Tumgik
#the minimum wage to fifteen dollars an hour
trinketbug · 4 months
Text
people getting mad at me for drawing that furry inflation image being at a mcdonalds cuz we're boycotting mcdonalds. first of all mcdonalds is not on the bds boycott list rn. second of all do you think i could afford mcdonalds either way
6 notes · View notes
bigskydreaming · 10 months
Text
Pulling the old 'Percy Jackson-esque story about Irish mythology & foster kids (Irish gods had a long tradition of fostering, foster connections were more important in those myths than most biological ones even)' story out of storage for no particular reason but mostly to inspire me to work more on it this week.
*****
Santiago Garcia was twelve when he discovered his foster mom was a goddess.
At first, there was nothing particularly momentous about the day. If there had been he probably would have at least dressed up a little. Well. Okay, probably not. But he definitely wouldn't have answered the front door.
"Hello there," said the old dude on the other side, wearing a painfully fake smile that just screamed Stranger Danger. "I'm looking for your mother. Is she home?"
Santi squinted up at him and took an extra long slurp of Caprisun as he debated his answer. "Well, my mom's dead, so you're either not looking for her or you really suck at finding cemeteries."
"Fair enough," Old McWeirdo said with a laugh. The kind fake mall Santas laughed, for the whopping top dollar of fifteen bucks an hour, while badly hiding their resentment for the kids who didn't ask to be the reason they were barely making minimum wage while wearing itchy fake beards. It was around this point that Santi decided he officially didn't like this guy. At least now Brigitte couldn't say he wasn't giving people enough of a chance: he gave the dude a whole ten seconds.
"Is the owner of this house home then?"
Santi gave the matter another solid Caprisun slurp of consideration, and shrugged. "Lemme get her."
He moved to step back from the door, but when the trying-too-hard-to-be-friendly neighborhood creeper moved forward at the same time, he switched gears and shoved a foot against the back of the door to keep it from swinging open any wider.
"Sorry mister," he said with a painfully fake smile of his own. "I'm not supposed to let strangers in the house. Pervs and ax murderers and all that. Y'know how it is."
Enjoying the mild moment of surprise lifting the dude's snowy eyebrows halfway up his forehead, Santiago leaned backwards into the hall just far enough to yell down the length of it: "Brigitte! There's a weird old guy at the door for you!"
Then he settled in to wait, beaming innocently at the guy now eyeing him with an appraising gleam in one rheumy eye. "Smart lad. Commendable instincts."
"Cool. Didn't ask."
"Santi, what have I told you about answering the door - " came Brigitte's aggrieved rant from behind him as she emerged into the hall via the kitchen. But she cut off before she even got close to working up a good steam and Santi twisted to watch her come to a stop just behind him. Her usual smile was swapped out for a frown - one that skipped him over entirely, and framed their 'guest' squarely centered in its bullseye. She wiped her hands dry with a dish towel before slinging it over one shoulder and brushing her red hair out of her eyes with the back of her other arm.
"Uncle Auggie," she said after moment. "It's been an age."
Santi frowned then himself. He may've only been living with her for all of six months, but he'd been pretty sure he knew all of her moods by now. This edge to her words though? It was one hundred percent new. To him at least. But apparently not to the cautionary tale on the stairs, considering his smile didn't so much as flicker at the less than warm welcome.
Not phased in the least, Allegedly-Uncle-Auggie just kept smiling that dumb smile that usually only ever meant one of two things: either no one was home behind it, or someone was home but someone was a liar. Santi did not like that smile. He did not trust that smile. He subtly sidled back a step and allowed Brigitte to slip between them. He would of course, later deny upon pain of death that he felt in any way in need of his thirty-something year old foster mom's protection or some ridiculous nonsense like that, but like. That was Later's problem.
"You know how it is when I get carried away with my studies. I lock myself in my room with my books and by the time I look up again, its been another ten years or more. Everything's gone and changed when I wasn't looking."
He nodded down at where one of Brigitte's hands had found its way to one of Santiago's shoulders, without either of them noticing. "But then of course, some things, it seems, never change at all."
This close to her side, Santi felt more than heard Brigitte suck in a sharp breath, disguising it behind a more even, more deliberate inhalation the second she came aware of it herself. She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, and then said: "Santi, could you please go to your room? I need a minute with my uncle."
Later, he would wonder what possessed him to say the following, like he was some kind of idiot. He was not normally any kind of idiot. Really, he wasn't.
"Wait, he's seriously your uncle? I thought you said you didn't have any family."
"I lied," Brigitte said evenly, still not tearing her eyes away from their visitor. Whose smile, in turn, still had not wavered even a centimeter. Ugh. So creepy.
"You always were as creative with the truth as with everything else," Uncle Awful - sorry, Auggie - said with what was probably supposed to sound like affection maybe?
"This isn't a scheduled reunion, Uncle," she said. "Let's not reminisce."
"Right. Leaving. Got it," Santi muttered under his breath. The frost from that cold front paradoxically lit a fire to his movements and he turned to head up the stairs to his room. "Guess I'll leave you two alone then. But only cuz I'm gonna go figure out what you owe me now for lying to me and stuff, cuz like, 'we gotta have trust Santi,' remember?"
"Excellent use of leverage," Uncle Auggie called after him, leaning into the doorway to shoot him a conspiratorial wink that he most definitely did not order. On account of how they were not now (or likely to ever be) conspiring. He had standards. Probably. He'd never had to use them for this particular scenario before but he was pretty sure he could find them if he looked and this guy would not be making the list.
Brigitte's hand slammed into the side of the door, creating a barrier between their line of sight.
"He doesn't need your approval."
"Daaaaaang," Santi whispered to himself then, and he took the stairs two at a time.
Once up the stairs and around the corner though, Santi stopped and huddled against the wall, listening to the movements from below. Look, clearly weirdness was happening, and as a resident of this house, especially a newish resident who was still undecided as to whether or not he even liked it here….he had a right - no, a mandate - to figure out just what that weirdness was. And more importantly: if it was the kinda weirdness he wanted any part of. And since apparently he couldn't trust Brigitte to not just like, lie to him....he had no choice but to snoop.
His logic here was sound, okay? He'd definitely thought this through.
Pressing his ear up against the wall at the top of the landing, he strained to listen to the hushed voices going at it back and forth down below. That part didn't really work. It was a lot of stairs, and its not like he had super hearing. So, when the little he could hear - and also the shadows on the wall - all added up to Brigitte surprisingly not kicking The Uncle Nobody Thought Was Worth Mentioning (And Probably For A Reason) to the curb?! And instead letting him into the house, where their footsteps then headed off down the hall towards the small study where she usually graded her students' homework and stuff? Well really, at that point he was left with no choice but to sneak back down the stairs and edge as quietly as he could towards the study and the angry noises coming from inside.
If you're gonna do a thing, you might as well do it to the best of your ability or else why're you even doing it at all? That's just commitment, and like, commitment's a good thing, obviously. Everyone knows that.
Again, no matter what anyone might claim later, every single part of this had been very intelligently thought through. Well reasoned from every angle.
In fact, Santi was leaning towards rating his decision making thus far as stellar.
And if later, looking back on this moment with future friends only to have them use it as an example of how 'hubris' was not just a thing to be wary of when dealing with Greek gods, well. Nobody said they were going to be good friends.
But of course, all of that was also Later's problem. We're getting a bit ahead of ourselves, and today would have more than enough problems to keep Santiago Garcia busy for quite some time.
5 notes · View notes
myanonymousflower · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's Not a Big Deal by AidaRonan
Transcript:
“I make them all by hand,” the shop owner says. “Do you play, or are you just here with those kids?”
“No, I don’t play.” Steve can’t stop staring at one set. It’s red and black, the colors all swirled together like the body of Eddie’s old guitar. The numbers are gray–the tone muted, just light enough that they show up. The font style is, well, Steve doesn’t know how to categorize it but he’s pretty sure it’s ‘metal’.
Fifteen dollars. Fifteen is a lot more than three. That’s five hours of minimum wage work at a job Steve doesn’t have yet. Nearly two tanks of gas (and Steve spends a lot on gas with the damn kids.)
“I know someone who does though. Besides them.” Steve gestures in the general direction of the kids.
“You wanna see any? Get a closer look?”
Steve shakes his head, because he was always gonna buy them, wasn’t he? The agonizing? Just a formality. “I’ll take the red ones.”
5 notes · View notes
frogsandfries · 2 months
Text
Well........ I've had a great day
I had to leave work early Friday, too, because I wasn't feeling well.
I got to work today, the phone went off immediately and I just had a meltdown. I'm so fucking beyond exhausted. I still haven't gotten over the heat sickness from several weeks ago, when I then still had to take care of my sister's animals without any chance to rest. Then these last two weeks of helping her out, especially in the evening, while working nonstop calls at work during the day. Then today, I got on the phones with an upset stomach and a raging headache, too scared to take a naproxen while I was at the house alone because I haven't taken naproxen since I was a kid, and after covid, I'm allergic to ibuprofen. I kept turning the AC down further and further and I swear, I kept getting hotter and hotter. I wanted to take my shirt off but there's a camera in my fucking face all day.
I absolutely fucking hate this job. I've been done with it since a couple months after I started, but I thought maybe I could find something else within the company, so I stayed and kept looking for something else. I've applied to a buuuunnncchh of things and never even gotten an email back. Or maybe I have. But my fucking work email is fucking broken and no one has ever bothered to fix it for me. Being on camera all day to make sure I'm like, working or don't have other people in the room or whatever is fucking bullshit.
Anyway. The house of cards has fallen. I'm out. I'm going to quit, with my sister's encouragement, and bust my ass to find something else. But I need something that pays proportional to the amount of abuse I'll be taking.
I don't necessarily mind working nonstop back-to-back calls. My problem is, fifteen dollars an hour is practically minimum wage these days. It's nothing. And for all the bullshit I have to put up with, between the camera and the stupid fucking metrics and all the fucking programs, one more and one more and now you have to do this, add this, now this, oh but it's making the job better. No. It's making my job more difficult, you corporate deep-throaters.
My arms are covered in hives.
I'm going to take a shower and force myself to eat some more food. Man, I brought hummus and pretzel cracker/chip things up here with me for breakfast and I was so looking forward to snacking on it. But you don't eat when you're asleep, so I took it downstairs to the fridge.
0 notes
lboogie1906 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mayor Andre DeShawn Dickens (born June 17, 1974) is a politician and nonprofit executive who is the 61st and current mayor of Atlanta. He was a member of the Atlanta City Council (2013-21) and defeated Council President Felicia Moore in the second round of Atlanta’s 2021 mayoral election. He was the chief development officer at TechBridge, a nonprofit technology organization. He served as the chairperson of the transportation committee and chaired the Public Safety and Legal Administration Committee.
He co-founded a Technology Career Program for the unemployed to be able to learn new tech skills and other IT training to take advantage of the booming tech jobs market. He serves on the Georgia Tech Alumni Board, the Alumnus Leadership Atlanta, Diversity Leadership Atlanta, United Way VI, and Regional Leadership Institute. He is a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternit, he joined at Georgia Tech.
He is a deacon at the New Horizon Baptist Church. He has one daughter.
He was born in Atlanta. Raised by his mother Sylvia Dickens and stepfather. He attended Benjamin Elijah Mays High School before enrolling at the Georgia Institute of Technology, where he received his BS in Chemical Engineering. He received his MPA in Economic Development from Georgia State University.
He began his professional career as a part-time chemical engineer for BP-Amoco, and the position became full-time. He was employed at DSM Engineering and Plastics where he was a sales engineer. He and his older sister co-founded City-Living Home Furnishing. The furnishing company was around for nine years (2002-11) and became a multi-million dollar business in only two locations.
He advocated for the improvement of public safety, the need for affordable housing, having programs for citizens, and creating more opportunities for students in the Public School system. He sponsored legislation that made the minimum wage for city employees fifteen dollars an hour. He created the Department of Transportation, the BeltLine Inclusionary Zoning which increased affordable housing in the area, and the Atlanta Youth Commission. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence #kappaalphapsi
0 notes
zxvtrpnljhfdb · 1 year
Text
I am soooo really, seriously fucked
However good my ex made my life, they made it double awful. I make too much for fucking food stamps. Like, where the fuck am I supposed to live in this state where I can pay less than a fucking thousand dollars AND work from home AND fucking exist???
I'm not fucking giving up my cats to clear maybe a hundred bucks a month of my fucking budget. My cats mean more to me than a hundred bucks. I'm not moving to a "more affordable" area of town. People are already fucking doing pills just off the property!
So great fucking news, to anyone who's reading this: Being a single person earning two thousand dollars per month, paying a thousand dollars in rent, I don't fucking qualify for medicaid. Which was fucking keeping me alive.
So I get to go without my depression meds and my blood pressure meds.
I get to go back to a world where my depression fucking owns me and blood pressure migraines cause me to miss work. I told the poor gal who was doing my interview, I might as well go on disability. Disability would honestly pay better and more consistently than me struggling against constant migraines and my depression to hold a fucking job.
I can't afford insurance. I can't afford to pay for my meds. After rent and bills, I get to keep less than nine hundred of my two thousand dollars per month. I can't even afford a fucking mattress. I can't even afford to pay my fucking student loans. Groceries?? Winter isn't coming. Winter has fucking bowled my ass into the ground. I have quickly gone from the sidelines of yeah yeah, burn it down, to I'm about to be out in the fucking streets tomorrow burning cars and smashing windows. Why the fuck ask me what my fucking rent is if you aren't taking that into consideration???
Why the fuck am I making fifteen fucking dollars per hour if I can't even afford to live by myself? How has fifteen dollars an hour gone from pretty nice money to fucking minimum fucking wage?? In like, a couple years.
The system. Isn't. Fucking. Working. Burn it to the fucking ground. I'm not getting rid of my fucking cats to save about a hundred bucks a month. Having my cats isn't the fucking problem. Avo-fucking-cado toast and Starbucks frappu-fucking-ccino isn't the fucking problem.
0 notes
Text
Do you get a badge when you unionize? I get it, vote for badges!
May twelfth:Disney’s starting pay is eighteen dollars an hour. Which is okay. In 2020 Florida passed a bill that would raise the minimum wage to fifteen dollars an hour by twenty twenty five. A well payed fascist state. It should be more than that, but when you mix Florida in it all becomes the 2000 election. Every one should at least get some of that Florida pay.Why time? Entropy is a…
View On WordPress
0 notes
flimsy-roost · 1 year
Text
Idea for a public art installation series:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Machines, dressed up like arcade/amusement park ticket eaters/dispensers, that dispense one dollar at a time at the rate of minimum wage (ie, in an area with a $15 dollar/hour minimum wage, it dispenses one dollar every four minutes). The dispensing timer does not restart until the prior dollar is taken, so the only way to "earn" the advertised wage is to stand and wait, taking each dollar immediately. These rules, along with any variations specific to that particular machine, are explained clearly in every language common to the area.
Some rule/machine variations may include:
In regions where there is a lower minimum wage for children under a certain age, this lower wage is dispensed through a dollar slot installed at two-thirds height.
In regions where tipped professions have a lower minimum wage, this is the base wage dispensed. The machine has a button that turns on an optional camera, and is equipped with basic facial structure recognition. As long as you hold down the button while smiling, the wage rate is increased to the local baseline minimum.
The machine advertises that there is one 100 dollar bill in the machine, placed in the stack of singles at random. This is a lie.
These machines could be installed in a wide variety of locations with a wide variety of rules, but they all share one trait in common: the cash dispensing compartment is not prohibitively difficult to open. Anyone with fifteen minutes and decent lockpicking abilities and/or a sledgehammer could get in if they set their mind to it. If the door to the compartment is opened/destroyed by anyone other than the dollar restocker (perhaps they have an RFID chip to tap, or a nonsensical extra step), a glitter bomb goes off, circus music plays quietly from inside, and the "thieves" see and hear the message, posted/spoken clearly, in every language common to the area, in perpetuity:
"Congratulations! You understood the assignment!"
0 notes
dawnofdoomsday · 2 years
Text
What if, instead of arguing minimum wage being between fifteen and twenty dollars an hour; everybody just shut their faces, and waited quietly, and witness that $(15.50)x60 minutes turned into r$(35)x=hour. I'm waiting....
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
0 notes
raaorqtpbpdy · 3 years
Text
I hate living in a capitalist hellscape where I have to sell hours of my time one after another to people who don’t value them or care to use them well, for fifteen measly bucks, and knowing that others have to sell their hours for less than ten dollars or else they’ll die.
5 notes · View notes
luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
Bring It On Home
Tumblr media
Summary: After one of her regular customers catches her boss stealing her tips, the reader gets a job from Jensen. She figures he’s just being a nice guy but after a run in with a stranger they both learn exactly what they really are to one another...
Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader
Word Count: 10,500ish
Warnings: language, angst, mention of death/drug use/smut/scary situations, fluff
A/N: Felt like putting a little spin on this one! Enjoy!
______
“Mr. Ackles,” you smirked as he wandered up to the counter with a big smile. “I thought you told me not to sell you anymore donuts. I thought you were slimming down for your next role.”
“Oh, I never said such a thing,” he smirked. “You got any of those maple cinnamon creme filled ones left?”
“Looks like we got one left,” you said. He set his starbucks cup and sunglasses down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. I’ll take a butterscotch for De and a dozen of the minis for the kiddos,” he said.
“Anything in particular?” you asked as you started to put together his order.
“Surprise me,” he said.
“I’ll go with glazed and chocolate to be safe,” you said. You set the bag and box down, ringing him up. “Oh and I gotta say, I really liked the new album. You guys were really good.”
“Well thank you very much, Y/N,” he smiled. He stuffed a big tip in the jar like he always did and you gave him a look. “Oh I know you saved that donut for me. Don’t pretend.”
“The fact you come in here every single Thursday at 10:07 in the morning when you’re not working and order the same donut every single time? Oh I don’t know who thought to do that,” you said. 
“Mhm. See ya next week, kid,” he said as he headed out.
“Bye, Mr. Ackles,” you said. You saw your manager give you a side eye and you pouted.
“I thought I told you to stop bothering him,” she said.
“He’s nice. It’s a small place. He comes in every week,” you said. She took the money out of the tip jar and shoved it in her pockets. You sighed and heard the door open again, Jensen shaking his head.
“Sorry, left my sunglasses,” he said. He picked them up and paused, staring at the jar. “I just put twenty dollars in there.”
You looked at your manager and she pretended to have to go sign for something. You wiped down the counter and saw him still standing there.
“Can I get you anything else?” you asked. You straightened up and his lip was pursed. 
“Does your boss take your tips?” he asked.
“We pool tips here, Mr. Ackles. You know that,” you said.
“Yeah but you make minimum wage. She doesn’t. Does your boss take a cut of the tips?” he asked. You didn’t say anything but apparently you did. He grumbled and pulled out a twenty, sliding it across the counter. “That’s yours, not hers. While I’m at it, I’m gonna say what I’ve been thinking for like, the entire time you’ve waited on me and just go to school. You are way too smart to be working a job like this the rest of your life.”
“Mr. Ackles you don’t-”
“You don’t ring people up. You do the math in your head. You always give me a total before it pops up on the screen. You got a brain. Use it for something better than this, kid,” he said. 
“Not everyone is fortunate enough to do that,” you said. 
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty two,” you said.
“You got a car?” he asked.
“Yeah?” you said.
“Congratulations. You’re the newest bartender at my brewery. Starts at fifteen bucks an hour,” he said.
“Is that in the morning?” you asked. 
“It’s probably evenings, afternoons. Why?” he asked. 
“I have another job,” you said. “I can’t work later than noon.”
“You can work in the brewery in the morning then. We got a deal?” he asked. You nodded and he pulled a card out of his wallet. “Call me when you’re done with work today and we’ll get you set up, okay?”
“Thank you. This is gonna help so much,” you said. He smiled and nodded. 
“Just hang in there for now. It’ll get better.”
Three Weeks Later
“Good morning,” you heard as you dropped a sack on the floor. You were panting and sweaty, Jensen smiling as he saw you. “Whoa, what are you doing moving those by yourself.”
“My boss said they need to get moved. I was getting started without him was all,” you said.
“Okay your boss is my business partner so I’m like your boss too and no we do not move seventy pound bags by ourselves, understand?” he asked.
“Sorry,” you said, wiping your hand over your face. 
“Are you okay?” he asked. “It’s just a bag on the floor.”
“Yeah. I just don’t want to screw this up,” you said. “I really need the money.”
“Well relax. It’s only your second week,” he said. You nodded and he squatted down, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. He walked it over to where they were being moved and tossed it down. “Come here.”
You scurried over and he crossed his arms, looking back at the pallet of raw hops and the bag by his feet.
“Figure out how to make this more efficient,” he said.
“What?”
“I didn’t hire you because I felt sorry for you and I didn’t do it because you’re stronger than the grown men here. You got a brain and I want you to use it. Figure out a way to make this process better. Tell your boss when you got something,” he said.
“Yes sir,” you said.
“None of that sir shit, kid. Just Jensen, okay?”
“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked away, a pit forming in your stomach. You were so getting fired. You should have just sucked it up and stayed at the donut shop. You’d quit there and your pizza shop job went away when they closed up last week. You knew you could squeak by until you found another part time job. “Jensen?”
He spun around halfway across the room and you swallowed.
“I’m available in the evenings now. I can bartend too if you still need that,” you said.
“I can give you two shifts a week. Same pay. That work?” he asked.
“Yes that’s great,” you said.
“Good. Figure out the bags, Y/N,” he said before he went off. You felt a little better at least. You stared at the bags and pallet, trying to figure out the best way to get the bags over with all of the equipment in the way.
One Hour Later
“So you figured it out,” said Jensen with a knowing smile after you’d told him about your idea to use the forklift to drive around outside and then back in through the other smaller door to bring the bags over to the other side of the equipment. “Took a little longer than I was expecting.”
You frowned and he chuckled.
“Relax. It was a test,” he said.
“A test?” you said and he hummed. “For what?”
“I think your talents would be better suited for stocking management at the moment. You’re gonna track orders as they come in, manage storage, help the workflow stay on track. Sound good?” he asked.
“Yes. Definitely,” you said.
“People are around to help but I think you’ll do just fine,” he said. “I gotta run. Don’t forget to take a lunch break at some point.”
“Jensen. Thanks for the job. Really,” you said.
“You go to college and then you can thank me,” he said. “See you around, kid.”
One Month Later
“Mmm,” you hummed at the end of your shift tending bar. You were sipping on a can of beer and eating a slice of pizza on the quiet patio, a few people finishing up with their drinks before the place closed up for the night.
“Excuse me,” said an older man, probably in his fifties. You stopped mid-chew and he put on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. You just look a lot like someone I know. Well I didn’t know her but…”
“Howdy,” said Jensen as he wandered out from the taproom. It wasn’t lost on anyone how he put himself between you and the man. “Enjoying your night sir?”
“Yes. I was just chatting to the young lady here. I thought I knew her from somewhere…” he trailed off. Jensen looked back at you and you swallowed down the pizza in your mouth.
“She must have one of those faces,” he said. “We’re closing up for the night soon sir.”
“I’m not trying to bother her,” he said.
“I know you’re not,” said Jensen. The man didn’t leave though and he stiffened up. “Sir. The young lady doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t know you. Please return to your table.”
“I do know her though,” he said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t…” you said. 
“Y/N, go inside,” said Jensen. 
“Okay, this is a very awkward situation. But I need to talk to her in private,” said the man. Jensen chuckled but you heard the dark edge to it.
“I need you to leave,” said Jensen.
“I’m a cop.”
“I don’t care if you’re the Easter bunny. You are making my employee uncomfortable,” said Jensen. The man stared at him and then you. Jensen grabbed your arm and started walking inside with you when the man grabbed your hand. “Get your fucking hands off-”
“Y/N, I know your mom,” he said. Jensen kept pulling on you but you shook him off.
“You’re a cop?” you asked as he nodded.
“You’re Y/N, aren’t you,” he said.
“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jensen.
“Y/N, sweetie, we need to call up the Dallas police department right now. There are things you need to know.”
“Things like what?”
Four Hours Later
“Hey kid,” said Jensen as you sat at a conference table in a police station. You stared blankly at the shut file, Jensen setting a candy bar down in front of you. “Didn’t know if you were a chocolate kinda chick.”
“Thank you Jensen,” you said quietly. You didn’t touch it and he bumped your arm.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No,” you said. “Thank you for coming with me to the station and staying. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah well no offense but I was serious about what I said. I wasn’t leaving you alone with some random dude,” he said. “Eat something.”
“I thought I had shitty parents before,” you laughed. “Turns out they fucking killed my mom and took her toddler and pretended I was theirs. What the fuck.”
“I’m not going to pretend to know how you remotely feel right now,” he said. “It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.”
“I know,” you said as a detective came in. 
“Y/N, this is the file we worked up on your mom,” he said. He opened a page and you saw Jensen stand out of the corner of your eye.
“That’s her mother?” he said. 
“Abigail Leandry? Yes,” said the detective. Jensen shook his head. “Mr. Ackles, what-”
“Kayla. Kayla,” he said.
“Mr. Ackles, why do you know the deceased’s middle name?” asked the detective. Jensen was practically white now and you stood up, holding onto him.
“Did you know my mom?” you asked. “Jensen, did you know her?”
“Who’s her father?” asked Jensen.
“There’s no father on record. Mr. Ackles are you-” said the detective as Jensen ran his hand over his face. “What is your relation to the victim, Mr. Ackles?”
“I had a one night stand when I was twenty years old,” he said as he looked at you. “She said her name was Kayla.”
“What?” you said. The detective looked at the both of you and stood up. “Where are you going?”
“I think we need to do a paternity test as soon as possible.”
Two Hours Later
“I…” started Jensen for the fifth time as you sat in his passenger seat. You stared at the dashboard, Jensen opening his mouth again. “Y/N...if I knew…”
“I know,” you said. “Can you drive me back to my car now. I want to go home. It’s been a long day.”
“It’s after midnight. Why don’t I drop you off and we can swing by to get your car in the morning,” he said.
“Whatever.” You rested your head on the glass and shut your eyes. He started the truck but it didn’t move.
“We used protection. I wasn’t…” he said.
“It’s not a guarantee. Dude, you’re my dad. Whatever. Just take me home. Please,” you said.
“Where do you live,” he asked quietly. You gave him the address and twenty minutes later you were outside of your apartment, Jensen looking around. You put a hand on the door and he sighed. “Wait.”
“Jensen, I’m tired.”
“I know. I’m about to have a very fun time telling my wife about this. I just...this is not a safe neighborhood for a young woman to live alone in,” he said. “There’s stabbings and shootings around here all the time.”
“I grew up with methhead parents. That was kind of par for the course,” you said. 
“I’m a stranger. I understand. Would you consider…” he said and you opened the door.
“I’m fine, Jensen. Go home. You have a long night still,” you said.
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said. You hummed and he leaned over. “Wait. Can I have your number?”
You gave him your phone and he put yours in his before putting his in yours and handing it back.
“Hey,” he said as you started to head inside. You groaned and turned around. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Goodnight, Jensen,” you said. You went inside your unit before he could say anything else and locked the door shut. You wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, nothing in there but a six pack of beer from the brewery. You shook your head and looked in the cabinet, half a bottle of vodka still there. You took it out and poured yourself a glass, wincing as you drank it down.
Maybe you’d be lucky enough to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a nightmare.
“Y/N,” said Jensen as you started work the next morning. You saw Danneel talking with her brother across the room, both of them glancing at you. “Can we talk?”
You nodded and he wandered out back to the employee area, taking a seat at a picnic table. You sat across from him, Jensen bouncing his leg like crazy.
“I thought I should at least tell you...I met Kayla at a club when I was twenty. I was home visiting family and went out with some friends. She was from Houston. We talked, flirted a bit, she was...forward with what she was interested in and being young and stupid like I was, I felt as though I should have at least one one-night stand in my life. I wasn’t...comfortable with it at first but it happened. We used protection and I left and I never really thought of her ever again. Until now obviously.”
“What’s your point, Jensen?” you asked. He bit his bottom lip and stilled his leg.
“We both learned some things last night. We know your mom got involved with drugs. We know that’s why she was killed. The people that raised you probably did it. She has no family left. The people that took you weren’t good and they’re dead and you have no family out there, anywhere. I know you were in a group home when you were sixteen after they died. I know you bounced around a bit and wound up in foster care until you aged out last year. I know your home isn’t safe and your car is older than you.”
“Jensen.”
“I’d like the chance to give you a real dad. I’d like to be there for you the way I should have always been. De and I both do. We can give you everything you need or want,” he said. 
“I understand,” you said. He smiled and you rolled your eyes. “This would look horrible for you if it got out that you have some stray, wouldn’t it. Your grand idea is to pay me off?”
“What?” he asked and you stood up. “Y/N, that’s not-”
“I did just fine my whole life without a real dad. I don’t need one now,” you said. You headed back towards the entrance and he caught up to you grabbing your shoulder.
“Stop. Wait a second. I-” he said as you spun around.
“Leave me alone. I shouldn’t even exist. I will do just fine without you like I always have.” You started walking again and headed to your car, sliding behind the wheel before you knew it. You drove home and sat in your apartment, expecting a call that you’d been fired.
Five minutes after being home you heard a car pull up out front. The doorbell rang and you ignored it. A text came in on your phone which you also promptly ignored.
“Y/N. It’s Jensen,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Kid, I...we don’t gotta be the fucking Brady Bunch. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me try. I’ll do all the work, I swear. I just...I just gotta know you’re okay. I know you’re not. This is so fucked up. You should have had a better life. You should have had me. I would have stopped you from living through all the shit you have. I’m sorry this happened to you.”
You stared at the door and pursed your lips.
“I want to know my daughter. I want to be part of her life. I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said. “Let me give you what you deserve.”
You walked over and slowly opened the door, Jensen wearing a worried smile.
“I’m not calling you dad.”
“You don’t have to,” he chuckled. “Can I come in?”
You swung the door open wider and he stepped past you, pausing in the hall as you closed up behind him.
“You live here?” he asked.
“No, I stay here for shits and giggles. Yes I live here,” you said. He stepped past the kitchen and into your family room where you took a seat on the old couch, Jensen spinning around. “Yeah, it’s shitty. I get it.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s in violation of health codes,” he said. He took a seat on the couch and made a face. “Can I push my luck and convince you to move out of here?”
“I don’t need charity, Jensen. You’ve given me enough already,” you said. 
“Parents put a roof over their kids' heads. I’m a few years late so sue me but we gotta get you somewhere better than this,” he said.
“I drink. I swear. I walk around in my underwear and I have adult friends sleepover so there’s no way in hell I’m moving in with you.”
“I have a guest house,” he said. “It’s private. You’re not a child and I’ll do my best to not treat you like one. But it’s safe and nice and you can have your own space...just forty feet from where I live is all.”
You crossed your arms and he put on a pair of sad eyes.
“You’re milking it a bit don’t you think,” you said.
“I’m not acting,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I’ll give you money for food and gas and pay for the rest if you don’t want to talk to me. Just give me this. Let me get you out of this shithole.”
“I don’t need saving.”
“I didn’t say I was going to save you. I want to protect you. There’s a difference.”
He set a hand on his leg, turning it palm up. You watched it and after a moment set your hand in his.
“Don’t fuck me over,” you said.
“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Why don’t we run to the store to get some boxes and we can pack up your stuff?”
An hour later you were following Jensen in your car down the driveway of a very nice house. You parked behind him and got out, staring at it and the yard and turning your head to see the multiple cars in his garage.
“Y/N,” said Jensen. He was standing closer, giving you a smile. “We can move the boxes in a minute. Why don’t I show you the guest house first?”
“Okay,” you said. You followed him around a path that went behind the garage, a two story building back there.
“It’s only one bedroom. But it’s got it’s own office on the first floor,” he said. “It’s not that big. You can always stay in the house with the rest of us if you change your mind but I understand wanting your privacy.”
He unlocked the door and you stepped inside, Jensen mentioning something about dust but you were still floored by how nice it was. The kitchen was beautiful and open to the family room. The large wood dining table sat in a cute breakfast nook. There was a fireplace and big windows with a staircase in the back heading up to a second floor.
“...I know it’s a bit plain,” he said and you turned your head, Jensen smiling back at him. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you.”
“This is too nice. Jensen this is way too nice. I gotta pay you rent for-” you said but he shook his head. “Jensen.”
“I have some contingencies for you staying here. You follow those and I’ll pay for this place and your food and gas. Okay?” he asked.
“What are they?” you asked.
“No big parties. You want to have something small that’s fine but no big blowouts,” he said.
“Do I look like I have a lot of friends?” you asked. 
“I want you to go to school. You can keep your job at the brewery but you’re gonna go to school. I will pay for it but I want you to have an education.”
You pursed your lips but nodded.
“I’m getting you a new car, one much safer. Lastly, if you see the kids, please try not to swear in front of them. They’re young and we do our best to not do that around them,” he said.
“Fine,” you said. “Don’t expect me to start having big family dinners or that kind of thing.”
“I understand. I’ll move the boxes and um, maybe you can make up a list of things you need for me to get at the store.”
“I have everything I need in the boxes,” you said.
“You have one pan and like three plates,” he said.
“Yeah?” you asked. 
“Y/N, that’s not normal.”
“You realize this isn’t normal right?” you said as you looked around. 
“If you change your mind...I’m gonna get your things, let you unpack,” he said. He left and ten minutes later you had four boxes by the door, Jensen excusing himself away. You unpacked your kitchen items, knowing he might have had a point. But he was buying absolutely everything for you and it was a little ridiculous. 
You took your bag of clothes upstairs, swallowing when you saw the bedroom and bathroom up there. It was like it was out of a magazine. There was even a small balcony off the room. You stepped out and looked around at a yard and saw a pool off in the distance. 
There was no way in Hell you belonged in a place like that.
That Evening
You were cooking dinner for yourself with the over abundance of groceries Jensen had left at the door earlier when you heard a knock. You moved the pan off the heat and opened up, Jensen standing there with a smile.
“Can I help you?” you asked.
“We’re about to have dinner if you’d like to join us,” he said. 
“You said I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”
“I know. I just wanted to offer. It’s your first...are you cooking?” he asked as he saw into the kitchen.
“Yes. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” you said. 
“I literally just gave you some extra pantry staples for the night before I can run to the store in the morning. You’re making dinner out of that stuff?” he asked.
“Yes?” you said. “You gave me pasta and olive oil. I will survive for the night.”
“You’re making pasta in a pan?” he asked.
“Yes. You put water in the pan and put in some pasta. It’s like magic,” you said.
“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said. You shut the door on him and went back to the stove. You stared at the messy pan and turned the stove off. You sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.
He had never, never been anything but nice to you when you were a complete stranger. Of course he was going to go overboard since he found out you were his kid. You were being bitchy for no reason and he was still being nice.
There was a knock at the door but you saw him walk past the window. You got up and opened the door, a large pot sitting on the small bench by the door. He was halfway across the grass and you swallowed.
“Jensen?” you called out. He spun around and smiled.
“Keep it,” he said.
“What...what are you having? For dinner?”
“Pork roast with mashed sweet potatoes and roasted veggies. S’pretty good,” he said. “We got ice cream for dessert.”
You bit your bottom lip and he walked over to you, frowning as he stared down.
“I don’t blame you for not having much faith in people or being cautious of me. I really don’t. But I am your dad and you are my daughter. To you that means nothing. I understand. But you’re one of the most important things in my life now. It can be one sided if you want that. It can be that simple if you want that. Like I said, you can ignore me the rest of my life if you want and I would never blame you. But I can give you more than a place to stay and money. There’s shit a lot more important than those things. You can have it if you want it. Just come on inside if you decide you do.”
You crossed your arms and looked down. He didn’t leave yet and you took a few deep breaths.
“I’ve never really trusted anyone before,” you said. “I’m not...I do want a family, Jensen. I do. But my life isn’t like this. I dropped out of high school and got a GED. I have hookups most nights. I’m probably going to get pregnant, marry the guy, have another kid, get divorced, live in a small old apartment while working two jobs and that’s my life. That’s gonna be life, Jensen. I’ve known that’s gonna be my life since I was a kid. I don’t have goals or dreams. I’m just here because you feel guilty and I can take advantage of that right now. I’m gonna push back and push back until you throw me out or I leave because I’m not gonna trust you. I’m never going to trust you, Jensen. You don’t have to feel bad about this situation. You don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’m not supposed to even be here. I think it’s better if you just gave me some money and I’ll leave and you never have to think about me ever again.”
“I’m gonna think about you everyday for the rest of my life,” he said. “You deserve a better life than what you described. You deserve a good job and to fall in love and have children because you want to. I want you, Y/N not out of guilt. I only feel guilty I wasn’t there for you. I want you because you’re my daughter and I love you. It’s all there is to it.”
You sighed and heard thunder in the distance. 
“You can stay in the house. You can live with us. We’d love it if you did,” he said. You looked back at the guest house. For the first time you noticed the bags of concrete stacked up on the side. 
“You were gonna tear it down, weren’t you,” you said.
“We didn’t need it. It was gonna be an extra garage space. But that’s-”
“Will I have my own room?” you asked quietly. “In the house.”
“Yes. Your own room, bathroom, big closet. Your own part of the house.”
“...How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you asked.
“You don’t. Have dinner with us. Talk to your siblings. Maybe they can give you some insight,” he said. You walked past him as a light rain came down, Jensen showing you in the back door and up a set of stairs. There were a pair of toddlers at a table, an older girl in the kitchen with Danneel as they dished up some plates. “Y/N’s going to join us.”
“That’s great,” said Danneel as she handed the girl a plate. “JJ, would you give that to Y/N and get her some silverware?”
“Sure,” she said. She walked over to you and you took the plate. “Are you mom and dad’s friend?”
“She’s your sister,” said Jensen as he helped in the kitchen. He put down a glass at an empty chair and you took a seat, JJ returning quickly with a fork and knife.
“You’re kinda old,” she said as she set them down.
“You’re kinda short,” you said.
“Am not,” she said as she went to her seat.
“Yeah you are,” said the littlest girl. Jensen had brought her in to get donuts a few times and you saw her recognize you. “Hi!”
“Hi Arrow,” you said with a smile.
“JJ, Arrow, Zepp,” said Jensen as he leaned over the back of her chair and poured a glass of water for you from the carafe. “This is Y/N and she’s gonna be around quite a bit more we hope.”
“Okay. Who’s your favorite princess?” asked Arrow. 
“Hm. That’s a tough one. I don’t know if she qualifies as a princess but I always liked Rapunzel,” you said as Jensen and Danneel carried over their plates. “Who’s your favorite?”
An hour later you were still discussing Disney characters with the kids, Jensen scooping up the twins under each arm.
“Daddy,” groaned Zeppelin as he was spun upside down. “We were playing.”
“You two and your sister need baths, stinkers, and then a bedtime story. How’s that sound?” he asked.
“Can Y/N read it?” he asked as he looked at you. 
“Sure,” you said.
“Yay!” he said.
“We’ll be about half an hour with these guys. If you want to come up I can show you your space,” said Jensen. You nodded and followed them all upstairs. Danneel went off with JJ down a hall, Jensen nodding towards one end. “That’s me and De over there. Kids are down that hall and the guest suite and loft is to the right.”
“Thanks,” you said. You wandered down the hall and found a large open space with a couch and TV, more of an adult hang out space from the looks of it. There was a door nearby and you opened it, walking into a large bedroom with a canopy bed. “Holy shit.”
It was nicer than the guest house and you walked around, stepping into a beautiful on suite bathroom with double vanities, a separate shower and a giant ass tub. The walk in closet was huge and you were absolutely in love with the wide window bench and bookcases.
“Hey,” said Jensen behind you. You spun around and saw him sporting a partially wet shirt. “You like it?”
“It’s warm,” you said. 
“Well feel free to move some clothes and stuff in for the night. There’s a few raincoats in the front hall closet downstairs. I gotta try and get these three washed before the storm hits,” he said.
“It’s no problem,” you said. He smiled and started to leave when you took a step forward. “Jensen?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about before, how I acted and what I said. No one’s ever taken care of me and not wanted something in return,” you said. 
“Apology accepted. All I will ever want is you to be happy. We’ll get there eventually,” he said. He left and after exploring the room for a few more minutes, you took a raincoat from the front closet and went outside, packing up most of your things and bringing them up to your new room. You’d just set a box down when a toddler in a pair up pull ups ran into your room.
“Y/N, can I have a story now?” asked Zeppelin. 
“Zepp...Zeppy…” you heard Jensen call from somewhere else. 
“You wanna show me your room and then I can tell you a story?” you asked. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out, Jensen sighing as he found you in the hall. “I got him.”
“Well someone needs his pajamas on,” said Jensen. Zeppelin grumbled but he did tug on his shirt at least once you were in his room. Jensen tugged his pants on and Zeppelin rushed over to his bookcase, picking out one and handing it to you. He crawled up in bed and you sat on the stool nearby, reading and showing him the pages for about ten minutes before you watched him close his eyes and huff quietly.
“Night, little guy,” you said. You put the book on his nightstand and set the stool back. Jensen smiled and flicked the light off by the door, a nightlight keeping the space dimly lit. He shut the door and you were quiet as you saw Danneel duck out of a room. He nodded and you followed the two of them to the loft area, taking a seat on the end of the couch as he settled into a chair, Danneel sitting close by.
“I think Zepp’s a fan,” she said with a smile. “I think they all are.”
“Kids don’t tend to be the problem in these situations,” you said. You looked at her and she nodded. “Are you...okay-”
“I would much rather have you stay in this house than out there by yourself. You’ve been on your own enough,” she said. 
“What was your reaction?” you asked as you quickly glanced to Jensen.
“A bit of shock. But I saw the test results and he has…” she said, Jensen nodding. “He mentioned once when you first started working at the brewery about feeling protective of you. We both assumed it was because you were young and on your own and trying to get by. I’ve never been quite that bad but when he first started out after he left home, things were tight for him. We understand struggling a bit. Not to the same extent as you obviously but we get it. Now with what you know, I think there was some paternal instinct coming out he didn’t quite see.”
“In my experience, parents aren’t good things. My life got better after them,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if he is.”
“All of us will,” said Jensen. “It’ll take time which will be the hard part probably but if you allow us, we can be parents to you too. We won’t make rules for you. You’re an adult and we’ll treat you like one. But we’ll treat you like our child too. De and I will probably screw that up sometimes so all I ask is that you let us slip up from time to time and hopefully this can turn out the way we hope it does.”
“Do I have to go to college?” you asked. Jensen glanced to Danneel and back at you. “I don’t have the best grades and I literally dropped out my senior year. Does a community college even take a GED?”
“I was thinking more like UT,” he said. You laughed and he raised an eyebrow.
“You’re serious? I didn’t even take SATs or ACTs or…” you trailed off as you turned to Danneel who shrugged. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
“No, I can’t,” you scoffed. You gripped the corner of the armchair and he sighed. “I can’t-”
“Shh,” he said as he got up. He squatted down in front of you and smiled. “Don’t be scared. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. That room over there? That is your bedroom now and no one will ever kick you out of it. I don’t want you leaving until you’re ready and I think we all know you’re a long way away from that. I believe you can go to school and do anything you want to. I’ll believe for the both of us right now, okay?”
“I’m too stupid. I don’t fit in aside from with sleazy guys,” you said.
“I disagree with that,” he said. “Trust me?”
You sighed but gave him a nod. 
“I know it’s been a long day and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night but there is a bowl of ice cream downstairs with your name on it if you’re interested,” he said. 
“Maybe. I’d like to wash up,” you said. “I know today was kind of busy but I still have work in the morning right?”
“Don’t worry about work right now. We go it covered,” said Danneel. “I can show you where stuff is in your bathroom.”
You swallowed but nodded, following her back into your room and the bathroom. A part of you was expecting her to say something about wanting you gone. After all you technically weren’t hers. You were barely Jensen’s. 
“There’s a bunch of stuff like soap and shampoo and that kind of stuff in here,” she said, opening up a tall cabinet door. “Towels are up top. There’s not a hair dryer in here but I can just drop mine off outside on your bed if you want?”
“Air dry is fine,” you said quietly.
“Honestly I do the same most of the time,” she said. “There are some pads and tampons under the sink but I gotta run to a few stores in the morning anyways so maybe you can come with and we can get whatever brand you like.”
“I don’t…” you said as she cocked her head. “I get all my supplies from a free clinic. I can’t...I couldn’t afford that brand name stuff before.”
“Oh,” she said. She made a strange face and shook her head. “Well we can try them out until we find one you like.”
“Okay,” you said. 
“If you need anything just let me know,” she said. She walked past you but you heard her pause in the doorway. “Y/N a bit of advice.”
You turned around and waited for her to drop the nice act. 
“Yeah?”
“Stay away from sleazy guys. They just want sex. They don’t care about you.”
“I know that.”
“Then do me a favor and the next time you spend the night with a guy, do it cause you feel a connection with him. There’s a difference.”
“I get that too.”
“Then why sleep around?”
“Because I’ll take a fake connection over no connection.”
“You don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “Jensen and I spend a lot of time apart.”
“What is your point?” you sighed.
“Don’t fuck random guys cause you’re lonely. You might not realize this yet but you’re never gonna be alone ever again. Get used to us cause you’re fucking ours and we want better for you than a random fuck. You got that?”
“You don’t talk to me the way Jensen does,” you said quietly.
“Because he’s in pain right now and he is so scared of setting you off. I on the other hand know what it’s like to be a young woman. I won’t tell you not to have your fun. But have it with somebody special. Good guys do exist. Good dads exist. He’s not gonna hurt you. You said you’d try out there so please try.”
“Do you wish I would go?”
“I wish someday you realize what a silly question that is to be asking,” she said. “I might barely be old enough to be your mother but you didn’t just get a dad with this. You have him and you have me and three half-siblings and a whole shitload of other people. So the next time you’re lonely, you come to one of us and maybe the next guy you sleep with you can do it cause he’s a good guy. Understand?”
“Yes,” you said. She nodded and started to leave when you cleared your throat. “Danneel?”
“Yeah?” she asked as she turned around.
“Where do you meet nice guys? I haven’t had much luck,” you said. 
“You’re young. Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said as some thunder shook the house. “Wash up at the sink. Jensen gets a wee paranoid about showers in thunderstorms.”
“I’m the same way,” you said.
“You two must be related or something,” she smirked.
“Seriously,” you said.
“Aw, you got his bitch face too,” she laughed. “Come down when you’re ready. We’ll save you some ice cream.”
“Thanks,” you said. She shut the bedroom door after herself and you took out a few things from the cabinet along with what you’d brought along. Fifteen minutes later your face was washed and you’d changed into pajamas, a pair of old sweatpants and a free shirt you’d gotten from the brewery. You threw your hair up in a bun and took a deep breath. 
You wandered out of the room and down the hall, getting mixed up for a moment before you found the stairs down. Danneel was sitting on the countertop with a bowl in her hand, Jensen busy decorating his own with crumbled up cookies.
“Hey,” he said. He slid the bowl across the counter and stuck a spoon in it. “Prepare to be amazed.”
“Mhm,” you said. You scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, tilting your head. “Is that...whiskey?”
“Just a smidge. That, vanilla ice cream and some cookies on top? So good,” he said as he started to make himself a bowl. “We were away once back in De’s neck of the woods and had it at dinner once. Obviously my version is superior…” he said as he got a whack from Danneel. “It’s a pretty good knock off.”
“Jensen always manages to pick out the best desserts. Meanwhile I always pick the weird ones,” she laughed.
“Oh next time we’re in New York we gotta take her to that hole in the wall place,” said Jensen. 
“New York City?” you asked.
“Mhm,” he hummed. You sat up on the counter across from Danneel and sucked on your spoon, Jensen taking a spot near you when he’d finished. “How’d you end up down here. You were in Dallas up until last year weren’t you.”
“Yeah. A couple friends were gonna move down here so I went with them. I thought a new place might be good for me. They turned out to not be great friends so I wound up in an assisted place,” you said.
“Well I’m glad you came,” he said. “You been a lot of places yet?”
“Not really,” you said.
“You ever been to Franklin’s?” asked Danneel. “The barbecue place?”
“I’ve never been out to eat,” you said.
“Ever?” she asked.
“Sometimes we’d sit in McDonald’s,” you said.
“Well we’re definitely going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Jensen. “We can get whatever you like.”
“That sounds good,” you said. You took a few more bites and watched the lights flicker. 
“Uh oh,” he said just as the power went out. You stilled as he slid off the counter in the dark. They both moved around as you sat still, a lamp turning on nearby. You jumped and Jensen chuckled. “Ah, there we go. That’s…”
You jumped off the counter when he ran a hand over your head.
“It’s-“
“I don’t like the dark,” you said. You set the bowl down and started to walk around, bumping into him and then Danneel. “I don’t…”
You stepped over to the lamp on the table, taking a seat and a few deep breaths.
“Jay.”
Jensen went off into another part of the house, returning with two more camping lamps. He turned them on and the room got brighter.
“There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” asked Jensen. Danneel brought over your ice cream and you took a deep breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just don’t like the dark,” you said. You squeezed your leg and relaxed, Jensen wandering off, returning with a flashlight. He sat it next to you as you picked up your spoon and began eating again. There was a flutter of feet upstairs for a moment and you heard a whimper come from the top of the steps. Danneel got up and went over to the bottom, looking up with a frown.
“How about you sleep in your sister’s room tonight?” she asked as she went up. You finished with your bowl, Jensen leaning back in his chair.
“He’s scared of the dark too,” said Jensen. 
“I’m not scared. I said I don’t like it.”
“Alright. It’s not an interrogation,” he said. He ate from his bowl, keeping a side eye on you. “You know we have a security system and protection here.”
“You’re rich, of course you do,” you said. You stared down to an empty hall and he grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it down there. You rolled your eyes and sat back. Jensen set the extra cookies on the table, adding more to his ice cream as you stared down the dark hall again. 
“Y/N. There’s nobody here,” he said. 
“I know that,” you said. 
“It’s okay to be scared of the dark you know.” He popped a cookie in his mouth and you gave him a glare. Thunder cracked and you jumped in your seat. He moved over to the chair next you and you shut your eyes. “Can I give you a hug?”
“What?”
“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” he asked.
“No,” you said. 
“Okay.” You got up and flinched when it thundered again. You started to wander around the kitchen, Jensen watching you like a hawk. You found a seat at the counter and stared down the hall, pouting when you heard him get up. “Don’t kick my ass for this.”
“Kick your ass for what?” you said just as he stopped by your seat and wrapped his arms around you. You took a deep breath and he turned you so you weren’t facing the hall. You looked up at him and he smiled.
“Come on,” he said. He pulled you out of your seat and walked over to the couch with an arm around you. You sat down next to him, Jensen pulling a blanket draped over the back onto you.
“Don’t…” you said when he hugged you again. He leaned back and you took a deep breath. He nodded and moved his arms away.
“I think I understand why you don’t like the dark,” he said. 
“I just...I don’t know you either.”
“I know but I’m your dad.”
“That doesn’t mean jackshit to me.”
“In my world it does. If you want a hug and me to sit with you while we wait for the power to come back on, that’s up to you.” 
“Fine,” you mumbled. You turned to him and groaned. “I said fine, you can hug me.”
“I see you’re just as stubborn as I am sometimes,” he said. He moved closer and pulled you into his side. After a few minutes you relaxed, watching the lightning outside the windows. “Feelin’ better?”
“There was a drug dealer my parents owed money to once. He took me when it was storming one night as collateral. They didn’t pay him back on time but he felt sorry for me or something so he dropped me off at a fire station. I said I ran away.”
“How old were you?”
“Five, six. Somewhere around there,” you said. 
“He took you from your house?” asked Jensen.
“I mean, we never lock a door. It was a roof and four walls. I’d barely call it liveable,” you said.
“Did you tell the police?”
“Jensen,” you said, tilting your head up at him. “My parents were big druggies. We didn’t call the cops. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in our environment.”
“Have you ever…” he asked. 
“No. I mean...I’ve had a hit or two off a joint before but no, no drugs. I didn’t like the weed that much either to be honest,” you said.
“You said you drink earlier today.”
“Like a beer a night, not even.”
“Just getting to know you...and see that there must have been someone that taught you not to be that way.”
“I had a grandma. She was nice. She was normal. She tried to get custody of me a few times but my parents threatened to stop letting her see me. I guess they weren’t really my parents, were they.”
“No, not really,” he said. He ran his hand over your head and you saw Danneel come back down. She took a seat in the corner with the package of cookies and set a lamp down on the coffee table. “How’s the boy?”
“Tuckered out in lil sis’ bed,” she said. “The battery on his nightlight was dead so he woke up in the dark.”
“Well the dark can be scary. I guarantee at least two of them wind up in bed with us by the time the night’s through.”
You were quiet as they talked about plans for tomorrow, who was going to do what chores, talking amongst themselves about where to take you for dinner. Jensen nudged you and you glanced up, a smile on his face.
“You want to go shopping with De tomorrow?” he asked.
“Sure,” you said. You listened to the rain come down harder and breathed deeply. You tensed up when Jensen shifted but he put his hand back on your head and shushed you. “I’ve kinda always wanted to try brisket.”
“I think we’re getting barbecue for dinner then,” he said. The lights turned back on and you let out a sigh, Jensen rubbing your back as you sat up. “Go ahead and keep one of those lamps and the flashlight in your room in case it happens again.”
“Thanks,” you said as you stood. “I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow then.
“See you in the morning, Y/N.”
Six Months Later
“Jensen,” you said as you leaned back against the outdoor grill. 
“Y/N…” he said as you scooted over more towards the countertop. “Yes honey?”
“Who’s that guy, the young one,” you said as you nodded out to the yard where a few tables were set up, people standing around.
“Baby face over there is Alex. He worked on the last couple seasons of the show with me. I’ve been meaning to have him and the rest of the wacky nutjobs over for awhile now. You’re a big girl, you can say hi to my friends if you want,” he said as he flipped a burger.
“Mhm,” you hummed, looking over your shoulder. You saw him talking to Jared with a beer in his hand. His head turned and he saw you, flashing you a quick smile. You returned it and heard a grunt.
“He’s six years older than you,” said Jensen as he sipped from his can.
“I literally dated a like forty year old last year.”
“Gah, why, why do you tell me things like that, I…” he trailed off when he saw you giggling to yourself. “Okay you little shit, how about this?”
“How about-”
“Hey Alex! Y/N wants to talk to you!” shouted Jensen out to the yard so just about every person there turned in your direction.
“I’m eating your brownie now,” you said. You grabbed the chocolate square off the plate nearby and popped it into your mouth as he put his hands on his hips.
“You’re making me more later, missy,” he said. He ruffled your hair and messed it up just as you caught Alex walk over.
“I am so sorry for him,” you said as you tried to fix the strands.
“You have to live with him. I feel sorry for you,” he laughed. “Alex.”
“Y/N,” you said. You took your beer and walked over towards the pool, Alex smirking to himself. “What? How bad did he mess up my hair?”
“Oh you’re perfect. It’s just nice to have someone to share the pain with,” he said. “He was really excited to find out about you you know. Like obnoxiously excited.”
“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug. You turned and looked back at the grill where he was working, Danneel coming out with Arrow on her hip. “They’ve grown on me. You must be an actor then if you’re at the first annual SPN whatever he and Jared are calling this.”
“They told me free beer and I was sold,” he said. “But yeah, I act. Kinda model every once in a while but that sounds really douchey so I try not to talk about it much.”
“Legit both Jay and De did it so my shock of all things Hollywood has kind of wavered by this point,” you said. “What’s California like? Is it as hot as here?”
“Not as bad. I’m from Canada actually,” he said. “The not too cold part which is nice.”
“I would take a cold day every once in a while,” you said. “How long are you here for?”
“About a week. I was gonna roadtrip down to a place called Galveston one day. Apparently it’s a beach town on the gulf. I thought that’d be fun,” he said.
“We went last month. It was so cool. I’d never been to a beach before or seen the ocean. There’s this place with amazing chili cheese fries. You gotta try them at night when it gets a bit cooler out,” you said. “My dad knows the name. I’ll have to…”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’ve never called Jensen dad before is all,” you said. You bit your bottom lip and Alex smiled.
“Between you and me, he’s really grateful you guys found each other. He loves you a lot. I know it’s gotta be a thousand kinds of weird but he is really, really proud of you. He brags about you all the time in the group chat.”
“Of course he does. He’s a dork.”
“Oh I one hundred percent agree with that,” he chuckled. He took a sip of his beer and tilted his head. “I know this is like super spur of the moment but would you want to like, go to the beach with me? Some of the guys were gonna come that were sticking around here but if you’re free…”
“I don’t know,” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Like I would totally hang out with you. It’s just like the adult trip, you know? It’s for you guys. Besides I was supposed to watch my siblings that day,” you said.
“Well of course you can come,” said Jensen as he popped up behind you. You flinched and he had two plates with burgers on them, handing you each one. “She loved the beach. Turned into a little kid. She made a sandcastle that-”
“Jensen,” you groaned, your face hot as he cleared his throat. 
“We’ll get a sitter. You can ride with Alex,” he said. He patted your back and walked off as you sighed.
“Oh my God,” you said. Alex just laughed as he took a bite of his burger. You knew you were blushing and prayed that he didn’t notice.
“So how’s school?” he asked.
“You see that one up there? That’s Leo,” said Alex, hours and hours later. You were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, everyone else hanging out on the other side of the house around the bonfire.
“If I ever take Astrology as an elective I’ll be sure to call you to help me study,” you said. You leaned back on your palms, Alex laughing.
“You’re the one smarter than me,” he said. 
“When I apply myself it turns out I actually am,” you said. “Mostly. A business degree isn’t very fascinating though.”
“No but it’s security which I think is really good thing for you.”
“Why?”
“Sounds like you grew up rough was all. It’s not a bad thing to have something solid to fall back on, something safe,” he said. 
“This is very true. There is a guy that runs one of the food trucks that comes to the brewery, he keeps trying to convince me to open up a restaurant with him once I get my degree.”
“Do you want to?”
“No but he’s sweet so I try to let him down gently.”
“He your boyfriend?”
“No. Don’t have one,” you said.
“Cool.”
“Was that your subtle way of seeing if I was single?” you asked.
“Seems to have worked,” he smirked. You moved closer and he did the same until you paused. “Sorry. I read this wrong.”
“No, you didn’t. I just...you’re the kind of guy that takes someone out on dates and waits and is slow and nice and...you’re a good guy, right? I can’t deal with a-”
He pecked a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. He smiled and kicked his feet in the water.
“You’re cute when you blush,” he said. You bumped his arm and he bumped yours back. “You are.”
“Loser,” you said.
“Gonna push you in the ocean for that,” he smirked. He gave your hand a squeeze and pulled his feet out of the water. “Let’s hang out by the fire. It’s getting cold over here anyways.”
“Okay,” you said gently. He pulled you to your feet and you giggled. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
“It’s alright. I like that sound,” he said. He let go of your hand as you got closer to the fire, Alex stopping with you at the table with some leftover desserts still out. “I uh, I’m not perfect...or have a degree...or am tall.”
“Don’t really give a shit about that stuff,” you said. 
“Good,” he said. You swiped some cookies for yourselves and found an empty pair of chairs together, the group getting quiet when you sat but Jensen shockingly not using the opportunity to tease you. 
“That it?” you asked as you came back inside from taking out a bag of trash a few hours later.
“Yup. Thanks for helping us clean up,” said Jensen. You stretched and headed upstairs, hearing a tut from him along the way. “He’s a good friend. Just go slow, okay?”
“I know,” you said. “Goodnight. Dad.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said with a smile.
___________
594 notes · View notes
queenlua · 2 years
Text
i’m totally fascinated by this illogical, moralizing, presumably-targeted-at-boomer-parents (?) scene in the cozy mystery novel (context: narrator works at a brewery; she’s talking to her son):
“We were hoping you could design a menu.”
“Sure.  That would be fun.”  [Alex] wiggled his feet free and sat up.  “And since you’re family, I’ll cut you a deal.  How about a hundred bucks?”
I raised one brow.
“What?  That’s a steal.  Do you know how much design firms charge?  Plus I’m saving up for the new FIFA game for my Xbox.”
“I thought you were kidding.  You’re serious?”  I dropped his legs and stood up.
“What’s the big deal?  Don’t freak out, Mom.”
I knew it wasn’t entirely Alex’s fault, but his sense of entitlement reminded me too much of [his father].  I had worked for every penny I had ever earned, and as difficult as my early years were, they’d taught me resilience.  I wanted that for Alex, too.
“How long is this going to take you?”
He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  A few hours.”
“Right.  And how much is minimum wage?”
“I don’t know, Mom.  Seriously, you are freaking.”  He fiddled with his controller.
“No, I’m trying to make a point.  You’re fifteen years old, and you think for a couple hours of work you deserve one hundred dollars?”
He threw his hands in the air.  “Fine.  I get it.  How about twenty-five bucks?”  He winked.
“That sounds more like it.”  I folded my arms across my chest.
wtf Alex!!!  don’t back down!!!  a hundred bucks is cheap for graphic design work!!!  know your fucking worth!!!!
40 notes · View notes
skullshoal · 2 years
Text
Work driving me crazy so insane I am working all the time but I'm not making money bc it's mine wage and I come in and freak out at my manager about this and she tells our boss and now my boss thinks I want more hours instead of being paid more no I fucking DONT I want a different job bc I was hired to do a different job entirely at this store and then they say they can't train me until after seasonal and then they say there is no hours to train me six months I've been working here and they don't even try to and now all this year I've been almost exclusively working as a cashier and I tell my manager I don't want cashier shifts I didn't get hired to be a cashier I didn't apply to be a cashier and she says we are giving you cashier shifts so you have hours honestly I would rather you didn't give me hours then and then I would just quit and be guilt free instead of our boss saying I have the most hours of anyone why do I have so many FUCKING hours and I am not even MAKING 600 DOLLARS A MONTH and bc I'm a cashier and I'm not selling their stupid rewards program good enough every shift I have to get lectured to and sign a document saying I have to do better and now they're saying I have to spout a quirky catchphrase to customers when I greet them like this isn't a minimum wage job and I'm constantly cashiering and after I worked at target I specifically don't apply to cashier jobs bc it makes me wanna KMS DID I MENTION ITS LEGAL TO NOT GIVE YOU BREAKS IN FLORIDA. ITS FOUR HOURS WITH NO BREAK AND IF I WORK MORE I USUALLY JUST TAKE ONE FIFTEEN AS A LUNCH. So yeah I work 7 hours tomorrow and I'll probably be giving my two weeks soon and then I will tell you horrors beyond your comprehension.
Oh also it's mental health month I fucking guess and this fun sign up sheet for your scheduled mental health break down in our break room today is literally so so insane here please publicly tell your coworkers you are insane and we will give you an extra break. No they don't specify if the break will be paid or not or how long it is at all and yes it is one break in the entire month of may like yes you understand people hate this job here is potentially thirty minutes of on the clock time 🤗
Tumblr media
Btw half an hour of my time is worth five bucks to these people. Here's a fiver to be mentally healthy and keep working here. Sinister. Despicable. I hope all my coworkers quit and find better jobs and the store explodes.
16 notes · View notes
Text
I think we should start describing the price of things in “hours” and “minutes”
As in, how many hours you’d have to work minimum wage to afford the thing
It’s easiest in places with a fifteen dollar minimum wage because 1 dollar = 4 minutes, so a 30 dollar meal costs 2 hours. Not all minimum wages are so evenly divisible unfortunately but you can still get the point across. The American federal minimum wage is 7.25, so that 30 dollar meal would cost a little over 4 hours in places where that’s the minimum wage
Try it next time you’re around someone with a lot of disposable income and force them to consider what money actually represents
3 notes · View notes
athingofvikings · 4 years
Text
So I’m researching Edith of Wessex for my writing, and this bit from Wikipedia struck me cold.
As the king's wife, she was responsible for his regal presentation. She commissioned works for his personal ornament, and had at least one goldsmith among her tenants. When he died, the Domesday Book shows that she was the richest woman in England, and the fourth wealthiest individual, after the king, Stigand, Archbishop of Canterbury, and her brother Harold. She held land valued at between £1,570 and £2,000 per annum.[13]
The bold part is the relevant bit.
In short, in Edith’s era, 1 pound silver was the average yearly wage of a day laborer (a day laborer made 1 silver penny, on the average, per day.  280 pennies to a pound.  Subtract Sundays and holy days and you see how it works out).
So, a thousand years ago, the richest woman in England, had a yearly personal income that was roughly fifteen hundred to two thousand times that of a day laborer.
Let me run the numbers for you.
According to the UK Government, the National Living Wage is £8.72/hour (it varies by age, but that’s the high-end).  This comes out to roughly £18,000 per year.
The conversion rate between US Dollars and UK Pounds is £1=$1.30.  So UK minimum wage is roughly equal to $24,000--a bit more than US, but in the same general ballpark.  I’ll average it to 20,000, both for ease of math and because, on the scale we’re talking about, the difference is trivial.
2000 times 20,000 is 40 million.
So, a thousand years ago, the FREAKING QUEEN OF ENGLAND, the single richest woman in all of the Kingdom, was to a peasant what a high level entertainer or sports player is to us neo-peasants.
But I can’t even call us Neo-Peasants.
Because 2000 times 40 million is 80 billion...
And that’s just about Amazon’s first quarter profits this year during the pandemic.  Not even the whole year.  just the first three months.  And while there’s some wiggle room in the math due to my above rounding due to the difference in currencies... it’s not THAT much wiggle room (and is easily compensated for by just taking the lower estimate of her land’s value).
The Queen Of England’s earnings compared to that of a peasant from a thousand years ago is comparable to that of a mega-corp’s earnings to hers.
We are literally worth less to a corporation than a peasant was to a queen.
431 notes · View notes
angelsaxis · 3 years
Text
watching all these union workers go on strike. seeing how my coworkers and I are so unsatisfied with our jobs, and how I quit today because of pay fuckery that I wasn't going to sit through, it's making me realize that student employees....dont have any protection at all. Our non-student coworkers are all part of a union. us students are just left to fend for ourselves. our contracts and what our managers tell us are at odds. i quit because i was brave enough and had high enough standards to do so. my coworkers also want to quit but they're scared becuase they don't know their rights because they're not outlined anywhere clear.
there's decisions being made about our pay without our input, and the school despite spending millions on sporting over the past four years, still can't raise our pay.
we make (made lol) $12/hr. because we worked in a dining hall, the university took four dollars of our shift pay so we could eat. so basically we had to pay to eat in the place we'd be cleaning. and this was for every shift. so if you work 4 shifts a week (like management kept trying to coerce us to do) you'd lose 32 dollars a check.
but then! 15 minute breaks. at first we didn't clock out so we were fine, but then management tells us we have to clock out. another 3 dollars lost (fifteen is a quarter of an hour, so a quarter of 12). Seven dollars a shift, gone.
but here's the thing: that 15 is strict, and we work during lunch and dinner rushes. if you go on your break during a rush you could easily be standing in line for food for most if not all of those 15 minutes (nevermind finding a seat lmao). so what happens if you clock back in late--say, after 20 minutes rather than 15? They take half an hour's pay off your check. Six dollars gone.
God forbid you're late to getting off break. Thirteen dollars lost and we make 12 bucks an hour. more than an hour's pay for...what, exactly? shitty dining hall food? rushing our meals so we can go back to standing around waiting for a table to clear so we can wipe it? This isn't even getting into taxes--although the funny thing is that I looked at my pay stub, and the university took 23 dollars while my state didn't even take three.
shifts are minimum three hours. imagine losing thirteen dollars--seven of which are default--off of less than 36 bucks. 23 dollars for 3 hours of work is barely more than half the minimum wage.
and there's nobody to argue in our favor.
14 notes · View notes