#doesn’t matter what the doc is about they love watching documentaries

[ninyard]

I really think somehow andrew, neil, and kevin end up watching a ton of documentaries together. first it was ones on exy, then history ones for kevin, then some true crime ones for andrew, etc until one day they’re watching david attenborough narrating a documentary on birds or something.

aaron comes over to their dorm to ask for something and he comes in and sees the three of them. kevin is in one bean bag and andrew / neil are sharing the other. kevin and neil barely glance up at him but andrew looks between the screen and aaron and deadpans, “that bird looks like aaron.”

neil and kevin crack up laughing. aaron can’t decide if he should be offended or not so he just storms out (then comes right back because fuck it, he really did need that jacket that andrew stole)

~ @rekikiri

the bird looks like this

and he’s right. it does kind of look like aaron.

[traveler-at-heart]

Finding Home - Part 2

Summary: This is a series imagining what it was life for Natasha after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Warnings: Mentions of violence, PTSD, nightmares. Read Part 1 here. It was still dark. A quick glance at the clock on your nightstand told you it was indeed 2:30 am.

With a groan, you stood up from bed, walking into the living room, the penthouse pitch black.

“Jesus, Natasha!” you jumped as the lights revealed her sitting on the couch. Staring at the door. The redhead didn’t even flinch when you shouted. “Hey, is everything ok? Did you hear something?”

Now you felt bad for snapping at her like that. Surely, she had a good reason to be up.

“I don’t understand why they’re not here”

“Who?” you kneeled next to her, so you were eye level. With a pang of guilt, you noticed the bags under her eyes.

How long had this been going on?

“The KGB and Dreykov’s people. It’s only a matter of time. And when they come, I don’t… they can’t hurt you. I wouldn’t forgive myself”

“Nat” you said, squeezing her hand until she finally looked at you. Your hair was a mess, and your eyes struggled to focus on her face, but still, you pushed the words out.

“We are protecting you. SHIELD has eyes and ears everywhere. They won’t come for you, they won’t hurt you. Clint won’t let it happen, Fury won’t let it happen. And I certainly won’t let it happen”

There was a beat of silence, and then Natasha shook her head no.

“I’m not worth the risk”

“Yes you are. Clint thought so when he didn’t shoot that arrow. And I think so too. You’re worth it, and that’s not up for debate”

With a resigned sigh, you sat on the loveseat next to the couch and stared at the door.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“Well, if we’re taking turns watching the door, I’m next”

“Don’t be ridiculous, go to sleep”

The commanding tone made you smile. Slowly, but surely, Natasha had become more open and more herself in the way she interacted with others.

She wasn’t afraid to show she knew better than all of you.

“You go to sleep, Romanoff”

The redhead rolled her eyes, annnoyed at how amused you looked and then turned on the tv, browsing through channels, until she settled on a documentary about chimpanzees.

Fifteen minutes later, she was sleeping, gently snoring.

—

Back at the headquarters, Natasha was showing Maria and Fury some of the technical details of the widow bites she used.

You took the opportunity to pay a visit to Doctor Taylor.

“Agent” she greeted. “You know the rules, you gotta make an appointment”

“It won’t take long, Doc. It’s about Natasha” you scratched the back of your neck, feeling like you were snitching on her. “She’s not sleeping well. Keeps thinking the KGB is showing up any minute now to take her back”

“I would be surprised if she was able to sleep at all. I can prescribe something…”

“Yeah, she’s not gonna take it. Don’t ask me how, I just know it” you shrugged your shoulders. “This is more of a visit to ask for sugggestions. Is there any activity that might distract her?”

“Well, has she even been outside the Penthouse?” the woman asked, glancing at her notes, obviously aware of the answer to the question.

“No, unless we count this lovely government building” you looked down, feeling ashamed. Idiot. Keeping Natasha locked up, of course she’d feel agitated.

Doctor Taylor said your name, your attention snapping back to her.

“Natasha doesn’t know who she is; she dind’t have a childhood or a life. You could… give her choices. Help her figure out what she likes”

“Like her favorite ice cream flavor?”

“Sure, that’s simple. Start there”

“Alright” you straightened your stance, thinking about the day ahead. “Thanks, Doc”

“For what is worth” she said as you turned to open the door. “Natasha’s making progress. Slow but steady. And that’s thanks to you as well”

You nodded, smiling before leaving her office.

—

“It’s this way” Natasha pointed at a street, and you kept driving. “You missed the next exit”

“So now you know how to drive in New York City?” you said, ignoring her comments.

“Yes. I can drive motorcycles, cars, all kinds of helicopters…”

“Cool, congrats. You’re still not driving this car”

“Ass” she mumbled and you chuckled.

The drive was silent and as you found a place to park, Natasha looked around trying to find your destination.

“Ta-da” you sang and she turned back to you.

“Holey cream?” she read the sign above the door, in a very unamused tone.

“Build-your-own donut ice cream sandwich. Doesn’t that sound fun? There are tons of choices. Come on” you looped her arm with yours and practically dragged her inside.

You ordered first, hoping it would give Natasha enough time to decide what she wanted. However, as you got your donut, she was still staring at the ice cream flavors and toppings.

“Have you decided yet?” as she shook her head no, you offered your own donut. “Come on, try it. It’s homemade chocolate peanut better”

Rolling her eyes, she finally agreed and took a bite, modestly covering her mouth as she chewed.

“Too sweet. I think I’ll have the Java Guatemala”

“Holy holey” you muttered, thinking about the amount of caffeine she’d eat. “Strong flavor for a strong woman, am I right?”

“Is the sugar making you hyper?”

“Maybe” you opened the door for her, walking side by side as you took bites of your donuts.

You kept walking, glancing at the restaurants and shops littered on both sides of the street. As you read the menu of an Indian place, Natasha looked at the window of a clothing store.

“Oh, that leather jacket is beautiful” you admired, following her eyes. “Wanna go inside and try it on?”

“No”

“Come on” you ignored, pushing her.

The store clerk greeted you, while Natasha stood awkardly next to the jacket.

“Try it on” she rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. It looked perfect on her, but then again, Natasha managed to look stunning even on training clothes. “It suits you. Do you like it?”

“It’s fine” she shrugged her shoulders, the same way she did when you cooked something that she didn’t really like. As if what she thought wasn’t important.

“Natasha” you said and the woman looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and smiled, encouraging her to say what she really wanted.

“Yes, I like it a lot. But I don’t have any mo…”

“Miss? We’re taking this jacket”

Busy with paying the woman, you missed the way Natasha pulled the jacket close to her body, smiling as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

—

“Article 212, subsection B” Natasha asked.

It was a lovely day, so you were enyoing the sun on Central Park. She insisted on studying for her test, which was honestly overdoing it. Natasha memorized Shields rules in a week.

She was siting, the manual on her lap, while you were laying, your head close to her knees.

“Uh… something, something, paperwork” you answered, getting lost in the warm sun and the blanket where you and Natasha rested. “Are we still catching that movie later today?”

“Yes. And don’t change the subject” she gave you a small tap on the forehead and you frowned.

“Natasha, you memorized it weeks ago. And I already passed my test so…”

“I like it when I can hear you say it” Natasha interrupted you, her voice getting smaller. “I know all the words, yes. But hearing you say it makes it make sense. And I can also learn more about pronunciation. I still have my stupid accent”

“Ok” you nodded, sitting up to face her. You shook the leaves that got stuck in your hair and answered the question.

Natasha nodded when she was satisfied, flipping through the pages to continue.

“And for the record, your accent is not stupid. It’s cute” you said.

You were too busy looking away to hide your blush, so you missed how Natasha’s cheeks were red as well.

—

After that day in the park, you saved a time after dinner to read to Natasha. It was a way for her to improve what you already thought was a perfect English.

“A Scandal in Bohemia. Your very first Sherlock Holmes. Aren’t you excited?”

“Why that one?” she looked up at you. As usual, you were sitting at the end of the couch while she laid her head close to your lap, but never touching your knees.

“Because, you’re just like Irene Adler”

“Who?”

“Well, let me read and you’ll find out”

With every story about mystery, Natasha always commented on how the detectives approcahed the case. But this time, she remained quiet as you read the tale of Holmes and the only woman who outsmarted him.

Once you finished, you looked down to find Natasha sleeping, her usual frown replaced by a soft expression. The image of her head resting under her clasped hands brought you back to the words on the Red Room report.

The girls slept handcuffed to their beds so they wouldn’t escape.

If Dreykov wasn’t already dead, you’d gladly kill him yourself.

On impulse, your hand reached out to touch her own, while the other moved a strand of red hair out of her forehead.

What happened next was completely unexpected.

Natasha woke up instantly, throwing you from the couch and you landed on your front, out of air from the force of her movements. The woman climbed to your back and placed your neck in a headlock.

“Fuck, fuck, Nat, it’s ok. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I’m sorry. It’s me. You’re safe” you said, trying to control your breathing and keeping your voice even.

You could feel Natasha’s heart beating wildly, her breath ragged against your ear.

It wasn’t her and she wasn’t trying to hurt you, that’s all you could think about as she kept you in place, with just enough pressure to make sure you didn’t move.

Little by little, she began to calm down and all of the sudden, let you go.

You coughed and moved forward, allowing yourself to breathe and feel a tiny bit of panic at what could have happened.

Not to you, but to Natasha.

“I’m…” she looked at her shaking hands, tears welling up. Natasha got up and walked to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Nat. It’s ok. Natasha” you knocked several times, to no avail.

She stayed in her room for the rest of the night.

—

The following days were hell.

You went back to training alone. Natasha barely ate, let alone look at you whenever you had to go to SHIELD.

How could you have been so reckless? Of course she’d react that way, living her life in a perpetual state of fight or flight.

The silence took a toll on you. And worse, one day it made you snap.

During the drive to SHIELD, you asked Natasha if she was up for watching a movie at the cinema.

There was no answer, which was to be expected.

The hurt came after, when you caught her chatting with Clint as if everything was ok. Feeling as if someone had punched you in the gut, you looked away.

Maybe everything would be better if you left Natasha alone.

You walked up to them and dropped the keys to the car on the table.

“Here. Take the car”

“But, I thought…”

“I’m walking” was all you answered, turning around to leave the building.

You felt a combination of guilt and anger. You hated how you snapped at her, how your response to her trauma was to be vindictive and unreasonable.

But you also felt tired and way over your head. It wasn’t like you’d been an agent for that long.

Maybe someone more experienced would do better, like Barton.

You found a bar and stayed there for a couple of hours, drinking on an empty stomach. You came back when it was too cold to wander around the city.

The alcohol had hit you harder than you thought, because when you opened your eyes it was noon.

Natasha was long gone by then.

The sight of pancakes on the stove and a note with your name made you want to cry.

You didn’t even know what you were doing at SHIELD headquarters that morning, but still stepped out of the cab and into the building.

“Agent Y/N” Fury said as you walked down the hallway.

It was the last voice you wanted to hear, sporting a massive hangover and a guilt ridden heart.

“Director Fury” you turned around, trying to sound composed.

“There’s a mission”

Missions were at the bottom of your list right now.

“Ask Maria” you snapped.

You fucked up.

“I’m not asking”

“I can’t leave Natasha now”

“She’s joining the mission”

“I don’t think she’s ready” you panicked, imagining her getting hurt over your mistakes.

“It’s been three months. I have to know if she’s at least worth the groceries we’re buying for you in that fancy penthouse in the Upper East Side, Agent” the door behind your back opened. Fury looked at you one last time and then nodded. “That would be all”

As you turned around, Natasha’s eyes met yours.

“I didn’t know if I should wake you…”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry, I slept in. Thanks for the pancakes. I’ll go back to the penthouse… I don’t know why I came here today”

“Ok. I have to stay and go over some stuff” she explained and you nodded.

“See you later”

Back home (it wasn’t really home, was it?), you headed straight for the gym. Correction, bathroom, to throw up, still hungover and then to the gym.

Natasha joined you an hour later, waiting for you to finish punching out your frustrations against a boxing bag.

“I’m sorry” she said, after a particularly hard punch that made you grunt. “I understand if you asked Fury to leave”

“Leave… what?” you turned to her, confused. “And why are you saying you’re sorry?”

“You know why” she said, looking down.

“That wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, Natasha. I should have known better. I should have protected you. You should feel safe and I’m failing”

“You didn’t fail” she insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I have. All my life, I’ve hurt and killed. But you know all that, you know it and you’re still not mad. Why aren’t you mad? Why don’t you think I’m a monster?” she said, looking anywhere but you.

“Did you have a choice?” you asked softly. She didn’t reply. “All I know is, the first time someone gave you a choice, you did the right thing”

“And I still hurt people”

“Yeah, our line of work isn’t really black and white, Natasha” you felt relieved when she finally looked at you, though her eyes were reddened. “If you had a choice now, what would you say? ”

“I think… I’d like to help people”

You smiled, not surprised by her answer. Of course she’d want to help. How you wished Natasha could see herself in the way you saw her.

“Good. Because Fury is eager to send us on a mission. Maybe this is a chance. You can save lives, do what’s right”

“I’d like that”

“You have a choice, know that. If you don’t feel ready, I will fight tooth and nail against Fury. Rip that eye patch if I have to”

Natasha smiled at that, and you could float with how relieved you felt. Maybe things could be better after all.

“I’ll start working on dinner” she offered after a beat of silence and you nodded.

Quietly, she exited the gym. The room felt empty again. And as much as you wanted to reach out to her, hold her hand or be closer, like you were before, you’d let her be.

Maybe one day, she’d meet you halfway

[vodika-vibes]

omg I can absolutely request something for kix, literally I'll take anything i love him so much

i'm not too fussy but maybe something hurt/comfort vibes with non-established relationship? if that takes your fancy, can be sfw or nsfw however it works out

love your writing sm :)

Watching Over You

Summary: ou know that Kix is “dealing” with his new truth by not dealing with it, and you know it’s only a matter of time before he falls apart. You’ll be there for him, until he no longer needs you.

Pairing: Pre Pirate!Kix x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1113

Warnings: Kix is straight up not having a good time.

A/N: So, this could be seen as platonic or pre-romantic, but I'm happy with it, but that might just be because it's Kix. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Alright, we’re all set,” You say as you step out of the shop while tugging your new gloves over your hands, “You sure you don’t need anything while we’re here?”

“From Nar Shaddaa?” Kix asks, as he tears his gaze away from a stall selling, probably stolen, speeders. “Hard pass. How do you know those are going to be any good?”

“Leather gloves are leather gloves, babe.” You counter as you hold your, now glove-covered, hands in front of your face, “They don’t need to be the best leather gloves in the galaxy, they just need to be able to protect my hands from the cold.”

Kix huffs, “You should let me run some blood tests. There’s no reason for you to be cold all of the time–”

“Hard pass, Doc.” You counter, “If I’m dying from some blood disease, I don’t want to know.”

Kix sighs again, and finally focuses his attention on you, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet still so adorable.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Thanks! I will.”

He shoots you a look, and you grin at him, “Come on, Kix. Let’s get out of here before the Hutts take offense at our presence.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He falls into step next to you, while you chatter his ear off about anything and everything that crosses your mind.

In the almost year that you’ve known, and traveled, with Kix, you’ve learned that he doesn’t like quiet. When there’s too much quiet he gets lost in his own mind, and starts spiraling.

And so, you fill the silence with stories, with mindless chatter, with music or movies or shows. Anything and everything you can do to make his suffering a little easier, you will do.

Honestly, you’ve never spoken so much in your life as you have in the past year.

You stop mid-sentence, when you glance to the side and realize that Kix is no longer walking with you. Quickly, you scan the crowd around you, and you quickly find him.

At first, you’re not sure what caught his attention, but as you approach him, you see what his gaze is locked on, and your heart sinks. He’s standing in front of an electronics store. An electronics store that has a massive holo showing a documentary about Darth Vader and his 501st.

Your jaw clenches and you slowly exhale, before you move to his side and wrap your arms around his arm, “Kix.” You keep your gaze on his face, on the pained, almost lost, expression that he wears when he’s lost in the past, “It’s time to go.”

He doesn’t react to your voice, but he also doesn’t stop you when you start tugging him away from the shop. And he doesn’t fight you when you walk him back to the spaceport and back to your ship.

In fact, in spite of your chatter, Kix is completely silent. 

He doesn’t say anything until you’re back on your ship. “Hey, can we wait a bit before we take off?”

You watch him for a moment, “Why?”

“I’d like a proper shower, and the water shower doesn’t work properly in space.” Kix replies.

“Mm, yeah. Okay.”

You pretend that you don’t notice him grabbing the portable holo as he heads into the fresher, and half an hour later, when you hear a quiet sob from the fresher, you turn on some music so he can have some privacy.

There’s no way for you to understand his grief.

Kix once had 2 million brothers…and now he’s alone in the galaxy. Only, he’s not alone, he has you, and he’ll continue to have you until he no longer needs you. And even then, you’ll stick around until he tells you to leave.

Personal loyalty to your friends has always been your fatal flaw, according to your old school teachers.

When he finally emerges from the fresher, his eyes are red and he looks exhausted. Bone deep exhausted.

You watch him for a moment, and then you sigh, “Kix,”

He glances at you, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not okay, Kix. And that’s okay.” You set the bowl that you were using to make some meatballs on the counter and walk over to him to take his hands in yours, “I...have given you your space, but maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this.”

You squeeze his hands, “Yes, I do. I…cannot even begin to understand the kind of loss that you suffered. I can’t. No one can. But you’re not alone in this.”

“My whole family is dead, cyare.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone.” You counter, “I will be here for you, for as long as you accept it. And probably longer.”

He stares at you, and then he sighs and drops his cheek on the top of your head while hooking his arms around your waist, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong about that too, but I can be patient with you.”

The pair of you don’t say anything for a while, “What are you making?”

“Meatballs. We’re having pasta for dinner. With homemade noodles.”

“Huh. Have you made the dough yet?”

You smile at him, “Nope, I know you like that part. The ingredients are in the fridge.”

Later, as he’s kneading the dough while you sing along to the radio and form meatballs, he turns down the music and glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s up?” You ask, without looking at him.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Whatever you need, Kix. You just need to ask.” You reply, turning to look at him with a fond smile on your face.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “Also…?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think you can put me in contact with Luke Skywalker? I’d like to get to know him…and maybe share some stories about his dad.”

“Mm, I don’t know if I can get you in contact with Master Skywalker, but I can probably get you in contact with General Organa-Solo.” You reply lightly, “She might be able to get you in touch with Master Skywalker.”

“...thanks, cyare.”

“Like I said, Kix. Whatever you need. For however long you need it.”

The pair of you go back to your respective projects and as you finish forming the last meatball and pull your food prep gloves off, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, “Thank you.”

You grin at him and thread your fingers with his to give his hand a squeeze, “No worries, Kix. I’ll watch over you until you’re ready to look after yourself. And then I’ll keep doing it. That’s what I do.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 6)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Under Age Drinking, Under Age Marijuana Use, Violence and Displays of Toxic Relationship Acts. If I missed one, please let me know.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Rafe throws a party in an attempt to see Y/N. Y/N finds out a heart breaking truth. 

Masterlist

Rafe knows Y/N is ignoring him. No matter what he tries, she never so much as utters a word in his direction. So he is giving her some space. He could say that he isn’t throwing a party for the sole purpose of hopefully seeing Y/N for a split second if she chooses to come, but he’d be lying. Normally, he goes from room to room to check on people. Today, he is in the kitchen, guarding the stuff he bought specifically for Y/N in case she shows up. He sees someone reaching for the hard kombucha in the fridge, “Touch that can and I will throw you out of my house faster than you can say kombucha.” The person quickly closed the fridge and exited the kitchen. “You better not be opening that Oreo package,” he threatens to Mason, who Rafe knows has been eyeing the package. 

“Dude, come on. I told you that she isn’t coming. She went to something that Wilson is holding. It sounded fancy. So let me just have one, please,” Mason begs while he inches toward the package again.

“Still you never know. Maybe she’ll get bored and stop by?”

“I love you, dude. And I want to see you guys together, but I think it’s time to call it. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” 

“I know my chances. I still have hope though. We are meant to be, I just know it.”

———

Y/N sits at the dinner table with all of Wilson’s friends. He is having a dinner soirée. Honestly, Y/N is bored out of her mind, but Wilson is her boyfriend and this is typically a girlfriend's duty. La Bleue Fleur is catering and the topic of conversation is that uninteresting Civil War documentary that Wilson made her watch.  Y/N is pushing around the leftover garnish on her plate as she is the first person to finish eating. “Y/N, what did you think of Timothy Satonis’ masterpiece?” Allen asks, looking toward the girl. She is caught off guard by the question because she has mostly been left out of the conversation. “Uhh, not gonna lie, I zoned out during the movie. Docs really aren’t my thing,” she replies to the group, which causes them to look at her with horror in their eyes. The group is awkwardly silent for a second before Wilson directs the conversation to something Y/N can be involved in, “Did you guys know Y/N is Cassie Y/L/N’s daughter?” 

This sparks a conversation between the dinner guests. “Have you met her?” Hailey questions excitedly. Wilson smiles with pride, “Yes, I have. We met when I took Y/N to Midsummer. Later on,  I gave her a manuscript of my book when I visited Y/N’s house the other day. Hopefully, she can pass it on to her publisher and it gets published.” Y/N finds it strange that Wilson would say it like he was the one to ask her to Midsummer when in reality she is the one to ask him out. “That is an amazing idea. Y/N, what is your favourite book of hers?” Josh inquiries. “Um, probably Murder in The Deep. The series is inspired by my love of murder mysteries and the main character, Arabella, is modelled after me. So it feels pretty personal and sentimental to me. She even mentions me in the dedication and named a murder victim after me.” “I see. Wilson did not tell us you were one of those types of readers,” Josh remarks with judgement in his tone. She turns towards Wilson to see if he will stand up for her. He doesn’t, so Y/N once again zones out as everyone else continues talking about her mom like she is not there. She feels a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything to avoid making anyone else feel the same way. 

After dinner and dessert are finished, the evening continues in the family room with a game of trivia. Y/N is usually good at trivia as she is on track to being valedictorian and she loves to know random, obscure facts. However, this game of trivia is all related to the same topics, which bore her to death. “If you’re a fan of Ella Fitzgerald, Benny Goodman, and Miles Davis, which museum in Kansas City will be music to your ears?” Allen reads from the card. Hailey rings her bell quickly, “Amerian Jazz Museum!” The group claps at her answer. Y/N didn’t even know there was a museum only for Jazz music, let alone that it was in Kansas City. Hailey takes the next card, “Bela Bartok and Romantic composer Franz Liszt are typically considered the greatest composers to emerge from what European nation?” Y/N wants to be included in the game, so she tries to take a guess at the answer and rings her bell, “Is it Germany?” Wilson shakes his head in disappointment and she can see the embarrassment in his eyes. “Of course, it is not Germany, Y/N. Everyone knows they are from Hungary. If you do not know the answer, then do not bother answering the question,” he chastises and Y/N feels as though she is a child. 

“Excuse me, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Y/N excuses as she gets up to find the bathroom, hoping to escape the situation. Y/N knew she should stand up for herself, but she didn’t wanna make a scene because that would also be embarrassing. She is walking back to the family room when she hears her name being spoken. She stops just outside of the family room archway, hiding behind the wall. “I do not understand why you are dating her. She has no substance at all. She is vapid and I do not know how you can spend so much time with her,” she hears Hailey complain. This absolutely guts Y/N because this is another one of her insecurities. When compared to the intelligent life of the part, Elizabeth Huntington, she felt uninteresting with her more reserved personality. However, nothing prepares her for the feeling of what Wilson says next. “It is about looking at the advantages. Y/N may be vapid, but I got to meet Cassie and hopefully, I can be mentored by her. It is the only reason why I asked her out. I heard a rumour that the Y/L/N’s like to spend time on the beach where we met. I figured I was bound to meet one of them eventually.”

Y/N could continue to just stand there and be sorry for herself, but her blood is now boiling and she decides to stand up for herself, no matter how much she wants to cry right now. She steps out from behind the wall, “I may be vapid, but at least, I’m not a lonely boy, who is so obsessed with an author that I stalked her and her family. It is so sad that you used another human being just to get your boring ass manuscript read. My mom showed me the manuscript and we both agree that you sound like a giant stick in the mud even when you write. You don’t have to worry about putting up with me any longer because we are over!” This isn’t her finest moment, but she storms out in a hurry. She can only make it so far before she realizes that she could not walk home all the way. Her vision is blurry, meaning she could not see three feet in front of her. 

She decides it is safer to call someone to come pick her up. She takes out her phone and dials her brother’s number, “Dude, why are you calling? Are you a boomer? Anyways leave a message at the beep.” Voicemail. She calls her parents and gets voicemail again. Right, they are staying on the mainland for the night because her mom has a back-to-back book signing there. She goes to call Lacey, but notices she has a voicemail from her friend. “Y/NNNNN, I love youuuuu. Before you ask, I amz totes not drink. Drink. Drunk, lol. Okay, maybe I am. But, I wants you to know I loves you. Alsoooo, I total- total- totally made out with Derren. He is so h-” The voicemail cuts off before Lacey could finish her drunken rant. This causes Y/N to stop crying for a second and giggle at Lacey’s drunken antics. But the realization that she only has one other person to call whom she felt comfortable with makes her feel anxious because she is not even sure he is going to answer her call after the way she has been ignoring him. 

———

Rafe sits on his couch with Elizabeth on his lap and her tongue down his throat. He was able to convince her that saying Y/N’s name during Midsummer was a mistake, which leads to them having been making out for the last ten minutes. Even with the raging music of the party, Rafe could hear the beginning notes of “The Book of You and I” by Alec Benjamin. It is the ringtone he assigned for Y/N. He must admit it is a strange song to have chosen because it talks about a breakup and he and Y/N haven’t even started their story. The song reminds him of her and he knows Y/N loves the song just because of the mention of a book. She loves the idea of a love story being a book of the two people in the relationship. He immediately pulls away from Elizabeth, leaving the girl frustrated again to go answer the phone somewhere quieter. The song couldn’t even make it to the second note because Rafe answers it. 

“Y/L/N, are you hurt?” he immediately interrogates with worry seeping into his voice. With Y/N ignoring him for the past couple of weeks, he knows it must be serious if she is calling him right now at night. “Ca- Can y- yo- you pi-pick m-e u-u-up, please?” he hears her struggle to say through her tears. Rafe’s eyebrows knit together in concern, “Absolutely, send me your pin and I’ll be there immediately.” Y/N whispers a meek okay and goodbye before hanging up the phone, not giving him a chance to ask further questions.

———

Once again another party ended early for Y/N’s safety, but seeing as Rafe threw the party just to get her attention, he had no problem with ushering everyone out of his house as fast as he can. He doesn’t even wait for everyone to be gone before hopping into his jeep and driving off to the location Y/N sent him. He held very little regard for his own safety as he drove past stop signs and red lights. All that matters is making sure she is safe. He finally gets to his destination, the end of Wilson’s driveway. Y/N sits on the decorative rock in a full-on sobbing fit. Rafe jumps out after double-checking he put the car in park. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her into his neck without saying a word. After a few minutes, she calms down enough to tell him what happened. “He was only dating me to get to my mom. He said I was vapid and I know it’s true, but it just hurts to hear someone else confirm it.” Rafe blood boils at how Wilson made Y/N feel, “You are not vapid. You’re a rose. When you meet a new person, you are the bud. You are more reserved around them. But when you start to bloom, your passion, love, and joy start to show. Just like how when a rose starts to open up you start to see the beautiful red colour that hides within. Wilson was just too selfish and boring for you to do anything interesting with him.” She smiles up at him and nods her head in understanding. “Wait, here for a second. I’m going to go do something real quick before we leave,” he explains before getting up and walking toward the front door.

Rafe knocks on the auspicious door and waits for Wilson to open it. “What are y-” Wilson tries to say, but he is interrupted by Rafe’s fist punching him in the face. “Come near Y/N again and I’ll do a whole lot worse,” he warns, running off toward Y/N. She stands there shocked at what just happened. She giggles at the image of Rafe coming towards her. He grabs her hand as he passes by and drags her toward his car. Once he helps her up, he goes around and drives off, watching in the back mirror as Wilson and his friends finally catch up to the street. Rafe pulls out his phone to play “Getaway Car” by Taylor Swift, which causes Y/N to fall into hysterics.  

Rafe drives Y/N to Tannyhill because he knows her parents aren’t home and that Mason is probably still in a guest room with Amanda, even after the party is ended. “Where is everyone?” Y/N ponders out loud as she sees the empty house. Mason told her about the party Rafe was throwing. “Sent them home when you called,” he informs her without skipping a beat. He says it in a matter-of-fact way that she knows he doesn’t want her to feel guilty. The car stops and they see Mason come out to join them outside. “Dude, where did you go?” Mason pauses when he sees the tear-streaked face belonging to his twin. “Y/N/N, what’s wrong?” “Wilson was only dating me because of mom,” Y/N mumbles, attaching herself to Rafe. His being there during her time of vulnerability has caused her to feel comfort in his grasp. Mason’s face contorts into anger, “HE DID WHAT! I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!” Y/N quickly goes to her brother’s side and puts her arm out so he can’t get past her. “Don’t worry. Rafe already punched him for me,” she assures her brother, who pulls her into a hug. “Mace, you didn’t pick up your phone.” He grimaces and places a kiss on her forehead, “I know, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Rafe was there,” she whispers in the nook. “Should we go home?” Mason asks. “No, can we go to the balcony?” She replies, looking between Mason and Rafe. Both boys nod and follow her to her desired destination. 

Rafe and Y/N make a quick stop to get her more comfortable clothes, so Mason goes to get some snacks. Rafe goes past his room, heading towards Sarah’s room. He looks back to check in with Y/N and notices she isn’t following him. She is paused at his door, waiting for him to follow her. “What’s wrong? Sarah’s room is this way,” he points in the direction of the room. Y/N looks at her feet while shifting her weight between the two, “Actually, can I borrow some of your clothes, please? They are comfy.” Rafe smiles at her suggestion, “Of course, you can, Y/L/N.” he takes her inside. He gives her a plain gray T-shirt and black sweatpants. It may be a mundane outfit, but Rafe loved how she looked in his clothes. She is practically swimming in his shirt because he is so much taller than her and she had to tie her sweatpants very tight so they wouldn’t slip down so much. They both giggle at her constant need to pull up the pants as they head to the balcony. 

———

Mason sits opposite from Y/N and Rafe with a joint in hand while Y/N cuddles herself into Rafe’s arms. They’ve been talking about anything and everything just to cheer Y/N up. “Why the dude never used contractions was so fucking weird. He sounded like such an old person,” Mason jokes while taking a drag of his blunt. Rafe laughs, “Those stupid button-up shirts he’d wear all the damn time. With his name monogrammed onto them. He looked like such a douchebag in them.” This continuous mockery of Wilson has cheered Y/N up. “I caught him ironing the collar of it. Only an asshole is that uptight,” she joins in while taking a swing of her hard kombucha. The boys nod in agreement. Mason snubs out the joint and gets up from his seat, “I’m gonna head to bed. Y/N, you cool if we sleep here?” She nods; originally, she was supposed to sleep over at Wilson’s house. With that, Mason leaves the two alone. 

They sit in comfortable silence, drinking their drinks and looking up at the stars. She has now shifted so her head is on his chest and his arm is around her neck. Y/N opens up the pack of Oreos placed on the coffee table in front of them. She untwists the top of the one she picks up and gives the bottom with the cream on it to Rafe. Understanding what she wants him to do, he grabs the bottom and eats the cream for her before handing it back to her. Y/N and Wilson never had this unspoken language while they were dating. “Why doesn’t anyone love me for me?” She wonders as she gives him another Oreo. “Someone does. He’s just waiting for you to be ready,” Rafe whispers without realizing that she heard him. She looks up at him from her position and he looks down at her. She closes her eyes and starts to lean in to kiss him. No matter how much he wishes he could lean down to meet her lips, he knows this isn’t the right moment, so he pulls away. “As much as I want to kiss you right now, I would rather our first kiss be when you are feeling less vulnerable and are 100% sober,” he tells her. Disappointment is written all over her face, but she knows that he made the right decision. She would prefer their first kiss to feel more right and not just because he is there being sweet to her after a breakup. She nuzzles back into his chest and they go back to just enjoy each other’s company. Her light snores tell him she has fallen asleep and instead of waking her up from her slumber, he picks her up and takes her to the other guest bedroom. He tucks her into the bed and admires the serene look on her face as she sleeps. He lightly kisses her forehead and goes back to his room to welcome the sleep. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog  @gillybear17  @terraeluce​  @f4ll-for-you​ 

[caralara]

hi cara....something about babygate in the doc is kind of unsetteling to me.....why do you think louis would go would use his late mother to portray a lie? He uses his mom to make bbg look real that kinda stings a little. I mean I genuinely thought louis would never use something so sensitive and painful to portray a big fat lie (babygate). I guess he isn't the person I thought he was. It doesn't sit right with me....I mean there is a reason why she deleted all pic of F before she went to heaven💔

Hi love,

I very much understand where you’re coming from, but I’ve found for myself that I realised there’s a certain narrative that the majority of the larrie fandom has taken as canon that we just… can’t know if it’s true or not.

After watching the documentary I’ve been thinking that Louis is actually much closer to Freddie than most people want/think. This doesn’t mean he’s his dad, it just means they’re comfortable with each other and that they’re not total strangers. Louis loves kids, and he’s excellent with them - and no matter what, at this point, Freddie plays a part in Louis‘ life, and I don’t think Louis blamed freddie himself for any of the closet he’s been pushed in.

Also, implying that Jay deleting the Freddie photos from her insta feed means she disapproved of Louis‘ compliancy in babygate is in my eyes simply wrong. Jay was a big part of the babygate narrative while she was still with us, similar to how Lottie is now.

Jay and Louis were as close as it gets, and Jay was unconditionally supportive of Louis in every way. She embraced Eleanor, and she took part in Babygate. I am 100% sure that Jay would have brought down heaven and hell if Louis so much as hinted at actually not wanting to go through with any of it, which makes me think that Jay did exactly what Louis asked of her, in this case participate in the stunting to keep Louis and Harry and their careers safe. Mind you, I’m not saying Louis wanted to do all this, just that he made the decision to go through it all in order to be able to keep not only his but 1D‘s career in tact.

Only Jay really knows why she deleted the freddie posts before she passed, but I can see that she might had thought that this would not go on forever, and that she wouldn’t be around to do it before it ended - and that that’s what she wanted with a look into Louis‘ future, for him to not be reminded of having to go through something this difficult every time he’d visit his late mum‘s Instagram.

Ultimately, as always, this is Louis‘ closet, it’s Louis‘ stunt, it‘s Louis‘ grief and I feel we have absolutely no right to decide for him if he’s handling that the way it’s supposed to be or classy or meaningful or meaningless.

These are my thoughts. Said with love ♥️

[glenngaylord]

Field Trip - Film Review: Happy Clothes ★★★½

At 83 years old, fashion designer/icon Patricia Field seems to accomplish more in one morning than most people do in a month. Slackers and ageists, take note! In Michael Selditch’s joyful documentary, Happy Clothes: A Film About Patricia Field, you’re guaranteed to conclude that you haven’t done enough with your life. Best known for her unforgettable work on Sex And The City, Emily In Paris, Ugly Betty, The Devil Wears Prada and for her trend-setting Manhattan stores dating back to 1966, Patricia Field has always been associated with a burst of colors and patterns, not always matching, yet always memorable.

How appropriate then that the documentary feels the same and is all the better for it. Eschewing many of the tropes littered across so many biodocs, Selditch creates a heady vibe instead. We get smatterings of backstory and talking heads from such luminaries as Kim Cattrall, Sarah Jessica Parker, Lily Collins, and Michael Urie, but the vast majority of this film evokes that fly-on-the-wall bottled lightning from simply watching Field go about her day tending to her many projects. Sure we learn about her upbringing and her relationships with women over the years, but we get no deep character exploration. In fact, its mission statement almost feels like the opposite. Patricia Field, with her chainsmoker voice, shock of red hair and incredibly chic eyewear, comes across as a lovable curmudgeon, someone who will tell a driver the fastest route but who will do so with a smile. She’s got Larry David’s assertiveness, Joan Rivers’ work ethic, and yet has that sweet and salty, Mama Bear quality of Mercedes Ruehl in Big. She clearly knows what she wants and fearlessly voices her opinion, yet she also enjoys the company of others, especially the raft of designers and staff she’s worked with over the years. Consider her the ultimate New York Diva who’s also a good hang.

Beautifully and astutely shot by Cinematographer, Kris Lindenmuth, the film has a natural flow, and while fairly stakes free, had me smiling the entire time. Here’s a subject who enjoys interacting with others, but doesn’t especially believe the hype they often spew at her. Considering herself more of a consultant than as designer, Field downplays so much of her work and seems to attribute it to having a good gut. She’s so refreshingly matter-of-fact in that way I love New Yorkers more than any other people on the planet. As she says late in the film, “I just want to live until I die and that’s the end of it.” What an unpretentious way to sum up a big life such as hers. Yes, at her age she admits she’s ready to retire, and with her juggling her television shows, fashion designs, memoir, and this very documentary, who can blame her for wanting to finally kick back?

More than anything, this film gets to the heart of an artist’s aesthetic. We watch as she sparks to a certain fabric or shoe design. We marvel at her eye for combining patterns. Her relationships with those she’s dressed also gives us so much insight into how her mind works and why actors feel their characters so well when Field gives them their framework. I especially loved hearing Michael Urie talk about how his crazy looks came together on Ugly Betty and how it instantly defined him.

Of course, many will look for signs of tension between Kim Cattrall and Sarah Jessica Parker, both interviewed here separately, yet both speak so lovingly of their collaborations with Field and how their costumes helped turn them both into iconic stars. One could squint really hard and see a little one-upmanship between the two in who has a better relationship with Field, but that’s a mighty big stretch. In fact, this may be the least gossipy film I’ve seen within the world of fashion. She set the world on fire and had fun doing it. Never self-aggrandizing, Patricia Field, like this fun little slice of life doc, is pure pop fizz.

Happy Clothes - A Film About Patricia Field opens September 20th at the IFC Center in Manhattan and wherever you rent movies on digital.

[c-optimistic]

for your happy prompts ask, perhaps kara is a documentary film maker who follows ceo lena around for a doc and ends up falling in love with her by learning a bunch of little things she finds out during filming? also p.s. i absolutely adore your writing even when it tugs at the heartstrings. thank you for writing what you do! it makes my day everytime i see an update or get an email

She wasn’t allowed to see Lena Luthor until she’d signed so many papers that, if stacked together, would be taller than she was. She wasn’t even allowed to touch her camera around Lena Luthor until the woman herself, CEO extraordinaire, had personally vetted Kara out.

“You know,” Kara said as casually as she could, finding herself nervously adjusting her glasses when Lena’s cold gaze fell on her, “I usually have a whole team with me when I do this.”

“And I agreed to this on the condition that only one nosy filmmaker follows me around, not a whole team.” Lena’s reply was like everything else Kara had learned about the CEO thus far: she was blunt, a little harsh, tone and eyes cold and emotionless. She gave nothing away, not in her walk, in her mannerisms, in the ridiculously healthy food she ate, in the way she spoke to her employees or board members. She was cool, detached, wickedly smart, and utterly composed. “And I must approve the final result,” she added, gesturing to the mountain of paperwork Kara signed.

(Kara sighed internally, a tiny part of her sure Lena was a robot.)

“But it’s everything, right?” Kara clarified. “A total look into your life, no holding back?”

“You may follow me around to your heart’s content,” Lena said, leaning back in her desk chair, studying Kara intently.

“May I ask, Ms. Luthor, what made you agree to this, when you’re usually so distrustful of the media?”

Lena gave Kara a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “What made you ask to do this when you know I distrust the media?”

Lena hadn’t answered, so Kara knew she didn’t have to either, but she felt it was important to establish some kind of rapport with the woman she’d be following around for the next few weeks. “I’m of the opinion that things are rarely as simple as they seem from the outside, that’s all.”

“Well,” Lena said, looking pleasantly surprised and offering Kara a grin (a real one, one that touched her eyes and transformed her face), “perhaps that’s why I agreed to you doing this.”

x

“You’re one of Ms. Luthor’s closest friends, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Since before your daughter was born?”

“Yup.”

“So would you say you know her quite well?”

“Sure.”

“Do you plan on answering any of my questions with more than one word?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. So, in one word I suppose, how would you describe Ms. Luthor to a stranger?”

“Flawless.”

x

The rules of her arrangement with Lena were rather simple. For the next several weeks, Lena consented to having Kara around from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to sleep. In return, Kara was not allowed in certain meetings at L-Corp, was not allowed to bring her camera with her at all when Lena went down to R&D, and if Lena asked for her to stop filming at any point, Kara was bound to immediately do so and erase any footage she may have inadvertently captured.

For the first two days of the arrangement, it was actually rather boring. Lena was awake before the crack of dawn, she didn’t acknowledge Kara’s presence as she made coffee and toast (though she did push a cup and a plate towards Kara), and then spent the next fifteen or so hours in her office, sifting through papers, answering phone calls and responding to emails, and forgetting meals. It wasn’t until the third day that Lena’s routine changed slightly.

She received a phone call at breakfast, and whoever it was caused a bright red blush to bloom on her cheeks. Kara zoomed in slightly on Lena’s face as she answered the call. “Now’s not really a good time, Sam,” she began, falling silent at whatever this Sam was saying on the other end. Lena’s eyes flitted over towards Kara, but to her surprise, she didn’t ask for Kara to shut off the camera. “That sounds terrible,” she said, sounding truly apologetic, something about her countenance changing. She seemed softer, more open, calmer than Kara had seen her yet. “And Ruby was so excited too.” Lena fell silent once more, nodding almost as if unaware of it. “I agree with her,” Lena suddenly laughed, still nodding, “it’s not fair at all. But there’s no way I’m not going to visit. Do you want me to bring anything?” Lena laughed again, and Kara wondered if her camera was capturing the change she was witnessing with her own eyes. “As if I could forget Ruby’s chocolate.” A pause. “Give her all my love.” Another pause, a tiny smile on Lena’s lips. “All right, I will. Bye.”  As she hung up, she looked over at Kara, as if daring her to comment, everything about her shuttering at once.

“Who was that?” Kara asked, not really expecting an answer. To her surprise, however, Lena’s eyes flitted to the camera and she let out a soft, resigned sigh.

“That was my CFO, Sam Arias,” she answered, her tone a complete 180 from what she was using on the phone. She studied Kara for a moment and must have read something on her face, because her shoulders deflated and she motioned towards her phone. “Sam is my best friend. Her daughter, Ruby, is my goddaughter. We were supposed to go to the animal shelter today.” Lena smiled softly, almost as if unaware of it. “She’s finally convinced Sam she’s responsible enough for a pet. It’s actually—” Lena stopped suddenly, her eyes shifting to the camera once more, any warmth that had managed to leak out dissipating at once. “In any case, she’s sick. So we’ll have to reschedule.” She waved her hand towards the camera. “Can you turn that off, please?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Kara said quickly, making a show of turning the Camcorder off and setting it aside. “Is something wrong?”

Lena shook her head, leaning against her kitchen counter as she eyed Kara with something like curiosity. “You know, I’ve seen all of your other work,” she said after a moment, frowning at Kara like she was a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

(Had she? Seen all of Kara’s work? A part of Kara was curious as to how, after all, most of her stuff was tucked away in a closet back in Midvale, waiting to be opened up and viewed during Christmas, when Alex would laugh at the films she’d made in high school about how the boys’ sports teams were unfairly given more attention than the girls’. The others were projects for her degree and one or two failed attempts to get a real production company to take the risk on her.

In fact, if not for Cat Grant’s decision as ‘The Queen of All Media’ to get involved in filmmaking, funding a project from a no-name creator, Kara wasn’t even sure she’d have the film she was making now.)

“Oh,” she said inarticulately, not quite sure how to word what she was really thinking. How rich did you have to be to be able to bribe anyone into giving you anything?

Lena nodded carefully, her face a perfect mask. If not for the way her eyes followed Kara’s every movement, Kara would’ve even thought that Lena was bored. “You’re very fond of certain themes. Hope. Love. Endless optimism in the best of humanity.” She said it like it was a bad thing. And it was suddenly Kara’s turn to lean forward on the opposite end of the counter, feeling her head tilt to the side questioningly.

“Is that what you got from my films?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Lena seemed wary of the question, standing up straight and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Isn’t that what you intended?”

“You know,” Kara said slowly, “I don’t actually believe in all that creator’s intent nonsense. I think we search for parts of ourselves when we consume art. So if that’s what you got from my films, that says more about you than it does about me.”

If anything, this seemed to offend Lena. “So you’d deny having any sort of intent with your work? What about making something with meaning?”

Kara laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I mean, and besides, who says art has to mean anything?”

“Of course art means something,” Lena argued, narrowing her eyes at Kara. “What’s the point of doing it if it doesn’t mean anything?”

Kara shrugged easily, giving Lena a small smile. “I disagree. I think art says something. But meaning is up to the people who consume it.” She picked up her camera and pointed it at Lena without turning it on. “Doesn’t matter what I intended to say with my films, you got meaning from it. So I’d say there was a point in making it, don’t you think?”

Lena eyed her for a moment, apparently not liking that Kara wasn’t giving her an answer, wasn’t telling her what she was trying to say with her work. But then, after several long seconds, she relented, letting out a chuckle and shaking her head. “Well, fine,” she said, her smile touching her eyes. “As long as you don’t try to say anything silly like hope, love, or endless optimism in the best of humanity with this film.”

“I’m afraid I can’t change who you are, Ms. Luthor,” Kara said softly, turning her camera on and effectively cutting off any response Lena may have had.

(And when she looks at the footage weeks later, she’ll freeze that frame, breath catching at the look on Lena’s face: the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows.)

x

“Do you spend a lot of time with your godmother?”

“Oh yeah, loads! She’s great.”

“What sort of things do you do with her?”

“I mean, normal stuff? She takes me to get ice cream all the time. The other day, she rented that new horror movie that came out and watched it with me when I stayed over. My mom went nuts when she found out.”

“So you like her?”

“No, of course not. I love Lena. She’s my aunt, you know? She’s family.”

“And if you had the chance, what would you want the world to know about her?”

“That she cares, so much. And that she’s funny and super smart and helps me with homework and after my mom she’s the very best person I know.”

x

The visit to Luthor Children’s Hospital was, as far as Kara was aware, unplanned and in fact gave Jess a great deal of anxiety. For her part, Kara was mostly frustrated and annoyed, wondering if this film was worth it at all. Because Lena Luthor seemed to be asking Kara to turn off the camera more and more, especially when her day deviated at all and she was forced to leave her office.

(Walks in the park, lunches with her goddaughter, a touching moment with the child of one of her employees...all locked away somewhere in Kara’s memory, but destined to remain there instead of on film, where it should be.)

She huffed a little bit as she leaned against the wall, watching Lena walk quickly towards the group of nurses and doctors. She didn’t say anything when Jess joined her, a contemplative look on her face. “She always does this,” Jess told Kara after a long silence, rolling her eyes fondly. “She’ll cancel meetings last minute because she heard one of the kids in the hemoc ward has finished treatment or that they’re out of toys to give to the new patients.”

“Why isn’t there any press if she does this often?” Kara asked, turning to Jess but watching Lena out of the corner of her eye. She was talking to one of the doctors now, looking comically out of place with her designer clothes while surrounded by colorful artwork by kids that littered the walls of the Children’s Hospital.

Jess fixed Kara with an unimpressed look. “You’ve met her, right?” she asked rhetorically. “She goes out of her way to hide these visits. She says that she has to keep it under wraps because she wants to keep it about the kids and not her. But I think the truth is she’s just worried people would mistreat the kids and their families for allowing a ‘Luthor’ within ten feet of them.”

“Oh,” Kara said dumbly, a little stunned by the new information, and feeling guilty for her thoughts earlier. “That’s...awful.”

“I’m not telling you this for nothing, you know,” Jess continued, frowning at Kara. “She’s been avoiding lots of her usual charitable work since you’ve been around. The whole point of this was to get everyone else to see the real Lena Luthor, but she’s ruining it by being humble and noble.”

(Kara wanted to groan, roll her eyes, or better yet go over to Lena herself and shake her until she understood what Kara’s job was.

How was she supposed to make a documentary about Lena Luthor if Lena Luthor was so determined to hide herself away from the world?)

“What would you have me do?” she asked, not voicing her frustration, though it seeped into her tone anyway. “We have a deal, and she doesn’t want me to film these things.”

Jess shook her head, looking terribly unimpressed by the answer. “Don’t you have artistic integrity? Would you allow anyone else to boss you around and tell you what you could and couldn’t film?”

Kara looked over at Lena, who was now smiling at a young boy who had ambled up to her with his mother and infusion pump stand in tow. She watched as Lena actually dropped to her knees to talk to the boy, nodding vigorously at whatever he was saying. After a long moment, she turned back to Jess and shook her head. “No,” she said finally. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

And after Jess had given her another significant look before walking off, Kara raised her camera and began to film.

x

“Mr. Spheer, you’re an ex of Lena Luthor’s, right?”

“Ah, I see this documentary is quite personal. Are you sure that Lena is okay with this sort of thing going into her movie?”

“Well, it’s my movie. But she’s free to ask me to take things out.”

“Fascinating. Yes, I am Lena’s ex. I was quite brokenhearted when she broke it off to move to National City.”

“Oh, she broke it off?”

“So curious, Ms. Danvers. Perhaps you’re interested in something beyond a mere film?”

“W-what? No, that’s—please be serious, Mr. Spheer—”

“It’s Jack to you, my dear. What else do you need to know about Lena? Her favorite flowers are plumerias, her favorite food is—”

“—oh that’s really not necessary. If we could just focus on who Lena is as a person. A friend. A former girlfriend?”

“Hmm, yes. Well, just imagine your perfect woman, Ms. Danvers.”

“Oh, um, I—”

“—exactly, you see Lena. That’s an universal experience, I’m afraid. Lena is simply...too good for this world.”

“So you’d say the treatment she gets by the public is unfair?”

“It’s unfair how much people attack pineapple on pizza, Ms. Danvers. The way they speak of Lena without knowing her? That’s a pure travesty.”

x

They were about ten days into filming when Kara saw Lena relax for the first time.

She was using the word ‘relax’ rather loosely, of course. Lena didn’t do what Kara did after a long week—put on a pair of sweatpants, order loads of junk food, and watch so much Netflix that it eventually felt the need to ask her if she was still watching. In fact, Lena’s idea of relaxing was more work. Just, fun work.

She was dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, knees pulled up to her chest as she sat at her desk, mumbling under her breath as she did whatever she was doing. (She hadn’t bothered to explain to Kara, had just sighed and acquiesced to the presence of the camera in her home office.) Perched precariously at the tip of her nose were a thick black pair of glasses, her hair falling to her shoulders in gentle waves.

She looked different. Softer, somehow. Gone was all the trappings of a badass CEO, and all that was left was a clever (and beautiful) young woman, working on the things she loved in her spare time.

Kara zoomed in slightly, focusing on Lena’s face, on the furrow between her brows, her lips twisted in concentration. There was something there, something different, and Kara just wanted to—

“Is that camera heavy?” Lena asked, looking up suddenly, a curious expression on her face. She was good at that, the polite looks, gently asking for more information. Tiny eyebrow raises, nearly imperceptible softening of her eyes, lips quirked the slightest bit, all intended to disarm her quarry, making them drop their guard long enough that they give everything held close to their chest away.

“Not really,” Kara answered, grinning at Lena. This made the other woman blink in surprise, clearly not the response she was looking for, that expression on her face shifting suddenly, becoming more calculating. “I work out,” Kara went on to explain, shrugging easily, careful not to jostle the camera. “Besides, it’s not that heavy, I think about five pounds.”

“What kind of camera do you use?”

“Oh, it’s a Panasonic AG-HVX—” she cut herself off. “It’s not that interesting.” Kara adjusted her glasses and made sure Lena’s face was still in focus. Somehow, this made Lena’s tiny smile reappear. She stood up and circled her desk, and Kara was forced to back away to maintain focus.

“You love filming, don’t you?” Lena asked, and Kara blinked, not quite sure where she was going with this.

“Ms. Luthor, as I’m sure you’re aware, this film is about you.”

If she thought this would in any way cow Lena, she was wrong. Lena just grinned, looking like she’d somehow won something.

“Do you know what I don’t understand?” she said with faux casualness, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her elbow. “Why would you, someone Cat Grant speaks so highly of, be willing to agree to this assignment? Something most people wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”

Kara frowned, not thinking as she responded. “It wasn’t assigned, Ms. Luthor. I pitched the idea. I wanted to do this.” Lena’s words sank in a moment later. “Wait. Cat Grant spoke highly of me?”

“Why?” Lena asked, no longer smiling.

Kara blinked at the change in tone. “Why what?” she asked, genuinely confused. This was, apparently, the wrong answer, because Lena chose that moment to begin pacing in front of her desk, looking more than a little bothered.

“I don’t get it,” she said as she paced. “I tried to figure it out, looked into you, into your work. I thought maybe you were doing this to build fame, but I’ve seen your work and even without a movie about the last Luthor, I have no doubt you’ll be very popular—”

“Oh, that’s nice of you, thank y—”

“—then I thought maybe you have a vendetta against my family and just want me to look bad,” Lena continued, barreling over Kara’s words and ignoring her entirely, “but the only connection between you and my family is your cousin, Clark Kent, and he’s the journalist who broke the story on my brother, so if anything I should dislike you—”

“That’s not exactly...Clark and I aren’t—”

“—so I really need you to explain it to me. Why did you want to make this film?” She paused her brisk pacing as she asked the question, meeting Kara’s eyes with a fierce look, one Kara was infinitely glad she was capturing on film. Because this, this glint in Lena’s eyes, was why Kara wanted to do this.

“Do you remember the speech you gave when you came to National City?” Kara asked, and judging from the way Lena’s eyebrows rose in response, she was rather thrown by the question. “Because I do. I watched it maybe a few dozen times. All those horrible questions, all the absolute certainty that you were like your brother, and you kept your head up and you promised to prove them all wrong, to make up for what he did.” Kara sighed, shutting off the camera and setting it aside gently. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I was...interested. I wanted to see more.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did I meet your expectations? Disappoint you? What?”

Kara smiled, unable to help it. “Does my opinion on you really matter?”

“Do you always answer a question with another question?” Lena shot back, eyes narrowing.

Kara’s smile just widened and she began to gather her things, preparing to leave for the night. Impressively, Lena didn’t question her further, just watched her then followed her to the door, looking rather cross. Pausing briefly to adjust her glasses and the strap of her bag, Kara turned suddenly and met Lena’s eyes. “You exceeded them. My expectations, that is,” Kara added when Lena offered only a quizzical look in response.

For a moment, Lena didn’t react, then that same look from her office—the softness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, and the pleasantly confused crinkle between her brows—overtook her expression, and she let out a laugh.

“Well, good then.”

x

“You went to boarding school with Ms. Luthor?”

“I don’t think that’s public knowledge, how do you know that?”

“Um, Ms. Arias told me about you. She mentioned your relationship with Ms. Luthor is unique.”

“Well, Sam would know, wouldn’t she?”

“Ms. Rojas, if you don’t want to speak to me, you don’t have to.”

“It’s fine. Look, Lena and I have been estranged for a while now. I...I did something to break her trust.”

“So would you say that Ms. Luthor is difficult to get along with?”

“No, I’d say that Lena values things like honesty and trust, and—you know that Austen novel? With the man who says that once you lose his good opinion, it’s gone forever?”

“Pride and Prejudice?”

“Exactly. Lena is like that.”

“Ms. Luthor is like Mr. Darcy?”

“No, she’s classic. No matter what’s going on, she’ll endure.”

“So...you were the one difficult to get along with?”

“Have you ever thought about taking your work to a whole new level, Kara? How do you feel about virtual reality?”

“Oh, um, I don’t have particular thoughts? But I’d love to know yours about Ms. Luthor. For the film.”

“She won’t believe this, or that I’m saying it coercion free, but Lena is...a visionary. More than that, she’s just a decent person. Which is more than most of us can say, don’t you think?”

x

After their conversation, Lena opened up dramatically.

(Well, dramatically was a stretch, but considering how closed off she’d been before, the difference was rather drastic.)

Kara filmed Lena’s visit to an animal shelter, capturing the way her fingers gently ran over the fur of the dog that immediately trotted over to her, placing its head in her lap. Lena had then explained that she went to shelters often, just to volunteer, as she was unable to adopt for fear of not having time to give the dog the attention it deserved.

Later that week, Lena let Kara stay later than usual, putting on some music as she got to cooking, going as far as to teach Kara the basics of the dish, laughing when Kara admitted that her skill in the kitchen was limited to making sandwiches. At one point she grabbed the camera and set it aside, dragging Kara into the kitchen, giving instructions and lessons as she swayed her hips to the music.

(It was silly, it was lighthearted, it was fun, and Kara couldn’t help it.

She forgot she was there to make a film.)

And as the days and weeks dragged on, when Lena showed off her skills at the piano—apologetically explaining she hadn’t had time to really play in months—or when she told Kara about her very ‘nerdy’ stamp collection or even when Lena seemed to ignore there was a camera between them and she began to talk about her day and her hopes for the weekend, Kara forgot that it was a job. She forgot that she was supposed to be making something, paying attention to more than Lena’s smile or the way her eyes lit up whenever she mentioned work she was particularly passionate about.

Somewhere along the way, Kara cared more about the opportunity to spend time with Lena than she did the film itself.

More worryingly, that realization didn’t even bother her.

x

“Why filmmaking?” Lena asked one morning, pushing coffee and toast towards Kara with a tiny smile. The camera was still in its bag, untouched since Kara had arrived nearly an hour earlier. “Why not journalism like your cousin?”

“My cousin and I,” Kara began awkwardly, adjusting her glasses, “well, our relationship is a little strained, I guess.” She didn’t need the slight tilt of Lena’s head to know that Lena wanted her to keep going, to explain further. She let out a soft chuckle and rubbed her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “Um, so my parents died when I was twelve. And Clark sort of...left me? I went to live with the Danvers instead, and they bought me a camera for my birthday.” Kara grinned at the very memory, still able to feel its weight in her hand, the eyepiece against her eye. “It was one of those old camcorders, do you remember? The ones with the tapes? I drove them nuts, filming literally everything. I don’t think they ever saw my face for the first few months I was with them, it was constantly behind the camera.” She didn’t explain why she wanted to document every moment with her new family, but judging from the way Lena’s eyes softened, she understood anyway. “From there it became serious. I started making films. School projects, etc. Now I’m here.”

“Why documentaries? Why not something like...oh, I don’t know, action movies?” Lena prodded, looking curious, looking interested, looking like the answer mattered.

Kara just shrugged, suddenly not able to look Lena in the eye. “I guess there’s a part of me that wanted to take after Clark.”

x

“How long have you been working for Ms. Luthor?”

“Um, this December will make seven years.”

“As her assistant, you have remarkable access to her. What’s she like?”

“Driven, ambitious, works way too hard. I don’t think she’s ever taken a holiday or even a break...but um, maybe don’t say that in the film.”

“Artistic integrity, remember? She works hard, that’s clear. But what about personally? Her relationship with you and the other employees? What kind of boss is she?”

“She cares a lot. A few years ago, before Lex Luthor, well. You know. Before all that, LuthorCorp was facing serious losses. Mr. Luthor wanted to just get rid of entire departments, but Ms. Luthor said the research was vital, and more than that, the researchers were important. She convinced her brother to keep them on—she won’t admit it, but it was more than being persuasive. She paid for it out of her own pocket.”

“So you’d say she’s charitable?”

“No, she’s passionate. And she fights for the things she believes in. Ms. Luthor likes to say that charity implies pity, and she doesn’t do anything out of pity. She just does what’s right by people.”

“Some would disagree, they’d argue that LuthorCorp, and by extension its new iteration, L-Corp, don’t care about people, but about profits. Do you think that’s a fair assessment of the company you’ve devoted seven years to?”

“Look. I get it, people are suspicious of L-Corp because it used to be LuthorCorp. But it’s not just a name change. When Lena took over, she gutted her company. There’s not a single program left from Mr. Luthor’s time as CEO. L-Corp is all Ms. Luthor.”

“So if L-Corp is Ms. Luthor, who is Ms. Luthor?”

“She’s a woman who’s been hurt all her life, Kara Danvers, and whose only goal is to keep as many people as she can from hurting too. Sometimes I just wish she realized she doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore either.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I don’t care about your artistic integrity, that last bit does not go in the film.”

x  

One afternoon, when Kara was dangerously close to dozing off on the couch in Lena’s office—camera turned off and set aside, not really needing more footage of Lena working at her desk—Lena suddenly jumped to her feet, an excited gleam in her eyes.

“They’ve done it,” she said, the smile forming on her lips so wide that Kara found herself smiling back.

“Done what?” Kara asked, fairly sure this would lead to Lena’s refrain of ‘that’s company business and I’m afraid you’re not privy to that information’ but instead, Lena looked at her appraisingly, then rolled her eyes.

“If I allow you to bring your camera in R&D, do you swear not to film my ongoing projects?”

“You’re going to let me film in R&D?” Kara said excitedly, jumping to her feet and grabbing her camera.

“Kara, do you swear?”

“Yes, yes, of course, Ms. Luthor. I absolutely swear.”

And the next thing Kara knew, she was filming in the one place she’d been told was off-limits, capturing the lab and Lena talking to her researchers animatedly about the advancement they’d made in gene therapy, not entirely surprised when Lena shoved the scientists towards Kara and urged them to brag about their achievement—while also warning them to be as vague as possible—and then sank into the background, clearly thrilled to have her scientists as the center of attention.  

And later, when Lena decided to actually take a lunch hour as a ‘reward’ for the great strides L-Corp had made, she took Kara along, bought three different appetizers, and smiled her wide smile before she said, “It’s Lena, by the way. Just Lena.”

Mouth still bulging with the three potstickers she’d practically inhaled, Kara couldn’t manage much more than a nod, but later—when she was alone—she tried saying the name aloud, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

x

“Mrs. Luthor—”

“It’s doctor, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Dr. Luthor. You adopted Ms. Luthor when she was four, is that correct?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for this nonsense. I consented to this interview only to say one thing: Lena was always the more clever of my children, but she’s foolish and soft, and this silly film is yet another example of that.”

“You agreed to meet with me to just say...that. Okay. That’s um. Fine.”

x

As the weeks dragged on, Kara had little reason to continue filming. Her deadline with Cat Grant was fast approaching, and she had more than enough footage. All that really remained was editing, of putting the final pieces together. But she found herself filming anyway.

Every day, she’d make her way to Lena’s apartment, making flimsy excuses about how certain footage was no good, or had been corrupted, and that she needed retakes of Lena doing ordinary things (like reading the paper, cooking dinner, or talking about her day). She knew that Lena could tell her excuses were just that, but mercifully, Lena didn’t seem to want to call her out on it, merely gave soft reminders not to stay up so late every night to edit (the ‘you could just as easily stop wasting your time here and be editing during normal hours’ going unsaid).

(Jess had rolled her eyes when Kara came by L-Corp and Lena mentioned offhandedly that Kara somehow hadn’t gotten a shot of Lena entering her building in all the time she’d shadowed the CEO, and wasn’t that odd?)

But what Kara knew, what made her stretch out these moments as long as she possibly could, was that once the final product popped into existence, once she showed Lena and got her okay to send off to Cat Grant, that was it.

No more Lena.

And that terrified her.

(So she gathered more footage, fruitlessly hoping that the final product would never be ready, dragging her feet at every step.

She edited, studying Lena’s every expression, tried to pinpoint the exact moment she’d started to fall for the not-so-detached CEO extraordinaire, and wished it didn’t all have to come to an end.)

x

Two days after Kara had sent Lena the finished film, she got a curt email from the CEO herself with only three words: come see me.

Jess gave no indication about how her boss was feeling when Kara arrived, merely stared evenly at Kara and gestured with her head for her to just go on in. When Kara tried to ask her, Jess shook her head, pointed at the door to Lena’s office, and made a shooing gesture.

“It’s odd to see you without a camera,” Lena said when Kara sat down across from her, trying to keep her hands from fidgeting.

“It’s odd to be in here without a camera.” Kara took a deep breath. “Did you watch it?” she blurted, unable to keep it in. “What did you think?”

“You’re really fond of certain themes,” Lena said, then she raised her eyebrow. “You also filmed quite a bit when I had asked you not to.”

“Artistic integrity?” Kara tried, and Lena...laughed.

“I don’t know if I agree with the way you portrayed me,” she said slowly as her amusement faded. “You took a lot of liberties.”

“I was very faithful to the subject of the film, Lena.”

“What do you think you were trying to say?” Lena asked, waving off Kara’s comment.

“What meaning did you get from it?”

Lena studied her for a moment, as if she was trying to read Kara’s mind. “I’m not some selfless genius, Kara.”

“Is that what you think the film is saying?” Kara asked her, not rising to the obvious bait. “Like I said, Lena. I was very faithful to the subject of the film.” For a long moment, Lena didn’t respond, and Kara felt the worry she’d managed to push away since sending the film to Lena creep back in. “Does this mean you don’t approve of the film?”

“Hmm?” Lena said, distracted. “No, I’ve already sent it along to Cat Grant, giving my okay. Even though you broke our agreement, I can’t deny the final result was very favorable to me.”

“I wouldn’t have made something that wasn’t completely true,” Kara said, somewhat hotly, most of her irritation bleeding away with the knowledge that Cat Grant was in possession of the final product, that the rest was up to her.

Lena smiled, eyes soft, and she nodded her head almost incredulously. “No, you wouldn’t. I know that.” She cleared her throat, seeming a bit nervous. “But I was thinking. I’ve been missing our talks about your work, and I know you don’t like talking about what you’ve made, but perhaps you’d make an exception for me. Would you be willing to give me a private showing of your film? Give me all the insider secrets? I know your subject quite well, it would be a fun exercise.”

Kara’s heart slammed to a stop, the jump-started at the sight of Lena’s amused eyes, that tiny curve of her lips. “A private showing, huh?” Kara mumbled, feeling a little dazed. “I still won’t tell you what I was trying to say.”

“That’s completely fair.”

“But I suppose I could give you some insight on my thoughts.”

“Only if you wanted.”

“It may have to be more than one session,” Kara said, trying and failing to stop the spread of her smile. “There’s a lot of footage you know.”

“So it’s a date?” Lena asked, and Kara couldn’t help her eager nod.

“It’s definitely a date.”

[snarkwrites]

ssw | embry call ; let me take care of you.

NOTES:

As I said yesterday... I’m going to break down the list of prompts I originally intended to use for just one one-shot into a few different ones for this because I just felt like the first one flowed so well using only the one... This is the second part to the one shot I posted yesterday. And there will be at least a few more parts after this. I can’t say when they’ll be coming, but I can say they will be coming eventually.

Again, same as yesterday.. I am not a medical professional. Nor have I ever had amnesia of any kind. I’m trying my best with this, so apologies if it doesn’t seem realistic or whatever...If it matters/bothers anyone, that is.

Question though.. Would anyone be interested in at least one part of this being written in his point of view? Because I feel like it’d be interesting to write that way... It’d be third person..

PROMPTS:

Taken from [ here ] or [ here ]. The prompt used for inspiration here was obviously, Let me take care of you.

FANDOM / CHARACTER:

Twilight / Embry Call x Imprint!OFC, Merisa.

OTHER WORKS EMBRY & MERISA ARE FOUND IN:

[ he looks down. she looks up. ] 

WARNINGS:

amnesia tw, vague injuries mentioned tw, just gonna say her current soon to be ex boyfriend is an actual piece of garbage so.. yeah.. Sexual tension. Beyond all these, there’s not really anything else I can think of.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​  is the only one currently on my Twilight taglist. If you see this and you’d like to be tagged also, add yourself to the doc below or lmk. It’ll make me super happy.

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | request rules | sfw masterlist | tag list doc ]

The phone rang, shattering the silence and my train of thought. Okay, so it wasn’t a train of thought because I was more or less staring out the window of my grandmother’s living room and watching Embry Call work on my grandmother’s old car out in the driveway, but.. The phone was a distraction I didn’t want.

I grumbled when it didn’t go quiet. And after a few more seconds I’d had all I could take of the high pitched sound in all it’s annoying glory. I sprang up from the couch gingerly, grabbing up the remote to pause the true crime documentary I’d been engrossed in about Richard Ramirez and I hobbled into the kitchen, wincing every step of the way.

A scowl filled my face and I tensed up just as soon as I picked up and I heard Greg on the other end of the line. Upon hearing his voice, all sorts of unpleasant memories came rushing back. It was too much. 

“Merisa?”

“What, Greg?” I snapped. Impatient. Peering out my grandma’s living room window. Biting my bottom lip as I watched Embry tug the stained tank top he was wearing up over his head and wipe at sweat on his forehead with it before tossing it on the concrete slab next to his open toolbox.

“I asked you a question.” Greg cleared his throat expectantly.

Is it bad that I was so caught up in watching Embry do mechanic things outside that I didn’t even attempt to make an effort to listen to a damn word Greg said? Because this is exactly what happened.

“I wasn’t listening.”

Greg gave an annoyed huff at my honest answer and I rolled my eyes. Grumbling. The crackle of static over the phone line breaking through for a second or two. Whether I asked for him to repeat himself or not didn’t matter at all because Greg went on and asked his question again anyway.

“I said don’t you think you should be planning to return to Seattle soon? You were only supposed to be gone for a few days. It’s been nearly four weeks.” Greg stated. Pausing for a minute to grumble to himself about how this was typical of me, telling him one thing and then doing something entirely different.

And I snapped.

“Does the fact that I nearly died three and a half weeks ago just not mean anything to you at all or..?” I snarled, going quiet for a second or two. Determined to stay calm. But exploding felt so damn satisfying. It was hard to resist. I got the feeling that I spent 90 percent of my time around Greg biting my tongue and that had me wondering why. What did this guy have that kept me with him? The more I wondered about it, the harder it was to come up with any real sort of answer.

“Sorry. I should know better than to ask questions I already know the answer to.” I apologized. In my own petty way, of course.

Greg took my apology as sincerity and he sighed. Disappointed, obviously because I wasn’t there to tend to his every stupid whim. “I’m sorry too, it’s just.. I told you we had plans. You know how important this weekend is to me and the fact that you’re not even trying to come back… I’m just disappointed, sweetheart. That’s all.”

,, well excuse the fuck out of me for grieving. excuse me for loving my mother enough to want to go to her funeral. Excuse me for nearly dying and needing to heal and getting in the way of your precious plans,asshole.” I wanted to say it so badly that I had to bite the insides of my cheeks and ball my hands into fists just to keep it in. I sighed. “Instead of making this harder than it has to be, you could actually be a caring boyfriend and come to make sure I’m okay… I mean.. I am dealing with memory loss and injuries...”

Surprise, surprise. He suddenly had a thousand excuses as to why he couldn’t -and wouldn’t, just do that. And my stomach churned. Did he even give a shit? Why was I still wasting my time? Why had I even bothered answering the phone in the first place this time?

I made up my mind right then. As soon as I got off the phone with him, I was going to block him on all socials. I was going to block his number on my cell phone. And if I saw his name on my grandmother’s caller ID when the phone rang, I was just going to walk out of the room.

“I’ve gotta go.” I muttered. Before Greg could say anything else,  I hung up the phone angrily. Slamming it down on it’s cradle.

From the doorway, Embry cleared his throat and stepped into the living room. “Trouble in paradise?”

“If that’s what paradise is I’d hate to imagine hell.” I flopped back on the couch dramatically. Wincing when yes, it still hurts to move certain ways. Or too much at once. 

Embry sat down in my grandmother’s recliner. Staring intently at the television which was paused on the clubhouse scene from Dirty Dancing.

I grabbed my cell phone from the end table and did exactly what I made up my mind to do. Blocking Greg on every single one of my socials. And out of pettiness, I changed my relationship status on Instagram to single.

He’d never even bothered to change his, if memory serves. Why had I changed mine?

There was still so much I had left to fill in as far as my memory gaps, but it was coming back in leaps and bounds. Something told me that the last thing I needed to have done was return to Seattle. Otherwise, I might not have ever remembered or  even realized to begin with, what kind of man I was involved with because I’m pretty sure that Greg wouldn’t have started to really show his true self.

He’d done a pretty fair job of hiding just how controlling and easily irritated by the slightest inconvenience he really was so far, I mean, I hadn’t dropped his ass.

I smirked in satisfaction as I put down my phone. 

I happened to glance over at Embry to find him staring at me. Like he wanted to say something or he was lost in thought. Before I could help myself, I was staring right back. Getting pulled into the depths of his eyes. Eventually dropping my gaze down. Lingering on his mouth when he licked his lips.

I couldn’t stop staring. This was starting to become habit whenever he was around. Especially if he wasn’t paying attention so I knew I could stare to my hearts content and get away with it.

I stood and cleared my throat. “I’m gonna go get myself some lemonade. Do you want anything?” I asked as I walked over to the doorway leading into the kitchen.

“If there are any more bottled waters?” Embry asked hopefully. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. And as soon as I was in the kitchen, I leaned against the fridge. Fanning myself with one of my grandmother’s magazines that happened to be sitting on the counter.

After I managed to pull myself together just a little bit, I grabbed a bottled water for Embry and I poured myself a glass of lemonade. And when I turned to walk back into the living room, I found myself body to body with Embry as he stepped into the doorway between the two rooms.

My thighs clenched just a little at the way it felt to be pressed against him. Hard muscles against my own softness. For a second, when I opened my mouth to tell him I’d gotten his water like he asked for, the words hung in my throat.

Finally, I managed to get it out. “Your water, sir.” I held out the water bottle to him and after holding it against the back of his neck for a few seconds, he uncapped it, practically swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp.

Eyes locked on me the entire time. I know this because I’ll be damned if I could stop staring at him either. I tried. And failed.

He cleared his throat.

“Oh, right.. You probably wanted to wash your hands…” I stepped out of the doorway, pouting to myself a little because the second physical contact was broken, I missed the feel of his body against mine.

He walked over to the sink. Turning it on. Washing his hands. And I happened to notice he had a few busted knuckles.

“You need those sanitized. C’mere.” I nodded to the stool on the other side of the counter. Embry shrugged. Muttered that it wasn’t a big deal.

“It’s called infection setting in. And it can happen.” I insisted, nodding to the stool again. When he shook his head and took another sip of water and calmly insisted that he was fine, I shook my head and hobbled over. Grabbing hold of the hand that wasn’t injured. Leading him to the stool. “Sit.”

“Okay, alright. You know, you’re a lot bossier than I remember.” Embry muttered, gazing down at me. Even sitting down he was still taller. Bigger.

I stuck out my tongue at him. “If it keeps you from getting a nasty infection in your hand, I’ll take it.” I muttered. My gaze settling on him. Instantly getting sucked right back into those deep brown eyes and lost.

After a second or two of both of us staring at each other yet again, I cleared my throat. “I should go find the first aid kit.”

“It’s under the sink.” Embry answered quietly. I bit my lip. Nodding as I muttered mostly to myself, “Under the sink.” and turned away to get it.

“You don’t have to do this. I’m telling you, it’s fine. I deal with this all the time. Kind of happens when you work at a garage, Merisa…” Embry trailed off as I glanced back at him and stated in a firmer tone, “Let me take care of you, okay?”

I grabbed the bottle of peroxide and a rag. Sitting on the stool adjacent to his. Grabbing hold of his hand and placing it in my lap.

“You have tiny hands.” Embry muttered, almost sounding dazed. I glanced up at him through a curtain of hair as it fell right into my face because I bent my head just a little to see his hand better. I swallowed hard. Trying not to think of how good it felt to have his hand in mine. Or on my body.

When I exhaled, it was shaky.

That had me raising a brow.

If this man had one tenth of a clue just what he stirred up in me, I swear to God…

He jumped as the peroxide made contact with the open wounds, bubbling and fizzing as it cleaned the wounds out. 

A memory came back to me… I was younger. Probably around five. My grandmother sat on the stool Embry currently sat on and I sat on the stool I was currently sitting on. My leg was in her lap and she was dabbing some red liquid on it that burned like the fire of ten thousand hells. I was crying and trying to jerk my leg away, but my grandma just held onto it. And when she finished, she leaned in… Blowing gently on my injured knee. 

As the bubbling started to slow down, I raised Embry’s hand, leaning down. Blowing on the knuckles a little. Glancing up at him and teasing playfully, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I’ve felt worse.” he finally mumbled after we’d been locked in a quiet staredown for what felt like minutes instead of seconds. 

It sank in that I was still holding onto his hand. And he wasn’t making an effort to pull his hand away, either.

My grandmother cleared her throat from the doorway and smirked at the two of us playfully as she came in, sitting groceries on the counter. “Am I interrupting something, Merisa?”

“No, not at all.” I answered. Smiling. Letting go of Embry’s hand as my cheeks burned. I felt like a teenager just walked in on by her parents.

Embry slid off the stool and brushed his hands over his jeans. “I need to get back to it.” he muttered. Hurrying out of the house. As soon as the screen door banged shut behind him, I let out a ragged breath. Fanning myself with the magazine again.

Trying to ignore the look I was getting from my grandmother.

When she couldn’t resist any longer, she spoke up. “He’s single.. If you’re wondering.”

“Grandma!” I laughed out, shaking my head. My gaze lingering on the window. Fixed on him.

My grandmother spoke up again. “It’s been so nice having you here, Mermaid… It’ll be a shame to see you go.”

Before I really stopped to think about it, I replied “ Honestly? I’m tempted to stay.”

My grandmother pulled me into a tight hug. Smiling at me as the hug broke. “I won’t stop you. The decision is yours.”

I nodded. Waiting until she was in the other room with one of her soap operas going full blast before I wandered back over to the window that faced where Embry currently was outside. Staring out at him with my fingertips pressed against the glass.

I thought he’d caught me one time because he stopped what he was doing beneath the hood of the car to glance around the yard. I moved away from the window quickly, shaking my head and laughing at myself about it.

I’ll repeat. If Embry Call had one tenth of a clue the effect he had on me...

[demigirl-glameow]

STUFF TO DO DURING QUARANTINE AND LOCKDOWN

READ READ READ AND READ, novels you’ve been procrastinating on for months or years, it’s their time to shine. Novels, fanfictions, poetry, biographies, books of self development

Go re-read your favorite book, your favorite fanfic, re-read your favorite poem, don’t feel guilty about going to your comfort readings when there are new ones waiting to be read.

THOSE MOVIES AND SHOWS ON YOUR WAITING LIST on Netflix, Prime, Hulu, Youtube …. You wanted to watch them but had something better to do ? You didn’t have time ? It’s also their time to shine, go watch that documentary you’ve been meaning to watch for months, I have some on my waiting list for 2 years now, it’s time. 

Go rewatch your favorite movie, yes you can watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the 12th time, you don’t have to feel bad. I’ve watch my comfort movie twice already. 

COLORING BOOKS AND PAGES I’ve done a few of those since quarantine started, it doesn’t demand too much energy or focus, but does the trick of keeping your mind on the task and time will pass without even noticing.

JOURNALING, while i know not everyone has the craft to do all the journaling they wish they could do, you can start with what you have laying around your place : paper (doesn’t even have to be a notebook for now), glue, newspapers, scissors, a bit of creativity can go a long way. 

WRITE, whether it’s : - an original story with OCs to work on - a fanfiction with a universe to make your own - your thoughts - a letter to someone you love - keep a diary to keep tracks of what’s happening right now (you’re afraid because of the epidemic ? write it down. you’re worried ? write it down. you saw a funny video on twitter ? write it down. you saw something heartwarming ? you want to keep track of the international situation ?  you want to take your mind out of the current situation ? keep a diary (whether paper or on the notesapp or on your computer - i’m using google docs myself)

PLAY VIDEO GAMES, I know that Animal Crossing is the latest hot stop, you can play Animal Crossing, you can play tons of free online games, start your favorite Assassin’s Creed from the beginning, play that video game you’ve been postponing for months because it wasn’t the right time. 

LISTEN TO MUSIC, there are albums and EPs i’ve been meaning to listen to for a long time but still haven’t found the time to do so. 

DRAW, it doesn’t have to be perfect and it most likely will not be, but doodle stuff, make it simple.

WRITE ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE THINGS, make it in the form of an article, you’re an online journalist and your subject just happens to be your favorite book, or your favorite movie, that song you love so much. Write it in the form of an analysis, an essay, your professor assigned you to do, what about your favorite song makes it so special to you, is it the rasp in their voice ? the way those lyrics rhymes ?

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF make it a treat yourself day, deep condition your hair, shave those body part you’ve been meaning to shave for a while, do a manicure, put some pretty nail polish, make yourself a drink you like, lather yourself in some nice moisturizer, do a face mask.

DO SOME EXERCISE there are now a lot of videos about exercises you can do at home without any equipments no matter if you’re a newbie or a very athletic person

FACETIME SOMEONE YOU LOVE, a friend, a family member, your partner, take a specific moment in the week/day to facetime someone you love to talk or to do something together, have an exercise session together…

HELP YOUR COMMUNITY, do sure you’re safe before considering doing this, I do not encourage you to endanger yourself or others !!!!!! you can make sure your neighbors are safe, that they have groceries at their house, sometimes seeing someone cares about you, even just by asking how you’re doing can make a huge difference, especially when you’re being isolated.you can also help your online community, check on your friends, mutuals you haven’t spoken to in a while etc

DONATE, lots of us, stuck at home, have been saving money because we are spending less, no take-outs, no shopping spree etc, while I’m fortunate enough to still have a paycheck during quarantine, it is not the case for some of us, consider helping those in need, especially homeless people, consider donations to hospitals and medical staff, they are in dire need of supplies and fundings.

[cannibalcaterpillar]

This means Carole had 9 years to get to know her sibling. Instead of bonding with him she had imaginary cat friends. Not HUMAN friends CAT friends. That isn’t bad on its own, but it matters when it’s on a list like this.

Had no friends.

Has gone through 4 husbands and this one clearly KNOWS he’ll die if he doesn’t worship her.

She only mentions having a kid like twice in passing .

She was the aggressor in her past relationships seeking financial control with homicidal tendencies.

Says she left cause her parents are trash but in the end her dad was “def on her side”??

She lies CONSTANTLY

THE MAILBOX SNAKES‼️‼️ joe threatened to do this on his show, but it was YEARS before he mentioned “finally finding where that bitch lives” she doesn’t say that the snakes were venomous just that “the mailbox exploded with snakes” I think she lied about that all together to make joe seem crazier. Like how joe poisoned 23 cubs and burned 7 gators alive and blamed it on Carole or animal rights people. They do crazy shit and lie and say their enemies did it.

She mentions how she envies cats range because they can go from to content to murderous in a second. Most people are like that. But carol has to emulate her emotions so she’s jealous it’s not that natural to her.

I don’t believe her story about how she met don at all. Carole doc and joe all lie CONSTANTLY. Even just in skewed wording like how joe and doc always say “this liger was born right here” instead of “I bred this cat cause I’m still breeding and selling cats” doc says he’s single and his wives all have their own houses cause he’d get arrested for bigamy if he pulled a Kody from sister wives. Constant lies! Carole is no different.

THE FUCKING SARDINE OIL????

The scene where her and her husband are discussing sleeping with guns he says “I woke up and saw Carole with a gun and it ended up being 2” and she cuts him off quick to say “DAMN NEAR SHOT THE NEIGHBORS DOGS” *nervous laugh* I don’t think they were dogs.

Her next line is “I don’t worry about the DOGS that bark a lot, I worry about the quiet ones, those are the PEOPLE you have to watch out for” this could be a metaphor for joe, or she could have shot two people that night. I dunno the wording there just is not right and Irks me.

She needs her volunteers to be there for like 5 years before she even notices they’re there. People that are there working with her animals every day. She doesn’t interact with people. Even her staff.

She said no one can get near Mario right before the documentary does. Maybe SHE can’t get near him and knows because she’s tired to use him for hits before? He made it clear he thinks she did it and she’s trash. Probably because Mario is the only one who at least appears to love and respect his animals. Carole is letting hers rot. Literally.

I totally believe there could be shit behind the scenes of her and joe exotic trading or selling each other cubs. Everyone in this has shown to be two faced self absorbed and willing to work with their enemies one week and destroy them the next. I bet doc wasn’t the only receipt they had in that storage shed. Do you think the lions mentioned in that clip are the ones he got raided for in 2019? Him and joe talk lots about how they have the only ligers and the whole issue was that the ligers were thought to be related and the tests proved they were, but more distantly than previously thought so doc got away.

Something about joe pointing out how much money they made off of each other and labeling them like cartoon characters really made me feel like it’s been YouTube drama this whole time.

I’m sure she worked with Jeff more than she lets on. I don’t understand how the cops didn’t see that after 10 years of threatening and hating carol, nothing serious happened to plan a murder UNTIL Jeff got involved. He deserves to be jailed for a lot but not the attempted murder of an actual murder.

Carole is soft spoken to appear harmless and her constant laughing is because she’s nervous. There’s a big difference between her doing her own videos and being interviewed. It’s because she isn’t in control of how that footage is filmed and edited or what she looks like at the end.

I just really feel like she’s antisocial. She gives me HEAVY Kathrine Knight vibes. If ya dunno her look her up, one of the WORST bitches ever. But she’s got a real familiar thing goin on. Kathrine also killed her husband and he also tried to warn everyone and seek protection before she did it. No one took him seriously until he didn’t show up for work one day.

Carole got away with murder.

Edit: I just wanted to add that I’ve been looking up so much shit abojt this case and Carole. Shes described her first interaction with don and the gun as enticing because “well this isn’t boring!” And she wanted to be a vet but feared the boredom that came with being an adult with a house and career. Constantly looking for a thrill so you aren’t bored to the degree of putting yourself in dangerous situations (handling big cats or holding a gun on a stranger or killing your fucking husband) is also very indicative of an antisocial personality.

Edit 2: I just found out Carole learned to fly to keep them safe since don was “losing it” so that makes pushing him out of a plane seem a lot more likely. If I can find a screen shot of her saying that I’ll add it too. But I think it’s interesting no one close to him says that he’s EVER crashed or that anyone was worried about his ability to fly. More lies!

ANOTHER ADDITION!! Caroles father was also a pilot and a flight instructor. That throwing him out of a plane theory is starting to seem real logical.

Caroles mother notorizes all of her insane paperwork, her brother was in the police force that let her get away with it, the sheriff has a really nice house almost like he was paid off and her dad can fly planes and is on her side.

[rosesloveletters]

As we approach the anniversary of Heath Ledger’s passing, I would like to use my platform to discuss a few things I find increasingly important that we, as fans, keep in mind: Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT harass his family, friends, etc. (don’t ever do this, but especially not this week or the day of.) Do NOT use his death to signify your online presence. Those of us who appreciate this hard-working, loving, giving soul deserve the freedom of expression granted to us, given that we remain within the bounds of positivity, consideration for others and for Heath Ledger himself. 

(image: Heath photographed for The West Australian on June 9th, 2001.)

I implore you to treat everyone with respect and to honor Heath in a way in which you would honor a loved one; be kind, courteous, respectful and tactful whenever you are discussing his passing and remain conscious of others and their feelings regarding this subject. It is a subject of sensitivity for many and I ask that you consider how others might feel when approached with the topic. Do NOT pass around photos of him that the paparazzi took on that fateful day. This is a blatant disregard for Heath and his privacy; He was unable to consent to having those photos taken, for obvious reasons, and I am certain that he would not have consented, given his distaste for the paparazzi and having felt as though his life was ‘on display’. 

Remember to treat him and others with respect. It is the bare minimum of common courtesy when dealing with such a raw topic; Heath would be honored by how most choose to remember him and I think that he would be humbled by the legacy he’s left behind.

On another, more important note, we must to remember a few things regarding the late Heath Ledger: 

He did not die because of his role as The Joker in ‘The Dark Knight’. 

He did NOT die of a suicide. 

Heath was struggling with insomnia, illness, his break-up with Michelle and (presumably) depression (though I don’t believe that was ever officially confirmed) at the time of his passing and we must remember how sensitive a subject this is, for his family, loved ones, friends and fans alike. 

For more factual information on his passing, I recommend visiting these links provided: 

Friends and Family Remember His Final Weeks 

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

“Gerry Grennell, Ledger’s friend and dialect coach who lived and worked with the star while he was shooting The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus in the final weeks of his life, spoke with PEOPLE in 2017 for a cover story on Ledger, nine years after the actor’s death. He recalled his friend being “exhausted, emotionally and physically” while battling a lingering pneumonia-type illness.”

“Grennell said the star’s mood was low. “He missed his girl, he missed his family, he missed his little girl — he desperately wanted to see her and hold her and play with her,” he added, referring to Ledger’s former girlfriend Michelle Williams and their then-2-year-old daughter, Matilda. “He was desperately unhappy, desperately sad.””

But in his final weeks, Grennell said Ledger knew he was spiraling. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from taking the pills. “He said, ‘I got to stop, it’s not helping, I’m not well, it’s making me feel more upset,’” Grennell continued. “It wasn’t helping with the relationship issues, it wasn’t helping with missing his kid, it wasn’t helping his sleeping — and he knew that.”

“Being such a social guy, having to be a bit of a hermit, or wear hats and glasses was super annoying,” he added, describing the lengths to which Ledger went to avoid the paparazzi. “His happiest I remember was times like when we were in Bondi on the beach catching waves, and nobody really looking his way, and when he moved to Brooklyn and could walk around with nobody bothering him.”

Heath Ledger’s Father Kim Speaks of Son’s Death - Trigger Warning: Kim Ledger mentions seeing EMS removing Heath’s body from his home in new York. This video and its message is EXTREMELY important; if you choose to view no other material listed here, please watch this short interview. 

Statements Made by Heath Ledger’s Sisters

Heath Ledger’s Sisters Clear Up Rumors About His Death In New Documentary

Some important quotes from this article to take into consideration: 

Though the doc doesn't elaborate on the "demons" that plagued Ledger's final days, it does change the narrative about his mental state at that time. According to the actor's family, Ledger's role in The Dark Knight didn't depress him, as so many tabloids had reported. It energized him."It was coming out that he was depressed and it was taking a toll, and we were going, 'What?'" Bell said. "It was the absolute opposite," Kate Ledger added. "He had an amazing sense of humor, and I guess only his close family and friends really knew that. But he was having fun. He wasn’t depressed about The Joker."

That's about as far as the film delves into Ledger's death. Instead, I Am Heath Ledger chooses to focus on his life. It may not be a complete picture of the actor, but after nearly a decade of rampant rumors and tabloid gossip, it's nice to see Heath through his own lens.

Speculation into Heath’s passing has been vast, leaving much to the media to exaggerate and perpetuate; there is very little evidence or proof that lends to the fact that Heath was an ‘addict’ as has been portrayed, however this statement can be found on his Wikipedia page: 

“Ledger was "widely reported to have struggled with substance abuse.” Following Ledger's death, Entertainment Tonight aired video footage from 2006 in which Ledger stated that he "'used to smoke five joints a day for 20 years” and news outlets reported that his drug abuse had prompted Williams to request that he move out of their apartment in Brooklyn. Ledger's publicist asserted that some reportage regarding Ledger and drugs had been inaccurate.”

When discussing his death, please keep in mind that a large portion about his personal life has been over-exaggerated and therefore, research is key.

Heath’s private life is not something we should pry into and we should be respectful of the fact that we simply do not have the information to conclusively determine certain theories. It is among human nature to ask questions and want answers, but it is our responsibility to know what is appropriate and how we should go about researching such a topic. 

Do not pry into Heath’s private life; be mindful of the information you choose to share and treat him as you would treat any other person. Just because he is a “celebrity” does NOT mean that every detail of his life should be public access. Treat him how you would want to be treated; you are not entitled to his private life, nor is anyone other than those he was closest to. 

We have countless interviews and testimonies to his character from family and friends, those of which prove to be the most accurate. 

Check out this video: Famous People Talking About Heath Ledger to hear some of these positive testaments to his character.

Drug abuse is a very serious matter; I do not condone Heath’s decision to abuse prescription drugs, nor should any fan; his death provides a testament to the dangers of prescription pills and we should remember to be mindful of their effect. Prescription drug abuse is a serious matter and we should not overlook the seriousness of it.

If you or someone you know is suffering from Opioid drug abuse, visit the link provided for the CDC’s help and resources

Please remain respectful while researching his passing and use discretion. Information perpetuated by the media has proved time and time again to be harmful to those in the limelight and Heath was a victim of that as well. Respect the fact that we do not know of his private life and accept that we do not have the right to know. There is a large amount of information present, providing speculation into this subject and I advise you to research with caution, as some of it is damaging to Heath’s character. 

Most importantly, use this time to remember Heath for the incredibly gifted and talented soul that he was. As fans, it is important not only to understand his passing, but to keep his legacy alive through the ways in which we choose to honor and remember him. 

Heath Ledger’s death was a tragedy. His family and friends still grieve his passing and his daughter, Matilda, is without a father due to his premature death. Please be respectful and courteous of this and honor Heath in a way in which he would be proud of. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post. With much controversy surrounding Ledger’s death, I felt it necessary to speak out on a couple of things, especially with the anniversary of his death coming up. Please feel free to add onto this post any way you would like, especially if you find more information that is factual and important to share within the community.

 I will reiterate: BE RESPECTFUL. BE COURTEOUS. BE KIND. Do NOT harass his family and friends. Do NOT mock his death. Do NOT share offensive/upsetting images or media that is damaging to his character, now or ever. Respect others who choose to use this time simply to remember this wonderful man for all that he was and do not discuss his passing with anyone who might be triggered by the mentioning of it. 

This community is a loving, caring and amazing place where we choose to remember Heath in our own ways and keep his memory alive through the creations and art we all share. Build each other up and listen to one another; treat each other as if you are looking at Heath directly and show the world the same kindness he showed while he was among us. 

Thank you. 

[r6shippingdelivery]

headcannons for hobbies? Like what they do on their off time?

Hi nonnie! I actually did a Hobbies HC for “all” ops a long time ago. But seeing that was before the expanded bios, and it only reached up to Gridlock and Mozzie, I’d say it’s time for an updated version, don’t you say? 

Some of the answers are unchanged from the old post, because I already nailed it or the new info didn’t disprove my ideas. But I had to revise a lot of the answers I gave the first time around! In order to find their hobbies and/or get a glimpse of their lives beyond Rainbow and what they might like, I read all the bios, and looked up concept art, and elites, and past battlepass content, etc. And when none of that was enough, I just went with my gut instinct 😂 Thank you to @grain-crain-drain, @dagoth-menthol & @todragonsart for bouncing ideas with me when I was stuck! 💕

Hobbies Headcanons for ALL ops (up to Neon Dawn)

FBI

- Ash: According to her savta, shooting things is not a hobby, but Ash disagrees. And since according to her expanded bio she knows Hebrew, Arabic, English, French and Greek, I’m willing to bet she enjoys learning languages as well. - Thermite: He grew up on a ranch and loves riding. He’s also taken an interest in improving gadgets it seems, so my old proposal that he dabbles in forging/smithing stuff seems plausible. And based on this concept art, demolition derbies attending and maybe even competing himself too? - Pulse: He’s interested in a variety of topics and goes through phases of intense, nearly obsessive focus, until something else captures his attention. He still has a lingering fondness for building muscle cars, since it was something he used to do with his father. And like Thermite and Hibana, it seems he might enjoy demolition derbies. - Castle: He’s a language nerd, studying/reading/practicing new languages is his hobby for sure. Since the expanded bio says he rescues abused dogs, I don’t think it would be far fetched he volunteered at animal shelters too.

SAS

- Thatcher: Aside from repairing his boat, The Iron Maggie, he also enjoys fishing. He used to do that with his dad & brothers, and tried to take the rest of the SAS fishing as a bonding experience. It didn’t go very well - Sledge: He plays rugby, and has an inexplicable fondness of trying the wildest ideas that tend to end with something broken, be it one of his bones or a structure or wall (just read his extended psychological profile and you’ll see, lmao) - Smoke: Boxing, it helps him focus all his chaotic energy. And chemistry in general, it’s not just a hobby but a passion of his. - Mute: he enjoys tinkering with stuff, taking it apart and then putting it back together in a different way, just to see if he can improve it or make it work in his own way. Flying drones plays perfectly into that, with the added bonus of being able to do the flying part just for fun too.

GIGN

- Montagne: His main passion is working with people, teaching and mentoring others, and therefore when he’s not on duty, his main passtime still is mingling with people and getting to know them. I could see him making overtures with Castle, interested in the American and fascinated by his knowledge of various languages, an area Monty feels insecure about due to only knowing French and English.  - Twitch: Engineering, robotics and developing an empathic AI is her life.Twitch is a workaholic passionate about those topics. She also greatly enjoys traveling and, according to her expanded bio, people watching.  - Doc: He surely had some hobby at one point, but he can’t remember it, or the last time he had free time for it. Doc is also a workaholic, although one that loves to complain about it.  - Rook: Apparently he’s passionate about cycling, auto racing, and rock concerts. Mainly cycling though, since he dropped out of university to cycle around France.

Spetsnaz

- Tachanka: He collects and repairs old weapons. Mostly soviet, but he has some interesting pieces from other countries too. And he dances surprisingly well.  - Kapkan: Aside from a certain interest in psychology, his main hobby is hunting, of course. But he also whittles and carves wooden figurines.  - Glaz: Quite obviously, painting. He’s an artist, and quite a good one. He also likes playing cards, especially poker. - Fuze: He builds new weapon prototypes for fun. And tests them, if he can convince Six of it. He also likes to bake from time to time, a skill he learnt thanks to his grandma - and because he has a sweet tooth.

GSG9

- Jäger: Planes. Model planes, repairing old WWI & II planes, you name it. And watching copious amounts of documentaries.  - Bandit: His bike is his main hobby, both taking care of it and riding it. He also likes playing pool; and, if pranking people counts as a hobby, that’s his oldest one, dating from when he was a kid. - Blitz: He was and still is an athlete at heart, and Blitz loves running. - IQ: In order to disconnect from engineering pursuits, she indulges in rock climbing, spelunking, and writing science fiction stories.

JTF2

- Buck: He crafts mechanical puzzles, and enjoys all kinds of physical activity that can take place outdoors. - Frost: She just loves being surrounded by nature, and often goes mountain climbing or diving.

SEAL

- Valkyrie: Swimming and diving, of course! She wanted to be a professional swimmer, but now it’s just a hobby. And apparently she enrolled for a helicopter pilot license, and language classes. - Blackbeard: According to the expanded bios, he likes sailing and even participated in a championship. And since he climbed Mount Everest, it’s safe to say he also likes mountain climbing.

BOPE

- Capitao: He loves football, playing or watching it, doesn’t matter, he’s all for it. - Caveira: Spends a lot of time practicing Jiu Jitsu, in the gym and also on unofficial tournaments.

SAT

- Hibana: For her it’s traditional Japanese archery (Kyūdō). And probably demolition derbies too accounting that concept art from before with Thermite and Pulse. - Echo: According to the expanded bio, he has few interests outside work, but I always imagined he’d be into gaming and e-sports. Hacking too, and that’s a direct influence from Dokkaebi.

GEO

- Jackal: He plays the acoustic guitar/spanish guitar, and sings too. And now we also know he volunteers with at-risk youth. - Mira: Fixing cars is second nature to her, and thanks to her expanded bio we know she also does metal sculptures that incorporate used mechanical parts.

SDU

- Ying: Extreme driving, which can sometimes trigger her PTSD, and traveling. Especially exploring cities by randomly jumping in public transport and just going anywhere. - Lesion: He is also one to volunteer in underprivileged areas (like Junk Bay, where he grew up), and clearing mines and other unexploded devices. I also imagine him with a certain gusto for playing blackjack.

GROM

- Zofia: If obsessing about her father’s supposed suicide and the oddities surrounding it, and desperately trying to reconnect with her sister count as hobbies, sure, she has those. - Ela: She’s also an artist, one with a very particular vision that some have called narcissistic. Apparently she also does some “freelance” volunteer work, roaming the streets at night and offering help/comfort, or a willing ear to the people she meets.

707SMB

- Vigil: He likes to take walks around the forest, just aimless exploring and marvelling at nature and any animals he might come across. Often listens to relaxing music while doing so, and he might pick a pretty rock here and there to bring home. - Dokkaebi: Hacking is her hobby, of course. She also has several social media profiles and is an active member in a couple of hacking forums. As per a previous battlepass, I believe she enjoys mountain trekking too. And dancing to electro beat, due to her elite.

CBRN

- Lion: His rebel years left him with an appreciation for rock music and a dream to be in a group. Lion still plays the electric guitar, when he’s not off volunteering at the local church. - Finka: Pushed by her parents from a young age to try different sports, just like her siblings, she eventually discovered a strong love for fencing and ice-skating.

GIS

- Maestro: Cooking, and boxing, an interest he shares with Smoke. But mostly cooking. - Alibi: She’s also a marksman, engages Ash in friendly shooting competitions.

GSUTR

- Clash: She’s very involved in different activist causes, mostly surrounding racial issues and inequality. - Maverick: Photography, mostly nature or candid shots of his fellow operators. I also think he likes horses and riding. And Buzkashi of course, but he hasn’t played since he left Kabul.

GIGR

- Kaid: Playing chess, he’s a good strategist and it shows. And  while dozing off with a cat on his lap is not a hobby, he also loves that. - Nomad: Traveling to all sorts of remote locations, she’s an explorer with a thirst to prove herself. She also keeps a travel journal, which includes maps and some drawings of the places she’s seen.

SASR

- Mozzie: Dirt biking, of course. The more dangerous the jumps and stunts are, the more he likes it. He knows his limits and works to surpass them. - Gridlock: Robotics. She still wants to compete again in robot championships, just like she and Mozzie did so many years ago. She would consider that fixing cars and vehicles has become more part of her job than a hobby, but still loves it too.

Phantom Sight

- Nokk: Fencing, as evidenced by some of her concept art, she participated in fencing tournaments. - Warden: He knows appearances are important, and he cultivated a very specific image, so he likes to take care of that, be it by buying luxury or antique cars, or designer suits, etc.

Ember Rise

- Amaru: Archeology and exploring the Amazon jungle is her passion. It used to be her whole life and job, but since she joined Rainbow, she’s been busy with training and missions, yet she never lost her love for adventure, history and protecting her country’s cultural artifacts. - Goyo: He’s a really good chess player, and enjoys other games where he either has to think, or his usual poker face and calm demeanor can throw his opponents off.

Shifting Tides

- Kali: When she’s not writing reports about her underlings progress, or making lists about who should be ascended/rewarded, who needs to be punished or chastised, etc, she’ll be doing yoga, since it helps her focus. Or hardcore pilates when she needs to burn away some frustration first. - Wamai: Diving and being underwater in general, be it on his special immersion tanks or on the actual sea, it doesn’t matter. He finds it calming (and he’s addicted to the anoxia sensation)

Void Edge

- Iana: Space exploration fascinates her, and she’s always trying to learn everything she can about the cosmos, watching documentaries and conducting her own in-depth research. - Oryx: Wrestling helps him hone his physical prowess, and it’s also a measured outlet for his deep seated rage. He also greatly enjoys reading poetry.

Steel Wave

- Melusi: She’s committed to the conservation cause, which stems from both her love of wildlife and nature, and her protective instincts. She likes to explore too, although she’s not driven by a will to prove herself or reach certain goals, but simply for the joy of seeing natural spaces. - Ace: Social Media. He’s obsessed with his public image and popularity. While he travels quite a bit, it seems he does it more to share new and exciting selfies on Instagram than for the pleasure of visiting new places.

Shadow Legacy

- Zero: He knits and crochets, it’s an engaging hobby that helps him clear his mind, plus he enjoys making stuff too. Not many people know about this side of him though. 

Neon Dawn

- Aruni: She and Hero, her giant pouched rat, volunteer on landmine detection and removal efforts. She also likes to travel extensively, and has done so in the company of Twitch and Nomad.

[blau-s]

11, 12 and 22 for the writers ask, please!🐹

Hey! Sorry it took me a couple of days to reply, but I was in post DP depression hell and it took me a while to describe my thought process, but here we are. Thanks for asking, it was fun!

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

Oh boy, okay. I have to add the disclaimer that this is what works for me, but there are no set guidelines or rules to follow when it comes to writing. And I'm sure that there are more efficient ways to get these stories out of your chest, but here we are.

Also, I'm going to assume that you are familiar with my work because I use them as an example to explain the process.

1) An idea strikes. It usually happens at the most inconvenient times, mainly when I'm trying to sleep or focus on something else.

2)I let the idea marinate (it doesn't let me sleep again). I feel like there are people out there that go for it immediately, but I have to be sure that the story has the potential to go somewhere. I've read plenty of times that it's better if you just write them, but I prefer to have a plan.

3) I write an outline. I try to focus on the main points of the story and how I want the characters to get there. Then, I see if I need to research (that's always a yes). Here is when I estimate how many words is going to take me. Exit Wounds was supposed to be an 8k story, and El Monstruo was originally meant to be a 20k fic. I love to fool myself it seems.

4) I see the topics that I want to address and how to do it. I love working with intertextuality too, EW followed Jonah's story, and EMA continues the theme of the feather pillow.

5) I pick the parts of the list that seem more entertaining and fun to write. Here is when I get in trouble and one of the reasons why EMA is not in chronological order.

6) I get distracted in the process, probably trying to research a cake recipe and I end up on Youtube watching a small documentary about the Dies Irae.

7) Despair and panic.

8) I focus on the parts of the story that stick everything together. This is probably the hardest step.

9) I complain about how hard it is to write and why I chose to do it and why is this my hobby really.

10) I'm more or less done.

11) I edit like there's no tomorrow in whatever word processor I'm using (I've found that changing them sometimes helps to trick your brain into writing in a new environment). Then I paste it to another (for example from Word to Google Docs) because they pick different mistakes and then I use Grammarly.

11) I post, forgive myself for the typos and grammar mistakes that I didn't see, and hope for the best.

12) Despair again.

13) Lately, after a while I edit again once it’s posted. It’s not ideal, but It's easier to spot typos after you forget what you wrote.

And I think that's about it. I'd like to add that the process doesn't always work like this, I wrote the list to make sense of the process, but it's never as structured as it appears to be here.

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

I don't ahahaha.

Okay but I try to remember why I started writing in the first place, and I try to focus on the reasons that made that idea so important that I had to give it shape. In one of those ao3commentoftheday posts, someone said that no matter what, you are the only person that can write *that* story because the world you could potentially create is as unique as your vision of the world.

In the end, I'm writing for myself, and even though I'm my harshest critic, I am the person that enjoys those stories the most too.

And sometimes, I go back to the comments that some lovely people have left in my works (if there are any), it always helps. That's why supporting your local writer is important, that is, if you can.

(Sometimes, truly is sheer stubbornness).

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

I would love to say two or three, but after the first, I'm done. And that's mainly because I don't have the time to rewrite 74000 words twice or thrice. With Exit Wounds, I had to write it twice because I had no choice, and I actually think it helped because I could go back and edit some of the parts that didn't quite fit and add other scenes that seemed more appropriate, but that's a luxury I don’t have now.

But the thing is I'm such a slow writer and I overthink so much about what I want to say that I am, at least, okay after the first draft. Then I edit with all my might.

Sometimes, however, when a paragraph doesn't work I write it again under the original version. Then I compare them and see if I'm writing the same thing again and which of them works best.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH38

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Relationship fluff, implied smut, a sprinkle of angst

WC: 4486

SERIES MASTERLIST

Y/N wakes up with Dean breathing down her neck. 

“Dean,” She says, pushing back a little to get him awake.

“Jesus, what?” 

She giggles. Dean’s always so cranky when he gets woken up. His sleeping schedule has changed completely since he’s not working anymore and even more since he takes care of her. To her, it feels like he’s been catching up on sleep that he’s missed since the day he came back from the war.

“Today’s the day.” She says, and turns inside the covers, hitting her cast against his shin.

“Fucking Christ, Y/N!” Dean shouts out in pain.

“Sorry.” She whispers and Dean lies on his back, spreads his arm out and lets her crawl in. 

“It’s okay, just be careful. What’s today?” He asks but she thinks he knows. She’s been talking about it or a week! Counting back the days and hours leading up to it.

“The cast?” She says anyway, rubbing it into his face.

“Oh, the cast!”

 *

 They’re sitting in the hospital where she has an appointment for a last check up. She has to undergo a last x-ray that’s why they couldn’t let Sergei remove it. 

Dean’s sitting beside her in the examination room after she took the x-ray, mindlessly browsing through his phone when she feels something warm between her thighs. She whimpers softly.

Of course Dean hears it, and leans closer, whispering to her, “What is it?” There’s a look of concern on his face and he puts his phone back into his pocket.

She blushes and there’s the door opening, the doctor comes in with x-ray in hand. 

Leaning to Dean before the doctor sits down, she whispers back, “Your cum just ran out.”

Dean’s jaw drops and he swallows hard, tries to make a straight face when the doctor starts to talk about her injury.

She hides her smirk.

It was kind of an accident this morning. Dean had helped her with the plastic bag for her cast before she showered, only thing was that she was already naked and really, one thing led to another and she found herself pinned to the shower walls with Dean’s cock rocking up into her. 

He had asked her where she wanted him to come and honestly, there’s not many places that she likes it, and she likes it most when he comes deep inside. 

Dean was taken aback, but he was so close he couldn’t even pull out anymore even if he wanted to.

That leads them to now, where his cum is leaking out of her and she knows that Dean likes the idea. Loves it when he knows that she leaks him. Maybe not really while she sits at the doctors with him checking her ankle while she wears a skirt, and the doctor could technically see her damp panties. 

She flinches every time another blob of cum runs out of her, and the doctor thinks he hurt her while he works on her cast and all Dean does is grinning like an idiot every time she flinches. 

The doctor asks her about her pain level, hands her another pack of painkillers just in case and with that, they’re off.

Dean’s hand is on the back of her neck, squeezing as he walks her to the car. “Fuck, I had a hard time concentrating in there knowing you’re leaking me while the doc could see it.”

He pushes her against his car, her back hits the rough door, and kisses her rough and hard before his hand disappears underneath her skirt to rub at her clit through the damp panties. Dean slips a finger inside, runs it through the thick slick of his own cum before he groans into the kiss. His finger comes back out and he brushes the slick finger at her lips, she sucks it in, which makes Dean groan out even louder and he pushes his hips forward, making her feel how hard he is.

“Can’t wait to get you home,” He growls, parts from her and opens the car door for her. 

“What will you do when you get me home?” Her grin is cocky, just how he likes it and she knows.

Dean leans his elbow on the car, whispers to her in a low dark voice, “Oh, you’ll see.”

He slams the door close and runs to his side, gets in and starts the engine. He drives off with a screech, takes Baby to its limits.

Y/N has to laugh as they’re on the road, folds her left leg up on the bench and turns her body towards him. She watches him for a while, looks at the vein in his neck, Dean’s biting on the finger of the hand that’s not on the steering wheel.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He drawls, it’s loud and deep. 

“Looking at you how?” She’s baffled.

Dean frowns, “I know that look alright, it’s when you’re up to no good.” And with his next breath he adds, “The answer is no.”

She moves forward anyway, grins stupidly as she lowers herself down, lays her hand on his thigh.

“Baby,” His voice vibrates, it’s some kind of a warning, she knows that, it’s just… she doesn’t really care. 

Her hands work on his belt, and Dean groans, looks down to her, a crease between his eyebrows. She palms his cock through his pants, feels it hard underneath the cotton of his jeans. “Seriously, I don’t have any cops on my payroll anymore. We’ll be in so much trouble.”

Her fingers already lower his zipper down, and she looks up at him, pouts a little too, for the effect.

“Please, daddy?”

She can see Dean’s hand tightens on the steering wheel as he lets out a loud moan upon hearing her say the word. He can’t resist the combination of all the things that triggers his fancy, and she’s missed that. Missed how easy she can rile him up. How easy it is to get him to cave in, because he’s doing just that, as his hand goes to her head to push back a strand of hair that’s fallen in her face, while her fingers lower down his zipper. Dean doesn’t say anything, only looks at her like she’s the only thing that matters.

  The week leading up to the wedding is uneventful. She’s back to drawing and painting mostly to kill the time, tries to find a purpose in life again since she now literally has nothing else to do and no injury to recover from. 

Maybe, Y/N thinks, she can talk Dean into letting her work on the new house with him. Because that’s the place where he’s at most of the time since she’s cast-less. He wants to get some things done before he could show it to her and he’s excited for it like a kid on Christmas morning. 

She usually stays up until he’s home, mostly watching crime documentaries on Netflix and cuddling with Bubbles. She misses Cuddles, missed that old grumpy cat and she still blames herself for leaving him behind. 

It’s three days until the wedding and she’s been out and bought a dress, found some nice flats to go with it and cozies herself up with a container of ice cream when she hears the turning of a key in the lock. 

Dean comes in, walks to the couch to greet her and bubbles. He smells like plaster and varnish. He steals a spoonful of ice cream, before stealing a kiss from her. “Be right out.” He says and she knows it’s because he goes to take a shower. 

Sometimes Dean would come back to see her taking a bath and upon seeing it, he undressed hastily to join her. They also manage to go to Bobby's once when Dean came home earlier. That was nice. Bobby was delighted to see her, even though she was scared to go there at first, still thinks that Dean’s people will hate her. 

After she eats half of the container, Dean comes out of the bedroom, dressed only in his pj pants, his hair and body still damp. She clenches her jaw, because the sight does something to her. The sight being him shirtless, with damp ruffled up hair. He comes closer and she can see all the little freckles sprayed on his body. 

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” She asks, raises one eyebrow, not that she minds, though.

Dean sits down next to her, one finger hooks into the collar of her shirt, pulling at it a little. “Because you’re wearing my shirt.”

Oh.

Yeah, that’s right. 

He usually comes home and changes into a shirt after showering and he wears the same shirt for a couple of days, because he usually sleeps shirtless, only wears it to sit with her on the sofa. Today she missed him, so she took the liberty to wear it because it smells like him and she loves that.

“C’mere.” Dean spreads his arm and she climbs into his lap, the ice cream container still in her hand and all. 

Y/N lays her head on his shoulder, and Dean kisses her forehead before he takes the container out of her hand. 

“Yeah, take it before I empty it.” She says and buries her face into the crook of his neck. She sniffs him, his scent totally makes her light headed.

He laughs, eats the ice cream and watches TV with her for a while wordlessly. She likes that too, next to talking or sex. She likes how comfortable they are in their silence. She doesn’t always need to talk and she doesn’t always need him to talk. Sometimes it can be really great to just sit here and not talk at all. 

When the show ends, the ice cream is gone and Dean gave it to her to set it on the coffee table, because she’s still on his lap and he couldn’t move. She takes the remote, zaps through some channels to see if there’s anything on.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asks out of the blue.

“Sure.” She says, not sure where this is going but they make it a habit to answer anything truthfully.

She looks up at him and his finger comes up to paint over her face. Painting the line of her eyebrows, down her nose, the crease around her lips. As if he wants to memorize her with the tip of his fingers.

“Why did you think I could ever be happy? I mean, without you.” 

He’s talking about the letter she left, she knows that. Sometimes, he would ask her things that crossed his mind. There’s still a lot of why’s and what ifs that they need to work through.

Y/N throws her arms around his neck, lays her forehead to his face, feels his bread scratchy and somehow soft. “Because,” She says, “When you love someone, all you want is for that person to be happy, even if you’re not part of that happiness.”

“It’s bullshit, though.” 

“Language!” She warns him.

Dean sighs, “That’s bullcrap!”

“Why?”

Dean’s arms come up around her and he places his lips to her forehead and mumbles into her skin, “Because there’s really no happiness when you’re not part of it.”

 ***

 Anna and Cas’ wedding is upstate and Y/N is packing her things because Dean said that he’s booked into a hotel nearby so that they wouldn’t have to make the long drive back after. 

She’s already dressed in her navy blue cocktail dress as he walks in wearing a fucking suit, he still looks like a walking billboard ad for an expensive perfume and she thinks that it’s probably never going to change. Dean manages to look flawless with everything he wears and it’s really not fucking fair.

He’s never seen her dress before so he takes some time to take in the view before he opens his mouth to ask, “Not red?”

“It’s a wedding, I don’t wanna stand out and steal the thunder.”

Dean chuckles at that, walks closer and bends down to kiss her. “Well, you do steal my heart.”

“Ugh. So cheesy."

“Hey!”

They laugh and he picks up their bag. She wonders why they had to dress up already when they could do it there in the hotel but Dean makes up some excuses and what does she know. She’s just his ‘plus one’ anyway. Today’s certainly not about her. And also not really about Dean, even though she needs to tell him something that’s been nagging her. She decides that it could wait. Doesn’t want to ruin the mood, especially not when there’s an almost two hours drive ahead of them with no way to escape each other should things get awkward.

 *

 It’s a beautiful place which Cas — or rather Anna — has chosen for the wedding. An old manor, with a big white pavilion in the middle of a meadow. A square wooden dance floor off to a side, tables set up all in white to the other side. There’s a flower arch in the back too, with white chairs lined up for the ceremony. 

Y/N wonders if her wedding would be similar to this as well. Wonders if the man standing next to her would be Dean. She doesn’t even know if Dean wants to get married at all and if yes, would she be the one he would want to marry?

Although she likes the set up and thinks it’s lovely, she still thinks that it would be too much for herself. A little too over the top. She would want something smaller. Only a handful of good friends and people, maybe in a backyard. There’s no need to really rent out anything and make a big fuss about it. But she doesn’t judge, people are different and that’s okay as it is.

They were amongst the first ones to arrive because Dean wants to be here for Cas. They find him in the manor, off in a room by himself.

Dean went straight in, hugged his friend and did some prep talk. It’s a while before Cas even notices her. She’s a little shy, didn’t have time to go and meet them beforehand since she’s been back.

“Hey, Y/N,” Cas’ voice is steady, calm. Although he’s nervous, she can see that.

“Hi Cas,” She smiles and the dark haired man opens his arms for a hug. She goes in willingly. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Cas says, “It’s good to have you back.”

“No hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings from me.” Cas nods before he looks over to Dean, “Well, I can imagine that someone was hard, though.”

Y/N laughs as Dean puts Cas into a headlock.

Dean and Cas were talking and she knows that Dean pulls out everything he’s got to distract his friend. She wonders if she should go find Anna, at least introducing herself because she’s never seen the woman before but then again, she thinks that Anna probably has a lot to worry about right now and she shouldn’t interrupt her. There’s still time for when they all will be less stressed.

 *

 She sits between Jess and Gabriel when the wedding starts and Dean’s standing next to Cas in front of the arch. God he looks good and she can’t help but think about a wedding where Dean is the groom. How he would stand there and wait for the bride, a smile on his face as big as Cas’. He sees her and winks, and she blushes at that, afraid that he can read her mind.

The music starts and Anna walks in, a wedding gown in champagne color and oh god, she looks so beautiful with her red hair and all, there’s a little bump which is perfectly  accentuated by the dress Anna’s wearing. Dean had told her that Anna’s pregnant and she couldn’t be happier for Cas.

Y/N frowns at first because Anna looks damn familiar and then it hits her.

“Is Anna’s name Milton?” She whispers and asks Gabriel. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Ah, nevermind.” She says, but in reality, she does mind because her heart starts to pump faster. 

That’s Anna Milton. Brad Milton's big sister. Her ex-boyfriend’s big sister. And she knows her, she knows his mother. She looks around and spots the mother and Brad in the first row. 

Ah, that’s just really great.

*

After the wedding Dean comes to find her, wants to introduce her to Anna but she holds him back before he could drag her over. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Dean’s one hand is on the small of her back.

“I know Anna.”

“Okay? From where?” He frowns a little but he’s not really irritated.

She sighs, “My boyfriend in high school, Brad. She’s his sister. I know their whole family.”

Okay, maybe Dean is a little irritated. Because he frowns some more, the creases between his eyebrows deepens as his lips try to form words.

“The one who took your virginity?” 

“Dean!” She shushes him, he’s so loud! She can only hope nobody heard him and whispers, “Yeah, but that was a long time ago, alright?”

“But you two still text and all that.” Dean hisses now.

Yeah, she forgot that they do, haven’t done it for a while though, but Dean didn’t miss the fact that they still keep in touch because she told him when they came clean about their lives.

“Once every six month probably, yeah. We parted as friends.”

“Huh,” Dean exhales.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you because I don’t want you finding it out from someone else around here, okay?”

“I need a drink.” Dean says and turns to leave.

She grabs at his arm, hard enough to make him turn back around. “Dean.”

Dean clenches his jaw, he doesn’t say anything, looks past her head, his gaze lost in the crowd. But she doesn’t say anything either, just waits til the storm inside of him is over. 

After a while, Dean lowers his face, his hands come up to cradle around her cheeks, thumbs tracing along her skin, “I’ll be right back. Wait, okay?”

“Okay,” 

And with that, he’s off to the bar.

He once told her that he’d like to kill all the men before him because they have found her first but what would he do to someone who was her first sexual experience? She doesn’t want to know, hopes that it won’t be a big issue because they’re adults now, right?

Dean comes back about ten minutes later, cradles the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss, “‘M sorry,” He says, and he tastes of whiskey. “I’m trying to change, try not to be jealous and think that everyone could take you away from me. Please be patient with me?”

Her frown disappears and instead, there’s a smirk on her face. “Of course.”

“Good,” Dean smiles back, pecks her lips once more, “Okay, come on, gotta parade you around.”

Dean takes her hand, drags her to Cas and Anna and she’s actually surprised that Anna still remembers her and she hugs her so tight Y/N has a hard time breathing. Brad’s not around so at least there’s that. Dean doesn’t seem to be irritated anymore, or maybe he’s just really good at hiding it.

 *

 In the evening, Dean’s helping Cas’ with something when she stands off to the side of the dance floor, smiles as she sees happy faces and some who are drunk off their heads trying to dance, when she hears a familiar voice next to her.

“Ah, I finally caught you alone.” Brad comes to stand next to her, his hands in his pockets, as if he’s a little shy, maybe he is, because they haven’t seen each other for such a long time. He hasn’t changed, still has a big grin on his face, that charming golden boy smile and he’s overall just really adorable looking, like he used to be. She hugs him briefly before they watch the dancers together. “You want a drink?” 

“No, thanks.”

“Mind if I get one?”

“Why should I mind?”

“I just want you to stay where you are, can you do that? I wanna talk and catch up.”

She nods, “Yeah, sure.”

Brad nods back before he dashes to the open bar and is back before the song is even over. He sips his drink, holds it out to her and she shakes her head. “I forgot, you’re not a big drinker.” 

“I just don’t really feel like it.” She shrugs, which is probably weird because they’re at the wedding. Eating and drinking is all people do here. 

Brad stands there, one hand in his pants pocket and one hand holding his drink. “Never thought you’d know the bad guys, Y/N.” 

She turns her head, looks at Brad. “You know what they did?” 

“Yeah,” Brad says, “We’ve all known but Anna loves Cas so we turned a blind eye, as long as he didn’t pull us all in, we were good with the relationship. Not that it had mattered much. You know my sister, she’s as stubborn as can be.”

She chuckles, “Yeah. Remember how she was furious that we broke up?”

Brad rolls his eyes, “She blamed me even two years later. Said that I let the best thing that ever happened to me slip through my hands.”

“Awe, she was exaggerating.” She says and her eyes wander around, sees Anna and Cas on the dance floor now. Which must also mean that Dean’s around here somewhere.

“I don’t think she was,” Brad drinks up, “She was kinda right. I liked what we had but then your father died and you weren’t you anymore, you know?”

She nods to that, “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

People are clapping their hands, applauding the band and soon they start up a new song. 

“Don’t be. It’s understandable. It’s just if I could go back, I would probably help you more, you know? Not being so selfish and only thinking about my own future. Yours mattered too and you were hurt and angry and I wasn’t there.”

“Brad, really,” She says, putting one of her hands on the wrist of his hand that’s holding the now empty drink, “It’s okay. I’m okay now, ain’t I?”

Brad snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, you are. Quite the catch you got there, Y/N.” 

She blushes at that. 

“Say,” Brad starts, “Does he make you happy? I mean, are you happy?”

She’s a little taken aback by the question and she might take a little too long to answer because she spots Dean in the crowd. His eyes on her as he dances with Anna’s grandmother. The woman is all over Dean, pressing her face into his chest and Y/N couldn’t help but grin. Dean sees her too, most likely he did see Brad standing next to her either because a flinch of irritation crosses Dean’s face before he’s smiling at something the grandmother says. Dean winks at Y/N then before he continues to swirl the grandma along the dance floor.

“Is that him? With my grandma?” Brad asks.

“Yeah,” She answers with a smile. 

Brad’s laughing, “Granny can get handsy, I hope he’s okay with that.”

“Oh, I think he’ll manage.” She joins in with Brad’s laughter.

The music stops and the crowd claps as the singer announces the first official dance of Mr. and Mrs. Novak. 

Dean apparently manages to break free from Brad’s grandmother and he walks in her direction.

“Hey,” Dean greets them both and she sees that he’s met Brad before. Of course he has because he’s Cas’ best man and they probably went out for dinner and what not with the whole family already at least once. Dean probably even befriended Brad without knowing that he was her ex. 

Dean weaves his arm around her waist, holds her there and pulls her towards him, kisses the top of her head. “You okay?” 

She looks up and smiles, “Yeah, are you? Brad said that his grandma can be handsy.”

Brad’s laughing at the comment and Dean purses his lips before he says, “Well, she did ask me if I wanna join her for a drink in her room after the party, so.”

“You know,” Brad jumps in, “If I wouldn’t know my granny, I’d think that you’d be joking. But it does sound like her.”

“What did you say?” She asks Dean.

“Said I’m already spoken for by the prettiest girl around here.” Dean smiles, bends down to kiss her. 

“Knowing her, she’d say that it was her, didn’t she?” Brad’s grinning, unfazed by their PDA. 

Dean turns his head, rolls his eyes at Brad, “Yeah.” 

The men both laugh and Brad starts to tell Dean other anecdotes about his flirty grandmother, and that’s when she thinks that Dean has changed. That he’s trying to change. Trying to get away from his usual jealous self. He trusts her, she knows. She has won back his trust and she’s very happy about that.

  They watch the dancers for a while until a girl comes up and asks Brad for a dance. Dean wonders if she wanted to ask Dean first but saw that Dean’s arm is around Y/N and the girl wanted to save her face so she asked the next best guy around. Because the girl has been giving him eyes the whole night already. It actually really doesn’t matter, he thinks. 

Brad accepts with a smile, leads the girl to the dance floor but before that, Y/N holds Brad back, “I owe you an answer,” She says, “I am. I hope you are too.” 

Brad nods, “Good. And yes, I am, too. That’s all that matters, Y/N.”

They watch the girl pull Brad in the middle of the dance floor, smile as he spins her around. 

“He’s a good dancer.” Dean says, is probably a little surprised how she could be so terrible when her ex boyfriend is so good.

She drives her elbow into his side, making Dean flinch, “What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing.” Dean knows when to stop. There will be no winner coming out of a petty argument. Instead he asks, “What did he ask you?”

Y/N looks up to him with a bright smile, “If I’m happy.”

“Are you?” Dean’s arm goes around her.

“Uh-huh,” She wraps her arms around his middle and Dean cradles her face, making her look up at him.

“Uh-huh?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles.

He lowers his face, kisses her forehead, her nose, her lips. “Come on,” He then says, releases her grip and takes her hand, pushing his way through the crowd and she follows, no question asked.

CH39

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

right after watching roman kemp’s documentary. 

i was already struggling a bit with the idea that, actually, without a doubt, i’d had suicidal thoughts back in november. i seriously almost jumped in front of busy traffic. and it scared me so, so much. i’ve only ever opened up about that once, to a close friend who i know has struggled with depression and with whom i’ve talked about that a bit before. but even to tell that to him i chugged two bottles of wine. i told it almost cryptically, like i was ashamed. he understood but was too much in shock to say anything besides making sure i was not still in that mindset.

i haven’t even told my best friend, who i live with. i did open up to him, then, that i was drowning in my anxiety and depression. i told him about how my thoughts never stopped. and how i really did want them to just. stop. for once.

this documentary hit me hard, because i see myself in jack, first and foremost. i know what it’s like to be in those moments that roman was trying to understand. 

but it also hit home because we all don’t talk to our loved ones enough about these struggles. or lesser struggles. or simple problems. doesn’t matter; any conversation is better than nothing. 

the two-OK rule. asking friends if they’re okay twice.

and no, we can’t “prevent” anything. there’s no one to blame if someone goes through with anything. but creating a space where we can be open, give room to those who might be in need of that talk, that context, can do a lot of good.

taking these reminders with me, and hopefully i can inspire some to watch the doc.

[path-of-my-childhood]

Miss Americana Is A Coming-Of-Age Story, Says Director Lana Wilson

By: Madeline Roth for MTV Date: February 12th 2020

Miss Americana, which premiered last month at Sundance and is now on Netflix, charts the pop star's transformation from a people-pleaser who measured her worth in pats on the head to a 30-year-old woman who's stopped worrying and learned to speak her mind. Wilson told MTV News about the doc:

"When I started, there wasn't a set, 'This is the story,' or anything like that. I just started filming immediately after meeting her and then just filmed, filmed, filmed, and saw what emerged."

Wilson tells MTV News about how Miss Americana is a coming-of-age story, the delicate balance of portraying Swift's romantic relationship, the studio footage she left on the cutting room floor, and the now-infamous "cat backpack."

This film made me really excited to see what kind of artist Taylor Swift is going to be in her 30s, now that she's seemingly more comfortable speaking her mind and isn't as worried about being a quote-unquote "good girl." Do you see it as capturing a turning point in her life? Absolutely. I think it's a coming-of-age story about this woman at a pivot point in her life and career. Taylor went through all of this pain and then stood up and became the person she wanted to be, but didn't have the ability to be for so many years, because of the leash that she put on herself. To be able to take that leash off, I think it's really amazing for people to see that. It's amazing from a documentary director's perspective when you get to go with a subject who really changes in the time that you film with them. That's what I was lucky enough to get to see.

You do get that sense that she doesn't feel the need to constantly reinvent herself anymore. How do you think the film sets a tone or an expectation for her going forward? I think she's always going to artistically challenge herself no matter what. What I saw when I saw her writing songs, and even from the videos of her when she's 11 years old writing her first songs on the guitar, is that she's someone who is always going to write something she hasn't written about before and do something new and experiment. I do think she's more comfortable with who she is now, though. It's about her journey to self-acceptance. She's less focused on being the person other people want her to be and more focused on being the person who she wants to be and who she is.

You definitely saw that throughout the film. At the same time, I loved seeing those moments where she's insecure, like when she finds out that Reputation didn't get nominated for a Grammy or when she's criticizing the way her face looks while shooting the "ME!" video. She even says at one point that she feels like there's a better version of herself out there. Why do you think those moments are important to see as well? I think when you see any insecurity coming out of the mouth of a superstar, that's a really powerful thing. And in fact, how we deal with insecurity is really what defines our strength. Taylor writes so candidly in her lyrics about the hardest times and the times when things didn't go well. That's what her fans love her for. We all want to feel less alone, and that's one reason why people turn to art. It's great for people to see that their heroes are human.

I found it really effective how her ages showed up on screen throughout the film. It really made you realize that she was so young when all of these big, formative life events were happening to her. Why did you decide to highlight her ages like that? That was my editor Greg O'Toole's idea, and I thought it was brilliant. It changes the way you see everything. When we think about Taylor Swift, I think we tend to forget how young she was when she started. You feel that amazement of, "Wow! She was writing those songs at that age?!" But then there's also, "Oh my god, she had to go through that when she was a teenager?!" You see the good things and the hard things at once. It gives context, but it’s also this reminder throughout the film that this is a coming-of-age story.

Totally. When it came to portraying Taylor’s relationship with her boyfriend, that three or so minutes where he's shown backstage and then you see cell phone footage that looks like it was shot by him — I found that particularly moving and a nice way to acknowledge something that is an important part of her life but is also sacred and private. What kind of care went into achieving that balance? It really was a balance. Taylor's had so many relationships go through the public ringer, so it was important to respect her desire to keep her relationship private, while still acknowledging the important role that relationship plays in her life. I remember we had done the first rough cut and we had this whole section of her writing Reputation. She was like, "I do have a few videos on my phone that I think could capture the fact that while I was out of the public eye, it was one of the happiest times of my life." When I saw those videos, I was so moved by them. Especially by her singing "Call It What You Want" when she's in the slippers. I was like, "This is everything. This is all we need to know." It's really special. You don't even have to see her boyfriend's face; you could feel it.

I loved that scene and I loved the song choices in general. "Out Of the Woods," "Getaway Car," "Call It What You Want"... I thought it was really cool how you didn't just use "Shake It Off" and all the big hits. I so appreciate you saying that because not a lot of people have commented on that. I really did not want to do, "here's all of Taylor's greatest hits in the first 10 minutes of the movie," which you often see in this type of project. I wanted to use songs that were emotionally and thematically related to what was going on in the story at that time. With "Getaway Car," it's this moment of total freedom for her in the story of the film. Or "Clean," after the sexual assault trial, for example.

When you're making this kind of film and you're capturing Taylor during such a long stretch of time, how do you know when it's done? What was the moment when you realized you had enough of the story you wanted to tell? My sense was that we had to film through the Lover album release. I think you feel at that point in the film that Taylor isn't as concerned with what people will think of the album. It's more like, it was a joy for her to make and to put out into the world. She went through this period where she went away from the public eye, but she wants to keep entertaining people and making music, and nothing is going to stop her from that. I loved the idea of ending the movie with her walking onstage, and that idea of this bravery she's had since she was 12 years old, of walking out to perform. I wanted to end it with her going back out into the world again to face the public, but you have the sense that something's a little bit different about her now. That's the sense I hope the audience has.

Was there anything you had to leave out of the film that you were particularly bummed about cutting? There was so much more songwriting and recording in the studio. It's so special to see something come from just the seed of an idea - a fragment of a melody or a lyric typed in her phone - and get to then hear it as a finished song. That's some of my favorite stuff in the film, but there was a lot that we had to leave on the cutting room floor, heartbreakingly.

I'd imagine. Do you think that footage will ever be used for anything? I don't know. People have asked me about it, so it's giving me hope that maybe we could just release the 40-minute version of Taylor writing "Only the Young" as a standalone film or something.

Honestly, I would watch. A lot of people would watch! I think a lot of people would.

Last question: How long did it take for Meredith and Olivia to warm up to you? I don't know if they ever did, honestly! They're very cute and they're quite friendly. They're often hiding under things. They just kind of pop out from somewhere, so you do have this feeling of, "There are cats everywhere!"

I loved the screen time they got. Especially the cat backpack. I remember watching the cat backpack scene with one of my editors and I was like, "Is this too long? Are we spending too long on the cat backpack?" He looked at me and he was like, "Definitely not." And he was absolutely right.