competitors, on the order of twenty to thirty of them, but none of their software could compete with ours. They're terrified of really novel ideas, unless the founders are good enough salesmen to compensate. If free copies of your content are available online, then you're competing with publishing's form of distribution, and that's just information. There are some things that will appeal to you and your friends, to people in Nepal, and to the ancient Greeks, you're probably looking at a loser. It was still very much a hacker-centric.

So it is with colleges. The tragedy of the situation is that by far the greatest liability of not having gone to the college you'd have liked is your own feeling that you're thereby lacking something. All users care about is whether you make something they like. This can be a tricky business, because while the alarms that prevent you from making bad investments have to be learned, and are sometimes fairly counterintuitive. So we're in much the same position as a graduate program, or a company hiring people right out of college. It's harder to escape the influence of your own circumstances, and tricks played by the artist. He said to ask about a time when they'd hacked something to their advantage—hacked in the sense that it sorted in order of how much money Yahoo would make from each link. Publishers. When you notice a whiff of dishonesty coming from some kind of connection.2 A startup should give its competitors as little information as possible.

Notes

Y Combinator.

Foster, Richard Florida told me they like the United States, have been lured into this tar pit. It requires the kind of protection against abuse and accidents. Scribes in ancient philosophy may be the last place in the top startup law firms are Wilson Sonsini, Orrick, Fenwick West, Gunderson Dettmer, and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev. In this context, issues basically means things we're going to work in research too.

Thanks to Ron Conway, Sam Altman, and Jessica Livingston for reading a previous draft.

[whereisten]

True Love

A Jeno fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: You, an employee at an entertainment company, are immune to the charms of their biggest star Lee Jeno.

Pairing: Rockstar! Jeno x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, fantasy, suspense

Warning: alcohol use, smut mention, stalking, manipulation 

Word Count: 4.3k

(A/N: Hiya! I’m so sorry for the delay! It’s been so hectic lol! Thank you so much for your support and patience! Hope you enjoy! And shoutout to Krys for keeping me sane and for all of her love and support. I love you! :D)

___

To everyone in the world, Lee Jeno was the epitome of perfection and rock royalty. He was a gifted musician from the very young age of five, having specialized in several instruments in his childhood. However, his heart gravitated to the guitar. He became a trainee at LCF Entertainment and along with four other trainees, they became the world famous rock band, Temptation.

He was ranked in the top 23 in World Magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive this year. He was a walking and talking Adonis with a heartwarming smile.

Jeno was a man of many talents but he certainly didn’t let it get to his head. He was a humanitarian, a UNICEF ambassador, fostered shelter animals, was the proud owner of three cats even though he was allergic, a great family man (funding his siblings’ college tuition and providing for his parents so they could retire early), etc. He did it all and he had it all.

How could anyone be immune to his charms?

People wondered who would be the queen that would reign beside him when he settled down. Frankly, one couldn’t be anything short of a supermodel on the verge of sainthood. So many hopeful contenders were discouraged from pursuing him.

Jeno’s dating life was non-existent, the paparazzi dreaded to inform.

But you were an employee of LCF Entertainment so you knew the truth, as well as the true nature of the famous Lee Jeno. He was basically like any other young man with an inflated ego. He was cocky, a huge flirt when the cameras were off, very picky, and demanding. But no one ever dared speak a word of his true nature to the paparazzi. And you always wondered why. Someone had to bring him down a few pegs.

You were the staff photographer and videographer, in charge of capturing Jeno’s good and “relatable but still unbelievably glamorous” sides. When the camera was on, that was when you felt at ease.

It didn’t help that Jeno liked you either. Although you’d been working with Temptation and the individual members for a few years now, it was only recently that Jeno really was set on it pursuing you.

When you switched off the camera after the recording of Jeno’s backstage vlog, he sat comfortably at his makeup chair and proceeded to ask, “Y/n, will you go out with me now?”

You answered immediately, “No.”

Jeno gave you a sad puppy dog face. “Why not?”

“We’ve gone over this. I would get fired.” You wanted to spare his feelings so that was what you always said when he asked you out.

Jeno groaned. “You would not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “You think you have that kind of power, Lee?”

He liked when you called him by his last name. “That’s because I do have that power, y/n. The new company building is funded solely out of my earnings from my last solo album.”

You whistled. “There’s that humility I’m always reading about in O!What Magazine…”

Jeno smiled. “You read articles about me?”

“I do when my name is in the article, boss.” You started packing up your equipment, ready to call it a day and head home.

Jeno got out of his chair and stood over you. He smelled of Dior Sauvage, cologne from his latest brand endorsement. He wore his stage clothes from his solo concert rehearsal. A sleeveless jean jacket top that parted down the middle to show his abs. Along his abs, silver chains dangled and added a nice glimmer effect when he was on stage. The entire team was thrilled to see how the audience would eat it up.

He whispered into your ear, “Y/n.”

Truthfully? He was attractive. You’d always had a little crush on him but it was of a shallow nature. You liked him for his looks. Not so much for his personality. You’d known too much.

If Jeno had been any other regular guy, you would’ve been open to a one-night stand.

But Jeno wasn’t just any regular guy.

You tried to hide the fact that shivers ran down your spine. “Stop.”

He chuckled. “But I can see you through the reflection, y/n...You're crossing your legs…”

You’d hoped he wasn’t that perceptive but it turned out he was. You hid away the fact that you were turned on. Your panties were damp but you’d be damned if he ever knew that.

You met Jeno’s perfectly lined eyes as he looked at you unapologetically. Everyone else from the staff already left. Jeno’s manager was waiting downstairs to take him to the radio station J-423 for his upcoming interview.

You were breathless now. “Jeno, you’re going to be late-”

He pulled you into him and kissed you, easily slipping his tongue into your mouth and working magic against yours. You couldn’t help but return his kiss. His mouth was paradise and you wondered what else he could do with it.

He let you go after a few minutes and cupped your face. “So are you going to deny that there’s something going on here?”

You tried to catch your breath as you wiped your lipstick off of Jeno’s mouth. “No, I guess not...But this is where it stops.”

Jeno frowned. “Y/n…”

“I know where I stand. And you know it, too. And Jeno, I don’t like you that way...I’m sorry.” You caressed his face and grabbed your things, leaving Jeno with an unreadable expression on his face.

___

As a member of LCF Entertainment, your ultimate goal was profit. That was what you had to know from the very beginning. There was no such thing as LCF Family or truly prioritizing the idols. Everyone was after themselves. Whoever brought the most money to the company would get the most attention and special treatment. And that was Jeno.

And you, an aspiring film director, were thankful to be on his team because this experience could open doors for you in the future as a director. Sure, Jeno was a diva and he couldn’t stop flirting with you, but the experience wasn’t all that bad. And yeah it was frustrating that the media and the public perceived Jeno to be the nation’s sweetheart. But in the end, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

He was only hurting people’s wallets.

Temptation’s merchandise always sold out quickly but Jeno’s individual merch was always the first to sell out. And it was the first to get resold for twice and sometimes even triple the price. The fanbase was very merciless and selfish with each other. However, the scalpers were the true evil. That was less money going to your company, after all.

Even though frontman Jeno was the most popular member of Temptation, it was Temptation’s drummer Xiaojun that you had a massive crush on for a long time now. You even accumulated a secret collection of his merch. You were two photocards away from completing your Xiaojun album photocard collection.

Xiaojun even admitted to liking you back but you both kept it a secret from everyone else in the world, especially LCF. You two weren’t about to compromise your jobs. However, since Temptation was the biggest moneymaker in the game and the boys had been with the company for quite some time now, their dating ban was lifted.

Which explained why Jeno had been asking you out all week, not caring who listened and it freaked you out.

If Jeno’s fans ever found out he asked you out, they would pin the blame on you.

A week had passed since you told Jeno you weren’t interested in him. You felt bad for hurting him but you were also worried about his mood. He had the power to get you dismissed. You refused to believe he would be so cruel.

And up until this point, you were right. You were still employed and Jeno spoke with you like any other day, talking about camera angles and new concepts for upcoming shoots.

The end of another work week and Xiaojun surprises you on your way to the bus stop.

“Y/n,” Xiaojun pulls up beside you in his Porsche. He looked so elegant in a pale blue sweater and blue jeans. His face was concealed by a mask so he could leave undetected. But you’d recognized those eyebrows anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I...I think we should finally talk…”

“About?”

He smiled. “About dating.”

You nearly dropped your phone out of your hand from the shock. “Really?”

He said, “Get in so I can drive you home!”

You nodded fervently and got into his passenger seat. Was this really happening?

On the drive home, Xiaojun told you he wanted to take it slow and have indoor dates with you first. You couldn’t agree more. He even surprised you with a brand new pair of AirPods after you told him that your brother took them from you.

The first of many gifts, he told you.

You got home that night and screamed excitedly into your pillow so as not to frighten your roommates

___

It has been a month since you and Xiaojun started seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. He would visit you at your apartment and would play with his dog Bella. Bella loved you a little more than she loved Xiaojun so you two would always bicker and end the night in each other’s arms.

Jeno noticed the spring in your step as you filmed his cooking vlog. He was showing his fans how he cooked breakfast for himself when he had down time. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He looked relaxed and for many, delectable, as his hair was wet from a shower. He was trying very hard to get your attention once again.

He anticipated you averting your eyes and stuttering at the sight of him but nothing. You whistled while you adjusted the tripod’s position.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jeno asked.

You nearly jumped at his question. You decided to be upfront. “I’m seeing Xiaojun.”

Jeno’s cool facade nearly cracked before your very eyes. “Oh?”

You apologized. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I should’ve told you that I liked Xiaojun…”

Jeno was furious. What the hell did Xiaojun have that he didn’t? Jeno was more muscular, taller, more talented, wealthier, more attractive...He was superior to Jeno in every way and everyone else knew it, too.

He honed his acting skills and replied evenly, “Why are you apologizing, y/n? So you like someone else...I’ll live.”

You realized maybe Jeno didn’t like you as much as you thought so you felt relieved to hear his dismissive tone. “Right. Good. I just...thought you should know…”

You and Jeno continued the shoot. He acted like nothing had happened and even behind the scenes, he joked with you and asked you which of the female trainees he should ask out. You berated him because female trainees were not allowed to date and he knew this very well. Jeno was back to his arrogant self and you were relieved.

___

You got a text from Xiaojun that he was finishing up a filming schedule with his bandmates. You wouldn’t be able to see him today because the schedule was running overtime.

He told you to go to dinner with some friends at Osaka Moon. His treat. He was good friends with the chef, apparently. You were on your way to the restaurant to meet your friends.

You were shocked at how down-to-earth Xiaojun still was after achieving so much fame and then he would do things like this. It gave you whiplash but you were having the time of your life with him.

However, you noticed him across the street. Xiaojun always wore different wigs and masks for his disguised outings with you.

But this time, there were no disguises. His side swept blonde hair and his thin framed glasses. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Was the filming for the show at the Downtown Hotel?

You were about to call his name when you saw another woman wrap her arms around him and squeeze his ass. She had long wavy brown hair and a slender frame. She could’ve been a model or a singer. They both entered the expensive hotel. Very bold of him to take her out so publicly when he was still intent on hiding you.

You felt like someone knocked the breath out of you. You shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, you dialed Xiaojun’s number and there was no answer. You called four more times and nothing.

Son of a bitch, you thought.

He played you. You should’ve known he was no different than any other dickhead A-lister.

You decided to call his bandmates. It turned out that the filming they’d done today wrapped up over two hours ago.

Haechan had no idea where he was. Jisung didn’t either. Jaemin was equally perplexed. Last but not least you called Jeno.

He answered. “Hello?”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “Jeno…”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Xiaojun is?”

“Not specifically...he did mention he had a reservation at the Downtown Hotel…”

You sniffled. “He did?”

“I thought he was meeting you…”

“No, he wasn’t…”

“Oh...Oh, shit, y/n. I am so-“

“It’s okay...Thanks Jeno. I’ll see you on Monday…”

You told your friends to have dinner without you and to make sure to spare no expense because your so-called boyfriend was buying. You told them Xiaojun finished at the last minute and wanted to take you dancing.

A total lie so you could wallow at your local bar.

You sat right by the bar and downed a few glasses of beer. Just to feel anything else besides the betrayal you felt.

A half hour later, you were even more buzzed now. A young man sat beside you at the counter.

He started, “Hello, gorgeous.”

You looked at the young man. He was stunning. Another face that belonged on television. Another one of those who was capable of seducing you and tossing you away the very next second.

You flipped the bird. “Bite me.”

The young man scoffed and tried again, “Feisty, aren’t we?”

He got closer to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Please leave me alone…”

“Tsk tsk. A beautiful girl like you in tears? You need someone who will bring your smile back.”

“And you’re the man for that job?” Someone interrupted.

You were shocked to find Jeno here. He looked gorgeous in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back the way you liked it most and wow, you may have had one too many drinks...A few customers recognized Jeno and started whispering and taking their cameras out.

“Jeno?” You nearly lost your balance as you got up from your chair.

Jeno grabbed you immediately before the other guy could.

The stranger said, “Why do you get to put your hands on her? Just cause you're some pretty boy with mediocre music...I’m sure she’s nothing compared to who you’ve bedded before-“

Jeno socked him in the face and escorted you out of the bar. The stranger cursed you both out as you left. Jeno led you quickly into his manager’s car that he borrowed for the night. You felt a little dizzy.

Jeno fastened your seatbelt.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He looked at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Why are men scum, Jeno?”

Jeno sighed. “I’m so sorry about-“

“Don’t say his name...I...never want to see him again...God, now I have to sell all of his merch…”

Jeno frowned in confusion and continued, “I’ll take you home…”

You didn’t want to face your roommates. “No...Can I…Spend the night with you?”

It took all of Jeno’s might not to get out his car and raise his fist in the air. But he composed himself. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, wanting to forget all about Xiaojun and have one thoughtless night with Jeno. “Yes.”

Jeno drove you two to his penthouse suite. He was cautious around you and you were ready to shrug away your inhibitions.

Jeno helped you remove your coat at the entrance. “Take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”

You sat yourself on the couch and opened your legs wide, exposing your panties underneath your skirt. “Jeno, fuck me right now so I can forget his sorry ass.”

Jeno hesitated then but seeing how irresistible you were...He couldn’t help himself.

He asked again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You were buzzed but not that buzzed. You wanted to spite Xiaojun. You wanted to acknowledge the part of you that longed for Jeno for so long, too. You’d be stupid to deny that you fantasized about a night with him.

You hesitated before but now you said, why the hell not?  

You and Jeno made love that night. Jeno was over the moon that you were finally in his arms. Sure it was a rebound but the look in your eyes when he was inside you had to mean something. There was a promise there and Jeno held onto that glimmer of hope.

Jeno took you home the next day and he was very cool about the whole night. Right before you returned home. you reminded him about how this was a one night stand and thanked him for a wonderful night.

You were resolute in dumping Xiaojun and simply going back to work. Thankful you only ever worked for Jeno anyway. And as expected, Jeno was his usual self: cocky, flirty, sending his food back for random reasons.

Xiaojun came under the fire for going to a hotel with a potential prostitute. The identity of the woman he was seen with remained a mystery. He tried convincing everyone that the woman was not a prostitute but he couldn’t remember how he met her or what she looked like. That night and along with how crazy Xiaojun sounded caused the company to encourage him to leave. Xiaojun’s contract with LCF Entertainment was terminated.

The week after you and Jeno made love...You started catching feelings for him. Every glance. Every fleeting touch. It drove you mad. And suddenly that one night stand was something you wanted again. And again. And again.

You accompanied Jeno and his manager as he attended a gallery opening. You were in charge of his photos for his social media. He looked extremely dapper in his red suit. You just wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him in front of all of the guests. Becoming a work of art yourselves.

These thoughts you’ve been having used to scare you but now...you owned them. Tonight, when you got him alone, you would tell him how you really felt. You hoped you weren’t too late.

Jeno’s manager excused himself to get some refreshments. Jeno observed a painting while you took some more photos.

“Stunning,” you said aloud.

Jeno’s eyes grew at your words. “Wow, y/n...All the years we’ve worked together and you’ve never made a comment about my looks…”

Your face grew warm then. “I’m feeling a little bolder these days…”

He grinned. “Is that so?”

“Jeno, I won’t beat around the bush…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night…”

“Y/n…”

“I know I said it was a one night stand and...You’ve moved on…”

Jeno started, “I haven’t…”

You were shocked to hear it. “Really?”

He moved closer to you and moved the camera away from your line of sight. “What are you saying, y/n?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I’m saying...that I want to be with you, Jeno.”

Jeno’s smile looked so gorgeous then. He was the true work of art at the gallery. “Well, y/n, I’ve made my feelings abundantly clear for a while now…”

He kissed you then. And the cameras started flashing.

You were on cloud nine. You finally released your suppressed feelings for the rockstar before you.

___

You’ve been together for two years now. He made you feel safe and loved. He showered you with gifts and trips to the most beautiful parts of the world.

As for the response from netizens and the company? Jeno had all the power and he could handle a few naysayers. Your job as his photographer and videographer remained intact. And you were well on your way to transitioning to your own film projects: your dream.

You and Jeno had become a couple to root for. They called you The Prince and The Pauper Turned Princess. You hated your label but whenever you looked at Jeno’s eyes, any anxiety or anger quickly faded.

Jeno had a solo performance in your city tonight and you were seated in a private booth. He was performing so well, moving from instrument to instrument. Driving people to tears with his long low notes. And then he surprised everyone with his announcement.

“Before I perform ‘Changed Your Mind’, I want to give a shout-out to the woman of my dreams, y/n, who is here with us tonight.”

The stadium roared in excitement and many heads turned to you. Your eyes never left Jeno.

“Y/n, I love you so much. We’ve come so far, baby. And I want us to never stop. Which is why…”

He got down from the stage and was escorted by security down to the crowd. He ran his hands past adoring fans as he made his way to you.

He entered your booth with his camera crew and security close by. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

You cried out, “Yes!”

Jeno picked you up and spun you around. You kissed passionately. The crowd’s roars thundered now. It was a celebration. You didn’t care that all eyes were on you now, as well. All you cared about was Jeno. And he loved you more than anything else in the world.

You truly found your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier.

___

Jeno finished his show and was backstage cooling down with a bottle of water.

“Good job tonight,” a woman said as she stood at the door of Jeno’s dressing room.

“Thank you, sis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeno’s older sister Yeeun sat on the couch of the dressing room. “How does it feel to have her in your clutches now?”

Jeno smirked. “Pretty damn great.”

“And I’m here to collect my payment, little brother.”

Jeno sighed. “Really? It’s been two years.”

Yeeun looked at her manicured nails. “I’ve been busy.”

Jeno laughed. “Screwing over taken men? I’m sorry, I meant screwing taken men?”

“Nope. That task was a one-and-done deal. How is that poor boy doing these days?”

“Xiaojun? He’s back at school getting his master’s...He’s happy.”

“Has he tried to contact y/n since then?” Yeeun asked.

Jeno chuckled. “No. Why would he?”

She smiled at him. “They were sweet together. And you tore them apart because you couldn’t take no for an answer, could you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes. “And what about it? I have a right to get whatever I want. Do you know who I am?”

Yeeun sighed. “Yes, you repeatedly tell the family group chat who you are every week. And we all take it because you pay us well…”

Jeno and Yeeun had conspired against you and Xiaojun. Jeno stole Xiaojun’s phone and Yeeun charmed Xiaojun to join her for a night at the hotel. Jeno planned for you to go to Osaka Moon so you could see Xiaojun and Yeeun together.

Jeno watched you as you broke down in tears, calling each of his bandmates. He made sure he was far enough away by the time you called him. He played the part of a concerned friend very well. He had to take up acting, another field he would surely dominate. And with you as his director? It made him hard just thinking about it.

Jeno didn’t coincidentally find you at the bar. He’d been tailing and that stranger who hit on you was only an added bonus. Jeno could play the unsuspecting hero and you would eat it up. And that you did. He was satisfied to know that you wanted to sleep with him. He didn’t care about being a rebound.

Even so, he wasn’t going to take any chances. So after you left his penthouse the next morning, he took the bedsheets you came on and the strands of hair you left behind and got to work.

Did you really think Jeno amassed such success and wealth all on his own? He had a little help from his family and their friends from Hell, of course. Jeno’s family came from a long line of Satan-worshipping witches. Jeno was the youngest of the descendants.

Human sacrifice was only a small token of the Lee family’s appreciation to Lucifer. So Jeno’s deception of Xiaojun was almost nothing in the list of gruesome things Jeno has done to reach the top of his game.

Yeeun was able to literally charm Xiaojun with her own special concoction. Once she and Xiaojun had sex, she wiped his memory of that hour and left him alone at the hotel. Confused. Disoriented. Worried.

As for you? Well, you were the most irresistible creature in this world. Your immunity to his charms was only the first step in his growing feelings for you. You were brilliant and talented at your craft, always capturing his best features on camera. You were gorgeous. He was surprised you didn’t become an idol at LCF yourself. You were warm and sweet and giving. Even if the company was cutthroat, he saw how you’d be with your coworkers and the other idols. You were just a pure, loving girl. And he desperately needed you. Desired you. Craved you.

He simply had to call you his.

With your samples, he was able to create the perfect spell to make you his.

Forever.

That was what Jeno called true love.

[Fin]

[alittlextrathatway]

So I had a thought...

Season 9's miscommunication was totally foreshadowed in 8x09.

And by foreshadowed I don't mean because Gabby came back and that's the source of the problem.

Some people may not find this shocking because, like me, you head canon that 8x09 was closure for Matt and Gabby, but I'm here to propose that it's not just a head canon or an "interpretation".

Because I'm here to say, it was literally closure and the first time Brett put a meaning behind Casey's words that he didn't intend to fit her own assumptions about his feelings for Gabby.

Let's look at that scene between Brett and Casey at the end of the episode, shall we?

"Hey!"

"Good morning."

"How'd it go with Dawson?"

"Great, actually."

"Oh, that's...so so good to hear."

"Thanks for talking me into that."

That was it. That was the extent of the conversation. And Sylvie's response is to assume that being with Dawson is what made Matt happy which, in turn, allows the audience to assume that as well.

(Inserting cut here because this is gonna get long.)

But I'm here to suggest (as I've done in fanfic time and time again) that being with Dawson isn't actually what made Matt happy. (Not that he'd explain that to Brett and certainly not with Foster standing right behind her.) What made Matt happy is finally achieving closure with Dawson. Why do I think this was closure even though Derek wants us to think it wasn't?

Well, for starters, both Monica and Jesse have called it closure.

But aside from that, before their hook up Gabby asks if it's a mistake because she's leaving in the morning and Matt says, "I know and I'm staying. But that doesn't make this a mistake."

That is not something you say when you want to seriously rekindle a romance, guys. That's something you say when you know you're in the middle of a one night only event. Both Gabby and Matt knew this one night wasn't going to lead to anything else. Nothing had changed between them since she left at the beginning of season 7.

Gabby is living a life that makes her happy far away from Chicago and she's very successful at it so why would she stay? Matt is settled in Chicago. His family and work family are there along with the job that he loves. Why would he leave? This wasn't some romantic reunion intended to be the beginning of them fixing their marriage. This was the goodbye they never got the first time around, for Gabby at least.

For Matt this was a chance for him to have a say in how their story ended. He chose to go to Gabby's room and he also chose to leave without saying goodbye the next morning. Also not something you would do if you were wanting to rekindle a relationship.

Matt closed the door on Gabby that night and decided to move on with his life. That is the real reason he's happy when he shows up at the Firehouse. So, when he thanks Brett for talking him into it he's actually thanking her for helping him achieve closure only she doesn't know that because, once again, Matt answered the "How'd it go?" question in the vaguest terms possible.

Does that remind anyone of "You were right. I needed to hear it."? Or is that just me?

The more I think about this the more I am convinced S8 was about Matt achieving closure and finally moving on. As much as S9 has hurt my heart, it is slowly allowing me to see the larger journey from a different perspective (When Derek says Brettsey is years in the making I truly believe him. The evidence is all there.)

S7 was about proposing the idea of Brettsey to both characters. By the end of it, Sylvie thinks she's reading too much into it and I think Matt thinks Sheffield's return is a sign that he and Sylvie should stick to being friends.

Upon reflection, I think the early part of S8 was about Matt trying his damndest to stay friends with Sylvie Brett. Likely because he wasn't sure if he was ready to move on or completely over Gabby. So early in the season we see him hooking up with Smart Girl and then trying to simply be a good friend to Sylvie. We see a little jealousy with Ryan but ultimately he does encourage her when it comes to him and then continues to encourage her when things with Ryan come to an awkward end.

We all love what he says to Sylvie there but I think we can agree that while it shows how much he values and respects her, it's a largely platonic sentiment. He's trying to be her friend despite the crush we can obviously see he's still harboring (though this is the only episode in the early part of the season where the crush truly shows itself).

Gabby's return is only a couple of episodes after that. Matt is hesitant to go to the gala and I think that's because he's not sure it'll help him achieve the closure he wants. He may have a bit of a crush on Sylvie but above all else they're friends and he trusts her to give him fair and accurate advice. So, in my opinion, he goes and finds out it was exactly the closure that he need it. (Except for that voicemail which I am convinced is Derek ship baiting again as he did in 9x09 and probably also him planting the seeds for the doubt that caused Matt to say "I don't know" in 9x02.)

Now, what begins to seriously happens after Gabby leaves?

Yep, you guessed it, Brett and Casey begin to grow closer. Matt begins to seek out reasons to spend time with Brett and actively invest in their friendship. It slowly develops into a deep connection that is well beyond platonic as the season progresses. To me, it appears that he's leaning into his feelings and beginning to let himself move on. Maybe he doesn't realize that's what he's doing as it happening but that's definitely the end result.

It is not a coincidence that all of that begins to happen after his one night with Gabby. He was holding back in 8x01-8x09 but after he gets his closure all bets are off. He wants to be around Sylvie -- to be near her, talk to her, and learn everything he can about her.

The timing of that should not be lost on us and that timing means that 8x09 is actually the very first time Brettsey miscommunicated and is, in fact, the source of all our problems in S9.

My theory: Derek brought Gabby back not to further Dawsey but to cause a complication for Brettsey.

I am convinced and I will remain convinced until the show explicitly tells me I'm wrong.

Derek has been playing the long game with them this entire time. He'll continue to mess with our heads however he can because that's simply what he does, but it's clear he truly has been planning this journey between Sylvie and Matt for years. Brettsey endgame is coming, but Derek's gonna drag us through hell to get there so buckle up, guys.

Buckle. Up.

Sorry, this got so long, but I had an epiphany today and had to type all of it out immediately to get it out of my head. I found it very encouraging so hopefully someone else will too! <3

[keyofjetwolf]

We’re All Just Guys

Well it took the entire fucking season, but I FINALLY get the purpose for Henry Fondle: Sex Robot. And while the entire episode (and season, honestly) has been tremendous, that this ridiculous fucking punchline was the vehicle to deliver the overarching point with a solid knockout punch of meaning AND pathos? Absolutely floored. That BoJack Horseman can be (and often is) brilliant isn’t a surprise, but the ways is keeps proving it often are.

So “The Stopped Show”, a tale of accountability and responsibility and how we’re all just guys.

Each of our main characters closes out this season alone (sort of), in assorted stages of realizing the main themes, or completely failing to. I find Diane’s arc the hardest for me to make a decision on, which isn’t surprising, as I think in many ways, Diane’s the most complicated character in the show. She delivers, directly and succinctly, one of the major points of not just this season but the entire show, but how does it relate to her? I’M NOT COMPLETELY SURE. I think part of the problem with (and for) Diane is that she knows better. She’s the most insightful character, she has a fantastic head on her shoulders, but only for everyone else. She’s this fucked up little disaster prophet, her vision clear and her message concise, unable to ever apply her gifts to fix herself.

Diane is just as trapped as BoJack, but in a fun twist, is now lagging behind him in trying to do something about it. Nearly every single scene with Diane this season has been in this sad little room of her sad little apartment with all her sad little unpacked boxes, and no matter how much truth and wisdom she spits out, HERE SHE STILL IS, failing to correctly assemble IKEA furniture with names like Bȧcksleid. She already feels like shit for sleeping with Mr. Peanutbutter, so what does she do? THE SAME FUCKING THING. To which I groan and roll my eyes, while simultaneously being proud of her for directly and immediately setting him straight about not getting back together. Diane rides this constant line where she gets it but also doesn’t, which is so interesting to me in the level of additional frustration this makes me feel. BoJack is so self-absorbed you don’t really expect any better of him, which has the flip side of your expectations being so low that even the whiff of progress feels exceptional. Diane doesn’t come with any of that though, she knows better, you KNOW she knows better, and the consequence of this for the audience is that she winds up being more unlikeable than the guy who literally last episode nearly strangled his girlfriend and co-star in the middle of a paranoid drug-induced frenzy.

Which is fucked up! It’s intensely fucked up! And also, I think, the point! We expect more of Diane, and so feel more disappointed when she doesn’t deliver. Is that fair of us?

But there’s more here, as we pivot to the accountability portion of this episode/season. From the beginning of the show, it’s been incredibly upfront about how everything is unfair. We come back to this time and again. Privilege rules the day in the world of Hollywoo. Fame, money, charisma, gender, power. BoJack has been an asshole from pretty much the moment he set foot in the spotlight (possibly before?), and the only thing ever even attempting to hold him back has been the moments his guilt manages to scream loud enough to be heard over his internal narrative. Whatever he does, however he fucks up, he always stumbles back to his feet, and NEVER with any (broad scale) consequences. Meanwhile, here’s Diane, in her sad shitty apartment. Consequences haunt Diane, even if she’s the one doing the haunting. The crap things she’s done and the shitty choices she’s made cling to her.

There’s no fairness in that either, no justice. But Hollywoo (and the entire world around it) (and our world too oh yes) has that privilege carved into its bones, and Diane bears none of its marks. Her situation is very different from but parallel to Gina, who is just so fucked over, it keeps legitimately making me angry for her.

Gina, of course, brought none of this on herself. She made the mistake of caring about BoJack and trying to help him. OOPS YOU WERE A GENEROUS PERSON WITH AN OPEN HEART FUCK YOU LADY. For her trouble, Gina has been assaulted and traumatized, AND she is in very real danger of her career being over when it’s only just finally beginning. And she KNOWS THIS. That’s the part that I keep coming back to. All this should be an aberration, an anomaly, and while that may be true of the specifics, conceptually, it’s so commonplace that Gina already knows how it’s going to play. She’ll stop being Gina and become The Woman Nearly Strangled To Death By BoJack Horseman. Even if she’s able to keep working, this is what she’ll be asked about in every interview forever. Even if she convinced people to genuinely listen to her, BoJack would, at worst, get a slap on the wrist as he stumbles back to his feet. We know that, WE ALL KNOW THAT, because it happens all. the. fucking. time. Gina did nothing wrong, but this would still define her for the rest of her life, while for BoJack, it would maybe become a footnote on his Wikipedia page.

Nothing about that is FAIR. Nothing about it is JUST. Gina’s choices shouldn’t have to be “this becomes my entire life” or “swallow this down and pretend it never happened”. But it is, as it has been in perpetuity for the victims of the privileged.

So then what can we do about it? Well that’s really the question, isn’t it? This episode answers it in an assortment of ways (I think the entire SHOW is very much about this, really, but this episode is for sure coming with guns blazing), while also showing us why none of those answers can work. It’s funny and sad and awful and true, but also, ultimately, the most hopeful answer because it’s the only one you can actually affect: It’s you. It’s me. It’s each and every one of us, individually, making a choice to be better.

And believe it or not, we embody this with Henry Fondle: Sex Robot.

I thought the whole thing was so unbelievably stupid. Half the season, we’ve had this goddamn multi-dildo’d juvenile frat boy joke running around with its stupid ass Speak-and-Say voice, doing the same shtick over and over, and I’m like, “okay this is just the shit I have to put up with to get the clever stuff, I guess.” BUT THAT’S EXACTLY THE POINT I’M SITTING THERE LIVING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN POINT AND MISSING IT. Henry Fondle: Sex Robot is seventeen shades of overt horribleness, AND WE ALL JUST GIVE IT A PASS. It’s just the way it is, the way the world works, the price of doing business. When the whole time -- THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME -- all it took was one person to say no. One person who could see the game we all are playing and was willing to give up everything to stop it.

Hilariously, Henry Fondle IS a metaphor, sort of, but of the saddest kind. He is literally a robot, he can’t possibly change. What’s more, media fervor will never affect him, fallout will never touch him, and the powerful will always rally around themselves to retain their power. It takes Todd, the head of the company, the creator of Henry Fondle, and the one person who would benefit most from the unending efforts of the rest of the world bending over backwards to avoid the truth, to put a stop to it. In doing so, he immediately returns to his old, homeless, destitute self, but doesn’t once hesitate or look back.

It’s Todd, and only Todd, that stops that madness, because while individual people are a problem, the world at large is too. Stefani makes a great point that Diane holds herself and everyone else to impossible standards and a little forgiveness and grace wouldn’t go amiss, but when Diane suggests they apply that philosophy to their clickbait gossipy shit on their website, it’s just

Which again, is beautifully cynical and depressing, but not untrue. Fostering a more forgiving culture isn’t in stopping websites from posting clickbaity takedown articles, it’s each person deciding not to take the clickbait. We can absolutely have a conversation about the people creating their world or the world creating its people, but when you boil it down, only one of those things can you yourself absolutely and directly change, and it’s not the entire world.

A THING DIANE GETS BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT.

I can’t take myself away from this Diane thing, I know, but only because she’s the fucking CORE of each and every one of us struggling with this idea. She’s the simplicity of it and the complication all in one. Not BoJack, which is NOT where I thought we’d be when we started this journey. BoJack is more an action on the people around him at this point in the story, he IS the world you cannot change. He’s pointed to rehab, and off he goes -- or doesn’t! I don’t think it’s coincidence that we stay with Diane and watch her watching him.

Oh, Diane, indeed. As she tells her story of her friend Abby, who threw her over for the cool kids, who turned every confidence into a scar. Who Diane still helped anyway, because Abby needed her. Did Abby learn from that, did she get better? We don’t know; we stay with Diane and watch her watching Abby. Diane, who can so completely understand about personal responsibility while failing to recognize her own enabling for the shitty things that keep happening to her.

You can control yourself. That’s it. That’s the only playground with a guarantee.

Will BoJack go off to learn that? Will Diane stay and figure it out?

THAT’S WHAT NEXT SEASON IS FOR

Something I was toying with including in this, but ultimately decided against for a variety of reasons, was the contrast between BoJack’s take on personal responsibility independent of external response, and The Good Place’s argument that people need external support for personal growth. An idea I may not have even considered contrasting save that Doc’s talked before about these two Jewish creators with what are clearly very different philosophies, and basically, if she were ever able to manage a discussion between them on this, I’d love to be in the room. I’ll be very quiet and not get in the way, I promise.

[jobrookekarev]

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back: Chapter Four

One Step Forward and Three Steps Back: Chapter Four

Chapter Four of Six

Words: 3486

Chapter Summary: Meredith arrives at the hospital and Stephanie tells Alex about Jo’s marriage to Paul. Later, when Paul wakes up, he tells a different story of what happened in the loft.

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past).

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, Paul Stadler, Meredith Grey, Nathan Riggs, Jackson Avery, Miranda Bailey, Ben Warren, and Isaac Cross.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault. Medical, Hospital, Police, and ER. 

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

Meredith walked into the Grey-Sloan’s ER with Richard by her side. She watched Bailey speaking with the police and security before she went over to the trauma rooms. She didn’t know exactly where Alex and Jo were, but the trauma rooms were her best bet. Jackson came out of trauma room two, pulling out a stretcher with Cross and Warren. The face of the man on the stretcher was black and blue as his eyes were swollen shut, and his nose was set. Jackson caught her eye and walked over to her.

“Is that him?” Meredith guessed as Cross took the man over to the elevators. 

“Alex called you?” Jackson asked, crossing his arms, knowing her answer. 

“Yeah, where are Jo and Alex?” Meredith said, looking over at the empty trauma room one.

“We’ve transferred Jo up to Pre-OP Alex and Stepahine are there with her. I’ll walk up with you. Riggs, can you scrub in with me on Jo’s surgery?” Jackson said as they all walked over to the elevator. 

“Yeah, of course,” Nathan said with a quick nod as they all followed Jackson.

“What happened,” Meredith demanded, putting her hand on Jackson’s arm to stop him. “Alex said that Jo was attached, but he was too distraught to say anything else.”

“Meredith, you know I can’t break HIPPA and tell you, as much as I want to,” Jackson said as he pressed the button for the elevator. 

“Do you need a general surgeon?” Webber asked as they got on the elevator. “You said you needed Cadro, so surely you must need a general surgeon as well.” 

Jackson hesitated, but Meredith glared at him and he knew Richard was right. 

“Okay fine,” Jackson said, pulling up Jo’s chart on the tablet and handing it over to her. Meredith quickly read over the chart and was shocked to see her injuries. Although they weren't extensive, they could have been. Meredith had seen injuries like this in car accidents or hangings, but never at the hands of another person. 

“Heart and lung functions look good, and it seems that there's good blood flow in both carotid arteries, and although she was responsive at the scene and in the ambulance. I want to do a Neuro check post-OP,” Nathan said, reading over the cardiologist report and looking at the MRI and CT results. “I also want to make sure that the swelling I saw on the scans doesn't extend further into her lungs.” 

“Which is why I asked you to scrub in with me. I'm about to do a rigid bronchoscopy to check her airway. Stephanie said that she could hardly pass the tube down when she first intubated Jo at the scene, and I suspect that I’ll have to do an airway stenting,” Jackson said as they stepped off the elevator and walked over to the pre-OP rooms. 

“I'm going to go get changed into scrubs and I'll meet you both in the OR,” Nathan said before he left, giving Meredith a nod. 

Meredith knew she should do the same, but she had to talk to Alex first. Three of them walked into pre-OP and Jackson led them past the other beds to a space that was closed off with curtains. He pulled it back to reveal Alex and Stephanie sitting at Jo's bedside. Jo was still unconscious and the bruises on Jo's neck made her pause. Meredith had watched Jo grow from a shy and unsteady intern to a confident and assertive resident. Seeing her unconscious on the bed was unsettling, especially given the circumstances.

“I'm going to go up to the OR and scrub in, but I'll tell the nurses to wait a few minutes before they bring her up. Do you have any more questions?” Jackson said, his voice soft as he spoke to them, putting his hand on Alex's shoulder.

Alex only shook his hand in a no as he continued to stare at Jo. Jackson left with Webber, leaving the three of them alone. Meredith came over and put her hand on Alex's shoulder, rubbing his back.

“Thanks for coming, Mere,” Alex said, glancing up at her, and Meredith frowned as they both looked down at Jo. 

“Jackson told us what happened and I'll be scrubbing in on the bronchoscopy to keep an eye on her,” Meredith reassured him. 

“Thank you,” Alex said as he grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“How did it happen?” Meredith asked, looking between Alex and Stephanie.

Stephanie cleared her throat and sat up straighter. She was holding Jo’s other hand and rubbing circles on the back of her hand with her thumb. 

“I met Jo at the bar earlier today. She was drunk, really drunk, so I took her back to the loft. Alex came back and the three of us fell asleep. I woke up to the plant breaking on the floor and I sat up and looked over to see that he was on top of her. He was choking her and digging his knee into her chest. Then Alex punched him and got him off of her. Jo was, she was awake, conscious, and moving around, but she couldn't breathe. I had to intubate her and we called for an ambulance to bring her here.” 

“Who was that guy that attacked her?” Alex said, looking up at Stephanie, Meredith could see the desperation in his eyes, and she watched Stephanie take a deep breath.

“Jo only told me about his existence a few hours ago and she didn’t tell me his name. She was drunk and I think that's the only reason she told me. Jo was crying, and she just said that he was physically abusive to her and that she ran away from him, but…” Stephanie paused as she was barely able to keep her voice from breaking as she spoke.

Stephanie trailed off as she looked between the two of them. She bit her lip as if she was still hesitant to spill all of Jo’s secrets, but given the current situation, Meredith knew they would all come out eventually. 

“Alex, she said that she was still married to him.”

“What?” Alex whispered in disbelief. 

“Jo said she was trying to divorce him. I don't know how. She must have a lawyer or something. She wanted to be with you, but she was afraid he wouldn't sign the papers or that he would, well, that he would do something like this,” Stephanie said as she looked down at Jo’s wrist and picked at the hospital ID bracelet. “She said that Josephine Wilson wasn't her real name. I think she changed it when she ran away from him so he couldn't find her.”

“That's why she said she couldn't marry me. That’s why she said no,” Alex said with wide eyes as he rubbed his hand over his jaw, looking away in shock. “This morning, I went back to the loft to get a few more pairs of clothes. Jo was there, and she told me that she was all in, that she loved me, and that we could be a family, but I didn't think that was enough. I told her I was done with drama, that I wanted her to be my wife, and the look on her face, I thought. When she said she couldn't marry me, I just thought she didn't want to. I didn't think it meant that she couldn't actually marry me. If I had known, I would have, I don't know, I just, I never would have forced her to divorce him if she didn’t want to. This is my fault. I pushed her to do this.”

“Alex,” Stephanie said, reaching out and putting her hand over his as they both held Jo’s hand. “You and I both know that Jo doesn't do anything she doesn't want to. If she started the divorce proceedings, it wasn't just because of you. It was because she wanted to divorce him.”

“But I gave her the ultimatum. I said be my wife, or I’d end things, but if I had known, I never would have said that. I should never have said that,” Alex said, shaking his head as he looked down at Jo. “Why didn't she tell me? I would have helped her. I would have protected her.”

“She knew that,” Stephanie stressed as he looked up at her. “But I think she was scared of him hurting you or something, and she said she had to do it on her own.”

Alex shook his head as he pulled Jo’s hand to his lips, kissing her hand before holding it against his cheeks as more tears streamed down his face. “I should have known. I never should have left her. I should have woken up earlier before he got there. I should have protected her.”

“You came back. If you weren't there, lord knows, I wouldn't have been able to stop him. You did protect her,” Stephanie whispered as they both stared down at Jo.

“Stephanie's right,” Meredith said, rubbing his shoulder. “You went back to her, you were there. You fought him off, you helped Stephanie save her. You brought her here, and you did everything right, Alex, and Jo knows that.”

“She's right, Alex. You saved her,” Stephanie said with a slight smile before she shook her head. “I thought I knew all Jo’s secrets after she told me about how she lived in her car as a teenager, but that was only part of the story.” 

This was news to Meredith, although it didn't surprise her, given what Alex had said about Jo's past. Alex hadn't shared much with her, other than she had it rough like he did as a foster kid. Meredith didn't push the details because, like Alex, Jo’s past was her own. She, of all people, knew how everyone deserved to have their secrets. 

“Yeah, I thought, I knew all of them too, but I get why she kept this from me,” Alex said as he reached down and put his hand on Jo’s head as he rubbed his thumb over her forehead. “For the longest time, I never told anyone about my Dad. Jo only found out about it because she showed up when I was taking a paternity test to be sure it was him. She took care of him when I couldn't. She was there for me, even when I didn't let her, but I wasn't there for her, but I promise you, Jo, I'm here for you now,” 

Alex said the last line only for her as he leaned down and kissed her forehead before closing his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together. 

Several of the nurses, including Bokhee, came over and pulled back the curtains. “They're ready for her in the OR.” 

“I'll walk up with her and change when I get there,” Meredith said, putting her purse and coat on a chair, knowing that they would watch over her stuff.

Alex nodded and brushed the hair away from Jo’s face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. His lips lingered on her skin and Stephanie looked away for a moment before he pulled back. Alex stepped back, finally letting go of Jo's hand and gently placing it on her stomach. Meredith remembered how Jo always wrapped her arm around Alex's neck. It was possessive and sweet, and every time Meredith watched them together, she knew they were meant to be. 

Meredith helped the nurses put up the railings and switch Jo to manual intubation as they took off the brakes. She stood at the side of the bed next to Bokhee and pushed the bed forward. As they pushed open the doors out of pre-OP, she took one last look at Alex. He stood there waiting for them as another nurse directed him and Stephanie towards the waiting room. Alex just stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring at Jo. Meredith knew that it would break him if anything happened to Jo, and she was determined to watch over her and make sure that never happened.

……………………………………………………………………

The nurse took them to the waiting room, but Alex barely registered what was going on around him. He had barely had any time to process the fact that Jo was married and that she was getting a divorce. He could hardly believe it. All he could think about was the image of Jo lying on the ground with him on top of her. He could still remember the way she gasped for air before Stephanie intubated her and how fragile she looked on the hospital bed as they wheeled her into surgery.

“Dr. Karev, Dr. Karev?” 

Alex looked up from where he was staring at the floor to the black female officer standing before him before he looked over at Stephanie, who was seated next to him, holding Meredith’s things that he had forgotten. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

“It's alright,” the officer said, giving a slight smile as she sat down in front of him on the coffee table. “My name is Officer Tatum, and I've been dispatched by the detectives to take your statements. Could you please tell me what happened tonight?” 

Alex nodded, and he and Stephanie did their best to give a detailed statement to the officer as visions of what happened flashed in his head. To be honest, from the moment he saw Jo on the floor to ending up in the hospital, it was all just a blur. Luckily for him, Stephanie seemed to remember most of it and was able to give the officer everything she needed

“Thank you,” Officer Tatum said as she finished writing. “I have a few questions for you both, if you don't mind?”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex said, not entirely sure that he had a choice anyway. 

“Do you know why Dr. Wilson was attacked in your apartment tonight? We have reason to believe that Dr. Wilson let her attacker into your apartment as the door was open, and there was no sign of forced entry,” Officer Tatum said, looking between the two of them before her eyes settled on Alex.

“Yes,” Stephanie said before Alex could even think of an answer. “Jo said that he was her abusive husband. She mentioned that she ran away from him a few years ago and told me about some of the abuse she endured when they were together. She also mentioned that she was in the process of divorcing him.” 

“Did Dr. Wilson tell this to you?”

“Yes, she told me about her husband and the abuse, and after he attacked her, I asked her if it was him, and she nodded yes.” 

“Okay,” Officer Tatum said, writing everything down before she looked back at them again. “And what kind of abuse did Dr. Wilson alleged happened?”

“She said it was physical. That he would hit her and that's why she ran away from him.”

“And what did Dr. Wilson tell you about her divorce proceedings?”

“Nothing other than the fact that she was divorcing him. I asked if she had a restraining order against him, but she didn't answer.”

Officer Tatum just nodded as she continued to write everything down. “Do you happen to know Dr. Wilson's husband’s name?”

“No, actually, we don't even know Jo's married name. She said she changed it when she ran away,” Stephanie said with a shrug and she shook her head.

Alex just kind of watched the exchange happen. He was still trying to process everything. The fact that Jo was married, that her abusive ex-husband had shown up, and that he tried to kill her. 

“Okay, is there any other relevant information that I should know, such as Dr. Wilson’s lawyer's information or other documents she kept from her marriage or proof of the abuse?”

Stephanie stayed silent and it took Alex a moment to realize that they were both staring at him. “Um, no, I didn't know, maybe, I didn’t even know she was married until tonight.”

“So for five years, you had no idea that the woman you've been dating, your friend, was married?” Officer Tatum asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

“No,” Alex said as he looked over at Stephanie, who just looked as floored as he was. He could hardly believe it himself.

Officer Tatum softened as she took in their expression before she closed her notebook. “One last thing Dr. Karev, do the detectives have permission to search your apartment?”

“Um, yeah, but what for?”

“We’ll be searching for any information that can link Dr. Wilson to her husband, the man who attacked her. I'm sure that Dr. Wilson will make a statement and clear everything up when she's out of surgery, but in the meantime, We'd like to contact our own investigation in hopes that we can shed more light on the situation.”

“Okay,” Alex said as he nodded. He could tell that the detectives didn't quite believe their story, but he knew that the truth would out. It always did. 

Officer Tatum returned his nod and handed him her business card before she left him and Stephanie alone in the waiting room. Alex looked up at the clock as he calculated how much time passed and how much longer Jo would be in surgery. Then he sat and waited as he processed the events of the night.

……………………………………………………………………

“What kind of person does this to Jo? She's so sweet and her hair is so nice. Who would want to hurt her?” Cross asked as he sat staring at the unconscious man on the gurney after they settled him in Pre-OP, waiting for Jackson to call them up after he was done with Jo’s surgery.

“I don't know,” Ben said as he finished up the paperwork, shaking his head. He still didn’t know what happened but, Cross was right. Jo didn’t deserve this. “According to his wallet. It says that his name is Paul Stadler. His business card says he’s a doctor at Orlando Medical.”

“Orlando, that's weird. Jo never mentioned anything about Florida,” Cross said before jumping away from Paul. “He just moved.”

“Yeah, it looks like he's waking up,” Ben said as he walked over to the bed. 

Paul Stadler turned his head back and forth as he opened his eyes. He squinted in the harsh light before he looked over at Ben. He tried to move his hands but couldn't because of the restraints. “Where am I? What, what's going on?” 

“Mr. Stadler, don't try and move. You’re at Grey-Sloan Memorial,” Ben said, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to stop jerking at his restraints. “Cross, go get Bailey and the police.”

Cross nodded before quickly running out of the room. 

“The police?” Paul asked, looking confused before his eyes went wide and he looked over at Ben. “Yes, please get the police, and please tell me, is Brooke okay? I think she said she goes by another name now, maybe Josephine?”

“You're talking about Jo? The woman you beat up? I can't disclose her personal medical information, but I can tell you that she's pressing charges.” Ben said, glaring at him. Even if it wasn’t fully true, Ben wanted him to know that he wasn’t getting away with this.

“What, what are you talking about?” Paul asked, looking confused. “Why would Brooke press charges against me when I was trying to help her?”

“Look whenever you say went on…” Ben started to say, but Paul cut him off.

“No, you have to believe me. Look, I know we’ve been separated, but I got a call from Brooke last night out of the blue. She was crying and she said she was scared. She said that her boyfriend was hurting her and so I rushed over to her place. When I got there, I found him on top of her. I pulled him off and then he punched me. I guess her other friend woke up or something. I don't remember but, I remember this guy with a scruffy beard and a gray shirt. He was on top of her.”

Ben shook his head, of course, he didn't believe Paul's story about Alex. He was occasionally volatile, yes, but he would never hurt Jo.

“You have to believe me. I would never lay a hand on my wife?”

“Your wife?” Ben asked, his eyes going wide as he stepped back. 

“Yes, I have a picture of her in my wallet. It's from our wedding day, please just look at it. You have to believe me,” Paul begged him, looking into Ben's eyes. 

Ben narrowed his eyes at him, but stepped back and turned around. He opened Paul's wallet and looked through it until he found the photo tucked in one of the cardholders. Sure enough, there was Paul and Jo, pressed up against each other with happy smiles. Jo in a white dress with a bouquet and Paul and a pristine suit. Behind it was an ID with Jo’s picture with the name Brooke Stadler, meaning he wasn’t lying. They were married.

“Please, I would never hurt your wife. You have to believe me,” Paul said as Ben looked back at him. He had to tell Miranda.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Dark Roads

Summary: The reader and Jensen are up in Vancouver doing some work for the brewery and Jensen has an audition to attend to. After the work day is over though, Jensen decides to surprise the reader with a mini-vacation with plenty of fun before they head home. But not all surprises are good and not all nights end well...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Square: Domestic!AU

Word Count: 10,100ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much angst), fluff

A/N: This part takes place after the Christmas Vacation timestamp. Enjoy! Don’t hate me!

A/N #2: Also written for @spndeanbingo​

________

“So, what do you think?” asked the man in the suit on the other side of the conference table. You looked to your left, your dad looking over at you.

“It is a good offer, Mr. Hamilton, but unfortunately we can’t accept,” you said. He balked at you before looking over to your dad.

“She’s the boss, not me,” he said. “It doesn’t sound like we have a deal.”

“Mr. Ackles-”

“Are you disrespecting her because she’s a woman or my child? I’m not quite sure which one it is,” said your dad with a smile. The man’s face went blank and you kept a smirk off your own. “I am here as an owner. If this is how your grocery store deals with heads of distribution for breweries then I’ll tell you right now, never call us again,” said your dad. You gathered up your papers and slid them back in your portfolio, the man taking a deep breath.

“What if we did 5% better than the number on that page?” he asked.

“No,” you said, your dad echoing the sentiment. 

“That’s an amazing deal,” he said as he stood up. You clenched your jaw and shoved your portfolio in your bag as your dad leaned back in his seat.

“Actually, Mr. Hamilton, it’s not. You offered the least desirable shelf space, a very small amount of shelf space at that, placement in your outer region stores, not in the city or suburbs surrounding Vancouver, and you wanted an absurd percent of profits. People in this area want our products and we are more than happy to find a seller that suits our needs,” you said. You nodded and your dad stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hamilton.”

Mr. Hamilton grumbled as you walked out of the conference room, your dad smiling wide as you walked through the hall.

“Alright. I’m impressed. You more than earned that promotion,” he said. 

“Negotiating distribution deals is strangely a lot like college,” you said. “But easier.”

“These guys weren’t even your first choice,” he said once you were in the elevator alone.

“Nope but they didn’t need to know that,” you said. “I wanted the other deal as soon as I saw it.”

“Well let’s send it out to the lawyer to review and then we can sign the paperwork,” he said.

“I already did,” you said with a smile. 

“You did huh. What if I wanted to go with this guy?” he asked.

“You may be the head owner but I’m head of distribution. I want your input but if you’re going to second guess me, I don’t want that job. I told you that when you gave it to me,” you said. He nodded and leaned back against the wall. “What?”

“S’nice to see you confident is all,” he said. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I really don’t. I just kinda try my best and hope it works out,” you said.

“Pretty much the definition of being an adult,” he chuckled.

“Does that feeling ever go away?” you asked.

“Well, I’m fifty one and I don’t feel much different than a twenty year old kid if I’m being honest. You learn not to sweat the small stuff as much I suppose but not really,” he said. 

“Like you getting gray hair,” you smirked. You earned a headlock for that comment, your dad only releasing you from your noogie when you got to the lobby. “Hey, at least you have hair still!”

“You are being such a little shit,” he laughed.

“I won’t tell anyone you dye it,” you said, humming as you headed for the exit.

“I do not! It’s a few specks and that’s it. Plus mom thinks it’s hot so I see no problems with it,” he said, pulling you into another noogie once you were outside. You fixed your hair, getting a peck on the temple. “Alright, alright. I got my audition I have to run to. You want to head back to the hotel and change and I can meet you back there later before I take you out for dinner?”

“Actually, could I go with you? I’ve never seen one of those,” you said. He winced and cocked his head. “I can go somewhere else, that’s-”

“It’s not a problem, munchkin. It’s just...it’s kind of an intense audition. It’s a drama. It’s a pretty dark scene,” he said.

“I’ve seen all of Supernatural though and the movie. I even read the other movie I wasn’t supposed to know about yet and that one goes way dark,” you said. He bit his bottom lip and you smiled. “It’s cool dad. You need to do your audition thing anyways.”

“You sure?” he asked. “If you want to-”

“Probably a better idea for me to wait until the movie,” you said. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel then?”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

“So how’d it go?” you asked when your dad walked in the hotel room three hours later. He sighed and you frowned. “You didn’t get it?”

“Oh, I got it,” he said, plopping down in the chair. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I turned it down though, took a different part in the movie.”

“But why would you turn down the lead?” you asked. 

“You know how I said it’s supposed to be dark? But there’s that bit of love story?” he asked.

“Yeah. That’s what was cool to you about it you said.”

“Yeah. I met the lead actress who would be my romantic interest,” he said. 

“She not so great?”

“She was very lovely,” he said. “She’s also nineteen years old.”

“So...thirty two years age difference?” you said with a wince as he nodded. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

“Hollywood is...I am very happy you never wanted to be an actress, let’s put it that way,” he said. “Now I’m playing her dad in the movie. I would have walked completely but my manager is gonna kill me as is for walking from a lead roll,” he said.

“Do you really need it though?” you asked.

“No. I wanted to try out something new and interesting though,” he said. “That story was different.”

“Yeah but I see red flags all over it. Who’s even the target audience besides pervy old guys?” you asked. He laughed and nodded, getting to his feet.

“You have a very good point,” he said. “Besides, I got another album I want to work on in the meantime and there’s plenty of other stories out there.”

“Told you so,” you said. “Now where are we going for dinner cause last time it was that really fancy steakhouse downtown and-”

“Pack up your bag and we’ll head up,” he said with a smirk. You narrowed your eyes and he padded into the bathroom. “Oh, we’re staying somewhere else tonight. Maybe we can go visit the canyon-”

“I love the canyon park!” you said, hopping up from the bed. “Are the winter lights still up?”

“Yes,” he said with a big smile. “We got a three hour drive up there and then we’re gonna have a nice dinner and then we can go check it out before we fly home tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like, really nice. What’s the occasion?” you asked. 

“No occasion other than to see you get all excited,” he said. “You know mom and your brother are off having a fun little weekend together while your sisters drive TJ insane. I figured we could have one night of fun.”

“Are you kidding me? They love him. He texted me that they ordered a pizza each for themselves for dinner,” you said. “They were gonna stay up late and watch rom coms apparently.”

“You found a pretty good guy,” he chuckled, as he walked back out of the bathroom and stuck his small bag in his backpack. You gave him a quick smile and nod, your dad returning it. “You two doing good?”

“Yeah. I just…” you said, starting to pack up. “I don’t know.”

“Something going on?” he asked. You shrugged and put your heels in your suitcase. “Y/N.”

“You know how his parents were in town last week?” you asked. He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Well, Allie was doing something she wasn’t supposed to and his dad was watching her and so we said timeout time was what we do and everything was going fine and then she comes running in from the playroom crying cause he’d tried spanking her.”

“TJ doesn’t strike me as the kind of parent that would be okay with spanking. It doesn’t do any good,” he said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t just spanking. It was you know...old school spanking,” you said.

“With…” he said, pointing at his belt. You nodded and he rolled his eyes. “No offense but his father is a fucking idiot. I’ve always thought so.”

“Well, if you thought I was pissed, you should have seen TJ. I’ve never seen him that angry before. He got in a huge shouting match with his dad. I took the kids outside to the park and then his parents were gone by the time we got back. They’re not speaking at the moment,” you said. “I was just...why doesn’t his dad just talk to him? Talk to his grandkids? I know you guys would never do something like that and...I just don’t understand some men and their need to be the tough guy and the asshole all the time.”

“You grew up with a couple of those yourself,” he said. You finished with your clothes and gave him a glance before he grabbed some more relaxing clothes to change into. “If I knew why, I would tell you. Strength doesn’t belong to men and emotions don’t belong to women. I pity anyone who thinks experiencing their life fully is weakness.”

“Mom told me once, when I first came to the house that you were a bit closed off when you were younger,” you said.

“I was. In a way I still am. I always will be. I’m like you in that way. I always felt things but it’s scarier to show it. You feel like you have to be strong, you don’t want to bother other people, you think it goes away on it’s own,” he said. “Then you fall in love and then you have children and you realize there is nothing more badass than playing princesses with your daughter and knowing that you are part of the reason why she has pure happiness at that moment. I only ever wanted my family to felt the love that I did. It’s a pretty decent way to live. If somebody out there doesn’t think I’m man enough, that’s their problem, not mine.”

“TJ thinks of you as his real dad, you know. He says you’ve never put him down or belittled him. He’s never questioned what you think of him.”

“Why would I hurt some innocent kid, especially one that’s one of mine?” he asked. “You know better than anyone, kiddo, blood doesn’t make you family.”

“No, it doesn’t. Go change so we can get on the road. I’m starving already.”

“Did you get lost?” you asked two and a half hours later as your dad drove the SUV he’d rented for the weekend.

“No, I’m not lost. The hotel is just a few miles up the road I think,” he said. You stared out the dark window, rain coming down hard on the January night.

“If you tell me the name I can-” you said, a hand reaching out in front of you before you crashed head on into something. You suspected the SUV had flipped but it was too hard to tell, especially once you hit your head on something and went out cold.

You woke up a few seconds later, gaining your bearings, turning to your right and finding your dad upside down and covered in blood.

“Dad,” you said, undoing your seatbelt. You shoved on him but he was still, his jacket turning a crimson color. “No, no, no.”

You dropped down and undid his seatbelt too, catching him as he slipped. You kicked away the glass in the broken windshield and dragged him outside into the rain. You felt pain in your back but ignored it and got him out where you could see in the headlights. You glanced past the truck and saw what looked like a dead moose in the middle of the road.

“Dad,” you said, laying him down. He had a cut on his head in his hair, his chest was soaked  and his left leg looked funny. You tugged up his shirt and got a face full of blood for it, falling backwards and wiping it away.

You stared at him before you put a shaky hand against his neck. There wasn’t anything there and you moved your fingers again, over and over and over.

“Dad, no,” you said, shaking him, unable to find a pulse. “You promised me. You don’t…”

He didn’t move and you sat back on your heels, looking around for help but there were no other cars, nothing around but trees and a wet road. You reached a hand into your pocket for your phone but it was shattered, pieces of metal and glass falling out. You found his in his back pocket but it was broken and wouldn’t turn on.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, throwing the phone against the truck. “No! You don’t get to die! You don’t die...you promised. Dad, you promised. You said 102. I can’t...I can’t, please I can’t. Please wake up. Please, please, please, dad. Please. I love you. You can’t go yet. Please, daddy, please, wake up.”

You tried for a pulse again but there was nothing and the rain was beginning to stain the ground pink. You stared at it long enough for your stomach to swirl. You ran over to the side of the road and threw up, slowly coming back before you fell down to your knees. You looked at him, a heaving sob leaving you as you clenched your fists.

“What did I ever do to you?” you shouted at the dark sky. “What did I do to you! Stop killing my parents! I never did anything wrong! Why do you keep hurting them! Why!”

You turned to your dad and you could barely see you were crying so hard. 

“Wake up,” you said. He was motionless and you took your fist, beating on his chest hard. “I said wake up!”

You slammed it down again, over and over until your hand was throbbing but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for him to be okay.

“WAKE UP!” you screamed, bringing your fist down hard.

“Y/N!” he said as he shot up, gasping for air before he plopped back down. You scurried next to him, your dad taking a few deep breaths as he looked up at you. “You okay, tall munchkin?”

“I’m fine,” you said, putting a hand on his head. “Dad, don’t move. You’re really hurt.”

“I feel really hurt so can do,” he said, shutting his eyes.

“Stay awake!” you shouted, his eyes flying open. 

“No closing eyes, understood,” he said. You squeezed yours shut and took off your jacket, shaking the phone piece away before you balled the thing up and pressed it against his stomach. You threw his hands over top of it, and took off your flannel, folding it up and tying it around his leg. You sat back at his head again, taking over for putting pressure on his stomach. “Y/N, look at me.”

You glanced down, finding a look on his face you’d not seen since he found you on the highway, walking in the rain the night of your seventeenth birthday.

He was afraid.

“Did you think I died?” he asked. You couldn’t speak but nodded, trying to stop the tears that were mixing in with the rain. “Oh, honey. Honey, I’m okay. Dad’s okay.”

“You didn’t have a pulse,” you choked out. “And our phones are broken and there’s no one out here and you can’t move and now I have to watch you die.”

You cried hard, sobbing as you tried to get a hold on the bleeding. 

“You’re hurt,” he said, a stray finger tracing over a cut on your arm.

“I don’t care!” you shouted. “I can’t fix this. I don’t want to watch my dad die again. Don’t make me do that again, please, dad, please.”

“Y/N, breathe, kiddo,” he said when you felt yourself gasping for air. You shook your head and felt him reach a shaky hand up and wipe off your face. “Honey, it’s gonna be okay. No matter what happens.”

“I don’t want to be alone again. Don’t leave me here by myself,” you said.

“I’m gonna do my best,” he said but he was looking even paler and you winced. “But you’re a smart girl. You’re an amazing young woman and I know you don’t want to hear this right now but I don’t...I don’t feel right inside and I don’t think...I don’t want to die, munchkin. I’m not done with you yet either. But odds are, I’m not making it off this road and if that happens, you’re gonna promise me you’re gonna go be happy and have a really great life and I’m gonna be upstairs watching your back okay?”

You nodded, not even bothering trying to not cry anymore.

“I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I’m really happy we got to a place where I know you love me back just as much. Oh, and there’s boxes in the storage container for all you guys. Letters. There’s one for this too. Just read it. It’s gonna sound a hell of a lot better than whatever this blubbering mess is.”

“Stop crying,” you said to him.

“Can’t really help it at the moment,” he said, pursing his lips. 

“Can I make you feel better?” you asked quietly.

“Just stay...maybe don’t tell mom about the crying,” he said with a laugh and a wince.

“Okay,” you said. You took a deep breath, spotting your purse nearby. You stared at him and back at the bag.

“What?” 

“How much do you trust me?” you asked.

“With my life,” he said. 

“Hold this,” you said. You put his hands on your jacket again, feeling him put less pressure than before. You reached over and grabbed your purse, dumping it on the ground and picking up your hand sanitizer. You squeezed it all over your hands and rubbed them together, taking a deep breath. You moved his hands away and took a deep breath. You grabbed your hat from your bag on the ground nearby and rolled it up, shoving it in his mouth. “Whatever I do, don’t yank my hand away, okay?”

He nodded and saw you peel the jacket back quick to get a look.

“I really hope you pass out from this,” you said. He gave you a thumbs up and squeezed his eyes shut before you moved the jacket away and shoved your fingers into the tear in his torso. He shouted into the hat, your fingers trying to find the spot inside that was gushing the blood out. You shuddered when the sound escaping him turned into some kind of scream you were positive he shouldn’t have been capable of making. The hat fell out of his mouth and he threw his head back, squirming as he grabbed your arm.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You’re gonna die right here if we don’t stop the bleeding right now.”

“Stop!” he shouted, body tensing up, his voice quiet. “Please, stop. Please, Y/N.”

“Almost,” you said, his hand tightening around your wrist but never pulling away. You felt something different inside and pinched with your fingertips, your dad trying to get away from it. You peeled up the jacket from around your hand and saw the blood was much slower, stopping to a trickle eventually. “Hey! I think I stopped it!”

“Great,” he winced, slamming his hand against the pavement. “Everything in me wants to just rip your hand out of my insides. God, you have no idea how badly I want to do that right now.”

“S’kinda how period cramps feel,” you said. “This is a little more extreme though.”

“I would hope so,” he said. You leaned over and looked at his leg but it looked decent for the moment. “So, we’re just gonna sit here then until a car comes.”

“I think that’s the plan considering either of us moves and you’re dead,” you said. 

“Okay. Good plan,” he said. He rested his hand on your arm and pushed up your short sleeve. “Is you shoulder dislocated?”

“Yeah,” you said. He frowned and you laughed. “Dad, I’ll live.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah but you’re way worse so I’m in charge. It’s pain. I’ve dealt with it before. I can deal with it now,” you said. He leaned his head back against the pavement, looking up at the sky. “Don’t go and die on me now.”

“I’m okay. The searing pain is keeping me awake,” he said. You looked around for a car but saw no headlights in either direction. “If a car doesn’t come, it’s okay, munchkin. You’re giving me a shot I shouldn’t have right now.”

“I’m not letting go until I pass out or you’re...a car will come,” you said. 

“Honey, be realistic. I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he said. “Odds-”

“I get it. You’re very likely going to die. Now stop talking like that and tell me you’re gonna be fine,” you said. 

“I’m gonna be alright,” he said with a smile. “So. Anything on your mind you want to talk about?”

“I wish I went to med school but no, not really,” you said. He chuckled, shivering a bit when he stopped. You leaned over top of him, the rain hitting your back and giving him some relief from it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“Are you always this grumpy when someone tries to take care of you?” you asked. 

“Quite possibly,” he said. “Well, while I have you as a captive audience, I might as well tell you now.”

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“I had no idea what I was doing most of the time when it came to you. We made it up as we went,” he said.

“You knew exactly what to do,” you said. 

“I slept outside your room once. I was afraid you’d try running away again,” he said. 

“Dad.”

“I didn’t even want this many kids and then we had the three and it was all good. You were never in the picture,” he said.

“Why did you want to adopt?” you asked. You were freezing and hiding the shake in your body, your dad not looking so hot himself. 

“There was this young guy at the brewery at the time. He went on and became a lawyer I think. He um, we were talking one day and he told me he grew up in foster care during his teenage years. I got the jist that it really sucked. It wasn’t really even that big of a deal and I thought it over at home that night and I looked around the house and thought, we got the space. We have the means. We could do something good,” he said. “It was just an idea for a while and then one day I said to De, let’s do this and that’s how we started.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said. 

“Me too,” he said. He pushed up the back of your shirt and you knew he saw the blood you felt there. “Let me see.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said, twisting your body farther away. 

“You need to get help for yourself,” he said. You shook your head and he scoffed. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Make me. Oh wait, you can’t.”

“I know I can’t,” he grit out. “If something happens to you because you were trying to save me, I can’t live with that.”

“It’s a cut! I have lots of cuts and my shoulder is killing me and I know I have a concussion and my whole body hurts and I’m freezing but it doesn’t matter. Why do you not-”

“If you were where I am right now and Allie or Colin was hurt, more hurt than they’re letting on, barely keeping you alive, you think you’d tell them to save you over themselves?”

“No,” you said quietly.

“Then you know exactly why.”

“But I’m not a parent right now. I’m the kid in this situation and I am terrified. I feel like that ten year old girl that watched her parents die slow and in pain and she couldn’t help them. All I did was get bigger. I didn’t learn a damn thing in case it happened again,” you said.

“Y/N. I’m alive right now because you are saving my life. You pulled me out, you got me breathing again, you wrapped up my leg and you quite literally have your hand inside of me piecing me together. You’re doing all of this in the middle of winter, trying to keep me warm and getting hypothermia yourself, pushing through wanting to fall apart all while you are very, very hurt. You want to know what you learned?”

“What?” you breathed out.

“Even if it’s hard and it hurts, you don’t give up. What have I always said? Just try for me. It’s all I wanted. I am more than okay if this is it for me because right now, when it’s probably the hardest it’s ever been for us, you’re trying. You’re trying harder than I’ve ever seen you and that’s all you gotta do the rest of your life. Just try and it’ll work out how it’s supposed to.”

“You’re not supposed to die,” you said. Your head got dizzy and your stomach churned, your dad staring up at you. “I’m gonna throw up.”

You turned your head away quickly, avoiding him and getting the pavement beside you. Thankfully most of it was clear after you’d emptied your stomach before.

“Concussion,” he said as you got your bearings back and took the brunt of the rain again. “Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

“I think you’re in shock.”

“Probably but you’re in it too,” you said. You were shivering harder now and you saw your arm start to shake. You grabbed it with your free hand, steadying it as best you could.

“Get in the car.”

“No.”

“You’re going to freeze and go into shock if you don’t get out of the rain. Get in the car.”

“No.”

“Get in the damn car!”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you said, his face in a scowl. “I’m not leaving, you goddamn idiot. I never was. Get that through your thick fucking skull!”

“Why won’t you get in the fucking car!” he shouted. “You fucking little shit, just get in the car. Don’t make me beg you. Get in the car. Please get in the car!”

“No. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not saving myself. I’m not and you can barely lift a finger. You don’t get to choose. I do.”

“You’re going into shock. You’re gonna die if you don’t get warm right now. Get in the car,” he said, closing his eyes. “Please, tall munchkin. Please. I can’t watch you die either. It’s not how it works. Don’t make me watch that.”

“Yet it’s perfectly fine for me to have to?”

“Because kids are stronger than their parents you dumbass,” he said. “Go. Please. You did your best. You still saved me. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because I was the person screaming and shouting on the side of the road on a cold rainy night once. I was the person that pushed and pushed and tried so hard to get you to go away. But you wouldn’t give up on me. You were never going to give up on me. It’s a decade later and now it’s your turn to learn that I was never walking away from you either. I don’t care what you want. I don’t care if this is scary for you. I was terrified of you and I believed you. For a split second I let myself believe you and that was the start for me. So you can be as scared as you need to be because I’m not giving up on you. Trust me. Please.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding his head. He was silent for a beat, nothing but sniffles in the air. “I’m gonna wait as long as I can but the next time I ask you to get in the car, will you get in there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“I don’t know,” you said. 

“S’okay.”

He gave you a smile and you tried to return it, focusing on keeping your fingers clamped tight around the artery. 

“I wrote you a song,” he said. “It was gonna be on the album.”

“You want to sing it?” you asked, another round of tears hitting you.

“I’m getting kinda of tired, kiddo,” he said, closing his eyes again. 

“Dad,” you said, a light flickering off the pavement. You looked behind you and saw headlights headed your direction. “Dad! There’s a car!”

“Love you,” he mumbled. 

“No, you don’t,” you said, pinching his insides tighter, getting a small wince from him. “Awake.”

“Trying to,” he mumbled again. You heard the vehicle slow down and drive around the moose, stopping when it saw you. Someone got out of the pickup, another door opening up.

“Shit,” said the one guy, running over to you. He looked at you and your dad, staring at your hand. “Okay, there’s a hospital like five minutes from here. Tony! Get my snowboard!”

The other guy grabbed a board from the back of the pickup, rushing over with it. You got what he had in mind and moved aside as best you could, the two men rolling your dad on top of it to use as a makeshift stretcher.

“Up on 3. 1, 2, 3,” said the first guy. You groaned as you stood up, your back killing you but they were walking to the back of the truck bed, having you carefully climb up as they pushed him in. Tony climbed in the back with you before the other guy got behind the wheel and took off.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Not really,” you said, Tony holding the board from moving as best he could.

“I’m Tony. That’s Ray. That your dad?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m Y/N. Please tell your friend to hurry.”

“Ray! Floor it!” he said through the back window. The truck went far faster than it should have been going but soon you saw lights and civilization again, the truck fishtailing around into a parking lot. Your dad grunted which you took as a good sign.

“We need help right now!” said Ray as he ran out of the truck and over to an entrance. A few people in scrubs came rushing out with a stretcher, Tony jumping out of the way as they got a backboard under your dad. 

“You need to move, sweetie,” said a doctor but his eyes quickly went down to your hand and back up. “Get on.”

“What?” you asked.

“Straddle and get on the board,” he said. You climbed over top of your dad, someone holding your shoulders and making you yelp as you were moved backwards onto a stretcher.

“What happened?” asked a nurse as you were pushed inside. 

“We hit a moose,” you said, nearly throwing up again when you saw him in the light of the building. He was covered in blood and you caught your reflection in the glass, sporting a similar look. “He was out cold for a while. I couldn’t find a pulse so I hit his chest real hard and he popped up. I think his leg is broken and he had a cut on the side of his head and his torso was gushing and he lost a lot of blood, like a lot, and I couldn’t stop it so I shoved my hand inside and that was kind of working but he’s not talking anymore.”

“Okay, people let’s focus on that torso and get some blood in our friend here. What’s his name, sweetie?” asked the doctor in charge.

“Is that Jensen Ackles?” asked one of the nurses. You nodded and she dropped her jaw. “Oh my God. You’re Y/N. That’s his daughter.”

“Okay, Y/N,” said the doctor as someone wrapped you up in the world’s warmest blanket. You sighed and smiled for a brief moment, the doctor snapping his fingers. “Y/N, I need you to pay very special attention to me.”

“Okay,” you said, the blanket peeled away as someone started cutting off your shirt. “Excuse me. Buy me dinner first.”

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” said the doctor, your eyes going to a bag of blood flowing into your dad. “Whatever you do, do not unclamp your fingers inside of him, understand? I bet it’s getting painful and you might start cramping. You gotta hold on a little while longer for us, okay?”

“Not a problem,” you said. You felt a table be moved behind you and you were guided to kneel back on it. They started cutting off your dad’s clothes and you shut your eyes. “A little warning would be nice.”

“Keep ‘em closed,” he said. You were too worried to notice much when you felt your own clothes go, a gown tugged and buttoned on you. “Alright.”

You opened your eyes, a blanket over your dad’s lap. The main doctor examined the wound your hand was in, some other ones looking at his leg and head. You saw your dad flutter open his eyeballs, jerking his whole body when he looked around.

“Jensen. I’m Dr. Bradwick. You were in an accident. Your daughter, Y/N, is right here with us and she’s helping us help you right now so let’s keep the moving to a minimum and he’s out again,” said the doctor, your dad’s eyes closing once more. “Y/N, climb back on if you’re able to. I want a scan and then send these two up to the OR. Y/N, you’re going to have to go into the operating room like this and when the surgeon tells you to remove your hand, that’s when you do it, not a second before, understand?”

“Yes,” you said.

“You have some extensive injuries yourself. You’re in shock right now which is why you’re not feeling them. Your shoulder is dislocated, you’ve suffered blood loss yourself and have signs of a high grade concussion. When you let go, you’re going to get put back on a stretcher and then we’re going to take you for a few scans yourself, alright?”

“Is he gonna die?” you asked, wrapped up in the warm blanket once again, one tossed over the bottom half of your dad. 

“We’ll do our best,” he said. You nodded and after a few bandages were slapped on the two of you, you went down a few hallways, someone on either side of you keeping you steady. The shakes in your body were dying down as you warmed up some and you took your hand away from your wrist and gave one of your dad’s a squeeze.

It was small but you felt a finger move slightly.

You smiled to yourself as the blankets were taken away and someone put a big lead vest on you, covering most of your body and neck. You heard a buzzing and they took a picture of his torso, taking a few more of his leg and head too before you felt one of your shoulder be done.

“Alright, let’s send these two up,” said a nurse that stepped out. Five minutes later you were sat in the middle of an OR, people hooking up leads and things to your dad as he got more fresh blood in him. He was pale still and you squeezed his hand, not feeling any response. You scrunched up your face but a nurse directed you to look at a monitor. His heart rate and breathing were slow but they were still there.

“Good evening, everybody,” said a woman in a pair of dark blue scrubs. A pair of gloves were snapped on her and she smiled as she walked over. “Nice, cold, gloomy night out. So you must be the smart cookie, Y/N. I’m Dr. Bradwick.”

“I thought he was downstairs,” you said as she went over to a set of scans on the wall and started looking them over.

“That’s my husband,” she said with a hum. “Freddie, how’s the leg look?”

“Clean break,” said a younger man in light blue scrubs. “Needs to be set, a think a few pins and a stitch will do.”

“I agree. Bleeding?” she asked.

“Under control,” he said.

“Good. Once we have Jensen’s torso available, you can take lead on fixing the leg,” she said. “Head wound is superficial. We have a severed artery, right side of body. Let’s open, clamp what we can and then give Y/N’s hand a break,” she said. She wandered back over to the operating table, examining the wound. “Did you have any hand injuries?”

“Scratches was all. I put hand sanitizer on first if that helps,” you said.

“It actually does some. Y/N, you’re gonna sit right there until I tell you otherwise, alright? It’s probably gonna be a little bit longer but hopefully we can get your dad feeling better,” she said. “Let’s put him under.”

“What are his odds?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“The amount of time you’ve been holding him together, the previous blood loss, the lack of blood flow...real talk, it really depends on how much of a mess he is in there and how much he fights for it. He’s in the beginning stages of hypothermia which may hurt him or may help him. The human body is tricky. We will do what we can but I can’t guarantee he gets up from this table. He’s still awake. If you want to say anything before he goes under, say it now,” she said.

“Remember when I said I didn’t want a dad? But I’d take a Jensen? I wanted one. I was afraid. But then I wasn’t, because I tried, for you and for me. If you can’t do this dad, it’s okay. If I don’t, if I don’t talk to you for a really, really long time again or ever again, it’s okay. All you have to do right now is try. Just try to stick around as hard as you can. I love you,” you said. The room was quiet and you sniffled, giving the doctor a nod.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Twenty minutes later your hand was shaking, cramps rippling through it, the doctor giving you a sideways glance.

“Y/N. In a moment I’m going to have you release your hand,” she said. “When that happens, I want you to remove your hand as quickly but gently as you can. Don’t touch any of the other clamps. Owen and Derren here are then going to move you onto the table right by my right side. They’re going to move you away quickly and then you’ll be taken to the OR across the hall to repair your injuries. Understand?”

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m dizzy.”

“I know. One more minute,” she said. “Everyone in your positions.”

She looked around for a moment before looking up at you.

“On three, let go. One, two, three.”

You unsqueezed your fingers and pulled your hand out, wincing at the sudden pain. You felt yourself get moved and collapsed onto the table, your head swimming. The last thing you caught sight of was the floor before you were passing out completely.

When you woke up, you were in a room, a doctor writing something down on the chart at the end of the bed. You were alone aside from the other empty bed, your arm in a sling and it felt like you were laying on a wad of bandages.

“I wasn’t expecting you awake so soon,” he said. He took out a flashlight from his pocket and held up a finger. You followed it and he smiled. “Good. Your concussion appears to be doing better.”

“I passed out,” you said.

“From exhaustion, not a head injury. Your shoulder was put back in place and we discovered a few deep lacerations along your back that required stitches. You were treated for hypothermia, shock and a concussion as well. You got close to the hairy edge, Y/N,” he said. “You need extensive rest.”

“Where’s my dad,” you said.

“He’s recovering from surgery in the ICU. He’s quite weak,” he said. You sat up and closed your eyes. “You can see him later.”

“Buddy, I’m seeing him right now,” you said, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. 

“No, you’re not. He’s not even conscious at the moment.”

“Where’s Dr. Bradwick?”

“In the ER.”

“The other one. The surgeon,” you said. You tried to stand but he put his hand on your shoulder. “Buddy. Back off.”

“Dr. Kappers. A word,” said Dr. Bradwick as she popped in the door. She left with him and returned after a moment, giving you a smile. “Sorry about that. He’s not known for his bedside manner.”

“Can I see my dad?”

“I’ll do you one better. We’ll get you set up in his room,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. You sat back on the bed and she undid a few things, soon pushing you out of the room and over to some elevators. “Is he okay?”

“He’s not great but surgery was a success. He’s going to need to take things slow for the next while,” she said. “You saved his life you know.”

“A physician’s assistant came to my school once to talk about careers. He told us a story about clamping an artery shut with his fingers. I guess I kind of remembered,” you said.

“I think Jensen owes you one for that,” she said, pushing you inside. She hit a button to go up and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said. “Tired.”

“Those men that brought you in showed the police where your vehicle was. I believe your belongings are at the local sheriff’s office,” she said. “Oh and we were able to get your father’s contact information. Your mom was called and she let your husband know. They’re both on their way up from the states,” she said.

“Oh God, TJ,” you said, running your hands over your face. “He’s gotta be a nervous wreck right now.”

“Nothing wrong with having a husband that cares,” she said, the door dinging open. “Alright, I know you’re gonna jump out of bed and go over to your dad the second I leave the room but I don’t want you sleeping in a chair tonight. Got it? I will send my husband to come check on his lunch break if I have to.”

“I maybe promise?” you said.

“I like you,” she said, pushing you down the hall, pausing outside a door. “He should look a lot better than last time you saw him.”

She moved the bed inside a room, your dad asleep in the bed by the window. He had a cast on his right leg and a bandage around his head, a lot of leads and tubes running from him to machines close by but the blood was gone and he did look a lot more alive now.

“Thanks, Dr. Bradwick,” you said.

“I was in a car accident with my dad when I was a kid. I get it,” she said. She plugged in a few things for you and said a nurse would be in soon to get an IV in you. You hummed when she left, getting out of bed and grabbing a chair by the window, pulling it over to him. 

“Hey, dad,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Mom’s on her way and TJ too. They’re gonna smother us. That’s okay. I’m gonna stay right here until they get here though.”

For a moment you felt extremely tired and rested your head down on his unharmed leg. You used your good arm as a cushion as well, closing your eyes. Something tickled your head and your turned, seeing his hand trying to move on top of it. He didn’t open his eyes but you moved it for him, a brief smile crossing his lips.

“S’okay. Go back to sleep, dad.”

He half hummed and you felt yourself drifting off, a small gasp of air above you occurring.

“Not dead?” he murmured.

“No, not dead,” you said.

“Good.”

He was out like a light again and you smiled, a nurse walking in. She shook her head and got you up to your feet, helping you back in bed. 

“Can he have an extra blanket?” you asked as she stuck the needle in. She went to a closet in the room and took one out, spread it out over him lightly, finding another one and putting it over you. She pressed a button on the little machine for the IV and you felt the pain meds kick in, sending you to sleep quickly.

When you woke up, it was morning and your leg felt very hot. You blinked a few times, spotting a black tuft of hair curled up by it. You blinked again, recognizing the navy henley and the way the hair stuck up in the back. You smiled as you ran your hand over his head, TJ slowly waking up before jolting upright and giving you the biggest hug he dared.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a quiet laugh. “Miss me?”

“Never do that again,” he said. You cupped his cheek and smiled, a wave of relief crashing over him. 

“I’ll try,” you said. You looked to your right, your mom sitting by your dad’s side, watching him sleep. She got up when she saw you awake, walking over and hugging you. “Hi, mom.”

“TJ’s right. Never do that again,” she said. 

“We’re fine,” you said. “It looks worse than it is.”

“The doctors told us what happened,” she said. You turned away, smiling at TJ.

“Where are the kids?” you asked.

“JJ watched them last night and the Pads were taking them today,” he said. “Zepp flew home. Jared picked him up at the airport.”

“Sorry for ruining your guys trip,” you said, your mom shaking her head. 

“It’s fine. We’ll go on another one. I’m just glad you two are still here,” she said.

“We’re fine.”

“He should be dead. Maybe even you,” she said. “Please do not say you’re fine.”

“Mom. Last night was quite possibly the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t even know how to describe...I’m not gonna tell you everything that went down or was said. Dad is alive and so am I. We’ll get better. I’ll be better really soon even. It’s all there is to it.”

“They said you had your hand in him,” said TJ. 

“Yes, I did. Not as exciting as it sounds,” you said.

“Hurt like a bitch though,” you heard chuckled from the bed nearby. All three of you turned towards him, getting a sleepy smile in response. “I’m starving. We never got dinner.”

“I will go find you guys some food, pronto,” said TJ. He gave you a kiss before he left, your mom returning to her seat and staring at your dad.

“I’m fine,” he said, getting a hug and kiss from her.

“Don’t go yet,” she said quietly.

“Not going anywhere, honey,” he said. He looked over at you and smiled. “Not if I can help it.”

Two Months Later

“I’m going to grab another beer,” said TJ. He got up from his seat around the fire pit in the backyard and you waved a finger, your dad giving one as well.

“De, mind grabbing some stuff to make hotdogs?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said. They both head inside the house, your dad quiet as you both watched the fire. He scratched his stomach and you saw him lift up his shirt, glancing at the red line across his abdomen.

“You could get a tattoo,” you said. “To cover it up.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “What does bother me is the fact you risked your life for mine. You have children.”

“So do you.”

“Y/N. You’re young. You have your entire life ahead of you.”

“Adults have feelings, dad. You don’t get to love me more than I love you. You don’t get to put a cap on that for me. I am a parent. I do understand where you’re coming from. I do. But abandoning and giving up on you was not going to happen.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you didn’t give up on me.”

He looked down to his lap, pursing his lips.

“I hope we’re never in that kind of situation again but dad, I can’t promise you how I’m going to act. I know it’s your job to protect me. Don’t be mad at me for doing it back every once in a while is all.”

“I’m not mad, kiddo. I just want you safe.”

“Me too,” you said. He gave a quick smile, slumping down in his chair. “You busy tomorrow night?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m gonna take you out for our dinner we never had,” you said.

“Just us?”

“Just us,” you said. “That okay?”

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it,” he said. You tucked your feet up under you, closing your eyes briefly. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You did it first,” you said.

“There’s my sap,” he chuckled.

“Shut up, dork,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You’re still smiling,” he said, hearing the backdoor open. “You good, kiddo?”

“Yeah. I’m good, dad.”

You smiled and looked down, spotting a big looking bug by your feet. You jumped out of your chair and he laughed, getting to his feet and stepping on it with his shoe. You looked around for any more, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

“What?” you said, brushing yourself off.

“I still got it,” he said, taking a seat and pulling you down into the chair with him. “No creepy crawlies over here.”

“There better not be,” you said as TJ and your mom returned.

You weren’t too hungry for a hotdog but you took a bite of TJ’s after he’d cooked one over the fire. After a little while the four of you grew quiet and a few crackles of the fire filled the night air.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going to head up to bed,” said your mom with a yawn.

“Night,” you said.

“We won’t keep Jensen up too long,” said TJ.

“Rascals,” he said. “I’ll be in soon, honey.”

Your mom hummed as she headed up into the house and TJ slumped down in his chair, watching the fire. He wiped at his face after a moment and started rubbing his eyes. You shifted a bit to get a better view but he kept rubbing.

“Get some ash in there?” asked your dad. He just shook his head and you sat up.

“Babe,” you said as it hit you. “He’s crying.”

“Am not,” said TJ, his voice giving him away.

“Hey,” said your dad. “Come here.”

TJ shook his head and your dad got up, dragging TJ over to the other side of the oversized chair. You turned to your side, TJ looking out to the yard.

“Hey,” said your dad again. “If you won’t look at me, at least look at your wife.”

TJ sniffled and turned his head over to you with a swallow. He looked at your dad quickly before settling back on you.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” asked your dad, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“It just hit me right then that if that truck hadn’t shown up, neither one of you would have been in that chair and I’d...you guys can’t leave De and me alone like that. We’d be wrecks and there’s no way my parents would ever...my dad would be yelling at me for crying right now,” said TJ, wiping off his face again.

“It’s alright,” said your dad, giving him a hug. TJ started to calm down and you cleaned off your face, finding TJ’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Boys...guys...there ain’t nothing manly or tough about not crying. It’s healthy. Don’t be embarrassed, TJ. You never have to be afraid to do that in front of me, okay? I love you kid. We like to rag on one another but we love each other too. You have an amazing girl. She’s stronger than she looks. You’re stronger than you think you are too. So if it ever went bad, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

TJ nodded and your dad moved his other arm back around you, pulling you both into his sides.

“You feel any better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said TJ. “Y/N’s been telling me it’s okay to get upset over the accident. I should have listened.”

“Normally it’s a wise move to listen to your wife,” he chuckled. “Thomas.”

He looked up at that, your dad’s face a little more hard.

“Are you still not speaking to your dad?” he asked.

“Not really. He asked if you guys were okay about a month ago but that was it.”

“TJ...I think it’s time you, me and your dad sat down and had a talk.”

“Why?”

“Because somehow he helped make you and a part of me has to believe that if he’s half as good as you are, it’s worth having a hard conversation.”

“He’s not like you,” said TJ, shaking his head. “He won’t be happy.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s happy or not. I will make that very clear to him. You want to disagree with your child, that is okay. But Y/N, she’s not afraid to talk to me. A long time ago, before you were around, she was. She was afraid of me and I was afraid of her. There was a lot of crying and a lot of hard conversations, TJ. But that is why we got to the place where we are. You and I had one of those once and after that, things started to change between us, didn’t it. We’ve had conversations since about the big stuff and the little stuff. I am happy to be your dad, TJ. I am and I’m proud to be that to you. But as a dad, we’re going to have that talk with your dad, the three of us, and we’re going to give him an opportunity that he might not understand that he needs with you right now. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. 

“Good boy,” he said, kissing his temple and giving you one as well.

“I can’t imagine what he was saying when you guys were like, dying,” said TJ. You looked at your dad and smiled, getting one in return.

“Oh, we were totally cool,” he said. You rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh, totally,” you said. 

“Liars,” said TJ. You laughed and heard him let out a quiet chuckle. 

“Okay?” asked your dad. TJ nodded and you heard him shift, your dad leaning back in the seat. “TJ.”

“Hm?”

“Go take your girl to bed. She’s worried and wants to cuddle you,” he said.

“Dad,” you said.

“It’s true.”

“In a minute,” you said, giving him a hug. TJ reached over and gave him one as well, you dad ruffling both your heads. 

“I love you guys too. Now shoo,” he said. “It’s pretty late.”

TJ hopped up and took care of the fire with your dad. He helped him slowly make his way up to the house while you held the door open.

“How’s your leg today?” you asked.

“Glad to be out of the cast,” he said. “I gotta start a running plan next week or something to work the muscles back up. I’m so not looking forward to it.”

“I bet you are,” you said. “Night dad.”

“Night kiddos,” he said. “Y/N.”

You held back as TJ headed for your old bedroom, your dad grabbing a book off the coffee table. 

“Have TJ read this. It’s for a spouse when their partner goes through a traumatic event. Spouses can get a form of PTSD without realizing it,” he said. 

“You think…” you said, nodding back.

“I’m not sure. I got it for mom and it made her feel a little better. It might help him too,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. “Dad.”

“Mhm?”

“Go let mom take care of you, hm? Maybe not be a grump about it?” you said.

“Back at ya,” he said. “Night, tall munchkin.”

“Night, dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

_________

A/N: Read the TJ’s Talk timestamp here!

[liz-tries-to-write]

Sophitz Week: Academic Rivals

A/N: This is for this first prompt for Sophitz ship week! This is not my best work, my apologies, (I swear I’m actually a decent writer) but it’s a little something to help me out of my writer’s block. I might come back and expand on it if I get the chance!

Pairing: Sophie x Fitz

Word Count: ~800

TW: I don’t think there are any? lemme know if you want me to tag anything :)

“S-c-h-a-p-p-e... schappe,” Sophie spelled out. She stood on the stage, nervously playing with the hem of her skirt. Above her, a banner read “Foxfire’s 19th Annual Spelling Bee” in maroon letters. Across from her, in a competition chair of his own, stood a dark-haired boy with the prettiest eyes Sophie had ever seen. His lips were pursed in an obvious attempt at refraining from scowling as the announcer’s voice blared from the speakers.

“That is correct!” the MC, Bronte, boomed. “And with that, Sophie Foster officially wins Foxfire’s 19th Annual Spelling Bee.”

Sophie beamed as the crowd broke out into applause. She was scanning the audience for her parents when she heard a heavily-accented voice from behind her.

“Congratulations.” It was the boy from the finals round, his face flushed with adrenaline and a touch of annoyance. “That was impressive,” he told her, flashing her a smile.

Sophie felt her face heat up, trying to ignore the fact that he was even more attractive up close. “Thanks,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his teal eyes.

“Sophie, right? I’m Fitz, Fitz Vacker,” he said, extending one hand out. She took it, feeling her cheeks redden even more as she made contact with him. She had seen him around her high school. He was in a grade or two above her, and from what she could tell, he was popular. And she was pretty sure he modelled, too.

Not to mention.. “Wait- Fitz Vacker, as in four-year spelling bee champion?”

“That’d be me. I can’t lie, I’m a little vexed at being beaten, especially by a student younger than me, but congratulations nonetheless. I’m sure you’ll do a great job representing the school at nationals.” His tone was laidback, confident.

Sophie started. “Nationals?”

“Well, yeah,” he smiled. “You got first in the school, which means you’re going to nationals.”

“Oh,” was all Sophie had to say. She hadn’t really thought about what would happen if she got first place. Honestly, she didn’t think she was going to make it past the semi-finals round. Sophie had always been a natural at spelling; languages had always come easy to her. Once the school had found out, they had pressured her into partaking in the school’s spelling bee, and with some encouragement from her parents, Sophie had agreed to participate this year.

“Sophie!” a voice called out, startling her. She turned just in time to be enveloped in a hug by Grady. “Great job, Kiddo! I knew you could do it.”

She laughed. “Thanks, Dad.”

Next to her, Fitz coughed. “Fitz Vacker,” he informed Grady with a polite smile. “The competition who just got his ass handed to him by your daughter.”

Grady laughed. “It would appear so.” Before he could say anything else, Bronte appeared at his side.

Bronte, the MC of the spelling bee, was not unfamiliar to Sophie. He was also a part of the school board, and despite his small stature, he was intimidating.

“Congratulations, Miss Foster,” he said to Sophie, who blushed nervously in return. “In case you weren’t aware, you’ve qualified for the regional spelling bee, which means you’re competing with other nearby schools. It may seem early to be mentioning, but I assure you, you should already be practicing.” Bronte didn’t speak unkindly, but there was an attitude to his voice that put Sophie on edge. Upon noticing Fitz’s presence, he continued. “Actually, Mr. Vacker has done exceedingly well, and has made it to nationals himself several times. I’m sure he can help you.”

“Oh, uh, I-“ Sophie stammered.

“I’d love to,” Fitz replied with a charming smile. “I think Sophie could actually teach me a few things,” he said, throwing a glance Sophie’s way. “That is, if she’s okay with it.”

Sophie felt small under the stares of Grady, Bronte, and Fitz. “Um yeah, I guess so?” she replied, resisting the temptation to tug out an itchy eyelash.

“It’s settled then,” Bronte declared with a nod. “I’m sure the two of you can figure out a schedule that works for the both of you.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left.

Sophie knew her discomfort was obvious in the bright colour of her cheeks. Fitz Vacker, popular model and spelling bee champion, was going to help her train? “So, uh…” she started, looking towards Fitz. “You don’t have to help me, I’ll be fine on my own.”

Fitz smiled, something Sophie didn’t realize she liked until he did it again. “I’m sure that’s true, but I really don’t mind. Here, give me your number and we can talk later to figure out a schedule.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she stammered. She hastily entered her name and number into his phone. “Okay, great! See you around?”

“Sounds great.” He smiled at her once more before disappearing into the crowd.

tag list: @dragonwinnie-kotlc @steppingonshatteredglass @sophitz-week @enbies-and-felonies

[gremlin-writes-angst]

The Unkissable Prince : Ch 2

Chapter 1 here!!

2.9 k words

Trigger warning: Cursing(?) Kissing (non-descriptive) Insecurities, rude comments

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged!!!

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

The past few weeks the cast had been working hard to make something they could be proud of, and they were proud of what they had accomplished so far as a group, but problems arise in individuals. Most of the actors were in their last year of high school and had other problems and worries this late in the school year. Lunch was one of the only times they could relax without having to do school work or production work. It was a time of fun relaxation, laughs and for some, it was a time to make new relationships or for some to evolve.

Denki and Shinso had been working together during rehearsal almost every time the actors were given time to work on individual character work. Even though Denki was who Shinso worked with the most, Denki was always disappointed when Shinso worked with another actor. Now Shinso was a part of the theater kid group, even during lunch. Currently, most of the students in the production were having lunch together and it was only the second week that Shinso was a part of this lunch group and he had taken notice of something. For one he noticed the closeness of Tokoyami the actor playing Scully and Aoyama the french boy who played the french chef in the show, he assumed that they were together or were getting to that type of relationship. He also noticed that mina was Ursala, not that she was naturally Ursula but she constantly in character, basically method acting, and it scared most of the none theater people. What he took notice of most was how they treated Denki, for the most part, it was harmless jokes that could be taken the wrong way. What he was really unsure of was how Jiro treated him, her jokes were more insults than the others, half the time he couldn’t tell if she was even trying to joke about it. Shinsou could tell that Denki was affected by Jiro’s words, and he was too. Mostly because her insults were always about other’s feelings toward Denki. Things like

“Your so annoying, it makes people hate you.”

“It’s hard being around you when you are so stupid.”

"I still don’t how you landed the prince role when you the furthest thing from a prince .”

“It’s so hard to act like I’m in love with prince eric when you’re the one playing him.”

“I’m not surprised that you’ve never been in a relationship, I pray for your future partner.”

That last few ones were the ones that hurt Shinso because he was a part of denkis prince Eric’s portrayal. The last one also struck a chord with him because he liked Denkieven before they become friends, he was almost hopelessly in love with Denkinow that they got to spend time together. Even though Jiro’s comments hurt both Denkiand Shinsou, neither of them was able to stand up to her. All Shinsou could do was find a way to comfort Denki when they were alone.

Later in the day after school now at rehearsal, once again Shinso was hoping from person to person helping them during their individual work. Denki was running over his lines, memorizing, blocking, and figuring out how to say each word, the way prince eric would. Shinso had taught him many acting tips in the past few weeks, it made Denki feel a little dumb because he had done acting for fun since he was little and he was only learning such things in his last year of high school. Denki sat and thought of tactics, a term, and a method that Shinso taught him. Basically, each line has at least one tactic, a tactic is an action verb that is aimed at the other characters in the show. For example, he used ‘to swoon Ariel’ quite a bit, swoon being the tactic and Ariel is who it is for. All the work he was doing made him think of Shinsou, and how Shinsou wasn’t working with him right now, it made him feel alone and jealous that he didn’t have the fluffy-haired boy’s attention. The director called for clean up which indicated the end of rehearsal, and Denki still hadn’t worked with Shinsou today, it disappointed him more than it should have.

Denki

I pack up my bag and script but stay seated in the chair I was in. I know that it’s time to go but I wasn’t ready to leave, not mentally at least. I watched as my ...our stage manager talked to our director, I have no clue what their conversations about but it’s not unusual for them to talk after rehearsal. I began to space out, still staring in their direction, I’m broken from this state when I notice both men looking at me, I panic a little because when two people are talking and looking at you it means that they’re talking about you, and I can only assume that their talking shit if it’s me they’re looking at. In my slightly panicked state, I didn’t realize that Yamada has left and that Shinso has started to approach me. I try to calm myself and get ready to stand up but before I could stand up I hear the amazing smooth voice of Shinso.

“Stay seated.”

Even though his tone wasn’t demanding or scary, I summited and was scared. I watched as he sets down something and pulls out another foldable chair, across from me and my chair. I couldn’t think of what to say or question but luckily I didn’t have to because he knew the answers to the questions I hadn’t even thought of yet

“I asked Yamada if I could work with you a little more today here because we didn’t get to.”

I nodded my head and took note of how awkward he knew that we were alone together. I guess he thinks I’m stupid because he went into more detail.

“He said yes, just no funny business and to lock up and that return the keys when I get home.”

He was less awkward now, he even rolled his eyes at the no funny business part. I assume that the shiny thing he put down was the keys to the auditorium. The most confusing part was the ‘return the keys when I get home’.

"Wait you live with Yamada?”

I yelled that a little loud and was a little too excited for that, it probably made him uncomfortable to be around a loud person like me.

"Yeah, he not my dad or anything. At least not biologically, he’s my foster parent, has been for the past 3 years but he hasn’t asked if I wanted to be adopted yet so I think he waiting till I turn 18 so he doesn’t have to deal with me.”

He laughs but I don’t think it’s very funny, because I don’t think it true, and Yamada isn’t like that. I hold my breath though, no one wants to hear my thoughts anyway, so I switch the subject.

"I was working on tactics today, hear let me show you!”

We worked for the next 30 minutes on different parts of the script, until we ended up on the wedding scene, the same scene that prince eric and ariel kiss. The atmosphere became weird between us, we weren’t acting or anything, just reading the lines and talking through different ideas. But the topic of kissing filled the air with awkwardness. But we had to continue with analyzing and discovering my character.

"I’ve been having trouble portraying Eric at this moment. It’s hard to show the love he feels for Ariel.”

I admitted to Shinso that love was hard to portray which is pretty embarrassing.

"I would try and draw out, or remember an experience for this scene, like your first kiss, or date, something romantic.”

Shinso suggested, I tried to rack my brain to find a replay that doesn’t include Shinso learning that I haven’t had my first kiss yet. But that’s what enders up coming out.

"I haven’t...”

"You haven’t ...what? Kissed someone? gone on date?”

Shinso sounds very shocked by this discovery. I just nodded my head not wanting to face him.

"But you’ve rehearsed this scene before, so you’ve kissed Jiro?”

I suddenly realize that every time Jiro and I have rehearsed that scene, Shinso isn’t in his chair, and when Yamada announced we would be doing stage kisses instead, Shinso hadn’t joined the club yet. Meaning that Shinso didn’t know about the stage kisses.

“No, she was uncomfortable with that so we opted for stage kisses, so I’ve never had a first kiss, not a romantic one or a fake one from Jiro.”

“Whats a stage kiss?”

I’m shocked, my stage manager doesn’t know what a stage kiss is. He knows all these other terms for acting but he doesn’t know about a basic stage kiss. Well, now I get to be the smart one.

"Well, it’s so that actors don’t have to kiss but it tricks the audience. Basically one of the actors grabs the other’s face and kisses their thumbs.”

I was feeling pretty smug about knowing something Shinsou didn’t. Until he spoke again.

“I don’t understand. Maybe I’ll understand better if you showed me.”

I cough out a little bit in shock, yeah sure it’s a stage kiss and I wouldn’t actually be kissing him, but the idea makes me nervous. It’s not like I don’t want to kiss him, stage kiss him, it’s the opposite, I’ve grown fond of him and might even say I have a crush on him. I know that I don’t have a shot with him or anyone for that matter but I can’t help but wish for more than a stage kiss. But if a stage kiss is the closest I'll get to being with Shinso I'll take it.

Without saying anything I get up from my chair and move towards Shinso, I place my hands on his face and then I lift my thumbs positioning them in front of his lips. they flout above his lips as I pause for a second, thinking about touching his lips with my thumbs, it’s still intimate in my mind, but his puzzled look makes me place my thumbs down on his lips. There soft, I would have expected chapped lips but this is a pleasant surprise. I close my eyes and kiss my own thumbs, I keep my lips there longer than I do when I stage kiss Jiro, but Shinso won’t know that. I pull away and open my eyes, to see Shinso smiling and almost laughing, then he begins to laugh. I began to feel insignificant and stupid again. I know I don’t have a shot with some as amazing as Shinso but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still hope that the stage kiss would lead to something more, and real.

“Sorry for laughing. You really haven’t had your first kiss.”

It’s that obvious to him, sure I told him but how can he tell how inexperienced I am from just a stage kiss.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

I asked in a more rude tone than I meant to.

"Well you closed your eyes, like the whole time, and you were there longer than needed.”

“You’re supposed to close your eyes, right. That’s what they do in movies and like it’s bad if you open your eyes, or that’s what I’ve heard.”

Shinso nods at my statement but it seems to be in a teasing way.

“Wel that right but you make it seem like life or death, your eyes aren’t just closed there squeezed shut, and with simple kisses that the .. um … the stage kiss is replicating, it’s short. Cause in real life it would be a little awkward to put your lips against someone else’s without at least some lip movement.”

I find his corrections on my stage kiss annoying, and I don’t try to hide it in my voice.

"Oh, so your some sort of kissing expert?”

“I wouldn’t call myself that, but I’m more experienced than you.”

I become more annoyed because his voice changed and he became more smug

"Well, it’s not my fault I haven’t had my first kiss!”

I yell at him.

“Neither is it mine.”

“Yes, it is because anyone who hasn’t tried to kiss me is at fault!”

I blurt out without think of consequences, and when I look at Shinso and his smug, flirtatious face I know that there’s going to be consequences.

“So if I kiss you then I can be free from being blamed?”

I go wide-eyed, I can’t tell if he’s being serious. And if he is I don’t know if I want my first kiss to be under these circumstances. Oh, who am I kidding I was ready to have my first kiss be with Jiro for a play. I try to ask him how serious he is but it stumbles out in pieces.

“How ….uu. I ho-how seri-serious is your.. Uhh ...your ..proposal?”

I sound like a mess. I watch as Shinso stands up from his chair moving closer to me. His left hand rests on my cheek. Leans in and whispers...

“As serious as you want it to be.”

We stand and stay in this position until Shinsou whispers more...

“I’m asking if I can kiss you.”

“Yes!”

The yes that falls out of my mouth is too fast and too quiet but Shinsou heard it and leaned in. I don’t like to admit that I’m wrong but I was and Shinso is right. Without movement this is awkward. But then he snickers with his lips still on mine, that’s when I realize he wasn’t moving on purpose to prove his point. He begins to move, and I half expect it to become a french kiss but it doesn’t. I follow his lips movement hoping that I’m doing it correctly.

We eventually pull away, both our faces tinted pink with blush. I’m not used to silence so I try to fill it.

"Wow, where did all that confidence come from?”

Shinso was often not as flirty as he has been for the past 10 minutes.

“Don’t know, it happens more than you’d expect.”

His hand does that thing that I’ve read in teen romance stories, where it goes behind their neck. I can see the movement of hair and fingers and I assume that it’s some sort of nervous tick to play with his hair, it cute.

“So I think we did enough work for one day, so I guess it’s time to go home.”

I nodded and turn back to grab my stuff, I turn around and Shinsou is already ready to go, waiting for me, but he doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people are when I take longer to get ready. He locks up the room and we walk to the exit together. When we get outside I turn to start walking home, Shinsou turns the other way but before I get too far he turns back and yells at me.

“Do you need a ride? People shouldn’t walk this late at night, I don’t mind giving you a ride. “

I turn around and yell back...

"I don’t want to get you in trouble for being home late.”

“I’d probably get more in trouble if I let you walked, that’s how my dads are, so come on.”

He waves me over and I jog over to him.

During the ride we don’t talk much, letting the radio fill the car, scaring off the awkward silence. I told him my address and he uses a GPS for direction instead of asking me every 2 minutes when to turn. So I was able to just watch him, and I never realized how attractive people can be while driving till now. Especially the one hand on the wheel, his right hand still on the shift even though it an automatic, his left hand on the wheel. The same hand that was on my cheek less than 20 minutes ago. The realization brings color back to my face, I begin to think about the kiss again. My thinking almost always leads to questions that make me insecure, and like always, I begin to question. Along with my brain answering with the most likely answer

Did I do it right? No.

Did he like it? No.

Does he regret it? Of course.

Was it just a moment thing? Yes.

Or does it have a deeper meaning? No.

Will it happen again? Never, don’t even get your hopes up.

Will we become more than friends? Idiot.

Did he hate it? How else is someone supposed to feel after kissing you?

Is Jiro right? Has she ever been wrong, no, and that hasn’t changed.

Will he stop being my friend? Probably and if not, it’s pity.

Why did he do it? To teach you, cause your a lonely idiot.

Does he like me? Not even a question, of course not, look at him, then yourself. He would never like you.

“Denki is this it?”

I’m broken from the negative thoughts. Shinso has already parked, I look out the window, and sure enough, it is my house.

“Yeah."

I step out and grab my stuff, I close the door, the window rolls down.

"Have a good day Denki.”

"Yeah, you to Shinso.”

I begin to walk away but he yells out a little more...

"Call me Hitoshi. Also, It wasn’t a moment thing, and I want to see where this leads.”

My back was turned the whole time he said talked, I stand there frozen in disbelief. It’s only when I hear his car drive away that I breathe again, my first breath also being a whisper of his name.

[itwoodbeprefect]

as someone who lived thru mcdanno, what are ur expectations for buddie? (fellow clown here)

fjdkfd god, i do love that question, thank you, but prepare yourself for too many words and perhaps not the answer you want to hear.

first off, i feel like i barely even really lived through mcdanno. i came in around the time season 9 started and caught up midway through, so at that point there had been a full eight and a bit seasons to very clearly set the tone on that show and in steve and danny's relationship, which is queerbait, times ten. i literally never expected anything else, and i fully knew what i was getting into from the get-go. h50 is also a show i'd place politcally either in the center or right of center, often aimed at more of a boomer audience (oh god that episode about the "millenial" vloggers who weren't even millenials HAUNTS me) and with a number of queer characters i could (extremely literally) count on my hands, of which by far most either get a) one single speaking line (if at all), b) killed or c) exposed as a criminal. overall it's not a show that's kind to queer people, is what i'm saying, and it was never very interested in being so.

911 on the other hand... is very similar in some fundamental ways, hence the huge overlap there seems to be in steve/danny people and buck/eddie people, but it's also very different in many other ways. it only has four seasons so far, of which eddie has only been present for three, and the ensemble cast is WAY more an actual ensemble than in h50, which is also supposedly about a kind of found family but is in reality most of the time the steve-and-danny or even the really-just-steve show. mcdanno just gets so much more airtime, both by existing number of seasons and by minutes on screen per episode. the 911 setup is not a bad thing whatsoever (i wish h50 had done more of that! daniel dae kim and grace park DESERVED more of that, jfc) but it does mean that honestly, when i started watching 911 with h50 fresh on my mind and all the comparisons i'd seen on tumblr, i was like, yeah, okay. i see why people might ship it, but compared to mcdanno buddie has barely any setup at all. (i'msorrydon'thateme.)

and this is where i might accidentally be getting controversial, and i'm sorry about that too, because i really don't mean to put a damper on anyone's joy, but while i agree that buck/eddie can be fun to explore as a ship, i just... don't necessarily think it's going to happen on screen? and that's okay. there is absolutely nothing wrong with shipping something that isn't canon and that might never be canon! that's totally cool! the only problem with that is when you start expecting something to happen in canon and you end up getting disappointed if it doesn't, because that hurts and getting hurt is no fun at all, and that's what worries me a little about buddie and 911 fandom. when i look at the tags some people seem... very convinced. and i get that too, because when a whole bunch of people are analyzing a show for hints of a specific ship, it's very easy to get swept up in it and it's a kind of echo chamber in which you all agree that it would be good and make sense and how could this not be what they're planning considering all you're seeing? but i'm just not sure, in this particular case, whether the rest of the audience and the writers are seeing the same thing, and i feel like there's a bit of a buddie hype going on based on what (to me!) in all honesty doesn't seem like that much evidence in canon, which just scares me a bit.

again, certainly not trying to tell anyone they shouldn't be having fun with buck/eddie (you should!!!) or that there's nothing to go by in canon, but just. please be careful with expectations from that canon? if something happens, that's awesome, and if it never does, that's also okay. it doesn't mean you're crazy, but it also doesn't mean the writers or showrunners or god forbid the actors are evil people who have been stringing you along. i get how loaded this can be, especially because there is such a huge history of shows not going for queer relationships purely because of homophobia, and it can be easy to read that into this situation, but this show already HAS a huge number of canonically queer main and recurring characters, who are all awesome and written as actual people with lots of friends and sympathetic storylines and hero moments and i don't think, honestly, that accusing 911 of homophobia or queerbaiting or bad writing for not making the two men fandom has latched onto go canon is going to, well, accomplish anything, except foster bitterness and ruin something for people that they used to enjoy.

all of that being said, and not to fly directly in the face of everything i just said, but... it could happen. i'm not saying it couldn't. coming back to that thing about h50 and queer characters, 911 is very incredibly wildly different in its treatment of its characters, and they DO have queer characters. they have A LOT of queer characters, to the blessed point where "character b can't be queer because character a already is" definitely doesn't apply, which it has many times in the past even if there is someone not straight in the cast of some show. so i mean. maybe! it's possible! 911 is not h50 at all, and that's a very good thing imo because as much as i enjoy mcdanno, h50 is honestly lowkey unwatchable as a show to me sometimes.

so, essentially, my personal expectations for buddie as a romantic thing in canon are not high, but i guess higher than they ever were for mcdanno, because at least buck and eddie are on a show where it's a remote possibility. i think it would be great - a queer slow burn on tv, that would be amazing - but i also think the show and buck and eddie's relationship would still be great if they never did it, and that all the other queer characters they already have probably deserve a lot more attention from fandom if queer rep is really what it's about, because hen and karen and josh and michael and david are all right there, and that's not even getting into lone star with paul and tk and carlos. mostly though i think that i don't want people to get disappointed. nobody ever expected anything to happen in h50, and that gives a kind of freedom of certainy that there isn't in 911, which makes me a little nervous for this fandom and the people in it. not to sound preachy, but be safe, have fun, and make sure that things keep being fun for you, because that's what fandom is about. if they're not, it might be time to take a break, and that's okay - it's normal to get really invested in something you enjoy, but please also put your own enjoyment and comfort first. (and it's still totally okay and can be a lot of fun to ship something that isn't canon.) ❤

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 1

Here are my extremely unfashionably late takes! They’re long, so strap in if you want.

okay, I genuinely thought the scenes in Gumb’s basement were ripped from the film for a second. extremely well done.

I both appreciate that they’re acknowledging the Bureau-mandated psych eval Clarice would have to go through (not sure she’d have to have another one a year later?)...

...but I sure wish they hadn’t chosen to open this show in a therapy-like session. it’s going to be subject to enough NBC comparisons as it is.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is so pretty, and in the same almost, idk, elfin kind of way Jodie Foster is.

“Bride of Frankenstein”! a novel reference! and a Hannibal Lecter reference even though they can’t use his name! I’m excited

I was afraid of this part, though--everyone’s going to call her “Clarice” aren’t they?

it’s very significant that in the books, Hannibal is virtually alone in using her first name to address her; even Ardelia calls her “Starling.” but of course this series chose “Clarice” as its title, so...

“the checkout lady at the Safeway asked me to autograph a melon” omg

so Clarice has supposedly been “mandated” to see an FBI therapist for an entire year? hmm.

tbh, this feels kind of like a proxy for Hannibal’s scenes in the movie, especially with the therapist calling her “Clarice.” not sure if I dig it.

“...given that your last therapist was an inmate” Hannibal reference #2!

they’re explicitly talking about Hannibal without being able to name him and it’s hilarious, frustrating, and immensely satisfying all at once.

there’s no way to avoid talking about him altogether without being disingenuous to Clarice’s eventual character arc, so I’m glad they’re ripping off the band-aid early

“you let that relationship be intimate”  Yeah, Clarice and Hannibal’s relationship IS intimate and YOU! SHOULD! SAY IT!!!

it’s kind of ridiculous for this guy/the show not to acknowledge that little trainee Clarice was sent to see Hannibal by someone who should’ve known better. That Crawford was doing it with the intention to save lives doesn’t mean he didn’t use the shit out of Clarice.

that’s not to take away her agency or minimize the choices she made after she met Hannibal. She wouldn’t have been in a position to make those choices if Crawford hadn’t arranged it, though.

even if they don’t have the rights to Crawford’s name, either (I have to assume that’s the case) couldn’t they at least mention this??

“hasn’t seen her own family in years” Are they actually going to address Clarice’s maybe-dead-maybe-not mother (depending on the canon they adopt, book or film) and possible siblings??? Please tell me they are!

Clarice’s “egregious” PTSD doesn’t have much to do with Buffalo Bill ofc, and this therapist seems to be making excuses to be the first in a long line of men getting in the way of Clarice’s career goals...

...which she recognizes and confronts him about. Call him out!!!

*Anthony Hopkins voice* That’s my girl.

the way she’s been written in this scene gives me a lot of hope going forward! she’s funny, she doesn’t take any sexist bullshit, she’s calm and polite but you get a glimpse of the rage underneath. 

wow, they promoted Senator Martin to Attorney General!

the opening credits (if you can even call them that) are a let-down, though

she has her beads!

can anyone who’s not Hannibal please stop calling her Clarice

wonder if they’re going to touch on any of the extreme tension that existed between Senator Martin and Clarice in the novel? they didn’t interact in the movie, but in the book, Martin is under intense stress, and it doesn’t go smoothly.

of course in “Hannibal,” Martin invites her to “ride horses,” so they obviously reconciled after Catherine’s rescue and kept in some kind of touch.

and speak of the devil: horses! (and Catherine)

“I can’t have a reputation, I’ve only done it once” Thank you for being the voice of reason, Clarice.

“Paul Krendler” *ugly screaming commences*

“you don’t have any people, Clarice” Aaand that’s the plot of the Hannibal novel!

looks like they even gave her the ring Jodie’s Clarice wears!

oh yeah, this Krendler looks like a sumbitch if I ever saw one. No one will ever be as perfectly cast as the dude in Silence imo, but a much better fit than Ray Liotta. 

“small carat, but it’s a sweet ring” A very in-character observation probably directly informed by her comments about nail polish in Silence.

she mentions this victim’s nail polish (!) being “tasteful,” and I shrieked a little again.

I understand it’s necessary for Krendler to be a douche, but there’s not even going to be any payoff for the audience (or Clarice) when Hannibal eats him, so boo.

wait...wait, why aren’t Clarice and Ardelia in their Alexandria duplex? They’re not just best friends, they’re roommates! For the entire seven-year story! GIVE ME THE DUPLEX!!!

BUT points for Ardelia bringing Clarice a treat, since she was always leaving her candy bars in the Silence book!

Clarice interacting with the washer/dryer is a nice nod to the books, too.

speaking of... “What did we learn in the laundry room back at Quantico?” For some reason this line made me actually cry, I guess because this whole episode has been such a love letter to something I love so dearly, and it’s making me emotional.

FIRST PRINCIPLES!

DESPERATELY RANDOM!!!

wow, the men in Clarice’s new office giving her lotion as a hazing “welcome” gift is awful, and now I’m just mad (which is the point of the scene ofc).

so this ex-military OC is the John Brigham stand-in, I take it?

if that means John Brigham won’t be here, No Thanks.

Clarice telling him she’ll drive...a tribute to Dana “Why Do You Always Have to Drive?” Scully, perhaps (who was herself inspired by Clarice) as well as a nod to Clarice’s love of cars?

“Why do they call you the bride of Frankenstein?” Sorry, I don’t have the legal rights to tell you about my last intimate relationship.

“Already on my way to West Virginia Granny Witch” Look, this show could crash and burn from this scene on, and it would still have been worth it just for these first 25 minutes.

I like that Clarice is shown wanting to help people, and the scene of her with the baby is a nice call-back to the eventual shoot-out at the beginning of “Hannibal”...but I hope they don’t try to domesticate her too much. Clarice needs her hard edges. To be tough (reasonably so)--a cub growing into its big cat’s claws.

also, somehow I doubt that Miss Valedictorian spent her six years in the Lutheran home “changing a lot of diapers,” but sure, okay. If her siblings are alive in this, she might have changed their diapers!

even though Krendler’s a real dickwad so far, he’s not slimy enough for me. Needs more grease.

“I got a call from your therapist who’s concerned that you might genuinely flip out” I really do not like this subplot Sam-I-Am. Aren’t the huge glass ceiling/Boys’ Club obstacles enough?

seriously, though, I know Hannibal tells her that the metaphorical lambs will come back--at the end of Silence, though, she’s at some kind of temporary peace, not in danger of “flipping out” any time soon.

if Esquivel really is our Brigham stand-in, I’ve got...problems with that. He was Clarice’s teacher and became her friend, not some Krendler double-agent. (Also worried they’re setting him up as a love interest for her which...eesh, no thanks.)

and sorry, I actually hate that Catherine kept Precious the dog in this.

I have no problem with Catherine being a character, or with her interacting with Clarice...that said, I don’t know if her being shown as severely traumatized and reaching out to Clarice as a form of emotional lifeline is...a good idea?

I understand the symbolism of Catherine’s smashed mirror, but...smashed mirrors are already a Thing in this series (albeit not Clarice’s chapter in it), and that’s all I can think of here.

Catherine’s a victim of unthinkable trauma. Nevertheless...she’s talking to the woman who saved her life. Who risked death to do it. I just don’t like the way this scene is written. Apparently, in this show’s canon, Catherine hasn’t gotten the help she needs. But Clarice isn’t her therapist, and it’s upsetting to have Catherine being all “I’ll never be safe and neither will you.”

how does Catherine remember “the mannequins, the autopsy table”?? And why is she throwing them in Clarice’s face?

I’m going to stop talking about this scene now because it’s making me angry and a little upset, which is maybe the point? I just don’t think it’s written well. If Catherine’s going to be a recurring character, I hope she’s shown getting professional, medical help.

Clarice finding the victim’s papers in the box of pads is a direct callback to her finding the photos in the jewelry box in Silence. Nice.

let’s agree that Hannibal and Crawford are both in Ardelia’s (too-cutesy-for-me) book

another nice little X-Files homage?

I have some qualms about that big climax, but...meh. It was capital-F Fine.

Yikes, this is a full week late. Thanks for reading this entirely-too-long post through to the end, if you’re still here! 

To sum up my thoughts...

The Good: 

the visual connections to the Silence film (that green coat/blue knit scarf combo in particular)

Rebecca Breeds’ performance overall so far

Clarice’s strong writing/characterization

her sense of humor and her inclination to call out bullshit

maybe it was just me, but I also got a sense of Hannibal’s influence on her in some of her dialogue--her blunt observations--and I love it

Ardelia Mapp

the repeated in-your-face references to Hannibal Lecter

the respectful, non-exploitative way the victims were treated by the narrative.

let’s just say, not all Harris-inspired shows managed to do this. :)

the many, many allusions to the novel

“you let that relationship be INTIMATE” !!!

The Bad: 

the near-constant implication that all Clarice’s trauma stems from her experiences in Gumb’s basement

I just don’t understand this one...it’s not supported by the text imo

the “Clarice-is-a-psychological-loose-canon” subplot

almost everyone calling her “Clarice”

NO DUPLEX IN ALEXANDRIA! Boo!

Esquivel maybe replacing Brigham

the narrative choices they’ve made surrounding Catherine so far.

Seriously: please let Catherine seek/get help instead of screaming “HELP ME” at Clarice, who after all risked her own life to save Catherine’s, over the phone.

The Ugly: Paul Krendler, lol. Confession time: I also don’t care for the way they’ve styled her hair. Not sure why it bugs me, it just...does.

Overall, I’m thrilled to death with this. I was so afraid it would be disappointing, so even if it’s not a five-star episode (and pilots rarely are), it’s a great beginning! It’s beyond amazing to see our girl on the screen again. Just this hour-long episode did her character way more justice than the entire Hannibal film. Despite its shortcomings, it’s such a loving homage to characters and a story that mean a lot to me, and I love it just for that.

Going forward, I’d like to see more of Clarice as a person. Her hobbies and interests--cars, sharpshooting, running, fashion magazines stuffed under her bed, horseback riding, her total inability to cook...anything would do. I of course want to see more of her with Ardelia. I want to hear more about her backstory and find out which version of it (truly orphaned when her father dies or sent away by her mother) they’ll choose to explore. And while we all agree that this show is about Clarice and she don’t need no man, I won’t lie: I’d gobble up more sly references to Hannibal. He’s her endgame, after all.

I’d also like to really see the warrior underneath. There are flashes of her in the last twenty minutes of this episode. But Clarice Starling is a big cat, she’s a warrior, she’s between iron and silver. I’d hate for her to spend most of this show doe-eyed and traumatized. I want her to be ferocious, to see the woman who’s a match for the monster.

Krendler needs to get nastier. He should make us feel like we need to shower. In the novels, he wants to use Clarice--only for her body. And when she won’t allow him to, he takes his revenge. That’s what makes him so particularly awful. Let’s amp him up here.

And finally...maybe I’ll appreciate Catherine’s scene more on a second watch. Maybe I’m not being sensitive enough to her trauma, her struggles. But I didn’t like the way that scene was staged or scripted, and I didn’t like the suggestion that she just hasn’t gotten help after a year and is subsequently taking her pain out on Clarice on some level. I hope future episodes handle this subplot, and her character, a bit better.

Please let me know if you guys would like me to do another of these monstrosities for the next episode. (I promise it won’t take me an entire week this time!) And thank you again for reading!!! 

[valleyrunearchives]

Binary

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Chapter 9/?

“Binary code is a series of zeroes and ones strung together in a specific sequence. On paper, it’s useless. Annoying. Worthless. But put that same string of zeroes and ones into a computer, and suddenly it’s a language far more complex than the human mind can comprehend. I was the same way. The world decided I wasn’t good enough in the physical plane, so I went digital. That’s why I chose the name Binary. And you should be very,” He smirks at the underground hero on the screen, “Very afraid of the reach I have here. Aizawa Shouta.”

Or

Midoriya Izuku is tired of the world treating him like nothing. So he decides to becoming a hacker to show the world that nothing can be anything.

Featuring Midoriya Izuku as the Genius Hacker Aizawa Shouta as the problem child wrangler Yamada Hizashi as the moral support to his husband Tsukauchi Naomasa as the man who needs a long vacation PLEASE Shinsou Hitoshi as the intentionally adopted one Toga Himiko as the unintentionally adopted one Dabi as the really didn’t want to be adopted one but he guesses this is his life now and Nedzu as the Rat God of UA

Previous | First | Next

Click here to Read on AO3!

Hitoshi likes to think of himself as a patient boy. At least he’s shown quite a considerable amount of patients before now. He constantly put up with horrible and frankly degrading foster homes with nary a complaint because he always thought, ‘it could be worse.’ He dealt with the horrors that was public school while having a supposed ‘villain’s’ quirk. Dealt with all the bullying that came with it too. Never complained, never cried. Never showed anything other than silent contempt. It all paid off too when he met Izuku. Now he’s in a better home, aiming to go to online school, and still set in being a hero. He was even very understanding at learning that Izuku was an illegal hacker for the police. He’s finally in a better state of mind and, dare he say it, somewhat happy.

Now he’s sitting on the couch of their apartment, relaxing with a cup of coffee. He convinced Izuku to buy them their own coffee pot since he’s a coffee addict and so is the green haired teen. They’re also saving money on coffee deliveries. Even if that didn’t really matter since Izuku is apparently rich as fuck? He’s still kind of astounded at that. He raises the mug to his lips and takes another sip as the door opens. He swallows the swig of coffee and calls out, “Welcome home.”

“Yeah… I’m home…” Hitoshi’s back straightens into a tense line. He doesn’t turn around though, fearful of what he’ll see. Izuku sounds… odd. Nervous. Afraid? No, not really afraid. But odd all the same. “What happened?” he asks sternly.

“So uh…” Izuku pops up into his vision with a meek smile, “I might have… done something… and I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

“Oh God,” he mutters, burying his nose into his coffee cup, his voice now amplified thanks to it, “What did you do?” 

“Wow! Izuku-kun, your place is so nice! Is that the Hitoshi-kun you were talking about? He’s so cute!” The female voice causes Hitoshi’s head to shoot back up. He finally turns his eyes in their direction, coming across - not two - three people including Izuku. The green teen is still grinning in nervousness. There’s also a pale blonde girl with vivid amber eyes smiling coyly at him. Behind the two of them is a very tall man who is hunkered down as if trying to hide behind the others. He’s far taller than Hitoshi so it’s not working. 

Hitoshi turns a sharp eye on Izuku, silently demanding an answer. Izuku takes a deep breath in and says in one go, “I didn’t find anything at the store so I just decided to go home and as I was walking I passed an alley that had Himiko-chan and Dabi-kun in it and it turns out that Himiko-chan was hurt and homeless and Dabi-kun is not hurt but is also homeless so I… brought them home?” 

Hitoshi blinks, then holds out a hand, “You’re going to have to explain that further.”

___

Izuku was walking down the street, tapping away at his phone. He was a bit disappointed that he didn’t find anything that caught his fancy but it wasn’t a big deal. He could just come back another day. As he passed an alleyway, he heard muffled crying as well as a man’s voice quietly hushing them. He peeked into the alley to see a tall heavily scarred man looking at the bloody knee of a blonde teenage girl. It’s bleeding quite heavily and it seemed like she cut it on a rock or maybe a piece of glass. “It’s okay, Himiko. It’ll be okay,” The man whispered quietly. 

“I’m sorry, Dabi-kun. I didn’t mean to get a cut,” she cries, “It really hurts…”

“I know.” 

Izuku blinked before he ducked back out and headed to the nearby convenience store. Luckily, it was a bored teen manning the counter so they didn't pay him a mind as he purchased a small first aid kit. He headed back out towards the alley. The two were still there luckily so Izuku approached them calmly, calling out, “Um excuse me.”

The girl flinched as the man turned, holding out a hand as blue flames erupted from it. Izuku squeaked and backed up a step, holding up the first aid kit in front of his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I saw you were hurt and thought you could use this first aid kit. I can just set it down and leave.” 

The man scowled, “Yeah why don’t you do that-”

“Dabi, be nice!” The girl admonished before she grinned at Izuku, “Thank you so much! You’re so nice! And so cute too!”

“Uh… thanks. So… first aid kit?” 

The man, Dabi, glanced between the two before he sighed and held out a hand, now flame free. Izuku approached and gave him the kit. He then crouched to watch as Dabi pulled out various pieces of the kit. He very carefully cleaned the blonde’s knee with some antiseptic. The girl winced but didn’t look away from where Dabi was cleaning the wound. It seemed she was kind of entranced by the wound. A bit odd. Until Izuku caught sight of the fangs that peeked out of her mouth. He gasped in wonder, “You have a blood quirk!” 

Both tensed as the girl shuffled her feet nervously, “Yeah… When I consume someone’s blood, I can shift into that person.”

“That’s amazing! Have you ever thought of being a hero with that? You would be awesome! You could be one of the best underground espionage heroes the world has ever seen with that kind of quirk!” 

“You think so? But mom and dad said that I’m nothing but a monster. That’s why they said I wasn’t allowed to live with them anymore… That I wasn’t allowed to come home anymore,” Her face was nothing but sad as she said it. Izuku’s heart froze when hearing that. “Your parents threw you out… because of your quirk?” He asked quietly. 

She nodded as Dabi stayed quiet and just continued to clean her wound. Izuku turned to the man, “What about you?”

“What about me?” He asked in return.

“Do you have somewhere to go? A family or a home?”

“No,” Dabi said curtly, “Haven’t since I was thirteen. My family thinks I’m dead. I woke up from a three year coma, the hospital released me, and I haven’t gone back home since. I can’t even imagine what my father might say if I even tried.” 

Izuku noticed how he spit the word father as if it was a curse. “And how old are you now?”

“... Twenty. Almost twenty-one,” He could tell that Dabi was trying to come across as flippant but his voice was just full of sorrow. 

Great. Two people who have been wronged by their parents. Yet again. Izuku huffed out a sigh as Dabi finished up patching the girl’s wound. “Okay, do either of you have anywhere to go?”

Both shook their heads negatively. Izuku quickly packed up and picked up the new first aid kit before he stood up, “Great! C’mon then! You both are coming home with me!”

“Huh?” Dabi asked him. “You two. Are coming home. With me,” He said again slowly. 

“Really?” The girl asked next.

“Yep! I’ve already taken in one stray human, what’s two more! Granted it’ll be much easier ensuring Dabi-kun can stay with us than you… Your parents will have to be dealt with but I’ll call Iwai-san as soon as we get home. Also, I’ll need to look for a bigger place for us. Two bedrooms aren’t exactly going to fit four people comfortably. Hopefully Hitoshi won’t mind moving.”

The girl shrieked in happiness and jumped over to him excitedly. Dabi sputtered before he spit out, “Wait, hold on! You can’t just decide that! We can’t just go home with you!”

“Sure you can!” Izuku chirped. 

“Wha-? No! We don’t even know you! You don’t even know us! We’re strangers! ” Dabi continued to fight.

“Oh! You’re right!” Izuku pointed to himself with a smile, “I’m Midoriya Izuku! I heard you were Dabi. What’s your name?” Izuku asked the girl. 

“Toga Himiko!” She gave without hesitation.

“Himiko, don’t just tell him!” Dabi admonished.

“What? He asked,” she shrugged.

Dabi buried his face into his hands with a groan, “Is no one else seeing any problems with what this kid is saying?”

“No,” Izuku said just as Himiko parrotted her own, “Nope!”

Dabi groaned again. Himiko bounced back over to Dabi and took his hand, “Dabi, it’s okay. I don’t see any other options for us. And Izuku-kun really seems to want to help! Why else would he get a first aid kit to patch me up? I think we should just trust him! As weird as I know that sounds.”

It was quiet for a bit before Dabi sighed again, “Okay, fine. FINE! But if we end up dead or arrested, I blame you!”

Himiko cheered happily, asking Izuku if Hitoshi was as cute as he was. Izuku just smiled and led the way home. For all of them.

___

“And that’s what happened,” Izuku says, finishing up the story. 

Hitoshi massages his temples, “That’s… that’s a lot, I’m not going to lie.”

“You aren’t going to make me kick them out are you?” 

Hitoshi hunches down at that question. “I mean… You pay the rent and for all our food and stuff. So it’s not like I can viably say, ‘I hate this idea, get rid of them.’”

“Yes you can!” Dabi cries, “Someone else needs to have a bit of common sense besides me! I’m not supposed to be the only responsible one here!”

“But… You’re the adult in the house now?” Izuku tilts his head as if confused.

Dabi’s mind seems to blank at that information. Then his shoulders drop as he moans, “Oh fuck, I am aren’t I?”

Izuku and Himiko both laugh at that. Hitoshi can’t help but smile at how well they get along. Then he sighs, “Okay, so I guess this is a thing now. What do we need to do first?”

“First things first, send a message to Iwai-san about a new case for Himiko to get out of her horrible parents’ custody! CATRA, get on it!” He pointed at the computer screens in the living room. The green cat avatar appeared with a small purr of a greeting, “Understood Izuku-kun! Welcome home to you two as well, Dabi-kun and Himiko-chan!”

“Ooo! Kitty!” Himiko shrieks happily, running over to watch CATRA. 

“Indeed! Meanwhile, I-” Izuku points to himself dramatically, “Will start looking for bigger accommodations for us. I’m thinking maybe four or five rooms. I wonder if they’d let me buy a house. Maybe I could put it under Dabi’s name?” Izuku moves over to the couch, taking a seat on it and grabbing his keyboard. He then zones out to the rest of them as he gets to work on his assigned task.

“How is he even thinking of paying for all that?” Dabi asks incredulously. 

“Izuku’s secretly rich,” Hitoshi says but doesn’t clarify any further than that. Just leaves to go start packing his meager amount of things. Knowing Izuku, they’d have a new place by the end of the day. 

“What does that mean?” Dabi sounds almost fearful before following after him, calling out again, “Wait! What does that mean?!”

Hitoshi smirks. Maybe this could be fun. Like teasing an older brother.

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke - chapter 12

Last time, Gold got teased by Swanfire, Lacey got teased by Ruby, and both of them were convinced that the other hates them.

[AO3]

x

Gold rummaged in the cupboard for a plastic tub, fishing one out and setting it on the kitchen counter. He could hear Emma and Neal in the lounge, changing Henry’s diaper and getting him ready for the trip home. They had spent a pleasant Sunday at the park, picnicking on a blanket in the warm sunshine, but it was time for his family to head back to Boston. Gold opened his cake tins, cutting a thick wedge of the date and walnut cake he had made and putting it in the plastic tub. He added half a dozen stem ginger cookies and put on the lid, carrying it through to the lounge.

“Here,” he said, offering it to Emma. “Something for the road.”

“Thanks.” She opened up the tub and took a deep inhale before putting the lid back on. “Smells delicious. You’re too good to us.”

“Well, I have no one else to spoil,” said Gold, with a grin. “Besides, it stops me eating it.”

Neal drained his glass of milk, setting it down on the little table next to Gold’s chair, and Gold took a seat as he watched them both pack away Henry’s changing mat and diapers. Henry pushed to his feet, toddling towards Gold and reaching up with flailing arms. He caught the empty glass, sending it flying to the ground. Emma looked up at the crash of glass, and winced.

“Dammit!” she said, as Henry began to cry. “Sorry.”

“No matter.” Gold scooped Henry up and bounced him on his knee. “No damage done. Well, except to the glass.”

“Yeah, no fixing that,” said Emma, frowning at the broken glass. “Neal, could you get a brush or something?”

“Dustpan’s under the sink,” called Gold, as Neal headed for the kitchen.

“I got it.”

Emma squatted down and began stacking curved pieces of glass on her palm.

“Just leave it for Neal,” said Gold. “You’ll cut yourself.”

“It’s fine, I got - ow!”

There was a tinkling of glass as Emma dropped the shards. She winced, sucking a cut finger, and Gold shook his head.

“I did say.”

“Yeah…” She inspected the cut. “You got a Band-Aid?”

“Kitchen drawer,” said Gold, and Emma nodded, pushing to her feet.

He looked down at Henry, who had stopped crying, but had grasped his tie and was chewing on it. Gold rolled his eyes, pulling it from Henry’s grasp and sighing as he saw the extensive patch of drool.

“I think a teething ring might be more beneficial, what do you say?” he said, bouncing him on his knee again. Henry gurgled happily, and Gold grinned, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Okay, let me get that mess.” Neal entered with a dustpan and brush, squatting down to sweep up the shards and tiny specks of glass. 

“I’ll run the vacuum over it when you’ve gone,” said Gold, still bouncing Henry. “You will give me a call when you get home?”

“Sure.”

“I mean as soon as you get home, not ten o’clock at night when I’ve already convinced myself you’re all dead in a ditch.”

“Dad...”

“Fine.” Gold transferred Henry to his other knee. “It’s been great to see you all. I’ll try to drive down to Boston in the next few weeks, if you like.”

“You’re always welcome, you know that.” Neal finished brushing up the broken glass. “Although sleeping on our couch can’t be good for your leg.”

“Well, I can always get a hotel for the night,” said Gold. “And you’re welcome to come here whenever you want to get out of the city. I don’t exactly have much company otherwise.”

“You sure about that?”

Emma’s voice from the doorway made him look around, and he felt his mouth fall open in horror. She was smirking at him, one hand raised and a very small pair of coral-coloured panties swinging from an outstretched finger.

“Where the hell did you get those?” asked Neal.

“Kitchen drawer,” said Emma, and raised an eyebrow at Gold. “I’m guessing they’re not yours, so how did they end up in your kitchen, hmm?”

Gold could feel his mouth opening and closing, and snapped it shut.

“Small…” Emma turned the panties this way and that. “Coral pink - nice colour by the way - and very, very - lacy.”

She was grinning at him, and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

“I assure you there’s a perfectly innocent explanation,” he said.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear it,” chuckled Emma. “You gonna try to tell us you keep her underwear in the kitchen drawer because you secretly hate each other?”

“It was the cat,” said Gold lamely.

“Oh, come on…”

“I’m serious!” he insisted.

“That is the worst attempt at a lie I ever heard,” said Neal, grinning.

“It’s true!” Gold regretted not throwing the panties away when he had the chance. “I kept finding them in the lounge. Six pairs! And a bra!”

“And the cat put them there,” said Neal, in a flat voice. “Right...”

“I saw him do it!” insisted Gold.

“I could make the obvious joke about pussy,” said Emma, “but you’re my father-in-law and it’d be weird.”

“And yet you said it anyway.” Neal ran his hands over his face with a groan, and she chuckled.

“Sorry. Look, Pops, if she’s leaving her underwear in your kitchen she definitely likes you.”

“She hates me!” snapped Gold. “She bloody well threw a drink over me when I tried to give them back to her! Called me a pervert!”

“You two…” Emma shook her head. “Worst flirts in the entire world.”

“Calling someone a pervert is not flirting!”

“Would you just admit you like her?”

She tossed the panties to him, and Gold fumbled as he grabbed at them.

“Certainly not,” he said coolly. “And the feeling is extremely mutual.” 

“Fine,” sighed Emma. “Just - why don’t you try talking to her? Nice, normal conversation. Maybe buy her a coffee.”

“It’s not as though we have anything in common,” said Gold. “Thankfully she isn’t a tenant, and I doubt she has an interest in antiques. There’s no reason for our paths to cross.”

x

Lacey had decided that if she were ever to have the poor judgement to agree to another breakfast interview, she certainly wouldn’t conduct it in Granny’s Diner.

Sidney had suggested it, what with Granny’s being the beating heart of Storybrooke, and Zelena West wanting to emphasise her community spirit. Lacey had thought it was definitely worth a try. Who could hold back when faced with hot coffee and fresh muffins, after all?

Unfortunately, the diner was busy during the breakfast service, and while the noise meant that their conversation wouldn’t be difficult to overhear, it also meant that she had an audience of curious townsfolk watching her every move as she greeted her interviewee. Two men on the nearest table didn’t hide their interest; one of them she knew was called Leroy, who had a bristling black beard and a permanent scowl on his face. The other she didn’t know by name, but he was perhaps a little older than Leroy, with sleepy eyes and an easy, relaxed manner. The two always ate breakfast together, and she hadn’t worked out if they were colleagues or boyfriends. They certainly bickered enough that it could have gone either way.

Leroy took a bite of his breakfast muffin, watching as she stood up to greet Zelena West. The little she knew of the woman hadn’t impressed her, and meeting her properly did nothing to change that. Zelena looked her up and down when Lacey introduced herself, lip curling a little before she bared her teeth in a smile. Reddish curls fell around her shoulders beneath a wide-brimmed black hat that Lacey privately thought made her look like a witch.

“Are you Sidney’s office girl, or something?” she asked.

“No, I’m conducting the interview,” said Lacey. “We spoke on the phone, remember?”

“Yes, but I presumed you were - qualified.” Zelena appeared to be checking the length of her skirt. “How old are you, anyway? You look as though you should still be in school.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” said Lacey, trying not to let her smile turn into a grimace. “Mostly from horny scumbags with no brains and no class. I’m sure you’re not like that, right?”

Leroy appeared to choke on his muffin before coughing loudly. Zelena shot her a narrow-eyed look, and Lacey’s smile widened. 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” she suggested. “Coffee? How about a little something sweet? The banana-pecan muffins are great.”

“I never eat carbs in the morning,” said Zelena. “Just coffee will be fine. Black.”

Lacey nodded, and raised a hand to attract Ruby’s attention. She could already tell that this was going to be one of her more irritating interviewees.

Once they had their coffee, Lacey started with the questions. She made notes as Zelena talked about her difficult early life, her experience of the foster system and how that had made her determined to make life better for others. A few of the facts she dropped made Lacey’s nose twitch in interest, the sense of a story untold, a story that it would take more investigation to unearth. A topic for another day, perhaps.

“So what made you move to Storybrooke?” she asked. “Seems a weird choice. I mean as far as charity goes, I’m guessing the resources here are way more limited than they are in New York.”

“Perhaps,” said Zelena. “But there again the competition for the funds raised is far fiercer. At least in a small town, those that give so generously can see the benefits almost immediately.”

“I guess,” said Lacey, scribbling hard. “Pretty weird what happened with the nuns, though, huh? I heard there was some mix-up at Miners’ Day. Some inaccuracy in the total raised?”

“Oh, the nun put in charge of their stall was completely hopeless,” said Zelena, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “She was mistaken in her accounting, that’s all. I heard it’s not the first time.”

“Oh, so was that the same with the auction held this spring?” asked Lacey. “I spoke to a couple of people involved with that, and it’s weird. None of them seem to agree on the amount that went to the children’s ward.”

Zelena’s nostrils flared.

“I thought this interview was supposed to be about the dance I’ve organised, not past events,” she snapped. “The entire town is looking forward to it! I want this article to encourage as many people to attend as possible! Do charitable works count for nothing with you?”

“See, that’s the thing,” said Lacey, tapping her pencil against her notebook. “I heard you’ve done a number of fundraisers over the years since you got here. Bake sales, auctions, even some thing where you offered to go to dinner with the highest bidder, although it turned out you didn’t raise the sum you were hoping—”

“That was a misunderstanding,” said Zelena stiffly.

“—and out of all those events, there seems to be a common theme,” went on Lacey, “which is that the good causes you were raising money for don’t seem too clear on what share they were supposed to get of the proceeds. So what happened there?”

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“No,” said Lacey, twirling the pencil between her fingers. “Just asking questions. It’s what I do.”

“Well, stick to the questions I agreed with your editor,” snapped Zelena.

Lacey gave her a sweet smile, twirling the pencil between her fingers.

“I’m afraid Sidney didn’t tell me what those were,” she said. “So I’m having to wing it. Sorry about that.”

Over Zelena’s shoulder, she saw the diner door open and Mr Gold stepped through, taking a moment to remove the sunglasses he wore. He caught Lacey’s eye for a brief moment, and she felt her heart thump a little before looking away.

“I’m not about to sit here and listen to baseless accusations!” Zelena was glaring at her, pale blue eyes flashing. “Consider this interview over!”

She pushed to her feet, stepping back, and almost collided with Gold. He took a hasty step back from her, and Zelena’s face brightened as she showed white teeth in a wide, predatory grin. 

“Oh, Mr Gold,” she said, in honeyed tones. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Miss West,” he said neutrally. “Miss French. Please excuse me.”

He stepped to the side to go around her, and Zelena stepped with him, cutting off his path. Gold appeared to restrain himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she went on, in that sickly-sweet voice.

“My business hours are eight-thirty til six,” he said. “Please come to the shop if you need to make any representations regarding your rent.”

She gave a tinkling little laugh that made Lacey grimace.

“Oh, you’re so funny!” she said. “I always pay my debts.”

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

He bowed his head a little, a clear indication that, in his opinion, the conversation was over. He took a step to the left, and Zelena again moved with him. This time his eyes definitely rolled, his chin lifting a little and exposing his throat. Lacey found her eyes following the line of it, and hurriedly looked at the knot of his tie instead.

“It’s about the charity dance,” said Zelena. “It’s for a very good cause, the whole town is planning to be there, and yet I don’t seem to have had your response to my invitation.”

“Well, you just mentioned the words ‘dance’ and ‘the whole town’,” he said levelly. “Neither fills me with any great level of enthusiasm, I have to say. Excuse me.”

“But if you just let me explain—”

“Would you let the man get his coffee?” said Lacey impatiently. “We’re still wrapping up this interview, remember?”

Gold took the opportunity to slip past and head for the diner counter as Zelena rounded on her with a look of fury.

“You think I’m going to sit here and be accused of impropriety by a - a glorified intern?” she snapped. “I’ll be calling the paper today and insisting you be sacked!”

“Knock yourself out,” said Lacey, unconcerned. “I’ll just write up what I’ve got. This was going to be your opportunity to call bullshit on all the rumours that were flying around, but sure, I guess you could just read the piece when it’s out and let people make up their own minds.”

Zelena made a face like she was chewing a wasp. Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey noticed Gold glance over his shoulder with a tiny smirk on his face. Zelena bared her teeth.

“Five minutes,” she hissed. “And I’m still calling your editor.”

“Cool, whatever.” Lacey sat back down and gestured to the seat across from her. “So. Back to the dinner auction. Talk me through what happened.”

Zelena seemed to be struggling with something, but slowly lowered herself into the chair opposite, and Lacey gave her a wide smile. Perhaps she’d get to write something interesting after all.

[gayregis]

tbh as a polish person genuinely vibing with any kind of mostly english speaking witcher fandom is kinda hard bc theres just. so many small mistakes and just a feeling of Wrongness in the translation that couldve been fully avoided? like using womanizer instead of whoremonger for dandelion or saying comrade instead of friend etc and like im mad bc with some more effort it couldve been done way better and actually carried over more of the og atmosphere for international readers And It Didnt

i agree with you from the ‘can only read the english translations’ side. i feel like definitely the official UK translations shifted a lot of the meanings, of course i do not know how it is in every single scene, but from the lengthy posts i’ve read on reddit, some posts i’ve read on tumblr, and conversations i’ve had with mutuals over discord, plus just generally reading the books and saying to myself “wait, this doesn’t sound... cohesive?” i agree that are are a lot of changes that shift the perspective. 

one part of this is the deliberate mistranslation of general vocabulary used with the intention (i think) to give a more “medieval-ish fantasy” vibe to the work. i feel like david and danusia really went for some british slang that gives it a more “english medieval” feel (or at least, how medieval england is conceived of in the modern english-speaking imagination), when more widely-known words without such specific connotations (for the speaker and for the subject) would be more appropriate. 

for example, i have heard that a lot of the translations of “maiden” or “wench” are more akin to “girl/woman” in the original text. another example is “comely lad” VS “pretty boy,” two translations (the former official, the latter fan-translated) that mean the same thing essentially but the former one is “brit-ified” (to me, at least). and i know that sometimes the translators chose specific words to keep a “peasant-speak” vibe with the usage of specific language, for example, with milva, but instead of being confined to peasantry, it extends across a lot of characters. 

another part is figures of speech that don’t translate over due to being polish-specific idioms, or being reliant on the polish grammar structure. imo the translators are too eager to replace these with english figures of speech/idioms. a lot of the time when polish fans have pointed this out and said, this is different in the original text, the original idiom is so-and-so, which basically means this-and-this, i am able to understand the translated idiom, when it is in context. 

for example, i believe that in the english version of baptism of fire dandelion says to regis, “was it just you and your shadow?” and regis replies, “worse, i don’t even cast one.” but in the original text, the exchange goes something more like “were you drinking to the mirror?” “worse, i don’t even show up in mirrors.” the idiom “drinking to the mirror” meaning drinking alone does not exist in english, but it would have been at least a little obvious to me as a reader what the meaning of the idiom is. i suppose it is up to preference, but i would prefer to have the original figures of speech kept intact, with a little footnote at the bottom included for explaining context / what its meaning is.

another part is cultural references and history that end up getting lost. references to other works, etc. 

an example is in the edge of the world when torque says “good night” at the end to geralt and dandelion. without knowing the phrase, “where the devil says goodnight,” this is completely meaningless. and context about polish/broader european history is mostly also lost on a non-polish audience, because it is not something that is basic knowledge.

it doesn’t just extend to polish references, for example, regis quotes cicero quoting one of the seven sages, “omnia mea mecum porto,” basically “all that’s mine i carry with me,” which ig is a nod to how regis is a philosopher and lives simply, is a humanist, etc.

and this isn’t even beginning to touch all of the arthurian stuff he put in there.

mostly, i end up being clueless because i do not know what the original text was, and i know that if i could see the original text, i would not understand it and would need it explained to me. 

i guess a positive side of this is that i like uncovering what was originally said and hearing it explained, scouring the internet for someone who has addressed a specific passage or something... it helps foster some conversation, kind of like two kids comparing christmas presents - what’s in your translation? what’s in your translation? what’s in the original text? - it is fun to see everyone start posting pictures and screenshots of their books, like trying to unravel a mystery as a group, and i enjoy that, especially when there are more international translations than just polish original and english translation, i like seeing the czech, russian, spanish, french translations and then learning things from these languages/cultures/countries because they showed up in the text.

on the other hand, it hinders discussion because if people are operating on different translations, they will have widely different perspectives of the characters based upon what the characters said or how they were described. you are not the only person i’ve heard express this sentiment, and agreed that it’s difficult to “genuinely vibe” across language barriers regarding the series. polish geralt is a totally different character from english geralt, from what i’ve heard, to summarize it.

and even if you do research as an english-speaking person to find out the mistranslations, the meanings behind certain phrases or references, etc., you still will probably never understand it fully, nor will you uncover everything there is to uncover. 

i dislike leaving it like this, but it kind of “is what it is” with the language barriers and translations. a lot of the original atmosphere wasn’t and possibly will never be fully translated over (in some cases, it may be impossible). i would say don’t feel like you “have” to engage with every fan of the witcher books, if you feel you don’t vibe with english speaking witcher fandom that is okay and i hope that no one would judge you for it, everyone should hang out and talk with who they want to hang out and talk with. but i also get the disappointment because you want to connect, but there is just a lack of understanding. it shouldn’t be the burden to fall on you to be like, hey guys actually in the original text this scene is different / you’re misinterpreting this-- but if you ever want to say or make posts like this, i think this would be great and a contribution to the community. i would also say idk if it is possible if the interpretations are extremely different, but some broader themes like family, love, humanity, etc. imo do join the fans of the books in some way or another, big or small, despite how wonky the translations get. and finally, i want to say i am not here to give advice or consolation, because i certanly don’t know what can be done about this, i just want to respond to this and say that you’re not alone.