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astranva · 4 years

Text

Not One of Them.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 9.9k

Category: Fluff, single mom!Y/N

Warning: Some strong language. Slight mention of abortion. Not proof-read.

Note: time-skip to when covid-19 is dead ok

Summary: Harry is lyrically stuck, Y/N is the new big songwriter. She’s also a single mom to a 4-year-old girl.

Early italics are flashbacks.

When you’re a young mother, the world isn’t always the kindest, especially when no partner is in the picture.

While you were young, having had baby Faith when you were only 21, you applauded yourself for years for the effort you poured into raising a child alone – with the help of family and friends, and too many books and videos, but you get the point.

Faith wasn’t a mistake, you hate it when anyone even dares to imply so, but she was unplanned. You were in a toxic on-and-off relationship for 3 years, at some point believing that it might have been an open relationship because of the amount of times you caught your ex-boyfriend flirting with women and men right in front of you.

You had done your part after knowing that you were pregnant after one drunken night that led to a rough make-up session. You approached your ex, sat him down and broke the news;

“I’m pregnant.”

“Whose is it?” He had asked, face falling.

Yours scrunched up in anger, almost disgust at the implication. “Yours, you dumb-fuck! I don’t sleep around while I’m in a relationship like some people.” You had emphasized.

He ignored your comment, releasing a sigh. “You aren’t keeping it, are you?”

You were never against abortion. You were never against planned pregnancy. You had freaked out alright on your own when you were confirmed pregnant, but something inside you told you to hold on to the human inside of you, to that little bundle of oblivion – a little bundle of faith.

It was when he asked you that one question, his tone almost sure that you would abort the child, that you felt angry tears pool your eyes. “I am.”

He wasn’t ready to hear it and his wide eyes showed that, “Wh-What do you mean you are? I can’t have a fucking baby! This wasn’t supposed to get this real!”

“This real?” You had chuckled bitterly, “You stay with me for 3 years, fuck me over more than I can count then you always come crying for me, then tell me it wasn’t supposed to get this real?” You stood up, draping your bag over your shoulder, “I’m having the kid, Will. It’s over between us and-“ you gulped, swallowing back the tears as you pointed at him, “I never want to see you again.”

“You bet your fucking ass you won’t.” He had grumbled, tearing eye contact to look somewhere else but your death glare before you left.

Besides the university halls, Will had managed to stay out of your sight and you were grateful for that. Pregnancy was a roller-coaster, one you definitely screamed during all ride of, but nothing and nobody prepared you for the moment when you gave birth to your little love.

Your roommate and best friend, Cece, had driven you to the hospital and notified the rest of your family and friends, and you were glad that during that very period of time, you had someone beside you.

It was when you held your little love that it all faded away; the pain, the loss, the confusion, the fright – everything faded away the moment your skin made contact with your daughter’s, watching her with pure love and admiration.

You hadn’t picked a name before that moment, only nodding and smiling to the showering of recommendation from people, but one name wasn’t recommended, not even mentioned.

“Faith. You’re my little Faith.”

“You’re looking a little sick, honey. Have you been eating well? You overwork yourself-”

“Mom, mom,” you laughed quietly, tearing your eyes from watching your daughter play with her cousins before looking at your mom beside you, “I’m alright. Last project was challenging, that’s all.”

“Who were you writing for this time?” your mom asked with pride and excitement, curious to know the name of yet another big celebrity her daughter had been working with.

“Adele.” You smirked as you sipped your juice, hearing your mom gasp with a hand to her heart before letting out a small squeal.

In her dungarees and sandals, Faith ran towards you, making you set your juice aside to welcome your daughter in your arms. “Mommy, did you see me win Tag?”

“Yes! You were amazing!” You hyped your daughter up, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, making Faith giggle.

With Faith standing between your legs, talking to her grandma, you checked your watch. “Ah, shoot. I better get going.”

“Will you be here for bedtime story?” Faith asked, looking up at you as you slung on your tote bag and held your car key in one hand before kneeling in front of your daughter.

“I will be, baby. Don’t give Nana a hard time, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I love you.” With one last hug and a kiss on her cheek, you smiled at your daughter who clung to your neck, pressing a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“I love you.” Faith replied, moving to stand with her nephew after waving at you as you left.

“Call me at any time if anything happens or if you need anything, Mom, yeah?” You said as you walked towards the door, your mother following behind.

“Wouldn’t want to disturb your wo-”

“Mom.” You stressed, turning to look at your mom, “Nothing like that. I’ll get going. Thank you for watching her.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. You know I love spending time with little Faith more than anything. Drive safely, honey.”

“Hey, Andrew, got you a donut.” You beamed as you approached the studio’s receptionist, a 19-year-old intern.

“You’re an angel.” Andrew sighed in contentment as he opened the box containing his donut before looking at you, “Just adopt me. I guarantee I’ll be the best brother to Faith.”

You laughed, “Think having a 19-year-old son will make me feel old. I’ll pass.”

“Dammit.” Andrew shook his head jokingly. “Meeting with Jeffery Azoff, huh?”

“Yeah, do you know if he got here yet?”

“Like 3 minutes ago.”

You checked your watch again, finding that it was just on time for your scheduled meeting, feeling glad that you weren’t late.

“Alright, I’ll see you on the way out.” You waved at Andrew who nodded at you while raising his donut before you set off down the hall and into the elevator.

Walking out and down the hallway, you approached the room you had agreed to meet Jeffrey in before knocking softly, hearing a distant “come in!”

Gently opening the door and sticking your head inside, your eyes moved to the couch where 2 men looked up at you; one was Jeffrey – you had seen pictures of him from when you worked once with his father – and the other was, undoubtedly in your mind, none other than Harry Styles.

“Y/N?” Jeff asked, him and Harry standing as you walked in and closed the door behind you, approaching them.

“Yes,” you smiled, reaching for a handshake which he had happily accepted, “It’s great meeting you.”

Harry’s eyes were set on you, a small smile on his face that did everything but mirror the surprise he felt. He wasn’t sure why; he didn’t have any expectations but he certainly didn’t expect to see someone as radiant as you were.

You looked at him next with a polite smile as you reached for a handshake, “Pleasure meeting you. I’m a huge fan of your work.”

And God, his stomach flipped and his face flushed at the comment, feeling shy under your gaze as he shook your hand, “Thank you so much. Can say the same about your work, you’re very talented.”

“Thanks!” You beamed before motioning towards the couch, the 3 of you sitting down; Harry and Jeff on the couch, you on a chair across from them. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, thanks. Had the biggest cup of coffee just before coming here.” Jeff replied.

You turned to look at Harry, smiling and nodding when he raised his bottle of water.

“Alright, let’s get into it,” you leaned forward, “How can I help you?”

Jeff looked at Harry, signaling for him to talk.

“I know it hasn’t been a year since I released Fine Line,” Harry moved his hands as he talked, looking at the carpeted floor underneath him before looking up at you, “But I’ve been writing ever since but- something is missing. Something is wrong. I wrote 9 tracks so far, all of them are unfinished because I just feel like they’re missing something. I have the idea, have the concepts, sometimes I have the tunes,” he counted on his fingers, “But I can’t finish one song. It’s like I’m, like,” he shrugged, trying to find the right word.

“Stuck?” You suggested, staring at him with an assuring expression which he found soothing.

Harry’s body slumped, tilting his head slightly as he looked back at you and a soft, small smile made its way to his face at how you understood. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah, stuck. That’s the word.”

“I get you,” you assured him, “Do you guys have any sort of deadline?”

“No, not really, no. Not yet.” Jeff shook his head.

“Great,” you clapped, your eyebrows going up, “Do you have any of these tracks’ lyrics now?”

“Yeah, lemme just-“ Harry reached beside him, holding his tote bag to take out his journal.

“Hey!” You grinned, grabbing his attention and making him look at you, seeing you holding out your tote bag to him.

You matched; right on the fabric in the middle was an illustrated design of a small cactus plant pot.

“I have the same one!” You looked down at yours before looking at him, Harry mirroring your actions before a grin broke out on his face.

“Well then, Y/N, it’s set. These will be the best songwriting sessions of the century. It’s fate.” He said dramatically in a joking manner, making you laugh quietly as you set your bag aside and he fished out his journal.

Flipping through the pages, he handed you his journal so you can see one of the songs he had half-written, watching as leaned back on the comfy chair, holding the journal in your hands and reading.

It was excruciating. Harry grew nervous, feeling funny in his stomach and he tried to convince himself that it might be the salad he had eaten prior to that meeting, and not that he was nervous you’d think he was the worst songwriter to-date.

He watched your eyes, taking notice of how you didn’t skim through the words, but read them carefully and taking your time to do so.

“This is really beautiful, Harry.” You said softly, eyes still on the page before looking up at him, oblivious to the breath Harry let out, “Really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, discreetly wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Not much damage really. The concept is clear. Post-breakup song.” You said, handing him his journal.

Harry nodded, confirming.

“Are the rest like that, too?”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head, “Figured that the last album had too many of that.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I understand. Just- I say take your time, honestly. I’ll help you with the songs you have, maybe we’d get inspired along the way to write new stuff, too, but you don’t want to force anything, you know? Sometimes some lyrics just aren’t meant to be, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded.

“Don’t you worry,” you gave him a smile, “It’ll all work out.”

“Well, so do we have a deal?” Jeff asked with a smile, opening his arms.

“I’m in.”

Maybe it was because you said that as you looked at him, or maybe it was because he knew of how crazy talented you were – he had spoken to his good friend Ed Sheeran a week prior and Ed had sworn up and down on your talent and how “bloody lovely! Like a little bird” you were – or maybe it your smile – hell, it might be a combination of all that, but Harry was ecstatic to work with you.

“I’m very excited to work with you, Y/N.” Harry had said with a smile of his own.

“Likewise, Harry. It isn’t that common to find artists as real as you are.”

God, what was with your compliments that had him blushing?

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N,” Jeff, too, had said. “Let’s talk busi-”

“Let’s do that over lunch.” You pointed at him, standing up, “My treat.”

“You always this friendly with clients?” Harry joked with an amused smile, staring up at you.

But your smile dropped and instead, your face twisted to worry. “Oh God, I hope I’m not stepping boundaries. It’s just always a good idea to warm up to each other and- I’m sorry, you probably think this is unpro-”

“Hey, hey, no,” Harry was quick to stand, holding his hands out, “I didn’t mean it like that. I genuinely think you’re friendly. Half of the songwriters I worked with were strict and- Shit, no. Lunch sounds wonderful. Really wonderful.”

He felt like an ass. A proper one. He hadn’t meant to make you feel like you were too friendly but that didn’t turn out as well as he had thought.

“We’d love to, really. Besides, it’s probably a great idea that you and Harry know each other so the sessions can go smooth.” Jeff added, standing up.

At this, Harry found himself smiling when the smile returned to your face. “In that case, there’s a place nearby that makes amazing sandwiches and desserts.”

Jeff’s mind was squeaking from its gears working. There weren’t many people on this planet who were purely kind, and it was something he admired in Harry. But at that moment, Jeff knew he had met one more person who was genuinely kind, just like his best friend and “client” – he hated calling Harry that – and it was proof when you insisted that you could give them a ride to and from the place instead of them following behind you or using the GPS, Jeff sitting in the passenger seat during the ride to the place while Harry sat at the back.

The place was a 5-tabeled one, nothing big. One wall was decorated with polaroids of customers, the waiters and waitresses, the chefs, and another with colorful stick-notes with messages from customers. It was a lowkey place, one that Harry hadn’t visited during all his trips to the studio until that moment.

“Hey, Y/N!” The woman behind the counter beamed as she waved.

“Hi, Soph! How are you?”

Soph stood from the chair she was sitting on, taking a few steps back to show her pregnant bump, putting one hand to it, “Ready to pop!”

You had motioned towards a table to Harry and Jeff who were quietly watching the interaction.

You gasped, “Look at you! And you’re still coming to work? What a queen.”

Soph shrugged, sitting back down, “Got mouths to feed and a self to pamper.” She said before waving at Harry and Jeff, “Hello, gentlemen.”

Jeff waved with a smile while Harry added, “Hello! Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles.” Soph replied.

Harry liked it. The no-freaking-out. How homey it all felt.

“Rick will be with you in a sec.” Soph said.

You, Harry, and Jeff sat on the circular table, both Harry and you hanging your tote bags on their chairs.

“You come here often, huh?” Harry started the conversation, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“You have no idea. You’d think I don’t know anywhere else.” You chuckled, “Been coming here ever since I was in college.”

Harry’s eyebrows went up in surprise, “Really? How long ago was that?”

“Graduated 3 years ago, first came when I was 19 so that’s about 6 years.”

“True loyal customer you are.” Harry said.

“What did you study, Y/N?” Jeff asked.

“Music composition. Was the disgrace of the family.” You joked, “Definitely had no idea the entire time if I would actually work or not.”

“But look at you now, one of the best.” Harry motioned towards you.

You waved him off with a bashful smile, “None of that. I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, I just get paid now.”

“Who even knows what they’re doing now?” Harry rhetorically asked, “We’re just, going with the flow.”

“Word, sir. Word.” They heard, the 3 of them turning to see the waiter – Rick – by their table.

Harry laughed, “Right?”

“Absolutely. I don’t remember the last time my plans didn’t get fucked. Just riding now.” Rick shrugged.

Harry raised his fist up for a bump, Rick bumping his fist into Harry’s.

Time seemed to pass as Harry and Jeff let you order for them, talking about the music industry and sharing funny stories while at it, as well as you had discussed your own business as you ate the club sandwiches and sipped on the iced tea.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a funny face as Harry took out his wallet after you had asked for the check.

“Paying?”

“Yeah, no. Said it’d be my treat.” You pointed at him, raising one eyebrow with a smile.

“Come on, I can’t just let you pay for us on the first day we meet.”

“Let’s at least split the bill.” Jeff suggested, watching as you shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” And with that, you stood up and walked towards Soph, paying for the food.

“How much do you want to bet that something will happen between the both of you?” Jeff asked quickly with a smirk, looking at Harry with a knowing look.

Harry’s eyes widened, tearing his gaze from being on you to his friend and manager, “What?”

“How much?”

“I just met her.” Harry tried to reason with him, finding Jeff to be bizarre and irrational. Hopeful, but irrational.

Jeff only gave him a shrug, “That’s a first.”

“That’s enough rom-coms at night for you, Jeffrey.”

At the sight of you walking back towards them, they both stopped talking and instead, smiled. “All sorted.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You really didn’t have to.” Harry stood, slinging his tote bag on his shoulder.

“I wanted to. Please don’t mention it.” You had smiled as you replied, the 3 of you putting back your chairs. “Bye, Soph!”

“Bye, sweetie!”

“Congratulations again on your pregnancy and good luck.” Harry put both hands together, pursing his lips into a polite smile at the woman behind the counter.

“You’re a sweetheart. Thank you, kind sir.” Soph joked, tipping an imaginary hat at him to which Harry responded to by holding up the tips of his imaginary skirt, putting one foot behind the other in a curtsy making you giggle.

With no spoken words, Jeff was quick to get into the backseat, pursing his lips to stifle his laughter at Harry’s face, who looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that screamed “What the fuck are you doing?” but he got into the passenger seat nonetheless, oblivious to the light shade of red that visited his cheeks but aware of the heat his face seemed to radiate.

The ride back to the studio wasn’t quiet. The radio was on for some background music but you and Harry were too engaged in a conversation to take notice of the songs playing. Anyone could have asked you what even started the conversation of French toast and you wouldn’t know how to reply because none of you knew how you suddenly began talking about French toast.

“Have you tried soaking the toast in lemon?” You asked, tone excited and face breaking into an eager smile.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Haven’t, no. How good is it?”

“God, it’s,” you shook your head, almost closing your eyes in delight as if you tasted the toast that moment but refrained because you were driving, “It’s so good.”

So what Harry secretly wished the ride was longer? He wanted to talk about French toast. That was definitely why.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure working with you.” Jeff said, “Thank you for the food.”

“It’s no problem.” You smiled at him, turning around to look at him once you were parked.

“I’ll wait for you in the car.” Jeff said, patting Harry’s shoulder before getting out of the car.

Harry took a breath, slapping his hands against his thighs, “Well, that was fun.”

You nodded, looking back at him with a bashful smile that you mentally scolded yourself for; why were you getting bashful?

“Is it alright if I take your number from Jeff?” Harry asked quickly, “Uh, so we can schedule meeting up for the sessions.” He quickly added, “The writing sessions.” He nearly cringed at his addition and he guessed you caught on because you giggled quietly before straightening your posture.

“Actually, Jeff has my business number. Maybe you can just, take my personal one so I can reply faster. You know, the sooner the better.” You cleared your throat, nodding to yourself.

Harry’s lips stretched into a side smile as he looked at you before he coughed and nodded, “Definitely. The sooner you reply, the sooner we meet. For the writing sessions.”

“Yeah and I can give you the lemon toast recipe.” You said before your eyebrows rose up, “For business purposes, of course.”

Harry’s smile widened at that, holding out his phone for you to take after he unlocked it. “I’d love that.”

You typed in your number before handing his phone back to him, watching as Harry glanced down at it before your phone began ringing, “And that’s mine.” He said, watching you unlock you phone and type before you locked it back.

“Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll text you.” He smiled before opening the door and standing out, ducking to look at you, “Next time, lunch is on me.” And with that, Harry gave you a wave before closing the door and walking away, only giving you a smile over your shoulder and another wave before getting into the car with Jeff.

After getting some snacks from the grocery’s with a shit-eating grin on your face, you drove back to your mom’s to pick Faith up.

You stood on the other side of your car, watching the door open before you saw Faith, her backpack on her back with her grandma standing behind her.

At the sight of her Mommy, Faith was quick to grin before running to you and into you arms as if she hadn’t seen you 4 hours ago.

You hugged your daughter, pressing a kiss to her hair as you did. “Did you have fun?”

Faith nodded before she pulled away from the hug, still keeping her arms around you, “What about you? Did you have fun, Mommy?”

You almost blushed as you remembered, opting to reply a simple reply instead of getting into details. “I did. Ready to go?”

After giving Faith a shower and giving yourself one, too, you and Faith were sat in the comfort of your cozy apartment, sitting on the couch and watching The Greatest Showman for the umpteenth time seen as it was Faith’s favorite. With her cheddar cheese and lettuce sandwich in her right hand and favorite dinosaur toy in the other – a “Megalosaurus not a T-Rex, Mommy” – Faith was cuddling into your side while one hand of yours played with her wild hair as the other tapped absentmindedly on your phone’s screen, eyes set on the television.

“And if it’s crazy, live a little crazy.” Faith sang along with Hugh Jackman, eyes wide as if she was seeing the movie for the first time.

“You can play it sensible, a king of conventional.” You joined her, peppering kisses on her cheek causing her to squeal and giggle.

As Faith sang along with the song, you opened your phone’s camera before switching it to video, flipping the camera so that it was the front one. You started recording, the screen showing you your face as you smiled with pride, tilting it so Faith was shown as she sang, unaware of you recording.

Only 12 seconds into the video, a message pop-up had your eyes traveling to it, falling on a text preview from none other than the young man you were with that day – Harry.

‘Hey, Y/N. Sorry to bother but would you be able to send me that lemon toast recipe? Might treat myself to it tomorrow morning. Sorry for the bother. :) Harry’

After stopping the video and opening the text and reading it, if it weren’t for Faith, you wouldn’t have known that you had a grin on your face.

“Why are you smiling so big? Did Auntie Cece send a picture of her cat?” She had asked, looking up at you with curiosity.

Looking down at her, you laughed slightly at yourself. “No, she didn’t.”

“You look happy.”

There were many things you loved about your daughter, many things you were in awe at. As only a kid, Faith was one of the most empathetic people in your life and that moment as you both cuddled on the couch was proof.

With a matching grin, Faith’s eyes twinkled with glee at the sight of her smiling mom, curious to know the reason.

“They aren’t singing This Is Me yet!” Faith added, knowing that the both of you usually laughed and giggled while singing that song, only because you always sang it so dramatically and at the top of your lungs.

“Just happy you’re finally done with the sandwich because now I can do this!” And with that, you tickled her, Faith breaking into laughter and giggles as she tried to stop you.

5 minutes later, Faith was back to watching the movie while you typed a reply.

‘hey, harry! it isn’t a bother 😊 i’ll write it down and send it in a moment :))’

‘Thank you! x’

And you wrote it down and sent it to him, adding little notes, too just to make sure that he perfected the toast.

‘let me know how that goes for you :) x’

‘Will do, love. Talk to you soon. Goodnight :) x’

‘goodnight, harry x’

As if your little love took that as a sign, you looked down at her as you felt her body grow heavier against you and noticed her breath get steady, seeing her eyes closed as she snoozed.

Carefully, you turned off the television before holding her with your arm so she didn’t fall down as you stood, bending to carry her before kneeling a little to grab her fallen dinosaur, letting out a tiny groan as your back ached.

Tucking her in her bed, you sat beside her for a moment, brushing her hair back softly before bending to kiss her forehead.

“Story?” She sleepily asked, struggling to open her eyes.

You chuckled, “You’re already asleep, nugget.”

She hummed, still struggling to open her eyes, “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled before standing up, walking towards her small vanity and turning on her star light lamp.

Just as you were out of the door, you lingered, turning to look back at your daughter, “Was I really smiling big?”

In her sleepy state, Faith managed to reply. “Very big, Mommy.”

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head before walking out and towards your own room.

Harry felt like a kid. He was too excited that morning to get up and get on with his breakfast, wanting to deny that it wasn’t because he wanted a reason to text you, but who was he trying to lie to? No one, he was alone.

He followed the recipe, chuckling and laughing to himself during some moments when he was about to fall for some mistakes before reading your notes and saving his toasts, as if you were sitting right there and monitoring him.

His playlist was playing from his phone that he held in his hand, and he was humming along as he placed the two toasts on a plate before adding some powdered sugar to them and grabbing his juice.

Before eating, Harry had taken his time in taking a picture of his breakfast, thankful for the natural light his kitchen window was giving for his little photoshoot.

He was just as much nervous as excited as he sliced up a piece before taking a bite, taking his time to taste his work and his eyebrows shot up and he blinked twice in surprise.

It was so good.

While eating another slice, Harry held his phone and opened his messages app, going to your contact.

Attaching the best picture from his breakfast photoshoot, he added a text with it,

‘Tastes incredible! Would have burned it to coal if it weren’t for your notes hahah x’

And he put his phone back on the table, open at your messages as he continued eating while listening to music.

He was mid-sip of his juice when you replied and Harry hated how excited he got because the next thing he knew, he was having a coughing fit that had him go tearful before finally calming down.

‘looks incredible, too! oh trust me, i know. burned a fair amount of toasts on my own so i decided to spare you the damage. you’re a quick learner :)) x’

That morning, you and Harry exchanged multiple texts, drifting from his breakfast to how you both wished to have dogs.

It was around 4 when you were driving back with Faith from her gymnastics practice when Harry called, thankfully just as you were unlocking the door to your apartment.

“Hey.” You smiled to yourself as you answered, taking off your shoes by the door beside Faith’s before closing the door behind you, watching as Faith went to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Hi,” Harry, too, was smiling to himself as he held the phone close to his ear, “I was walking around and I found this tiny restaurant that reminded me of where you took us yesterday and, apparently they make the best Italian pizza. Was wondering if you wanted to grab pizza with me and we can talk about, you know,” he chuckled, “The sessions.”

You thought, mind instantly going to who would watch Faith as you went before your eyes fell on your daughter who came back, whispering to you if she should wait for you in the bathroom seen as you were on the phone.

“One second,” you said to Harry before moving the phone from your ear and muting the sound, “Yeah, baby, do that. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You unmuted, “Hey, sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

He was growing nervous at how you were yet to reply to his suggestion, having already had been nervous enough to suggest and call in the first place.

“Pizza and talking sound lovely.”

He released a breath, smiling to himself. “Great, great! Pick you up at 6?”

“Sure, yeah. 6 is great. I’ll go now. See you soon, Harry.”

“See you soon, Y/N.”

You didn’t trust strangers to watch your daughter, didn’t exactly trust strangers in your house unattended, too. It’s why at times when you couldn’t drive the 40-minute drive to your mom’s, your best friend, Cece, was always your go-to and that was especially nice because she also lived two buildings away.

Cece’s job was one from her home, making food and delivering it to people while she managed her business on her own through social media and it was why most of the time, she was home and always happy to have her goddaughter keep her company.

After calling Cece to make sure she was okay with babysitting Faith for some time and her assuring you that she was, you prepared dinner for your daughter after giving her a shower.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving, baby?” You asked as you sat with Faith while she ate the pasta you made her.

It wasn’t frequent of you to leave Faith for anything but work. Maybe for a night out with some friends every now and then but you always went out with them for 3 hours tops before you began feeling guilty for leaving your daughter and going back to get her so you can spend time together instead.

And it wasn’t like you were frequently going on dates either. Cece had pushed you into it when Faith was 2, and you did go out a few times with different people, all whom you never heard of whenever they knew that you had a daughter and then you decided that maybe the single mom life was just too welcoming of you.

Hell, you didn’t know whether you should call having pizza with Harry a date. It wasn’t, was it? Not that you’d mind but it was for business, wasn’t it? Strictly business. Or maybe it wasn’t and that was fine by you- and now you were beginning to feel like a teenager again. Great.

“Mommy,” Your 4-year-old huffed, rolling her eyes, “I’m a big girl. You should have more fun.”

You couldn’t believe that you were getting advice from a 4-year-old, especially your daughter, but you deserved that.

“When did you get so big?” You rhetorically asked, “Thank you for being understanding, Nugget.”

Faith smiled at you, kicking her legs as she ate. “Where are you going?”

Now that question you weren’t prepared for, as much as you thought about it.

You couldn’t risk telling too much to Faith, knowing that she got excited over new people and couldn’t risk disappointing her if Harry ended up being, well, not one to stick or friendly to kids of single moms.

But at the same time, your daughter was your best friend. It was because of your honesty with her and how you acknowledge her and treat her that she was an understanding and empathetic person who could hold a conversation.

“Well, you know Harry Styles? The man who sings Canyon Moon?” You asked, knowing that that song was on her top favorite songs list after she had heard it once on the radio as you were driving her to her practice.

She nodded, “The pretty man with drawings?”

She had been curious to see the face behind her favorite song and once you showed her a picture, her smile got big and she had said that he was “very pretty” and had “nice drawings that she wanted to color in” meaning his tattoos.

You chuckled, “Yes, that one.” Again, Faith nodded. “Well, I’m helping him with his songs and I’m going to have dinner with him tonight.” You said, crossing your arms on the table.

Faith dropped her fork, looking at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, causing you to laugh heartfully at your daughter. “Mommy, really?!”

You nodded, opening your phone’s camera to record her, Faith not caring.

“Mommy you’re meeting Harry Styles!”

“I am,” you laughed, “Are you happy?”

“Very happy I’m going to cry!” She gasped, “Can I see him? Please, Mommy, please!”

“I don’t know, Nugget. I might have to ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” She frowned, “I can wear my Harry dress!”

And by her Harry dress, she meant the Fine Line black tee you had bought her, and even though it was sized small, she was only a toddler so you had resulted for her to wear it as a dress after you had trimmed it and its sleeves and had your mom fit it as tight as she could without damaging it. Needless to say, whenever your daughter wore the oversized tee dress, you had to snap multiple pictures of her because she always looked too adorable and fashionable in it.

“I don’t know what he’ll say but I’ll ask him. And yes, you can. You always look adorable in it.” You smiled, still recording her.

“Can you tell him I love his songs? I love Canyon Moon so much an-Oh! And Sunflower, too!” She grinned, “Are you going to show him this video?” Faith asked as she looked at you.

You shrugged, “You want me to?”

She nodded excitedly before looking at the camera, “Mr. Harry, I love you very much, sir. I hope I can see you but Mommy said she’ll ask you so please say yes. Make Mommy happy, not sad. Goodnight, sir.”

Your heart might have as well exploded that moment as she waved before you ended the video.

As if he was waiting for you to finish, your phone began ringing the moment you stopped recording, finding Harry calling you which made you instantly pick up the moment Faith began eating again.

“Hey, do you like strawberries?” He asked, the moment you picked up.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but a silly smile took over your face nonetheless, “Uh, yes?”

“Alright, great. I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

To make matters easier, once Harry had texted you that he was 2 minutes away, you grabbed your bag and left your apartment and into the elevator before walking outside your building, just in time to see a yellow Ferrari Dino pull up.

You smiled at him, watching as he parked before getting out, “Did I keep you waiting for long?” He asked as he approached you.

“No, just came down.” You answered, watching as he reluctantly slightly opened his arms. He was a hugger.

You wrapped your arms around him in a greeting hug, taking notice of how good he smelled. Just as good as he looked; he was in off-white textured knit Wales Bonner polo, paired with his Gucci flared denim pants and off-white Converse. Nobody should be allowed to look that good in casual clothes.

It wasn’t like Harry’s mind wasn’t doing flips at that moment, too. Instead of smelling like overpriced perfume, you smelled like coconut and roses; a refreshing smell that made Harry’s smile deepen enough for his dimple to make appearance. You, too, were in casual clothes; violet colored cropped culottes, a white tee tucked inside, white sneakers on, a black and white cross-bag and your hair was up in a messy ponytail that was kept by a hairband but you wrapped a black and white head bandana around the band just for the looks.

You looked effortlessly beautiful.

You both walked to his car, Harry opening the door for you before grabbing something from the passenger seat before you sat – a bouquet of strawberries.

“Didn’t know what type of flowers you like so,” he said before extending the bouquet towards you with sweetest and giddiest smile, “Hope that’s okay.”

You almost melted, your face changing to a pout as your head tilted to look at him while you accepted the bouquet, “This is so nice of you. Thank you, I love it.”

Alright so you don’t get strawberry bouquets to people you aren’t going on dates with, right?

The ride to the little pizzeria was nice – comfortably nice. You had shared the strawberries there and your stomach did a thousand flips when you offered Harry one only to have him open his mouth,

“I’m driving.”

And then he opened his mouth again, biting the strawberry you offered with your hand, laughing when it was about to drip on him if it weren’t for your fast reflexes – thank motherhood for that – as you held out your other hand beneath his chin.

By sharing strawberries, you mean you ate some as well as fed Harry some.

You both mentally took notice of how conversations flowed so effortlessly between you, as if you had met years ago and not just a day. Hell, even the texts were random and messy as well as entertaining and fun.

The drive wasn’t a long one, only about 20 minutes before Harry was parking in front of a place called ‘La Pizza’.

You both went outside the car, you waiting for Harry by your side as he walked towards you.

You might as well have melted right there and then when you felt Harry’s hand, very gently, on your back. It was very gentle, you almost didn’t notice and you felt that he was just making sure that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable but it was a reflex action of his. Nonetheless, you appreciated the concern and decided to show him that it was okay to touch you when you touched his arm as you both walked through the door.

Harry gulped, feeling hot as you touched him and he almost scolded himself because it only lasted for a second, yet there he was, getting flustered already. What the fuck was going on with him?

A waitress greeted the both of you, smiling widely as she motioned for you to follow her inside the place.

“There are more tables on the roof, would you want to check that?”

Harry looked at you the same moment you did at him, both of you nodding to each other to say that you wouldn’t mind.

“That would be great, thank you.” Harry said, smiling politely at the waitress who nodded and walked in front of you with the both of you following her up the stairs, Harry’s hand now more comfortably on your back as he walked behind you.

The roof was beautiful; cliché but beautiful fairy lights of small globe bulbs hung above the place, only 3 tables there, each at a good amount of distance from each other.

“Would you want to sit here or downstairs?”

Harry looked at you, you giving him a nod. “Here would be fine.”

The waitress nodded before guiding you towards a 2-chaired table. Harry had sat you down first before moving to his chair.

“Thank you.” You both said in unison as the waiter placed 2 menus in front of the both of you.

“I’ll be back to take your orders.” She smiled before leaving.

“Looks good.” You smiled at him before looking down at the menu.

“Didn’t know they had a roof.” Harry said, “This saved me.” He chuckled.

You looked up with confusion, “Saved you from what?”

Harry shrugged, now growing nervous. “Uh, wasn’t sure if taking you out for the first time here was chivalrous enough because it felt too casual, like a friends thing and not a date but now here seems right.”

He wished the ground he was on would split and swallow him whole. Wished to crawl up a hole and cry.

There were things he was practicing on on the way to you; like how he would hide that he was a nervous wreck, how he was excited to spend time with you, how he knew almost every single song you worked on, and finally, how he wouldn’t spill that he thought that was a date, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

You were amused. Contrary to how Harry truly felt, you thought it was nice that he was straightforward.

“Figured this wasn’t too casual the moment you gave me the strawberry bouquet, Harry.” You smiled, assuring him that you were okay with this being a date.

Looks like it wasn’t business after all.

Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “That was nice, wasn’t it?”

You laughed, “Yes. Don’t think I was ever given a bouquet of fruit so yeah. Really nice.”

You both went through the menu, commenting on some plates and ingredients as you did and contemplating together.

“Maybe we should just get two pizzas and share, so we can try more than one option.” You suggested.

“Good idea.” He agreed, “What do you think of Quattro Formaggi?”

“Ooo, yes.” You then pointed on another topping, “Pizza Melanzane?”

“Yes.” Harry closed his menu with a nod.

Shortly after, your waitress came back and took your order before leaving.

“Finished a song yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as you took a sip of water before putting the glass back down, “Really?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. A new one.”

“You mean you wrote a new one? Not finished writing one you already had?”

Again, he nodded, putting his arms on the table. “New. Very much new.”

You grinned at him, “That’s amazing. What is it about?”

Alright maybe he didn’t think that one through. He did write a song the previous night and he was proud of it and his gut did tell him that it would make it to the list of his next album, but telling you about it on your first – and he hoped it wasn’t the last – date? Well, not so ideal.

“It’s about opening up to someone new. Trying love again and unraveling yourself to the other person.”

Maybe it was because of your situation, but your breath hitched in your throat.

“You know when you get fucked from an ex and love as whole and you think that you don’t want to go through that again and you, like, close off,” Harry explained, “And it’s like you’re immune to feeling any sort of love or interest in anyone after that. Sure, maybe some sexual attraction here and there, but never something wholesome, you know?” He motioned with one of his rings clad hands as he talked, “But then you meet someone and you feel like a teenager or something,” he chuckled, “And it’s a nice feeling, it’s wonderful, that you start thinking that, hey,” he tilted his head, “Maybe I can do this again.”

You were speechless.

You were a woman of words, hell, you worked with words, but right then, you barely remembered the alphabets.

“You- You get me, right?” Harry asked.

You broke out of your trance, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, yeah, I,” you paused, an airy chuckle leaving your throat, “Man do I get you.”

He smiled in amusement, “Relatable?”

“Too much, you had me by surprise.” You answered honestly, releasing a breath.

It wasn’t a surprise to Harry that somebody broke your heart; it was always the good ones who got their hearts broken and got fucked over, always the givers.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling of shock at who would possibly have you at arm’s length, with the ability to kiss and cuddle you, and decide to break your heart?

See, maybe Harry had just met you but you know when you meet someone good. Someone kind. Especially when you’re in an industry that is full of shitty people and too many cold snobs.

“When was it?”

You understood his question, understanding that he meant to ask you about when your heart got broken – when somebody fucked you over.

“5 years ago.” You answered, “You?”

“2.”

“Cheers.” You joked, raising your glass of water to clink it to his, chuckling when he did clink them.

“5 years is a long time.” He commented, gentle with his tone as were his eyes.

“It is,” you agreed, “Got over him, really.”

“You met someone after?”

His question made you think again of your answer, causing you to giggle before correcting yourself, “Got over him as a person but not over the whole thing.”

Harry chuckled, “So no.”

You shook your head, “No. Didn’t have the heart to.” And even though your sentence carried double meanings, you took a mental note of that same sentence just for future songwriting sessions. “What about you? Met anyone after it?”

“Not really,” he shook his head, “Friends set me up with some people but it never went further than a day.”

“You don’t click?”

“No,” Harry answered before a small smile made its way to his face, “I didn’t.”

Your face grew hot, breaking eye contact to glance beside you for a moment.

“How long did it take to write that song yesterday?” You asked, turning back to look at him, growing more flustered to see that he was already looking at you with the same smile.

“Think 25 minutes.”

Your eyes widened, “Inspiration really did hit you, Harry, huh?”

“Grabbed the journal and guitar and I just ran to the studio at home, and it just,” he shrugged, “Happened.”

“Let it keep hitting you like that and we won’t be working together.” You said with a smirk.

“Then I’ll purposely distract myself whenever it hits me so I can see you.” Harry was quick to reply, a smug smile of his own on his face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered under your breath, shaking your head as you covered your face, hearing Harry laugh before feeling his hands on yours, guiding them down.

Shortly after, your waitress was back with your orders; both pizzas looking mouthwatering.

You and Harry decided against utensils, exchanging slices with your hands and granted, as Harry had said, they did make the best Italian pizza.

After the pizza and paying, you and Harry had grabbed ice cream from the parlor right next to the pizzeria before sitting in the car, remaining parked as you laughed about everything and anything.

“And I had no idea that Paul McCartney was right behind me the entire time. It was awful!” You finished, laughing more at how hard Harry was laughing at your story.

“Would’ve changed my name and moved out of this planet if I were you.” He teased you as he regained his breath.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

Harry laughed, reaching out to place a hand on yours, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Embarrassing shit happens to me everyday, too. On stage is the worst.”

You tried to ignore the tingly feeling that rushed within you at his hand over yours, but good heavens, you were a goner. “The falls?”

“At some point I thought it was good my tour got postponed because I see myself falling during most of the songs. Imagine Watermelon Sugar, I’d be a clown.”

You laughed, “Probably so,” you teased him, batting your eyelashes jokingly when he feigned shock, “But really, you’re an amazing performer. I actually have been to one of your shows once.”

Harry’s eyes widened and as did his smile, “No way.”

You nodded, “The one in Glasgow in November.”

“You’re telling me that we were in the same room and-“ Harry paused, shaking his heads as he let out a chuckle of disbelief, “Wow. Alright. Did you have anyone with you?”

“Was just me and Faith.” You answered nonchalantly, only realizing once you did before your looked intently at Harry.

“Is that a best friend?” He asked, “Did they enjoy the show?”

“She did, yeah. Very actually,” You chuckled, remember how surprised you were at how 2-year-old Faith at the time was actually very interested and was dancing in your arms the entire time. “And she is my best friend at some point but she’s my daughter.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting but you definitely weren’t expecting Harry to grin excitedly.

“You have a daughter?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, a small smile on your face as you inspected him, “I do. She turns 5 in December.”

Harry only seemed to get more excited at the news, which made your heart flutter at the sight of.

“Do you have a picture?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled more then, eager to show him your beautiful girl before unlocking your phone and opening your photos album, only to find the most recent addition to it – the video. “Hey, actually, she wanted me to show you something.”

You gave Harry the phone to watch better, most of the time keeping your eyes on him. Harry’s cheeks sported a shade of red at how highly your daughter spoke of him, laughing and giggling to himself as he watched.

“Nooo, I won’t say no. I’d love to meet her.” He cooed, continuing to watch.

As the video ended, Harry handed you back the phone, “Please let me meet her. And what’s that Harry dress?”

And so you told him about your adventure with the tee, to which his heart seemed to grow a thousand times more at.

“I wasn’t aware kids loved me, I’m sorry you couldn’t find her size.” Harry frowned, feeling genuinely bad.

“Hey, no,” you assured him, putting your other hand on his – that was still resting on yours – “Don’t worry about it. You don’t exactly sing the alphabetics, Mr. sex-inspired-my-last-album-and-I-made-it-on-shrooms.”

Harry giggled, shrugging at you.

You both talked some more, only about Faith. Harry’s eyes were wide with admiration when you told him about how you raised her alone – also assured when he realized that the father wasn’t exactly in the picture even though his heart broke at that – and he showered you with compliments of how brave you were to raise a kid alone.

“Think I should head back now. I still need to pick Faye up from my best friend’s.” You said, leaning your head on the headrest as your body was turned towards Harry, his hand sandwiched between yours on your thigh.

“Can I help?” He asked, “Only if that’s okay. I don’t want to be crossing my limits.”

Your eyes searched his, growing emotional at the man in front of you. “Are you sure?”

Again with the double meanings.

That time, Harry noticed, his face softening as he looked back at you. Softly and ever-so-gently, he leaned to press a soft kiss on your cheek, “I’m sure.”

As he drove, you and Harry held hands on your thigh, the both of you singing along to Fleetwood Mac on your way.

As you gave Harry directions, he was absentmindedly rubbing your hand with his thumb. If you would have told him that he was doing that, he would have denied it; not because he wanted to deny it, but because it felt too natural that he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“Right here.” You pointed at a building, “She’s two buildings away. You can go, it’s a short walk.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” Harry said, parking before turning to look at you.

“Harry, seriously, you can leave if you want. I’m right there.” You pointed at your building.

“Nonsense, love. I’ll wait here.”

You sighed in contentment, giving his hand a squeeze before getting out of the car and into the building.

“Why did you not tell me that you were on a date with Harry fucking Styles?” Cece whisper shouted as soon as she opened the door, “Knew from Faith, you shit.”

“Because you’d overr-“

“He could be the one!”

“-react. You’d overreact and plan our wedding.” You teased your best friend, “Where’s Faye?”

“Won’t you come in for a drink?” She asked before turning, “Faith, it’s your mom!”

“Can’t. Uh,” you cleared your throat, “Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Some- No fucking way!” She exclaimed, muttering a “sorry” when you hushed her, “He-Harry is downstairs? Are you shitting me?” Cece excitedly asked.

You couldn’t stifle the smile on your face as you nodded.

Cece was about to talk some more before Faith appeared beside her, her backpack hung on one shoulder as she rubbed her eyes.

You knelt down, hugging her. “Hey, Nugget. You sleepy?”

Faith only nodded, wrapping her arms around you as you carried her, feeling her rest her head on your shoulder and you instantly knew that she slept.

“I’ll text you, alright?” You whispered to Cece.

“You better.”

Carrying Faith as well as having her backpack in one hand, once Harry saw you, he was out of the car and rushing towards you, taking the bag from your hand.

“Thank you.” You smiled thankfully, noticing how he walked beside you and guided you to the car, opening the door for you and sleeping Faith before closing it as gently as he could.

The lack of backseats made Harry place the purple backpack on his lap as he drove towards your building, a seconds drive.

He stopped the car and was out of his seat the moment he parked, slinging the bag on his shoulder before helping you out, taking your bag for you, to which you quietly thanked him for.

“Um, you can place the bags on my shoulders or something.”

“I can help you upstairs, come on. It’s no problem.”

You knew he was set on it and you let him, mostly because of how surprised you were that there were people who didn’t cringe and run the moment they knew the other person had a kid.

Harry did all the work; opened the building’s door for you, pressed for the elevator, pressed your floor number and had even taken out your keys once you told him to to unlock the door.

“Come in, come in.” You whispered.

Unsure of what to do, Harry walked inside and mirrored your actions by taking off his shoes before lingering.

“You can follow me.” You whispered again, turning around for a moment to look at him with a smile.

A quick take of the apartment was what Harry could do as he followed you, feeling an emotion of comfort and coziness engulf him as he did.

You were never less thankful for yourself for every time you changed Faith into pajamas before taking her to Cece’s, because it only made the process of tucking her in easier.

Harry had helped you by moving the covers so you could place Faith in bed before he stepped back, letting you tuck her in.

He smiled, watching how you seemed to shift around her or even when you just talked about her, like she was the most important person in your life and he knew that she was exactly that.

Faith was beautiful, and more often than not, you were glad that she got most of your looks and not her biological father’s because it only meant that he really was out of your life.

Harry noticed it, too. She had your nose, your lips, your facial outline, and your hair color. And from what he had seen in the video from when Faith was awake, she had your eye color.

You placed a kiss to her forehead before turning around, your eyes falling on Harry whose eyes were set on Faith with a ghost of a smile on his face.

His eyes came up to you and you noticed that he was still holding on to Faith’s backpack and was wearing your crossbag across his own chest.

You smiled as you grabbed the backpack from him and putting it aside on the floor before looking at him.

The only light in the room was from the hallway, making the room dimmed and making the both of you in a much more sentimental moment.

“They usually run away when they find about Faith.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “Now is your cue.”

Harry’s eyes were on yours until they glanced at your lips, and butterflies erupted in your stomach at that.

“Thank God I’m not one of them, then.” He replied gently in a low whisper before he leaned closer, shamelessly looking at your lips.

It was you who took the final step, closing the minimal space between you by placing your lips on his.

His hands went to your waist as yours went to his neck, feeling him kiss you back softly but eagerly before pulling away from less than a second to tilt his head, getting a better angle before his lips were back on yours.

“Mommy?”

Pt. 2

#THE LONGEST I HAVE EVER WRITTEN #AAA WHAT DO YOU THINK #wellbeafinelime #Not One of Them #NOOT #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #fluff #fluff one shot #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles fluff #single parent!reader #single parent reader

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mindofharry · 4 years

Text

in which you’re acting in olivia’s wilde’s new movie and harry happens to be a big fan.

SO EXCITED FOR YALL TO READ THIS!!! :D feedback is welcome as always <3

fluff!!!! and just a lot of stuff about hollywood and the industry etc!!

You remember being eighteen and getting your first acting job on a big series. The most popular series on netflix at the time. You were so young and so new but you couldn’t let this offer go, so you took it and it was the best decision you ever made. It started you career and you ended with a job you love and are so very passionate about.

Soon enough the show decided that they would do one final season, you were 20 and had only done two movies since then. They were good movies but there was nothing much to them, you were just the best friend in them and nothing more.

When the job the series ended your agents were looking high and low for auditions and ideas etc. Everything was going pretty well, you had secured a place on a movie (again only a best friend) and you were pretty confident with what the future was going to hold. Doing that movie, that you thought you would only be a side character - was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You were praised for your role in the drama, and ended wining awards you never could even dream about. You also picked up a lot of lifelong friends.

Things were going so well. You had auditions and managers wanting you from every corner of the states, directors and producers calling up your agents. You felt as if nothing could stop you or get in your way.

Then COVID struck.

You were so grateful that you had a roof over your head and friends living with you in such a depressing and emotional time, but you couldn’t help but be upset. You were so excited for your career to finally take off and for you to get properly working.

But you just had to make do with what you had. You were in lots of lives on instagrams and still did lots of press for you latest movie and tv series. Although it was basically just the same questions, but you had something to keep you busy.

***

“Now don’t get too excited, but i got you an audition for a movie olivia wilde is directing” Alexia, your agent and bestfriend said over the phone. You grabbed your other friend, Danny, arm grinning at his confused expression.

“I love you so much, y’know that” you say listening to laugh alexia let out.

“I said don’t get too excited, but i think you’ve got this. just do your usual set up and clean face and hair out of your face ok?”

You nod and then answer back with a quick yes and a goodbye before hanging up and squealing. “i’ve got an audition for an olivia wilde movie” you yell making danny stand up and bring you into a hug.

“Fuck yes!” he yelled and then suddenly he stopped looking you dead in the eye. “This is the first time i’ll see you in your zone, Ms Emmy award winning actress” he teased making you hit him with a soft smile.

“You’re gonna have to help me dan, like read my script out when i get it. And help me set up lighting and shit”

“Sounds important, you sure you don’t want sara to help you with that?” he asked referring to his sister, and your partner in crime. You had all been friends since middle school all living in the same neighbourhood and going to the same school.

You were together through everything.

When sara got denied from her top college, when danny came out as bisexual, when your mom had died. Of course you had fights, like every friend. But you always came back to eachother. Sara and danny stayed with you when you were done with acting, when your mom had died very suddenly, when your dad lost contact with you and your brother. They were really the best friends you could ever ask for. You were so grateful.

“Should be ok, will probably need sara’s opinion seen as shes a film major. But it’s pretty easy stuff dan” you insisted picking up your laptop from the couch and opening it up.

Danny nodded and sat beside you placing an around your shoulder.

“i think you’ll get it. don’t know what it’s about, but you’re definitely fit for an olivia wilde movie”

You grin at him and open up your email to see alexia has sent you some lines to record.

“i’m going to go over these a bit, but i’ll let you know when i need you”

***

Danny and sara helped you with the audition tape and calmed your nerves and frustrations. Usually your anxiety is high when waiting for a call back, but now with covid and not getting the work you want it’s beginning to get a little worse. But you had your best friends there to guide you through it.

Weeks went on and no news came and honestly you forgot all about it moving onto different projects and stuff for 2022.

Then you got a call.

“y/n. you got the part”

And with that, you, danny and sara celebrated. You were beyond grateful and couldn’t believe you had gotten work — let alone with olivia wilde.

A bottle of wine and chinese takeout was the best you guys were going to get, but you didn’t complain one bit. Love island was on in the background while danny painted your nails and sara did your hair. “I can’t believe i’m going to be working along side olivia fucking wilde” you squealed making danny laugh and sara pull your hair. You yelped. “Olivia wilde gets to work along side Y/N fucking L/N” she corrected earning a couple of laughs out of you and danny. You guys celebrated anything and everything, it was like your tradition.

Danny got a haircut - celebration. sara finished editing that video that she had in the background for a good morning - celebration. you finally getting rid of those horrible earrings - celebration.

it was also an excuse to order unhealthy amounts of takeout.

“y’know i feel good about this”

Danny nodded putting the nail polish on the coffee table. “i can see that. look more confident” he added sara agreeing with him.

“just don’t forget about us when you get to go to the met gala. you’ve already done one hit movie, let’s hope this this another”

***

The script you received was absolutely amazing.

you couldn’t explain it, how it made you feel. You just couldn’t wait to play this character - although it was very different to your last character, you still felt so connected to it. A thriller was something you could never see yourself in, even now you have a hard time believing you’re going to be in one. And the amount of sex scenes thats in it, it did get you a little excited, albeit you were a tiny bit nervous.

“Harry styles” Alexia said over zoom, you grinned and danced around your sitting room.

“What are you dancing about?” danny asked putting the groceries on the counter.

“i’m gonna be having pretend sex with harry fucking styles!” you yelled making alexia cackle and danny dance around the room with you. “this is definitely something to celebrate. i’ll get the wine!” danny said dancing his way to the kitchen.

“well i’m glad you’re not shy. Olivia said harrys quite nervous about it all. obviously he was in dunkirk, but this is his first proper movie” she said making you nod “i know you’ll make him feel comfortable, but you are so confident so please don’t scare him off” alexia teased making you pout.

“i can’t help it. but i’ll make him a gift basket or something” you shrugged and alexia smiled.

“this is why i love you”

“ok so, harry styles, olivia wilde and y/n l/n in one movie?” sara asked making you smile as danny cheered. “my baby is making me so proud” sara cried dragging you up off the floor and spinning you around. you giggled and poured.

“i love you guys so much, y’know that?” you say putting an arm around both of their shoulders.

“eh, we love you too” sara said shrugging her shoulders.

“eh? shut the fuck up. say you love me like you mean it” you say tickling them. “ok! we love you, so much” danny yelled making you stop and put your hands on your hips.

“good to know”

And so the days went by you video chatting with olivia and the other producers. Making sure to check in with everyone as well. Olivia was the sweetest person ever, she called to just talk or to go over any queries or notes you had. She was honestly such a genuine person and you were glad you got to work with someone so kind.

Today was the day you would be meeting some of the cast and producers etc. You hadn’t really seen anyone other than alexis, sara and danny so you were excited.

You’re an outgoing, extroverted person so covid really hit you hard. You get bored easily too, so you really needed this lunch.

Deciding to dress up a little, you put on your favourite flare jeans and white tank top. You tucked it in and placed your red cardigan over it. And obviously your go to shoes were your white converse — your feet haven’t grown since high school, so you call these converse your lucky converse since you’ve worn them at every event. even at a red carpet!

Placing your hair in a braid, you did some natural looking makeup and then placed your rings on your fingers. “I’m going now, sara!” you called out only earning a groan — she had been working late last night so there was no seeing her until at least 2:30.

Danny was out on a hike clearing his energy or some shit he read online.

You were a bit nervous to drive there as you had only gotten your license recently, usually sara insists on driving everyone apparently it’s therapeutic, you’re in actual hell while driving. luckily the restaurant is only 10 minutes drive, so hopefully you make it there alive. you didn’t know how many people would be there, with covid and all you didn’t really know what to expect. You knew olivia would be there, and probably harry too. Which weirdly enough you weren’t too nervous about.

you had made a post on instagram about being excited to work with olivia and harry and the many other amazing people - and the harry fans of course went crazy. But overall everyone took the news really well.

When you arrived at the restaurant there were a few paps, probably there for harry and not expecting you. You’re a new popular actress, so this would make the paparazzi a lot of money. Once word got out that Y/N L/N and harry styles were having lunch together it would probably end it mayhem.

“y/n! over here!” a voice called out as you walked into the restaurant.

You smiled as you saw olivia wave at you. “ah! i’m so sorry i’m late” you say and olivia shook her head bringing you into a hug. “don’t worry about it! we’ve ordered some drinks, got you a coke” she said.

“i’m harry” a deep voice said from behind you, making you look around and see - harry fucking styles - introducing himself to you.

“i know who you are!” you giggled pulling him into a hug, which he obviously didn’t expect, but took it anyways. “i’m y/n” you say pulling back and sitting down infront him crossing your legs.

“i know who you are too” he blushed making you laugh again.

“you’re vegan, right?” you asked and he nodded “yeah, have been for a while. trying hard to stay somewhat healthy over quarantine” he said sipping on his water.

“well, i get a takeout probably two times a week and haven’t been to a gym in, i’d say 5 years”

Harry laughed loudly, making you laugh too. Olivia and the producers gave each other knowing smiles. They really hit the jackpot with this one.

***

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought” you mumbled as you got your first covid test done. It was very uncomfortable to say the least, but it didn’t hurt and you didn’t pass out so that was a plus.

you were going to start working next thursday, if everything goes to plan. If someone has covid then they obviously have to push it back.

You were so excited to get to work, it wouldn’t be like any other set you’d worked on. But you had a feeling it was going to be one you’ll remember forever.

“how was it?” danny asked as you got back in the car.

“better than expected. uncomfortable, but ok” you mumbled sitting back in the seat. Danny noticed how tired you were so he turned off the music and put down your window a little and let you sleep the whole journey home. You had been at all hours going over your script. This is what happened with you last role, and it was just the way you worked.

By the time you go on set you had everyone’s lines memorised.

The days went by slowly. It was actually quite painful. But your covid results came and you were negative and so was everyone else on the set and in your household. So you could finally get into work.

You were driven to work on thursday by a very nice man called john. He talked non stop, but it was nice to get to talk to some other than sara, danny and your agents.

“Have a good day john” you called out stepping out of the car your new pink mask adorning your face.

you had to get bangs the other day — you never heard the fucking end of it off of danny and sara. you had bangs in high school, along with some really badly done piercings and you told yourself never again. Of course the bangs looked good, they were amazing and you actually suited them this time. But that didn’t stop sara taking out all of the pictures of your freshman year and making you do a side by side for her instagram.

“you look tired” a voice called making you turn around a stick up the middle finger. You recognised the voice immediately, harry styles. He laughed coming beside you in his white vote shirt and tracksuit bottoms.

“i have to go and get my tattooes covered now” you sighed placing your phone in your tote bag, harry nodded “me too, the only time i’ll ever hate getting these tattoos”

“y’know i like them. the tattoos, they suit you” you say opening up the trailer door. harry stopped and smirked “hmm. see you later”

Covering up the tattoos didn’t take as long as you thought. The makeup and hair took a good hour and was painful with the mask - you did nearly pass out from the heat, but luckily harry stopped by with a cup of tea just in time.

God.

That man was something else. Seen as he’s never properly done this before, you thought he’d be full of first day jitters. But no, he’s going trailer to trailer, with tea’s and coffees.

“you nearly ready? we have our first scene soon” harry said leaning against the trailer door. All of you were practically ordered to wear a coat to cover the clothes as some paps had been spotted. It was a rather cold day so it didn’t make a difference to you.

“eager?”

He nodded holding your hand helping you down the steps of the trailer — heels were a real bitch you decided.

“paps and heel are assholes” you say making harry laugh. “you can say that again” he said dropping your hand and walking beside you.

You wanted him to hold your hand.

“don’t worry, i’ll go easy on you” you tease getting a pinch in return.

“more like the other way”

“yeah, christopher nolan movie ey? proper actor”

Harry rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face placing an arm around your shoulder.

“come on, wife.”

***

The days were long and some days were hard. But harry made everything so much better. Hugging you when you needed it, joking when you needed a laugh. There was paparazzi pictures of harry speaking and you laughing - which was a horrible cackle that made harry laugh. The fans were going crazy for you guys, and you were both asked constantly on whether there could be something more going on with you two.

“Another headline, H”

Harry shook his head with a small smile, placing the chinese onto the plate.

“your first drama headline, i’m so proud” Danny said placing an arm around you. Danny, sara you and now harry had decided to celebrate the first two weeks of filming and now apparently your first drama headline. Something about harry joining in all your tradition and not complaining about the awful food or very obnoxious and rude chats that go in, makes you soft and weirdly enough besotted.

“oh shut up, i’ll tell the paps that i’m dating you again. they’ll never leave you alone” you warn and danny backed off.

“again?” harry asked laughing slightly and passing you the plate full of food.

“everytime danny’s mean to me i tell the paps that we’re dating, even told one i was pregnant and that he didn’t want the baby”

“fuck off. remind me to never get on your badside” harry cackled sitting down beside you his food on the coffee table and his wine in the other. He had, had a good few drinks before hand too — he said “it’s my cheat night”.

Soon enough danny and sara went off to bed, not before danny teased you about how in love you and harry are. “oi! fuck off” harry yelled making danny squeal.

“please chase after me, daddy” danny said running down the hall.

“don’t humour him” you giggled sipping out of your wine glass.

“i’m in love with your friends” he said pausing to take a big gulp of his wine. “they’re just so genuine” he finished leaning back and placing a pillow on his lap. you nodded in agreement.

“we’ve been friends for years, before any of us were like somewhat famous”

“y’know i’ve seen your first movie about 100 hundred times” harry admitted making you flush. “shut up. you’re talking out of your ass” you say taking his wine glass away and pausing netflix.

“i’m serious. had a proper crush on you too” he laughed shaking his head.

“i don’t know if you remember, but i think it was a teens choice awards. and you had gone on stage to get an award and i helped you up the stairs thinking you had heels on” he said and you remember it vividly now.

“oh shit yeah! no, i wore my lucky converse. they’re pretty cool too”

“i think youre pretty” harry whispered moving closer to you. you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from squealing.

“hmmm. ok mr styles”

Before you could come up with another joke harry placed his lips on yours. You didn’t even hesitate in kissing him back, your hands flying to his hair. He moaned at the feeling of you tugging on it.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that for” harry said slightly out of breath.

“don’t worry, darling” you paused.

“me too”

#AHH #hope you like!!!! ☺️#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #asks #requests #imagines #fic #fics #fanfic

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poodlejoonas · 3 years

Text

Joonas - A Hero’s Welcome

For @bcfanweek Day 3: Joonas Porko

Words: 1,431

Description: You meet the band at the airport, and you decide that you and Joonas need a date night in.

Notes: Joonas Porko/Reader (gender unspecified)

You stood in the airport arrivals terminal, watching the flight data tick onto the screen. The boys were going to be home any time now, and you were itching to see Joonas again. Your shared bed was far too empty for it to be comfortable. It was an absolute joy to watch him live it up on TV, but now you were ready to have him back.

You knew just how much it meant to Joonas, and the rest of the band, to have the opportunity to perform for such a large international audience. They’d been itching to go back on stage since the beginning of the pandemic, and their song was bad ass on top of it all. He called you once a day to update you on all the crazy things that had been happening in Rotterdam. He seemed to be having a good time, and there was nothing you wanted more than the chance to go with him. But thanks to COVID, you stayed home and watched the contest on TV, cheering for them every time they were on screen.

You kept the house comfortable for Joonas for his big return home. You knew that he would be undoubtedly exhausted, but you kept a trick or two up your sleeve. The entire place was spotless and his favorite comfort blanket had been washed and dried that morning. It wasn’t much, but it was a nice treat for him.

No surprise, but you were not the only one eager to greet the band at the airport. Several fans lined up on the side, and there were newspaper cameras everywhere. You could barely see the entrance, but you knew when they walked in by the commotion blowing up.

Niko, always the hype man, riled them up with his hands the same way he did during their performance of Dark Side. Joel followed next, running through with a little bit of a bounce in his step. You patiently waited until you could see Joonas, who greeted the waiting crowd but looked around for you. A smile lit up on his face when he could see your hand waving above the crowd.

Until he could join you, he gave a few answers to some on-the-spot interview questions. They greeted the crowd, who soon dispersed and went their separate ways. You waited at Starbucks, sipping your iced coffee and guarding Joonas’ drink. You were so deep into your phone that you barely noticed him walking up and nearly knocking you over in a hug.

“I missed you so much, kulta,” he shouted, probably because he thought he wasn’t loud enough through his mask. The rest of the group followed him while he sipped his drink and thanked you kindly for ordering it for him.

“Thank God you’re here, he refused to shut the hell up about seeing you again,” Joel said with a laugh. They’ve been friends long enough for you to know that there was nothing but teasing behind that statement.

You gathered your things and followed them out of the airport. Joonas grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers in yours, and began swinging your arms with glee. He’s an affectionate man, but you didn’t realize that he was this attached to you. Either he wanted cuddles or sex, and you knew that you were in for a long night regardless of the option.

Everyone began to pile in their separate cars and discuss plans for meeting again in the studio on Tuesday morning. You silently complained; such a long week behind them, and they couldn’t even take a break to recover? But it was understandable that there was so much energy to follow up on, and none of it should have been wasted.

You cranked up your car as he opened the door, still talking to Joel who chatted on and on about their studio plans. You wanted to get him home so you could begin your stay-in date night together.

Finally, he closed his door and returned his attention to you. With a smile on his face, he cupped your face with both hands and gave you a soft kiss. “I really did miss you, so much. How have things been at the house?”

The airport traffic died down a bit, just long enough to get you safely on the road. “Lonely, no surprise,” you laughed. “But I have a couple surprises for you to make it nice and cozy.”

Joonas smiled and looked out the window. “I can’t wait. I had just started getting homesick.”

“Even through all of that partying?”

“Yes, even then.” It looked like Joonas had an amazing time with his boys, but you couldn’t be happier to have him back.

You arrived home after a short drive through light traffic. You offered to help Joonas take his bags inside, but he adamantly refused, insisting on doing it all himself. He rushed inside and you smiled, eager to see his reaction.

He dropped his bags and took a deep breath. “It smells great in here,” he commented. “Did you do something different?”

“I cleaned the whole place. It wasn’t bad, but I thought you’d like that it feels fresher in here.” You also lit some lavender and vanilla candles to leave a fresh, comforting smell for both of you to relax.

Without another word, he grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. “It’s lovely, thank you so much.”

He made his way towards your shared bedroom, where another surprise awaited him. While he was away, you decided to treat yourself to a day at the mall. There, you found two pairs of fleece pajamas - one in your favorite color for yourself, and one in black for him. The fabric was impossibly soft and relatively inexpensive for their quality. You decided it would be perfect for a lazy night in.

Joonas picked up the bundled pajamas and ran his fingers over them with a smile. “Matching pajamas, really?” he said with a laugh, but he gratefully scooped you up in a hug. He ran off to take a shower, and while he was away, you placed a delivery order for a pizza and sat down in the living room. You barely even noticed Joonas was finished with his shower until he came springing into the room with his new pajamas on. They were a little smaller on him than you thought, but the few tight spots hugged his body adorably.

You went to take a shower yourself so you could be clean and matching together. He waited patiently in the living room and smiled from ear to ear when you came back. “How do I look?” you asked him, to which he only replied with a chef’s-kiss motion.

The only thoughts on your mind right now were pizza, a double-feature movie night, and cuddles with Joonas. Once the pizza arrived, you started with his movie choice, Captain America: Civil War. Normally he would love to babble on about trivia on his favorite movies, but he was too preoccupied with his half of the pizza to say anything. His movie finished and you took a 15 minute break before starting the next one.

You chose a classic musical-comedy from the 1930s, a much different beat from a recent action flick. It took place on a cross-Atlantic cruise from Italy, about two aspiring opera singers in love and three madcap opera house employees who help them get into their first show in America. You were lucky enough to find a version of it with accurate Finnish subtitles for Joonas because even you thought the 30s slang was sometimes hard to understand.

This time, popcorn and hot cocoa were involved. Joonas was in the middle of a sip when he coughed some of it up laughing at a joke in the movie. “I’m okay!” he managed to mutter, checking to be sure that he didn’t spill cocoa on his new pajamas.

“Be careful, love!” Once his cocoa situation was over, he sat back and buried his head on your shoulder. One hand mindlessly went up to his hair to play with his curls that were finally dried from his shower earlier. Joonas has such a beautiful head of hair, and you hoped that he would never cut it again.

“Kulta, keep playing with my hair like that and I might fall asleep.” He sounded half-asleep already. Even if he fell asleep during your movie choice, you understood why. He worked so hard last week, and he deserved all the rest and relaxation he could get.

Endnotes:

In case anyone’s curious, the second movie mentioned is A Night at the Opera (1935), starring the Marx Brothers. I picked it because it was the first movie that came to mind and I know almost every word to it.

#blind channel #joonas porko #bcfanweek #blurb #i totally wrote two joonas shorts because i'm a massive simp #yes we exist

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 25

A/N: So this chapter begins the first mention of COVID-19 for the story. I know it’s not much but I did want to put a little disclaimer because I know it was a traumatic event for many people, especially those who were affected by it personally. We will obviously get deeper into it as the story progresses in the next chapters (judging by the date...it’s time!)

Also, no @’ing me about what happens here with a certain someone.

March 2nd, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was paying attention to the news at the airport.

“While the first case of what epidemiologists are referring to as COVID-19 was recorded in Toronto on January 25th, the novel coronavirus is still baffling some scientists in terms of its symptoms. They range from severe in some, to completely asymptomatic in others. While there are currently less than twenty cases in Toronto thus far, Ontario health officials have recorded three news cases today. One is a man in his 60s who returned on a flight from Egypt, while the other two are women in their 60s and 70s returning on a flight from Egypt. Public health officials are encouraging individuals to wash their hands frequently and exercise caution whenever and wherever possible.”

“Want some hand sanitizer?” John asked from beside her. He was laid out in the chair beside her while her knees were against her chest.

She nodded, leaving her bag of pretzels in her lap before she extended her hand and he squirted some Purell onto her hand. John always had everything readily available – hand sanitizer, band aids, healthy granola bars, breath mints – she was sure he probably had a spare hair elastic in his backpack too, and a full surgery kit for all she knew. She rubbed the sanitizer in between her hands. “What do you think about all this?” she asked, motioning towards the TV monitor.

John shrugged. “I’m a bit nervous about it,” he admitted. “I know that Aryne is taking some extra precautions with Jace. A lot of her friends from Queen’s ended up going to med school so she’s friends with a lot of doctors and listening to their advice.”

“I guess we should all be.”

“Wouldn’t hurt, right?” John asked rhetorically. “Better safe than sorry. What do you think about it?”

Aberdeen pursed her lips slightly. “I have no clue. Science goes way above my head. But if doctors and epidemiologists are going to tell me to do something – or not do something – so I don’t get sick, I’m going to do it – or not do it – whatever.”

“Atta girl,” John smiled. “Just listen to the experts.”

“That’s why I listen to you about hockey,” she winked.

He laughed out loud. “You butter me up too much. What are you looking for? A granola bar? You already have pretzels.”

“Not everything with me has to do with food.”

“Really?”

She pinched him.

***

March 5th, 2020

It was 24 Celsius in Los Angeles, and Aberdeen was loving it. Though the Leafs had suffered a bit of an embarrassing loss to San Jose the night before, today the team had a day off before they had back to back games against the Kings and Ducks. Some of them were going shopping on Rodeo Drive (Auston, Frederik), and some were visiting old friends since being traded (Kyle, Jack), but most were doing exactly what Aberdeen wanted to do: going to the beach.

They decided on Malibu Beach. It was only a thirty minute drive from the hotel, so Aberdeen put on her bathing suit and packed herself in a car with John, Jason, and Justin Holl. William, Rasmus, Kappy, and Pierre followed in another, with Tyson and Mitch tagging along in the last car too. It may not have been super-hot to Californians, but for sun-starved Canadians, it would do. The sun was out, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and she was going to tan the entire afternoon. She would take advantage of it as much as possible.

As she helped set up the blankets and beach towels, she watched as Mitch and Tyson already stripped down to their bathing suits and ran into the ocean together. Pierre was setting up some Bluetooth speakers and John was passing around the sunscreen. The visual of these men rubbing sunscreen across their abs made Aberdeen’s heart flutter – but then the image of them having to slather sunscreen all over each other’s backs brought her back down to earth. She chuckled to herself and shook her head.

“Aberdeen, sunscreen!” John tossed the bottle towards her. She caught it and stripped down to her tankini before squirting some onto her legs and arms, making sure to cover herself thoroughly. She could tell William was watching but trying not to make it seem like he was. Jason took care of her back.

The guys did their own thing while Aberdeen read her book and tanned. She could hear them screaming every now and then and watched as they gave each other piggyback rides and splashed water at each other like they were a peewee hockey team on a weekend tournament. Every now and again someone would come back to the blankets and beach towels to relax, but soon enough, they were back in the ocean, being loud and obnoxious but happy, happy boys.

“Whatcha reading?” Tyson asked as he walked towards her, wet from the salt water and sand sticking to his legs. She flashed the book at him – Milkman by Anna Burns – and he squinted his eyes to see it properly in the sunlight. “Is it about milk?” he asked.

She shorted. She remembered back to when she was reading Women Talking by Miriam Toews and William asked “Do women talk in it?” like a smartass. “It’s about a woman in what’s very obviously Belfast coming of age during the Troubles. I thought it might give me some more insight into what my mom grew up in.”

“Is it any good? Was it as good as the one you were reading last week on the plane? Normal Girls or whatever it was?”

Aberdeen giggled. “Normal People, you mean? No, it’s not as good as that. Fuck, I loved that book.”

“I know. You wouldn’t shut up about it!” he joked, wiping his body off. From behind him, Aberdeen could see John making his way towards them. William was still off in the ocean, throwing a football between him, Pierre, and Mitch. “Think you can teach Mitch how to read?”

Aberdeen smiled. “I can certainly try.”

As if on cue, Mitch’s booming voice was heard. “Hey T-Bear! Get over here!” he yelled, putting everything he had into his throw of the football so it reached Tyson, who caught it expertly.

“See ya later, Aberdeen,” he said before running off, throwing the football towards Pierre who had to dive into the water to catch it.

Instead of focusing on the water cascading down Pierre’s abs or the sunlight hitting William’s broad shoulders perfectly, making him look like some Norse god, she focused her attention on John. “You feeling good?” she asked.

“The best,” he nodded, wiping himself off before lying the towel down again and sitting on it, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. “You’ve already gotten some colour,” he commented.

“Thank God,” she said, looking down at her arms. “The winter has made me so pale. It’s a bummer I didn’t get my dad’s skin tone. My sister and brother got lucky with that.”

“You took after the Scottish side?” he asked. Aberdeen nodded. “I get it,” he said. “Aryne can’t tan either. She burns too easily.”

“Wonder if the Swedes are going to look like tomatoes in a couple of hours,” she said, nodding her head towards them. “Imagine they’re on TV and beet red? I might get fired for not slathering sunscreen on you guys or not telling you to put on some hats.”

John laughed out loud, choosing to lean back on his elbows. “I don’t know about that, Aberdeen. Something tells me you’ll be around for a long time if certain people have anything to say about it – well, until you want to leave, that is.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened slightly at his words. “Wh…what do you mean?” she asked.

“Ah, nothing serious, Aberdeen. Don’t worry,” he said, shaking his head. With the silence between them, Aberdeen thought he may have dropped it, but he didn’t. He was just preparing to articulate what he wanted to say. “It’s not just Brendan liking you, you know. We know William has, like, the biggest crush on you, okay? We’re all adults here,” he said to her shock. “It’s cute, but we all know it’s harmless.”

“It is harmless,” she stressed.

“I know, Aberdeen. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t for a second forget that you’re all Toronto Maple Leafs,” she said. “Every job in this organization is a dream job for someone and you guys forget that some people spend their entire lives, their entire careers, building up their resumes waiting to get hired by this organization. Nobody would ever, ever, under any circumstances, want to do anything to fuck it up, because once you’re done here, there’s nowhere else to go.”

“I knooooow, I know. I’m just ribbing you like we rib him about it,” he smiled. He was so jovial about it all that Aberdeen calmed down a bit. He wasn’t trying to get to the bottom of something like he was when he and Morgan asked her about Ethan – he was just being good-humoured. A human, not a captain of a hockey team. Maybe her overreaction was a bit much but she needed to remain guarded and vigilant about it if ever, and whenever the guys brought it up. “He looks at you googly-eyed all the time even though he knows nothing’s ever gonna happen. I’m pretty sure he’d cry whenever you leave.”

Aberdeen snorted. Cry from joy, probably, because that would mean they could actually touch each other in public. “He told you that? That nothing is ever gonna happen?”

John nodded his head. “Well, nothing’s ever gonna happen as long as you work here,” he clarified. “But don’t tell him I told you. He kind of figures and we all know it’s a lost cause as long as you’re working here.”

Aberdeen nodded, deciding not to say anything as she looked out into the distance. The boys were still throwing the football, and Justin was attempting a yoga pose on the beach. She picked up her book and buried her head in it.

***

Adrian Kempe, a Swedish friend of William’s, recommended a taco restaurant in Malibu for the group to have dinner. It wasn’t a far drive from where they were on the beach, so at around six in the evening, they shook the sand off the towels and packed them back in the cars and headed to Café Habana. Aberdeen was in the car with John, Jason, and Justin again.

When they arrived at the restaurant, she looked out the backseat window to see Kappy making a beeline towards someone. The girl, Aberdeen soon noticed, was Saylor. She figured Saylor was here for another modelling gig, though Aberdeen did find it somewhat amusing that Saylor always popped up in cities or areas with…well, shall we say distractions. She was in New York. Las Vegas. Aberdeen knew she’d been to Florida. Now she was in LA. Saylor didn’t go Columbus or Colorado.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Saylor squealed as she saw Willy, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him. “Surrrrrpriiiiise!”

“Surprise,” he smirked, but Aberdeen could tell he wasn’t as excited as she was. “Here for some modelling?”

“Who wouldn’t want to come down to LA to model? I just came from a shoot,” she said, now focusing her attention on Aberdeen. “Hey girl!” she squealed again.

“Hi Saylor,” she smiled.

“I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl here tonight,” she smirked. “The boys can get so boring sometimes.”

“Aberdeen’s used to it by now,” Jason piped in. “She’s only been travelling with us since September.”

The group moved towards the restaurant and were seated in the back patio at a long table. Aberdeen was squished in between Jason and John, and directly across from her sat Willy, Pierre to his right and Saylor to his left. Saylor and Kasperi didn’t even have to sit down to ask the waiter and waitress attending to them if they had oysters. They didn’t. With one quick look at the menu, and a disproportionately long discussion requiring everybody’s calculators to be out to determine how many orders of tacos were required for everybody to have three tacos each (much to Aberdeen’s entertainment), the group ordered four orders of every taco variation (and there were five of them) on the menu, along with some sides of baby broccoli, sautéed zucchini, and French fries. As a dining group of 11, it should have been more than enough food. She felt bad for the chefs, but knew the food would be amazing. She saw it being brought to a table near them and it looked delectable.

While Aberdeen maintained professionalism at all times when she was in front of the guys, when the tacos came, that professionalism waned. She made sure to grab the four tacos she was guaranteed and wanted and piled them onto her plate. They looked delicious. Even as she bit into her first one, she moaned audibly at the taste, making the guys around her laugh. Willy eyed her as she did so, taking a bite out of his own.

“So what have you been up to?” Saylor asked Aberdeen as she crunched on a French fry. “Kappy told me it was your birthday?”

“It was! I turned 22.”

“Ohmigod, I remember my 22nd birthday. We went to the rooftop bar at the Bowery Hotel in New York City,” Saylor said. Aberdeen knew it would be something ultra-luxurious because that was the only way Saylor seemed to roll. “What did you end up doing?”

“Oh, a bunch of friends and I just got a booth and bottle service at a club. Nothing as fancy as that,” Aberdeen answered.

“How many were you?”

“I’d say about twenty.”

Saylor’s eyes bulged a bit. “When you get older, your friend group gets soooo small,” she said, her tone making it seem like she was the all-knowledgeable big sister bestowing wise knowledge upon Aberdeen. Saylor was only a year older than her. If it was Jen, Aryne, or Bee giving this advice, fine – but not Saylor. “My friend group is so small now. All the drama that goes on between people is just so tiring, you know? Less people, less drama.”

Aberdeen didn’t want to be rude, so she nodded her head. “I can get that. These are all people I’ve known since high school and throughout university, though. We’ve already been friends for a long time.”

“And you’re still friends with them?” Saylor asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head. Before she could say anything else, John piped up. “I think that’s a testament to your character more so than anything, Aberdeen.”

“But it could also speak to, like, the way people are,” Saylor went on. Aberdeen indulged her, looking at her so she would continue. “Like, when I was in high school – my family is from Lake Forest, and I went to Lake Forest Academy – I found out this one friend was talking behind my back and I totally ditched her. But then we ended up at the same college, and it was really weird for a while, but then we ended up becoming friends!”

Aberdeen didn’t know what point she was trying to make. Neither did anybody else listening, judging by the looks on their faces. “That’s good you were able to turn the relationship around,” she commented, not knowing what else to say.

Saylor looked very proud of herself. “Besides that, what else have you been up to? Are you still just, like, Brendan’s assistant?”

Aberdeen bit her tongue to smile curtly. “Just.”

“And a great one at that,” Jason said before stuffing his mouth with a taco.

“I guess that’s enough for you,” Saylor commented.

Aberdeen almost dropped her taco. So did Jason. Willy was looking in between them. She didn’t know how to respond at this point and not sound rude when Saylor’s rudeness was so blatantly obvious. Aberdeen still wasn’t sure whether or not Saylor actually had the capacity to be underhanded. She was starting to err on the side of Saylor knowing exactly what she was saying to people but saying it in such a way and with such a tone that everyone thought she was just dumb and didn’t know better. Aberdeen began to believe Saylor did know better, and her act wasn’t fooling Aberdeen anymore. It made her reconsider what Saylor said to her in New York about her nose. “It’s actually not enough for me, but it’s what’s paying the bills right now and I’m not going to discuss career aspirations at the dinner table in front of people who are technically my colleagues and who don’t want to see me leave anytime soon.”

“But you can’t be in a job you hate just because it pays the bills!” she said like some dreamer. “You need to go out there and be creative! Cultivate! Be artistic! Design! Sometimes the best opportunities come when you just drop everything, quit your job, and start hustling as you do what you love!”

Aberdeen felt her blood begin to boil. She tried to remain calm. “One – I never said I hated my job. I love this job and I love the people I work with,” she clarified. “Two – that’s a bit easy to say for someone with family money who grew up in Lake Forest and went to a private school. I have rent to pay. Bills – groceries, my cell phone, internet, stuff for my cat – I can’t just up and quit my job with a steady income to hustle and be creative when I have a shit ton of responsibilities.”

“I’m sure your parents would help you if it’s your dream and it’s something you really wanted to do.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” Aberdeen deadpanned. “My parents have their own shit to deal with. My mom would kick my ass if I was that stupid. I mean, my parents are immigrants, so that goes without saying. They don’t owe me a dollar, and I would never ask them for it. I would never do that to them.”

“What about your grandparents?”

Aberdeen could feel John, Jason, Pierre, and Willy deflate at the question. It was almost comical. “I think you’re missing the point, Saylor,” Jason said nicely. “Aberdeen is already hustling to get to an end-goal of writing. This job is actually helping her get to that goal.”

“Writing?” Saylor questioned. “I thought for sure you wanted to, like, work in sports or broadcasting or something. Writing, then? That makes sense, I guess. Better for you to stick behind the cameras.”

Aberdeen wondered if everybody else could hear what Saylor was saying too. She felt like she was in the twilight zone or something. It confirmed to her that Saylor knew exactly what she was saying. “Yeah, I guess. Kind of how it’s better for you to be in front of the cameras because you thrive on attention.”

“Yes! Modelling is all about getting attention and hype around your brand,” she smiled sincerely, so happy that the topic was back on her and her modelling. She didn’t get the subtle dig at her…extracurricular activities that took up more of people’s attention than any work or collaborations or modelling she’d done. “I’m working so hard to build mine now, which is why I’m in LA having meetings and doing more collabs.”

“Is modelling enough for you?” Jason asked.

Aberdeen almost spit out her water, but Willy beat her to it. She saw Saylor’s face light up even more. “Oh my God, yes. I looove modelling. I’m soooo into the creative aspect of it and building my brand.”

“That’s great, Saylor,” Aberdeen smiled. “I’m really glad that it’s working out for you considering how much you love it.”

“Thanks, girl,” she winked. “It’s hard because the industry is so saturated these days. I mean we were talking about this in New York. Every girl with an iPhone, some makeup, and good angles thinks she’s a model. It really takes someone creative like me to stand out. Someone with a unique look and a unique brand,” she went on. “Like your nose, you know? It’s big. Huge. We talked about that. You could get a nose job, or you could work with it. Most would get a nose job.”

Jason was ready for Aberdeen to snap. So was John. So was Pierre. But William knew better. When he saw Aberdeen smile, close-mouthed, just a hint of a coy grin playing on her face, he knew better. “I have a Virginia Woolf nose,” Aberdeen said. “It reminds me of how much I want to become a writer and not a model.”

***

“I feel like I just watched a WWE match on pay-per-view,” Aberdeen overheard Justin say to Jason in a low voice as they trailed behind her in the parking lot (he sat beside Jason during the meal and had heard everything, but even if he hadn’t sat beside him, Aberdeen had a feeling he still would have heard). After the tacos were eaten, everybody decided to call it a night and go back to the hotel – well, mostly everyone. Saylor wanted to go out for drinks somewhere else in Malibu. Everybody else politely declined.

“Yeah, except it was pretty one-sided,” Jason said in an equally low voice. “It’s like Aberdeen was Stone Cold Steve Austin and Saylor was the poor jobber her stunnered every Monday night.”

“You picked up on the nose comment too, right? I mean she was basically telling Aberdeen to get a nose job?” Justin asked.

“Yup,” Jason popped the P sound.

“I thought I was going crazy when I heard it.”

“Yeah, me too. But from what I’ve heard from Jen I didn’t expect more from her.”

“It’s good that Aberdeen is mature. I think if it were me at 22, I would have lunged across the table,” Justin commented.

***

“Who’s Virginia Woolf?”

Aberdeen was lying naked in her hotel bed, tits out, with William lying by her side after he’d fucked her, and that was the question he asked. Aberdeen smiled. She loved William and she knew him – she really did, at least she liked to think – but sometimes she didn’t understand how his brain worked. She knew she liked to call him “Head Empty”, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure. He clearly had thoughts. He just brought them up at weird times. “She was a writer in the early 1900s,” she answered, laughing slightly.

“And you want to be like her?”

She shook her head. “I’d like my writing to be like her writing.”

“Why don’t you want to be like her?”

“She filled her pockets with rocks and committed suicide by drowning herself in the river behind her home,” she said, looking over at him. His face was blank, processing the information, and she smiled wider. “Maybe if my writing was like hers, I’d actually get published in Toronto Life or something.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Her smile faded. She hadn’t told him yet. She’d wanted to keep it to herself for as long as possible because she didn’t want to burden him with the news. “I did try. I sent in one of my personal essays and they rejected it. They sent me the email on my birthday.”

William remained silent. He saw the look on Aberdeen’s face and knew that she felt embarrassed and disappointed – in herself, in her writing. He wrapped an arm around her and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down at her. “Minskatt…”

“Don’t, Willy. You’re going to make me cry.”

“No,” he shook his head, not accepting what she was saying. “After the Carolina game you told me I needed to talk more and that you’d listen. Well, you need to talk now and I’ll listen,” he said. “Talk to me, minskatt. I’m listening.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it wasn’t because of her writing getting rejected anymore. It was because of the man hovering over her. His head may by empty, but Aberdeen was sure his heart was full of gold. She didn’t know how she got so lucky. She didn’t know how he was hers. “I just don’t know how much more rejection I can take,” she whispered. “I try and I try and I write and I write and I read so I can write better and nothing is working. Nothing,” her voice was shaky. “I just want an editor to read my writing and say ‘This is what I’ve been looking for all along.’ But that hasn’t happened yet. And I’m scared it’s never going to happen.”

“It’ll happen one day, minskatt. I promise you,” William encouraged as he tightened his grip around her with his one arm. “You’re so talented. Your dreams are going to come true and you’re going to look back and wonder why you ever doubted yourself.”

“Do you doubt me?” she asked suddenly.

“No,” William said without hesitation. “Not for a second.”

Aberdeen stayed silent, bringing a hand up to wipe the few tears that had fallen down the side of her face. She rested it on William’s forearm draped across her body. “When I get like this, all my insecurities come out. About my future, about everything. Maybe I was never destined to be a writer. Maybe I was destined to be a personal assistant or a bank teller. Maybe I was destined just to be normal girl with a big nose and nothing special.”

“How can you say you’re nothing special when you’re my treasure?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of her neck and placing a light kiss there. She couldn’t help but smile, and he smiled at the fact he made her smile. “That has to count for something, right minskatt?” he stressed the word.

She nodded. “It counts for everything.” She looked directly into his baby blues, barely blinking. “The second I leave here I’m going to plant the biggest kiss on your lips, Willy. You have absolutely no idea.”

That caused William to laugh out loud before he bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “Not if I beat you to it,” he said.

“You won’t. Trust me. God, I can hardly wait,” she said. “I still don’t know why you keep waiting for me.”

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Mhm.”

“I wait for you because I love you. Because I love everything about you.”

“Even my big nose?”

“My favourite part of you,” he kissed the tip of it. She could have cried again. “It’s what makes you you. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

When she craned her neck to kiss him, she made sure to wrap her arms around his body and pull him close, wanting to feel his body on top of hers. He got the hint, and stuck his tongue down her throat, and they kissed until he was hard again. Though he hadn’t expected a second round, he was more than willing to partake. He even made sure to bring extra condoms. He always did now – since Valentine’s Day. He had them everywhere: in his wallet, in his suitcase, in his shoe. “I love you minskatt,” he mumbled against her lips.

She didn’t respond at first. But when she did, it was with something he wasn’t expecting. “Tell me how you want me.”

He froze for a brief second, the previous conversation they were just having still fresh in his mind. “What?”

“Do you want me from behind? On top?” she asked in a breathy voice.

He groaned. “On top.”

They switched positions so he was lying on his back. Aberdeen climbed on top of him. “Willy?” she asked. “Can we…can we try something different?”

He nodded quickly. “What is it, Aberdeen?”

“Can we…” she began, almost a bit embarrassed. “Can I try reverse cowgirl?”

William couldn’t help but smile. “Of course,” he said, gripping at her hips.

“D’you have another condom?”

“My back pocket.”

She dismounted him, leaning over the bed to grab his pants on the floor and retrieve the packet. When she straddled him again, she did it so her back was to his face. He could feel her pump him a few times before she rolled on the condom, and he sighed at the feeling. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I love you, Willy.”

“I love you too,” he said, his hands back on her hips. He helped her lower herself onto him, the both of the moaning at the feeling. He loved watching himself disappear inside of her. He noticed she wasn’t moving yet. “You okay?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded her head. “It feels so good,” she said. “I’ve never…you know…”

“It’s okay,” he said, understanding what she wasn’t saying. He couldn’t believe that her previous sexual partners were so selfish that they never let her explore what she liked or what she could possibly like or positions she could do. He shuddered at the thought of her potentially asking and being turned down. It made him angry just thinking about it. He didn’t want her to be that way with him. He wanted her to be completely open. “Do what you feel comfortable with, minskatt.”

She began rolling her hips back and forth. William groaned in response, and he could feel Aberdeen’s hands grip his thighs and her nails dig in slightly. As she rocked herself on his cock, she began to moan, gasping out anytime William would buck his hips slightly. He had to admit he liked the view, but what he liked even more was that she was enjoying herself on top of him, doing what she wanted.

“Willy?” she asked suddenly. She looked over her shoulder at him again. She looked so innocent and he knew that she meant to do it, and he almost exploded right then and there as she bat her eyelashes at him. “Can you…can you come up here?”

He did as he was told, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her body. He kissed her back and dragged his lips along her skin to her shoulder and neck. “What is it, minskatt?” he asked.

“What if I wanted to try more?”

If it was possible, William felt even hotter. The sound of her voice saying those words was…indescribable. “What do you mean?”

“You just make me feel so good. I’ve never had anybody make me feel this way. I feel so comfortable with you,” she said. “You…I feel safe to try things with you. Things I couldn’t try with other guys.”

He knew what she was getting at. He placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “What do you want to try?” he asked. She remained silent, wondering if she should have even said anything. “Don’t be ashamed, minskatt. What do you want me to do?”

She hesitated. “D’you…can you pinch my nipples?”

He smiled because it was such a simple request. He brought his hands up and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples between his thumb and index fingers. He felt her sharp intake of breath and her head leaned back into his shoulder. He could tell by her reaction that she wanted more. “What else?” he asked, biting down on her skin near her shoulder. “What are you not telling me?”

“That,” she stressed. He didn’t know what she meant. “The bite. You—You can fuck me, Willy. I want you to fuck me. You can be rougher with me. I think I’ll like it.”

When William heard those words and how she emphasized them, he wanted to make sure. Needed to make sure. The first time they had sex it was a good old-fashioned hookup. The second time they had sex they’d made love. In subsequent times since, it was mostly making love, if only because they had waited so long to finally be together and that was what they wanted to “release” – love. But now, with those words being said, he knew Aberdeen was ready to take the next step. She was willing to go further. She trusted him to go further with her, and only wanted to do it with him. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I trust you. Fuck me, Willy.”

He pinched her nipples again, harder this time, and she gasped. He started to move his hips too, moving inside of her, and she began to moan again. Without warning, he fell back down on the bed, bringing her with him so her back was flush against his chest, though her knees were still bent and he was still in her. This was definitely a new position for her, judging by her reaction – a quick “oh fuck” escaping her lips. He heard her breathing get heavier as she felt one of his hands snake down from her breasts and on to her clit. “Willy…” she moaned out.

He started pounding into her, using his athletic physique to be able to so with such force in a new angle she’d never felt before. Her moans fuelled him, and the moans changed to slight whimpers when he started rubbing at her clit. “Fuck, Willy…” she managed to get out.

But he wasn’t done. At least he didn’t want to be done. His other hand, still pinching her nipple, moved up to her neck. “Willy,” she mewled, bringing her own hand up and placing it over his.

“Is that okay?” he whispered into her ear. He wasn’t applying any pressure – it was just sort of there – but that was apparently enough for her. He wouldn’t have felt comfortable going further, anyway, at least without her verbalizing something.

“Yes Willy, fuck,” she arched her back. “Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

He increased his pace. Her cries let him know that even with those simple actions, she was feeling pleasure. She was liking it. She was getting what she wanted from him. That was the only thing he wanted. “I want you to cum all over my cock, Aberdeen,” he growled into her ear. She didn’t answer, but when she arched her back again, he felt her walls tighten around his cock and he knew she was done. He let himself find his release too, groaning in pleasure as her body writhed on top of his. He didn’t stop rubbing her clit until her hand went over his to stop him. Her body went still as he slipped out of her and she fell to his side, trying to regain her breath.

After a couple of minutes, she curled around to face him. “I know that was probably really tame but it was new for me.”

William shook his head. He didn’t want her to feel nervous about anything. “Baby steps,” he kissed her.

“No guy has ever, like…asked what I like in the bedroom,” she admitted. “So I couldn’t explore things. Well I didn’t feel comfortable exploring things. But I know I can with you.”

William nodded his head. “Don’t worry, minskatt. We can start slow. No need to rush. You can tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go.”

“You too.”

“Hmm?”

“You tell me what you like and where you’re willing to go, and I’ll go there with you too.”

He nodded his head, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”

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insertdeeplyrics · 4 years

Text

On the ending of Supernatural

Hi, I’ve never actually posted anything on Tumblr of my own creation (I mostly reblog stuff), but I’ve just seen the ending of Supernatural, and given that this is where I’ve been fed my SPN content, it felt right to share my thoughts here. I’m sure nobody is going to read this, but whatever, I just need to get this out of my chest. Sorry in advance if this is too long, but I have to type this out if I want to move on.

I still need to take some time to process everything that’s happened, because it is a lot. I did have my hopes up for the finale, thinking that Cas would at least show up, but like many of the fans, I was let down.

So I guess that would be the first issue I had with the episode. Regardless of what Dean felt towards Cas, if he reciprocated his feelings or not (which he totally did, I mean, we have all been watching the same show for 12 fucking years, and if you don’t believe me, there are plenty of metas that would support this statement), he still is his best friend and it doesn’t sit right with me the fact that he doesn’t even try to find a way to rescue Cas from the Empty. And okay, maybe he didn’t, make Cas got resurrected by Jack, then why the hell wasn’t he on the final episode? He was a pivotal character for the series, I mean, the proof is in the ratings: Season 7, when he was killed off to apparently never return, the ratings were at their lowest. The show may have started as just Dean and Sam, but over the years it became much bigger than them, and it is so disappointing that the show runners failed to acknowledge it. But I’ll get back to this point later.

Okay, I need to talk about Dean’s death, the only part of the episode that made me cry, because my poor baby had to suffer so much! Like, when he started saying that Sam never put up with John’s crap (which reinforces my headcanon that John was abusive towards the boys) and how much he admired him for it, my heart just shattered. I just love Dean Winchester so freaking much, and they did him so dirty... Don’t get me wrong, Jensen and Jared’s acting was 10/10, like, I thought I had a grip of myself and then Sam started crying and tears came back to my eyes. Nonetheless, I felt that the scene was so freaking long! I mean, Dean was dying, and he had time to make a 10 minutes-long speech! C’mon! Also, I get that Sam and Dean’s relationship is quite deep and strong and whatever, but I felt a bit unconformable watching it: it didn’t feel like a brotherly goodbye, more like a lover’s one. They were too touchy and intimate, and, overall, their relationship from this point on was coded as a romantic one, in my opinion. And Chuck, did I hate it! I have an older brother and I know what it is like to be close to your sibling and to love him more than anything else in the world, but the way they portrayed their relationship on this last episode felt incest-y, which makes me believe that this scene was originally written with another character in mind (cough CAS cough) or the writers don’t know the difference between romantic and brotherly love. To finish off, the way they killed off Dean??? I mean, I did expect Dean to die, but this was such a horrible and ridiculous way to go... I would have accepted it if he died actually fighting, but impaled??? After all he’s been through, after fighting so many demons, angels and deities, that’s how he dies??? That just felt cheap and rushed. Dean did not deserve that ending and I refuse to accept it. In fact, I refuse to acknowledge the existence of this whole fucking mess of an episode. Also, I just can’t believe that no one showed up to Dean’s funeral. I just can’t. I get that maybe it was difficult to bring in a lot of actors due to the pandemic, but they could have added them on post-production...

Next, we have Sam’s ending. He quits hunting and finally obtains his white-picket fence life. I did like the fact that he honored all of his friends and family that he lost along the way, especially Dean. Like, yes, if my brother died, I would like to keep a token (don’t know if that’s the actual word for it, my first language is not English), to have something with me that reminded me of him and to have him with me wherever I go. And I did like that he named his son Dean, in honor of his brother. However, we don’t know how he met his wife, we don’t even know who she is. They set up Sameileen for what?? Like, Sam and Eileen deserved better, tbh. And, again, even with Covid restrictions they could have done something to signal that Sam got married to Eileen, you don’t need the actor there. In fact, we never actually found out what happened to her, and just like I can’t believe that Dean didn’t even try to save Cas from the Empty, I can’t believe that Sam didn’t reach out to Eileen. Furthermore, the montage with his son felt cheap and a way to try to appeal to the audience’s emotions... (Btw, as a side note, the grey wig and the glasses, my god, they did Jared dirty 😂😂). But it wasn’t doing it for me, I didn’t care much for the kid, and while I do believe that was always going to be Sam’s ending, I didn’t like how it was executed.

And the worst part of it all: that suuuuuper long scene with Dean driving in Heaven, waiting for Sam. They could have used that time to show something more meaningful, even to develop a bit more Sam’s new life, how he adjusted to domesticity and fatherhood and all that crap. Or, I don’t know, A TEAM FREE WILL 2.0 REUNION??? And I guess this is my biggest issue with the whole episode. I get it, Sam and Dean are the central characters, the ones that started it all, but family don’t end with blood, and they were not the only ones who deserved a goodbye. They had formed so many bonds and friendships over the years, and to not have them address them on the final episode just feels infuriating. Especially Cas. His arc was not finished, he deserved to be on the finale. We never got Dean’s reaction to his confession, we don’t know how he felt about him, nor did Cas get to say goodbye to any other character. How did he get out of the Empty? What is he doing now? Is he still an angel? Also, he gave his life to save Dean, only for Dean to be killed not long after. My headcanon that is helping me cope with Dean’s death is thinking that he was so quick to accept his death because he was hoping to reunite in Heaven with Castiel. A girl can dream, ok??? But also, what about Jack? He is the new God, but I highly doubt it that he won’t drop by the Bunker from time to time, after all, Sam and Dean (AND CAS, ESPECIALLY CAS) raised him. And Charlie? Did she get back with Stevie? Did she and the boys go for drinks from time to time? And Jody? Donna? Claire? Sorry to be so repetitive, but I just can’t understand why the writers thought that these characters weren’t important enough to deserve a spot on the finale, and not just an off-hand mention (and not even all of them got that). Of course, the brothers are the main characters and their goodbye must be the longest and the most emotional of them all, but like I said before, the show stopped being just about the Winchesters on season 3, when Bobby was first introduced, maybe even 4, with Cas.

Overall, the finale left a lot of questions unanswered, most of them regarding secondary characters (but not less important for that!), completely destroyed Sam and Dean’s character development (Dean never got to be free, like he had been fighting for all season, probably all his life; Sam’s development is non-existing, as he ended up as he would’ve if he never had gotten on that hunting trip with Dean 15 years ago), and completely disregarded all the themes they had been setting up this season, probably on previous ones as well. It is sad knowing that the writers, either don’t know the show good enough to give it a proper goodbye, or they just didn’t care to do so. I don’t know who’s to blame here (definitely not the actors, though, probably someone higher up the chain), but I just know that I am so fucking disappointed. I expected more from the last episode of a 15-season TV show, one that has been part of my life for 7 years. I guess, that despite all of it, I can’t hate Supernatural. Maybe I was not a hardcore fan like some people on this site, but I did care for the characters and what happened to them. This is the show that introduced me to the world of shipping (Destiel will always hold a special place in my heart, it doesn’t matter how badly their relationship was treated, as well as the characters) and I got to discover one of my favorite characters, Dean Winchester. He is just such so complex, one that I relate to on so many levels, and his relationship with Cas has been the source of many short stories that I’ve never posted anywhere, but that have made me take up writing again. That’s the reason why I love the show so much, it has helped me tap into my creativeness and go back to writing, a passion of mine that I seem to have forgotten over the years. Anyways, maybe one day I’ll publish some of those stories, and maybe even write my own fix-it fanfic, but right now, I can’t deal with anything that has to do with the show, I am too hurt. Maybe once the five stages of grief are over, I might give it a try and read all of the amazing codas and fanfics that I’m sure will be posted here or on AO3. But for now, Supernatural is dead and gone, and I don’t want to talk nor think about it anymore. I’m done wasting my time here, because I feel like that’s what I’ve been doing this past 7 years after watching this crap of a finale.

To finish this long rant off, I just want to say thank you to some meta-writers, the true heroes of the fandom. Thanks to them, I carried on watching the show, because they made me have hope that things will get better. They are the ones that have made this experience worth something, and even though I’ve never spoken to any of them, I see you and I love you. Thanks for everything ❤.

@tinkdw @charlie-minion @dotthings @heliodean @verobatto-angelxhunter @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

#supernatural #spn s15 #spn #carry on #destiel #supernatural finale #personal rant #dean is bi #dean winchester #sam winchester #disappointed #dean winchester deserved better #destiel forever #jack also deserved better #every fucking character deserved better #character development who? don't know her #castiel #spn spoilers #spn 15x20

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mickstart · 4 years

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what do you think are some iconic/memorable schumi moments? i just got into f1 and would like to know more about him bc somehow i can’t really find anything like that about him.... just stats which are incredibly impressive but i can’t find anything about how he behaved or just anything about his personality..... thanks <3

:) Hi anon, thank you for unleashing the beast.

Ok I love you for asking me this thank you SO MUCH. Welcome to the circus I’m glad you’re here! Also yeah, Schumi is often talked about in terms of statistics and not as a human, Which is a shame bc like! Schumi is fascinating and the dynamics on the grid in late 90s F1 is so much fun! Also, this is mainly going to be late 90s -> early 2010s stuff bc I was born in 98 so uhhh I didn’t properly witness ANY 90s stuff and had to learn about it.

OK so I got super carried away but I’ve divided this into 3 sections: Drives/races that I think showcase some of his talents, human moments we need to talk about more, and Chaotic Little Bitch moments. The key thing to remember w/ Schumi is that he personally tends to be nice but as soon as you put him in a competition, Bastard Mode activates like a cat’s pupils going wide.

I am so sorry for the following short essay. Also some crashes are briefly mentioned but only ones with absolutely no injuries and there’s no details.

Chaotic Little Bitch Moments

Schumi debuted as a SUBSTITUTE driver for Jordan when one of their drivers was in police custody (yes. really.) The highest a Jordan had qualified all year was 10th and in his DEBUT at SPA, one of the toughest tracks, in the middle of the season, Schumi qualified that Jordan 7th! THEN his clutch failed before the first lap was even complete, but Benetton and Jordan WENT TO COURT to fight each other to sign him for their team before the next race in Monza. He couldn’t debut normally he HAD to cause a scene and set the tone.

The Red Strings of Fate: He qualified 7th, his iconic 7 starred helmet, his first victory next year was ALSO at Spa - his first complete race would be at Monza, Ferrari Holy Ground, and he finished 5th which 👀 1) he was immediately racing with The Greats. 2) Mr 5 Championships With Ferrari.

Winning a race by taking a stop and go penalty on the last lap, crossing the finish line in the pits, and making such a complicated argument about said penalty that in a hearing that was SUPPOSED to be Mclaren protesting the race result the stewards scrapped the entire penalty and the 3 who awarded it handed in their licenses??? Iconic.

Austria 2002 where Rubens was ordered to give the win to Michael. And then Michael fucking made him stand on the top step on the podium like “oh no no no RUBENS deserves this” and made a big SHOW out of it and its like “Michael stop you’re not making it heartwarming you’re making it WORSE Michael STOP” The Tension of germany 2010 podium VS the theatricality of THIS podium.

Team orders were banned because of this which also makes this indirectly responsible for Fernando Is Faster Than You having to be a coded message. You can’t escape him,

Blocking Alonso in Monaco qualifying and then, years later in 2010, overtaking Alonso technically illegally at Monaco (the race was ending under safety car, but the safety car doesn’t lead them over the line it pits and they’d crossed the safety car line and the regulations were NOT specific about the rules) and getting a 20 second penalty bc Damon Hill was a steward. Haunting FERNANDO specifically at Monaco like the ghost of christmas past? Getting a harsh penalty because ANOTHER driver he’d fucked over was a steward? Forcing the FIA to rewrite the rulebook to account for his nonsense when he was in his FOURTIES? I don’t know another chaos king.

Winning the 1995 championship by crashing into Damon Hill, getting AWAY with it for some reason, and then trying to do the same thing in 1997 to Villeneuve, failing to do so and simply rebounding off of him harmlessly, almost COMICALLY, and beaching his own car in a gravel trap at which point the FIA said “I have had ENOUGH of you Wacky Races Man!” and disqualified him from the entire championship

Forcing Mika off the track so bad at Spa 2000 that Mika realized the only way he was gonna be able to get past him was to re-invent the overtake and go for it whilst they were passing a backmarker. (The overtake itself is at 2:05 in the video but the build up to it is Important bc the key part it’s not just badass, it only happened bc Mika knew who he was dealing with.)

Spa 1998 was a Ridiculously Chaotic race it truly was the Mugello 2020 of its year, and after a crash at the start that took out almost the entire grid Schumi accidentally collided with Coulthard later in the race. (The teams used to have a spare car at every race then, so the race was able to continue after a restart.) This wasn’t a racing thing, Coulthard was getting lapped. So something in Schumi SNAPS, and he storms down the pitlane and tries to fight Coulthard while the mclaren and ferrari mechanics both hold him back and finally drag him away. He projected into the future, saw Coulthard was gonna talk non-stop shit about Seb, and acted accordingly.

Monaco 2012 Pole don’t talk to me about this I still can’t believe the audacity of this man to get the only pole of his comeback, at MONACO, at the ONE RACE where he had a 5 place grid penalty to take!!

In general, I know Cheating Bad but. I HAVE to admire the brainpower it must take to have the rulebook so memorized that whilst driving an F1 car Schumi could spot a loophole the size of the eye of a needle and then dance through it, forcing the FIA to add ANOTHER page to the rule book specially for him bc nobody else even REALISED that loophole existed.

Human Moments

A quick rant about Mika and Schumi’s entire friendship. After Spa 2000 Mika goes up to Michael, says something like “Don’t ever do that again” then they’re friends again. They had this mutual understanding that Racing was not Reality. This goes all the way back to their F3 days they were rivals AND friends for their entire career. They truly were the Sewis of the era if Sebastian was like 50% more evil. Their entire dynamic is “You’re the only motherfucker in this pit lane who can handle me”. Schumi would do some bullshit and every other driver would throw up their hands in frustration and Mika would just go “Okay” and drive better to put him in his place bc he was the only one who could keep up, and Schumi very visibly LOVED that he’s grinning after Mika owns his entire ass with that overtake at Spa. They were unstoppable force meets immovable object and I’m so sad their rivalry isn’t more talked about bc the way Mika is the only driver who can get him to behave like a normal human being is SO entertaining.

This is a sad one so I won’t link it but he started crying in the 2000 Monza press-conference with his brother and Mika when he equaled one of Senna’s records. The press kept trying to ask questions about it and Mika just has this death grip on his shoulder and tries to get them to stop or let them take a break and it’s so sad but also important to know about.

Once said he didn’t want Mick to race in F1 bc the pressure of his name would put Mick under so much stress and he wanted his son to be happy. (He fully supported Mick in his endeavors! But only after making absolutely sure it was what Mick wanted, and making sure he knew he could just race for fun if he wanted and it didn’t have to be F1)

This whole interview just after Mick was born with the Schumacher family. Special shout out to Gina on his head the entire video and also Corinna talking to the press while Michael is captivated by Mick. Me too Michael.

Once allegedly pleaded to take a stray kitten home from the track?

I reblogged this yesterday but. Sticking like glue to Sebastian at an F1 test and immediately being like “This is my new son he’s gonna go far”. There’s a lot of pictures out there also of Michael being a guest at the karting races Seb went to as a kid and baby Seb visibly losing his fucking mind at being given a trophy by his idol. Every day of my life I think about him trying to ruffle Seb’s hair through his helmet at Brazil 2012

WInning the championship in 2000. Him thanking the entire team individually and pausing mid-celebration to kiss his wife Corinna so tenderly it’s in the F1 opening. Also, the way it literally cuts from the rest of McLaren looking like they’re attending a funeral to Mika grinning at him and hugging him fucking SENDSSSSS me.

Schumi was a little shit in all the 2010-12 press conferences like, lowering Lewis’ chair, playing with a microphone wire, but ESPECIALLY corrupting baby Seb and getting him to mess with Nico Rosberg.

He’s just GOOFY! Like I refuse to let him be remembered as a terrifying force of nature he was so goofy kind of similarly to Seb. PLEASE watch this incredibly awkward interview he did with Coulthard on a golf buggy where they both had to pretend they hadn’t thought about murdering each other at least once. I think Sky F1 should force Brocedes to do this when covid’s over. “Do you mind if I drive?” “Yes.”

EDIT: I CANNOT BELIEVE I forgot the 1999 Canada press conference where Eddie Irvine and Mika Hakkinen get into a water fight and Schumi immediately grabs a towel and hides behind it and is like “I had NOTHING to do with it” 🥺 adorable, actually

A lot of people at Ferrari, including Rob Smedley (who was on the other side of the garage with Felipe Massa so not in his inner circle) have said that a lot of the success of the team came from Schumi’s LEADERSHIP more than anything, that he’d make the team get together to bond all the time. When Schumi moved to Ferrari in 1996 they were NOT dominant. He did the same thing Lewis did - went to a team that everybody said would be a huge mistake and helped build them up behind the scenes.

THIS bit of the Canada 2011 Rewind where his engineer gives him the strategy and he’s like “... OkaAaAaAay?” and then when it turns out to be the wrong strategy he cheerfully tells them it’s too late. Little shit.

Speaking of Mercedes I also wanna say that like. They were a MESS in 2012 and his car DNF’d because of a failing on their part MULTIPLE times. (In Canada qualifying his DRS was stuck open and they couldn’t close it.) He did not say a single bad word about them EVER even though the press used this to attack him non-stop as washed-up and bad without Ferrari to cheat for him. At Ferrari he was the exact same with the team, any bastard antics Schumi had for his rivals did not extend to the engineers and crew.

OK this one is soured bc Top Gear is trash BUT if you were like, a kid in England who followed motorsports? Schumi’s fake reveal as The Stig on Top Gear was like the coolest, sickest thing,

Please view this image of Schumi and Mika when they were young and stupid

Iconic Races

ok so I have limited myself to a few races that show off some of his key strengths!

Hungary 1998 / France 2004 - STRATEGY/SPEED - Schumi switched to a 3 stop strategy in 98 and a FOUR STOP strategy in 04 and won both races. In order for the strategy call to work he’d have to basically make every single lap a qualifying style ‘flying lap’ and you best fucking believe he DID THAT. God I fucking miss when Ferrari was the king of strategy.

Argentina 1998 - has it all. Talent, battling Mika, pit lane mind games with mclaren, and bullying coulthard xxx

Spain 1996 / a majority of the wet races - RAIN - One of Schumi’s nicknames was Rain Master bc he was so fucking good in the wet. If it started raining and you were a Schumi stan you were cackling evilly before the red lights even went out. I single out 1996 bc it was his first win for Ferrari and it was unexpected but in most wet races, even Canada 2011 post comeback, you can see Schumi thriving.

Malaysia 1999 - Schumi missed pretty much the entire second half of the season with a broken leg, came back for the last 2 races with everybody murmuring about whether he would struggle, and immediately put the Ferrari on pole. Also worth noting is that he was the number 2 driver for these 2 races bc his teammate Irvine was fighting Mika for the championship and he went along with that without complaint, allowing Ferrari to win the constructor’s championship if not the driver’s.

Monza 2002, 03, 04, or 06 just because it has the energy of the tifosi kneeling at the feet of an idol to their red god.

Brazil 2006 - Fuck All Y’all - Schumi’s last race for Ferrari. He got a puncture and ended up almost lapped, and then drove his way back from that to 4th bc he couldn’t go out without reminding us he’s a bad bitch.

Monza 2012 - Defending - Don’t tell F1 Twitter that there’s actual footage of Lewis and Michael having a genuine lengthy battle on track but DO watch Michael defending like a motherfucker and Lewis breathing down his neck for half the race we need to talk about this more.

Valencia 2012 - This isn’t necessarily anything special but I cried in my living room over the only podium of his comeback so it goes on here. It doesn’t have the same impact if you haven’t been watching him struggle with the car for years, DNF-ing from car failure most of 2012, and having BBC F1 telling you he’s washed up every single weekend, but you can just enjoy one of the best drives of FERNANDO’S entire career as he DRAGS that Ferrari by its hair to a home grand prix win and then watch the crowds embrace him like jesus and also Schumi being happy on the podium. Also, the very start of this clip from the press conference: him forgetting what language he’s supposed to be speaking

Basically, Schumi was a hyper-competitive ambitious bitch who turned into a goofball as soon as he switched the engine off. This is by NO MEANS everything if I was making an exhaustive best races guide I’d do more research and another post but I hope this is what you were looking for?? THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me go MAXIMUM SPECIAL INTEREST and I apologize.

#asks #Schumi #Mika #Alonso #long post #god I'm so fucking sorry #Anonymous #This is not comprehensive bc I didn't want to accidentally turn this into a whole research project especially if you're new to it!

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thanatophobia-thoughts · 3 years

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Friday morning, the first thing everyone wants to hear is about how someone had to face time a dying friend, who was more like a second mom to them, right?

My drive to work is quick, usually 6-10 minutes depending on traffic. I caught a morning radio show as one of the hosts was talking about saying goodbye, and the horrible emotions inherit in that, as well as other aspects.

In sum, a second mother of sorts was passing on – of what, I was not sure, though it seemed to be Covid-19. He was dreading the face time that she had requested as one of her dying wishes, but late at night, he went through with it. It was a lot of tears, and lots of expressions of what they meant to each other, for about ten minutes, he said. She passed on not too long after.

He said that despite his anxiety about this, he was glad in hindsight to have done it.

He also indicates now that he understands why his uncle protected him from having that privilege with his grandma – he doesn’t think he could have taken that image of her on respirators and all else, and knows his uncle is still struggling with it. In some ways, he thought this gave him closure for his grandmother, as well.

It’s always a balancing act when it comes to dying wishes, and those who remain alive.

For me, there’s nothing that could take me away from those last moments if someone wanted me there. No matter how hard, no matter how the dying memory overlaps with the living memory of who they were before death. People change. My brother is not the five year old boy with long hair anymore. Nor is he the 12 year old who tried to look like Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin. He’s, stars, 29 this year! Short hair. Ginger beard, and blonde hair. He has a strange chilled nature to him, but can get so heated.

So I think, I am in some ways better prepared than some to balance that change between living and dying. Not from my brother, but from having experienced it some (a great grandfather, a grandmother, and a few cats), and understanding as well that I go on.

They do not. I would rather they have what they need at the end.

Yet, I absolutely empathize with the living. This host spoke of how the image of his second-mother figure still haunts him. How it haunts his uncle, still, too, and here’s where I am not sure how to balance it, to make things work.

Perhaps letters/texts/emails could work to express the words that want, or need, to be said. This takes out the sight, but gets to the heart of things, and in a way that can be preserved to look over, as well.

Voice recordings could also work, or a regular phone call rather than face time.

When I think for myself of how I would respond or what would work, if someone did not want to actually see me at that time, I think voice recordings would be best. I’ve lived a life of voice and music, and though I’ve also lived a life of words in writing, I think I’d prefer to have a voice over words on paper or some other medium. Sounds. It feels more personal even where it isn’t.

I can’t approve of no contact whatsoever at the end with someone you love, unless that is what they want – and even then, I think I’d still have issues with it. I certainly did when my cat wandered off to find a place to die, so that’s just me.

The important thing, no doubt, would be to have a conversation with them while they’re still lucid and alive, about what they think they want, and your own comforts.

A part of this blog to help us all, is to get more comfortable with confronting death. Addressing with loved ones where you can (not all are able), and determining what will work so that either of you can pass on well, and the other will feel a sense of closure. This closure still may not happen – we don’t all die of a prolonged illness that allows it.

Yet, even if it doesn’t, there may be some closure found in simply having the conversation.

Find what works for you, and your loved ones. Make it known what your comfort is, on either side – the dying, or the living. And be okay with changing plans, and try to accommodate. We don’t know what it’s like, until we’re there.

#death anxiety #death anxiety talk #death anxiety help #closure #dying #dying preparations #death preparations #thanatophobia #last words

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pizza-soup · 4 years

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Sorry I've been missing in action.

Long story short I got very injured at the labs, but I've been making a fast recovery. For the more detailed, graphic version, you can read below. Warning: Mention of hospital, blood, car accident.

As I mentioned, I got really injured at work beginning on February 21 at around 9 PM. It was during a routine check at some of the sites, one in particular needed our higher clearance because there had been a breach at a fence that past week, so I, and two other guards went to check out any tampering of the fence again. They say it might be vandals but a lot of them say it was some kind of large animal. The road to those sites are a single path through the woods, lit with a few lights, no curves, just a flat road with a hill on one side. It hadn't snowed that week either, so no fear of ice or anything. It was just a routine jeep trek.

It happened so fast. Our vehicle was knocked over, I'm not even sure how, but we were rolling in the dark down a hill, hitting trees. I remember the shouting, holding fast, and the glass. I remember crawling toward a tree and trying to sit up against it or maybe I was put there by the other guard, Dolores, I remember her telling me to stay awake. I asked her if I was dreaming. It didn't feel real. I asked what was happening to me because I couldn't move right, everything felt so slow and muffled. I passed out by the time they got us into the medical ward. I don't remember them putting me in a gown or putting in an IV. I woke up later, I buzzed the call button out of fear and pain. My whole left side was throbbing. A nurse was relieved I finally came to. She gave me pain meds and called the doctor in.

I was told there had been an accident, that much I already knew, but no one was killed, just injured. I lost a lot of blood, my uniform was soaked in it and they had to cut it off me. Part of the metal from the door frame folded in and pieced my left shoulder and I had minor cuts on my hands and arms from the glass. My blood pressure dropped so low they were scared my heart might've stopped. I was given blood, hooked up to a lot of things and I would have to stay under watch for a few days. There was a lot of tests they needed to do to figure out just how bad my injuries were.

For the next few days I was just sleeping, I couldn't sit up without feeling dizzy. I had to lay semi flat, my blood pressure was still very low. My left side was still throbbing and the stitches itched. A lot of bruises developed from being tossed around like I was, mostly on my arms because I was shielding my face and head. My minor glass cuts stung while batheing. Nurses came in every few hours to check my vitals, help me use the restroom, shower, help me eat, ect. I got so tired from the smallest things. I couldn't call anyone, my phone was in my locker. I finally got someone to help me call my brother to tell him what happened. My brother was naturally scared, he thought something happened to me and he was sad to know he was right. He wanted to see me, but he couldn't, I was in the medical ward on lab property. He wanted to call our mom to tell her but I told him to wait, there was a possibility that I might be transferred to a local hospital where they can visit me, and I didn't want her panicking and trying to drive up here in bad weather. It's best she waited til things cleared up.

After the first week I was transferred to a local hospital after getting a bunch of tests done. No brain trauma, no broken bones, no blood sugar issues or thyroid problems. I could sit up in bed by then and eat on my own. I still couldn't walk very well without feeling really dizzy, again, low blood pressure. A lot of minor bruises were fading away. I never had my anemia officially confirmed, but they confirmed it and had me take daily iron and placed on a blood building diet in the new hospital. I was tested for covid, I came out clear.

My brother and mom visited me daily, and the other doctor said I was recovering really quickly, that gave us a lot of hope. I could be out of there by a few days, though my blood pressure was worrying her. Seems it wasn't so much the blood loss, but that it might have been an underlying condition already linked to my untreated anemia. She would get the in-house dietitian to include a bit more natural sea salt to my iron rich diet, as well as tell me what I should eat at home and that I need to drink a lot more water than I normally did. This is a problem I've had for awhile, I forget to drink enough water. The doctor warned me I better remedy that immediately especially with low BP. My mom was already taking notes. She really wanted to just take me home already. I really liked her being there, I'm not that shy about my body, but I honestly felt better having my mom bathe me and comb my hair instead of strangers doing that. She was also a lot more gentle around my stitches and bruises.

Eventually I did come home, I still needed a lot of rest and help getting out of bed. I had to fight the urge to clean house, help with groceries, ect. I'm so used to being self sufficient. I felt so frustrated that just walking around the room would tire me out, when I'd hike for miles just a few months ago. I was tired of sleeping and sitting down. But there wasn't much else I could do. I did a lot of origami, my bro got me a coloring book, I watched a lot of movies, took my iron -which is nasty btw-, ate meals that were saltier than I normally would prepare but my taste buds would have to adjust. I was happy my new diet included a lot of fish though.

I did have some close calls. I really thought I could stand up in the shower instead of sitting, and wound up calling for my mom to help me up after collapsing. I collapsed again when I was trying to cook dinner for myself. My face, according to my mom, was drained of color and my breathing was shallow. I felt so dizzy and nauseated. She nearly wanted to call the hospital again. My bro said I was pushing myself too hard and I always had a problem with not asking for help. That I needed to learn to stop being so damn stubborn and rest. To anyone else, that sounds harsh, but he knows me way too well, probably better than our mom. I do have that problem, I do push myself too much. After that, I decided to be more patient with myself. I was sick and might be sick for awhile.

This week I'm doing a lot better. I can do my daily things now, I even went to get groceries and take a little walk to the river. But I can't over do it, I can't stand up or walk for too long, and I can't lift anything heavy, otherwise I get bouts of dizziness and need to sit down. The pain isn't as bad on my back anymore though it's still very sore, my arms, especially my left side, have a dull pain. I can't sleep on my back and left side, only my right and on my stomach. A lot of the cuts on the back of my arms and hands have scabbed over, minor bruises are gone but major ones on my shoulder and neck are still pretty dark and tender. I'm still finding glue spots on my chest and stomach from the medical tape and the EKG patches they put on me, but a bit of lotion is taking it off. My stitching, according to my mom, is definitely going to leave a pretty bad scar above my shoulder blade, but it's fine. My body has a lot of scars here and there from close calls, but I consider them ' Marks of Life'. They're proof I survived and thrived.

It'll take time for me to really feel like I'm back to normal. My mom refuses to go back home until I make a full recovery. She hasn't tended to me like this for a long time, mainly because I rarely get sick. I trait from my dad's side. We don't get colds or flus for years, no history of cancer, heart issues or diabetes, and his family usually remain active to their elderly years, not to mention our graceful aging. My dad used to say it was our native blood, we're just built tougher. The only thing that could kill us is getting injured like this. God, he'd be so worried about me though. I remember how he'd fuss over me when I skinned my knee as a child or got my allergies. If he was alive, he'd probably refuse to let me do anything out of bed, but then that's exactly what I should be doing anyway.

I got a report on the other guards health yesterday. Dolores and Elijah. She was the least hurt out of all of us, just a dislocated arm, mild whiplash, and some really bad glass cuts on her chest and arms, she's home recovering with her husband and kids. Elijah was the driver and got knocked unconscious with a bad concussion, his entire left arm was sliced by glass and metal, he lost a lot of blood like me and is recovering just as slow as I am. He opted to stay in the lab medical ward because he doubts his roommate can care for him at home, he's on a lot of pain meds, so he sounded distant on the phone. I think out of all of us, he's going to take the most time to recover. I told him I'd pray for him and if he wants, I can visit. He appreciated that a lot. I thanked Dolores for helping us that night, she was the one trying her best to keep us alive and sent the distress signal on our ARK devices so they could find us in the dark. Without her, I think we would've bled to death.

God, it feels like a distant nightmare. I still can't figure out how we were knocked off the road like that. Something hit us out there and it was strong. I felt the impact in the backseat, but I didn't see it. Dolores says it looked like a bear, but bears aren't that strong. Eli says he saw horns, so maybe a bison. Bison are that strong, especially against a little jeep. The incident is still under investigation. The lab is also very concerned about how this happened. It's possible the same thing that hit us, has been tampering with the fence.

One less thing to worry about is the hospital bill, the accident happened on lab grounds, everything is taken care of through them, probably because they don't want to get sued. They are giving us another two weeks before we report back in to the doctor for another round of tests and physical tests, as well as check to see if my stitches were still secure. Our return to work solely depends on our results, we may not be able to come back until late April. They really want to be sure we're okay. Because I'm an 'Ophanim' aka Tier 3 guard, I'll also be given a mental test before being hooked back into Selene. They just want to be sure there's no cognition issues and I can sync properly to her. I may have to do a refresher since I've been away for so long, but I'll worry about that when it comes.

Well, if you read this far, thanks. I hope I didn't scare you all too much. I am doing a lot a better though, I promise. I'm getting stronger everyday, though activity on this blog will be slow. Send me some prayers, good vibes, whatever. I'd really appreciate anything. Hope you've had a good month, better than mine hopefully.

#Update #medical trauma #accident tw #injury tw #daily update

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violetwolfraven · 4 years

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41 for javid would work so perfectly ahfkfjxhsga and/or 34, whichever one u want 🥺🥺🥺

I was scared to come out and ask you out because I didn’t know our entire friend group was gay but I definitely know now???

and

We broke up but I found the letters you wrote me before that and I still love you so wanna get back together? (did I copy this from one specific fic I read? Possibly.)

Ok! Buckle in your seatbelts, y’all! This is gonna be a MASSIVELY LONG THING! Also @61-flaming-sour-cherry-scones I love your url. Just getting that out there. Modern AU, btw. Also does this end in December, 2019, conveniently avoiding COVID? Possibly! :)

...

Jack didn’t mean to find that box, but in his defense, it was not hidden well. Just in the back of his closet, which he hadn’t cleaned out since... damn. Since the breakup.

And Jack was fine with said breakup, by the way. Him and Davey weren’t right together anymore.

And Jack didn’t smile less, or work himself harder as a distraction, or whatever bullshit his brothers, mom, and all his friends said.

If Davey never texted first anymore, or barely even talked when friends asked him to hang out or whatever, that was none of Jack’s business.

Jack had texted Davey exactly once since the breakup, because Elmer had told him that he had an anxiety attack in a bar, which he was only there in the first place because he was designated driver.

Davey had said he was fine, and that meant he was, right?

Davey had not mentioned anything about leaving a shoebox in Jack’s closet. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t mentioned it, ever.

Did it sting that Jack’s ex had kept a secret box of... something? from him? Maybe. Whatever the case, Jack was curious by nature, and he was definitely opening the box.

It was... letters? Sealed letters in envelopes, the earliest one on the very top, in one corner of the box. The only thing written on it was a date; September 7th, 2011.

That would be... 8th grade? Probably the first day of school? Jack was super confused. Still, he opened the letter.

Dear Jack Kelly,

I know this is terrible and corny and I’m probably going to shred this letter with the pocket knife Sarah got for our last birthday, but I had to write it down somewhere.

I think I’m gay. Specifically, gay for you. And I know that’s weird, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re like the living personification of the moon. (Not the sun. I’ve never understood why people compare their crush to the sun. Nobody likes looking directly at that.) You saw me sitting alone before school and you took me in. I mean it. You brought me over to your friend group and said I was a new kid who was going to be your friend now, and the whole group just adopted me without questioning it. All of you are so nice. At first I thought it was a trick, but then I saw you comforting Blink when he had a panic attack. (Also, I’m still getting used to the nickname thing. That’s still weird and I’m not sure how I feel about the one you gave me.) You were so gentle with him, Jack. You knew exactly how to calm him down and you were so patient with him while you helped Mush drive the fear away. I didn’t think boys our age knew how to be like that. I do now, because of you. Well, and because of Race being, well, Race. I don’t think anyone could mistake him for a bully. Or Crutchie. Or Romeo. Heck, most of your group is just so nice I can barely believe it. I think I’ll bring Saz to meet you tomorrow. She already made a friend, but she said that this girl, Katherine, said she already knows you. Maybe we can all be friends.

I really wish we could be more, but I know that would never work. I can’t tell anyone I’m gay. You’d think I’m a freak. But since you’ll never read this, I can admit it here: I have a massive crush on you, Jack Kelly.

Sincerely, David Davey

Jack was not going to let himself cry about a letter written in 8th fucking grade. He was, however, very confused about why it was in his closet.

A letter from before Davey was out of the closet found in the closet. If Jack wasn’t so goddamn depressed, he would appreciate the irony.

The next letter was dated: September 24th, 2011.

Dear Jack,

We’re all friends now. Gotta say, I already can’t imagine my life without you and the other guys. And maybe I didn’t meet Kath that first day, but she’s probably my best friend, besides you, of course. She’s the only other one with brain cells, besides maybe Specs. Us three had to talk you and the others out of riding a shopping cart Albert stole from Walmart down a hill yesterday. Honestly, would it kill you to be a little smarter? I know for a fact you can be, Jack Kelly. You and the others actually have a fair amount of brain cells each when apart. It’s only when the only group gets together that you all do stupid stuff.

I didn’t shred the first letter. I think maybe I’ll keep these and we can look back someday and laugh about me having a crush on you in middle school. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to get over it before it ruins our friendship.

I honestly don’t see how I’d survive losing you, Jack. So, please, do me a favor and keep being oblivious to how I really feel about you until I digest those butterflies you give me.

Sincerely, Davey

Damn. Reading that was like a punch to the chest and Jack had to take a deep breath before moving on to the next letter.

The next few were just mundane stuff. Little notes on how Jack laughed or interacted with certain friends or whatever. The way he painted each friend something little for the holidays and how they all had a picnic potluck for Thanksgiving.

Then he got to one that was different: January 22nd, 2012. It was written in a panicked, hurried script.

Oh, damn. Jack remembered what this was about. What happened January of 8th grade.

Dear Jack,

Something’s wrong. You’re on my couch right now, crying. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re trying to put on a brave face for Les and failing miserably. Medda didn’t have time to say much when she dropped you, Crutchie, Race, and Romeo off, so all I really know is that Blink is in the hospital and she’s gonna pick up Mush before going to see him. Crutchie is trying to comfort you, by the way, but he’s crying nearly as much as you are. Race and Ro are in shock, I think. They haven’t said much. Sarah’s making them hot cocoa. I’m in my room, writing this really quick because I don’t know what I can do. You’re so good at comforting people, but I don’t know how. I wish I knew how you did it. I think I’ll go try one of the things I’ve seen you do with panic attacks. It’s got to be better than nothing.

The rest was calmer, clearly written later.

It turns out Blink is in the hospital because his dad put him there. And he wouldn’t be alive at all if he didn’t call Mush in a panic right when he heard him get home. Mush called the cops and they barely got there in time. Blink was already half-dead when they did, but they managed to keep him alive long enough to get an ambulance. God, I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if they’d been just a little bit slower.

Medda called you a couple hours ago to let us all know that Blink is in bad shape, but he’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna try to file for custody of him, but Mush’s mom is gonna try, too, just to give him twice as much chance of staying with us. His dad is in jail, but you and me agree that he deserves to die for what he did. In the selfie Blink made Mush send the group chat, there was more bandage visible on his face than skin. It made me so damn angry, but I didn’t show it because you were so angry you almost punched a hole in my wall.

I’ve made a decision, Jack. I can’t be separate from the group anymore. I always hang with Kath off to the side where we can intervene as the voices of reason if needed, but I’m not going to do that anymore, because I. can. not. do this again. I want our friends to trust me like they trust you so maybe if one of them is in a house with a dad that would beat them within an inch of their life, they’ll tell me and I can get them out.

I guess that means I’ll have to get better at lying. I’ve been staying separate mostly to hide my crush. And I think I’m pretty good at that, but being right at the center of things, with you? I’ll have to be careful to make sure no one notices. Especially not you. I hope I can pull it off.

You definitely aren’t making it easy on me, are you? You’re passed out in my bed, for heaven’s sake. But it’s fine. This is fine. I’m fine.

Sincerely, Davey

Jack remembered that night as one of the worst of his life. He’d thought Blink was dead by how Mush sounded when he called. And even though it turned out he wasn’t, he was going to be okay even if he lost an eye, after Jack’s childhood, he’d always hated when he couldn’t protect the people he loved.

Davey had been the one to reach him in that bad place he fell back to, the one where people he loved, kids he considered his little brothers, were getting hurt. Davey had pulled him out of there, and though it would take Jack months to realize it, that was the day he started to fall in love with him.

The next Monday, though, Jack had tried to give him space. Knowing how intimidating it all had to seem, he wasn’t sure if Davey would bail on them.

But he didn’t. Jack had never stopped appreciating how Davey had seen the darkness under the innocent, normal friendship and stayed anyway.

The next few letters were mostly a lot of pining on Davey’s side as he struggled to integrate himself more deeply into the group.

Jack still remembered that shift, how once Davey earned the others’ trust, Jack had gone from being the only one everyone was relying on to half of a pair that a lot of their friends had jokingly called ‘mom and dad.’

It was kind of sad, knowing that for most of them, Jack and Davey gave them more love and attention than their actual parents did, but the two of them would have to do—and they had. For a long time, the two of them were an unstoppable duo of hugs and snacks and homework help.

The letter from June 15th, 2012, had weird spots on it, almost like... almost like tear-marks. It was shorter than the previous ones.

Dear Jack,

Saz just came bouncing into my room to announce that she’s going with you to the Eighth Grade Dance.

I don’t know why I’m sad about it. I knew you and me would never be a thing.

But it still hurts, Jackie. It hurts so much.

I’m going with the rest of the group, just as friends. No one has dates except you, and I think maybe Romeo.

Jack knew for a fact that Blink and Mush had gone together because he remembered accidentally walking in on their first kiss, but apparently, Davey hadn’t known that.

Les is knocking on my door, so I’m gonna have to drop my math textbook on the floor really loudly so I can tell him I’m crying because I fell.

Sincerely, Davey

There wasn’t another letter until 4 months later, Octobe 16th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

So. Something weird just happened. Saz just came into my room and said she’s not going with you to Homecoming because you’re going with Kath. I tried to comfort her, but she didn’t seem sad about it?

She asked me if I wanted to go with anyone and seemed surprised I said I didn’t. (Not like I’m telling her a part of me wishes I could go with you.) Then she mentioned that Blink and Mush are going together, and I don’t see why she cares because if you don’t have a date why not go with a friend, right? Why do girls have to be so confusing?

Sincerely, Davey

Oh. Oh, God.

By the beginning of freshman year, Blink and Mush hadn’t been the only gay couple in their friend group.

Albert and Finch had gotten together over the summer, and so had Smalls and Sniper.

Romeo and Specs were in the ‘flirting terribly’ phase, and though Jack didn’t know it at the time, Race was already sneaking around with Spot by that point.

Ike had asked Hotshot to that Homecoming, though they wouldn’t officially become boyfriends until almost a year later, Buttons and Elmer became official at that dance, and Jojo and Mike had that falling out because of misread signals towards the end of it.

Hell, Jack only went to that dance with Kath because she couldn’t let her parents know she was actually going with Saz.

Homecoming freshman year was... eventful, to say the least.

And Davey had known exactly none of this. That... explained a lot.

Being only freshmen, none of the couples were exactly casual in their relationships. They didn’t kiss in front of people, and a few were too embarrassed to so much as sit next to each other at lunch. With the ones who weren’t embarrassed, it still honestly wasn’t much more than the affection they all already showed among friends.

God, if Jack had known how scared Davey was to come out, as he said in the next few letters, he would have... what? Told him he loved him right then and there? Probably not, but he would have done something differently.

The next really significant letter was dated December 11th 12th, 2012.

Dear Jack,

I have no idea what to think.

I’m in the bathroom right now, and it’s just after midnight on 12/12/12. You and your brothers threw a party in case the world ended with the whole friend group. It was kind of like a New Year’s party, but with a lot more cynical talk about the coming apocalypse and bet placing on what said apocalypse would be. Towards the end, we all got caught up in the drama and sleep-deprivation and started giving speeches about how much we loved each other. It was cringy, but in a good way? I’m sure we’ll laugh about it someday.

Or maybe we won’t. Because I have no idea what to think anymore.

Oh, shit. This was the part Jack was kind of dreading reading.

I’ve been terrified to come out because I thought I’d get kicked out of the group if you guys knew I was gay.

Which was why it was such a shock when the countdown to midnight ended and half my friends kissed friends of the same gender.

Jack remembered yelling at them to break it up. He’d been so busy being exasperated with his kids that he hadn’t even noticed Davey had slipped away until Crutchie pointed it out.

It was quick, so I don’t think I could name all the pairs if I tried, but I definitely saw Sarah kiss Kath, which, honestly, explains a lot.

I can’t help but wonder... Why didn’t anyone tell me? How long has this been going on? Has it been since the beginning and I was just too oblivious to see it?

Oh my God. Now that I’m looking for it, I can’t stop seeing it. The way Blink is defensive and angry all the time and he’s soft for Mush. The way Sarah hates spending time on her hair and she’ll sit for hours letting Kath try out styles on her. The way Buttons and Elmer just do little things for each other every day. None of them are subtle and I am an idiot.

Jack had to laugh at that.

Does this mean I should come out, too? I know now no one would judge me for it, but... I don’t want to mess things up. I love our friends, and I don’t want to lose them. If I lost them, now, it would be because I like you, specifically. Would you be disgusted with me if I told you?

“No,” Jack whispered, before remembering that this was 14-year-old Davey, and he wasn’t here.

I like to think you wouldn’t be, but I can’t risk it. If I lose you, I lose all of them. And if I have doubts about if I could live through losing you, I definitely can’t survive losing everyone. I love them all so much. I love you.

Jack sucked in a breath. As far as he knew, this was the first time Davey had ever said anywhere that he loved Jack.

But I can’t tell you that. So if I come out, it definitely won’t be by saying who I like.

Love, Davey

Jack totally wasn’t crying as he reached for the next letter. It was just current events, random stuff. There were certainly a lot of letters, weren’t there? Davey had documented everything, from Jack attempting to teach him to draw, to the time they both auditioned for the school play, to that time they had to talk Jojo off a ledge when he realized he loved Mike. That one was short but bad. (Honestly, Jack still hated Jojo’s super religious parents for that. Fuck Jojo’s parents.)

Davey did come out in a letter from almost six months later, but it wasn’t until Homecoming sophomore year that things started getting really interesting.

Dear Jack,

I honestly might never talk to you again outside these letters. Sarah’s banging on my door telling me to, and I’m quoting her here, “open the fuck up, David Jacobs.” Mom’s yelling back at her to watch her language. They’re now having a screamed bitching match in the hallway.

Long story short, we were at Homecoming and you asked me to dance. My brain kind of short-circuited, but I said yes right as a slow song came on. Shockingly, you didn’t seem to mind, and you danced with me to Photograph by Ed Sheeran.

Oh, God, Jack remembered that song. It had been their song. He still couldn’t listen to it anymore.

You were singing along to it and smiling at me. It was really sweet, and it was kind of my dream, to be honest, and I guess I lost all control of my body for a second because I kissed you during the last chorus and I didn’t stop kissing you until the end of the song.

Jack remembered that like it was yesterday, because it was their first kiss. It was a million perfect colors exploding across Jack’s brain and feelings he could barely identify swirling into a moment more beautiful than any painting he could ever create.

Then a faster song came on and I don’t know if anyone saw, but I really hope they didn’t because if they did that means they saw what happened next. Which is: I ran away. I ran all the way to my car and drove home and locked myself in my room. Sarah came home not 5 minutes later, so I think she knows, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t know how I can face you after this. In hindsight I think you were kissing me back, and if you were that means I just ran out on you and it probably hurt when I did. If not, that’s even worse because I kissed you and you probably just didn’t pull away out of pity.

Holy shit, I think you’re here, now. I can hear you outside my door with Saz, and maybe Kath, too. She’s trying to calm her down, which, honestly, good luck, Kath. Wait. No. Shit. I guess being her girlfriend has its benefits. It’s just you, now. You’re talking really softly, but I can’t understand you through the door. This is why we enunciate, Jackie.

Jack rolled his eyes on reflex.

I’m still pretty scared, but I think I’m gonna open the door. Scratch that, I’m definitely gonna open it. If you yell at me, I’ll probably yell right back. Funny, isn’t it? How I never would have done that before meeting you? If we have a huge fight, remember that you’re the one who taught me not to censor myself. David never would have even opened that door, but Davey is your monster. Good luck. I’ve out-argued you before, Jackie, so you’ll need it.

I should stop stalling and open the damn door.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Love, Davey

Reading that last sentance, Jack froze.

If you break my heart, Jack Kelly, I’m going to kill you.

Time was a bitch, because by all accounts, they were both broken-hearted, now.

Jack wiped away his tears and realized there was a little bit more writing.

P.S. I guess you get to live, Jackie, because we had a talk and you kissed me again and now we’re together. Like, boyfriends. I can’t stop smiling. It’s stupid. I’m probably not going to sleep tonight and it’s all your fault because my stomach is full of butterflies and I can’t stop thinking about how much I love you.

Jack didn’t let himself process that, going for the next letter instead.

Oh, shit. November 1st, 2013. This was going to be a bad one. Still, Jack took a deep breath and started reading.

Dear Jack,

Well, today was emotionally draining. (Halloween was fun, but what came after definitely is not.) It’s already past midnight, but it’s okay because I’m sleeping over at your house tonight. After Saz and I explained the situation, Mom and Dad agreed we should. God, said situation it makes me so angry.

Katherine’s parents kicked her out. They found out about her and Sarah, made her pack a bag, and tossed her away like she was nothing.

She’s 16. She’s a goddamn child like the rest of us. How could they do that to her? I guess it’s good she’s out of that environment, where she has to hide who she is and walk on eggshells with every conversation, but she’s on your couch right now, crying so hard she can’t even drink the tea Medda made her. Sarah and you are trying to calm her down, but I hate seeing her like this. Kath always seems kind of unshakable, like nothing anyone says will get to her. I’ve never seen her this broken. Judging by the look you’re giving me from across the room, you haven’t, either.

You think I’m making a grocery list. Medda told me to, seeing as how she’s busy helping clean out your guest room, Saz is on ‘shoulder to cry on’ duty, and I’m the only boy who lives with a girl. Kath didn’t get to pack much more than a couple of outfits and her toothbrush.

You know what? Fuck it. You and me are her parents, now. You’re good with that, right? We’re already stand-in Mom and Dad for several of our friends—what’s one more? Ha ha, you and me have so much practice already that we are going to be great parents for real one day.

Jack sucked in a breath. Real parents? As in, the two of them staying together long enough to have kids?

Wow. That is wildly inappropriate to think about when we’re literally a couple of 15-year-olds. Also, it makes me think about how Kath is technically a few months older, but whatever. I guess I should actually make that grocery list, now, and stop daydreaming about a hypothetical future while one of our kids now is sobbing across the room from me.

Love, Davey

Davey had never even told Jack he wanted kids.

Sure, they were both a little young for that, but in the future..? Jack had always been scared that he wouldn’t be a good dad, after never having a good dad, himself, but sophomore year Davey was right. He had gotten a fair amount of practice with his friends.

That night, when Kath showed up at the Larkin house, crying so hysterically the makeup from her Halloween costume was running and saying she didn’t know where else to go, Davey was the first person Jack called. Him and Sarah had shown up not fifteen minutes later, probably having been lucky not to pick up a speeding ticket (or you know, gotten arrested for underage driving without an adult) on the way.

15-year-old Davey was right. That night was the most broken Jack had ever seen Katherine. Even if it had worked out okay in the end, with Kath staying with them and being their new sister in every way but on paper, Jack still kind of wanted to throat-punch her parents.

It was... oddly comforting, to know that Davey felt the same. He hadn’t shown it back then, knowing Kath needed him calm, but... to be honest, Jack would have feared an angry Davey Jacobs more than an angry Jack Kelly. You’d get punched by an angry Jack, but an angry Davey? He was smart enough to burn down your world. Jack smirked, thinking about how lucky the Pulitzers were that Davey possessed impulse control.

Most of the rest of the letters were just Davey talking about their relationship as it evolved or recounting whatever drama happened to be going on, (with one in the middle of junior year that was basically just ‘wtf Race is secretly dating Spot Conlon???’) because as the only group of out gays in the school, a few of whom happened to be in not-so-good homes, there was always drama.

Then came the stress of senior year, SATs, and college applications. Davey and Jack had a few fights, which were all well documented here. 17-year-old Jack and Davey hadn’t known that those fights were the beginning of the end.

The letter dated June 5th, 2016 was the one that finally made Jack cry for real .

Dear Jack,

We’re fighting again. We have before, but this time, it’s actually serious.

I get that you’re going to school in Santa Fe and I’m staying in New York. What—did you expect me to follow you all the way across the country? I’m not asking you to stay, because that wouldn’t be fair of me. You’ve got dreams and a scholarship to an art school and that is great. I’m happy for you. But I’m not going with you, because why would I? I’ve got dreams, too. Did you think I would put my life on hold for you?

We can’t stay kids forever, Jackie. Growing up means things change. I thought you knew that. Our friends are spreading out across the country and most of the couples aren’t going to be in the same state. Hell, Specs is going to Harvard in Massachusetts and Romeo is moving to Hollywood to go try his luck and they’re not having problems. If your own brother can do the long-distance thing, why can’t you?

I’m scared, too. I don’t want to lose you, either. I know doing a long-distance thing won’t be easy, but when was the last time either of us gave up just because it was hard? Jackie, if I wanted something easy, I would have bailed after we almost lost Blink. My love for you aside, I didn’t because that’s. not. me. I fight for what I love. And I know you do, too, so... so fight for me. I need to know you love me enough to fight for me, Jackie.

I know you. When you want something—really want it, there is not a force in this world that can stop you from fighting for it. I love you, Jack Kelly. I’m not going to stop fighting for you, so please don’t stop fighting for me.

Love, Davey

Jack choked on a sob. He’d failed. Davey had asked him to fight for him and he failed.

Sure, he hadn’t known that Davey wanted him to fight for him, but... God, if he had...

Jack would have fought, would have walked through hell, would have done anything to keep Davey by his side.

He still loved Davey, no matter what he’d been telling himself since the breakup, and... And he needed to read the rest of these letters. Even if Davey started hating him when the fighting got really bad or wrote about what he was feeling during it.

Shit. There weren’t that many more. The remaining letters were spread out somewhere between high school graduation and when Jack and Davey broke up; a year and a half ago, and... and those would probably be the hardest ones to read

Jack waited a bit until the tears had stopped before opening the one from November 20th, 2016.

Dear Jack,

I haven’t wrote one of these in a while. College has been a bitch, but also...

You and me barely talk anymore. We text each other memes about once a week, (don’t worry. you still know exactly how to make me laugh with those dumb little shitposts.) but we don’t really talk. I can’t remember the last time we FaceTimed. I miss you, but I don’t know how to say it anymore.

I’m thinking about this because it’s Thanksgiving break. Of course, it’s good to see everyone. Kath got home this morning. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. Elmer texted me a couple minutes ago that he’s an hour away. Of course that dumbass is driving all the way from Michigan. I’m sure we’ll both have more than enough words for him when you get back because you’re flying in tonight.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I should be excited, but... I don’t think I’ve been this nervous about anything involving you since I ran away after our first kiss. I think I preferred it last year, when we were fighting, because even when we were pissed at each other, at least we were communicating.

You remember when we were kids and you always knew exactly what to say exactly when someone needed to hear it? How you helped calm down Kath when she got kicked out, talked Jojo off a roof, and convinced Spot to tell Race he loved him? It was amazing. I never quite mastered that. I usually know what to do, just never how to voice it. But this time, I don’t even know what to do. We’re not on the same page anymore. I don’t think we’re even in the same book.

Jack took a shaky breath. He and Davey hadn’t been on the same page. And Jack definitely hadn’t known what to say to him, either. They weren’t the unstoppable duo they’d been in high school.

But... damn. Those things Davey had mentioned him doing? He couldn’t have done those alone. For all of those, he had needed Davey there, helping him. Maybe that was why it was so hard, being there for anyone since the breakup.

I hate how five years of being an unstoppable duo can be undone in only four months, and it wasn’t even by fighting. If it was a fight, we could solve it, you and me vs. the problem. But there’s no fight, no problem. It’s just you and me and the growing chasm between us.

You know what? It’s probably just the distance messing with us. We’ll be fine. We just need some time together. Thanksgiving will be good for us. And I’m flying out to Santa Fe for the winter holidays to spend it with you, so that’ll be good, too.

I’m gonna text you right now. Your flight probably won’t be leaving for another hour or so, so we can talk. Get back in rhythm.

I still don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll just ask about how hot Santa Fe is in winter and we can go from there. Here’s hoping this makes things get less awkward.

Love, Davey

Jack remembered that text conversation with Davey in the airport. He remembered how much hope it had given him, and how after Jack went back to Santa Fe when the holiday was over, how much better Davey and him had been. That Christmas/Hanukkah had been great, especially considering most of Jack’s classmates were at home and they’d had the dorm to themselves.

Of course their friends and families had known that was why Jack didn’t come home that year, and he distinctly remembered getting texts from all three of his brothers on Christmas morning asking if Davey was good in bed, but that was besides the point.

The next several letters were from their second wind, the rest of the school year. And yeah, they were hard to read, but they brought back happy memories. Even only seeing each other over breaks and computer screens, it seemed that Davey was happy, too. For a while, it had seemed that Jack could have his dreams of art school in Santa Fe and the love of his life.

Then, of course, during that summer of staying together at whichever house more often than not, they started fighting again. Over nothing. Over stupid things. Over who loaded the dishwasher wrong and who said he was going to pick Les up from his friend’s house.

Then they started fighting over big things. Over harsh words Jack never meant and judging by these letters, Davey didn’t meant, either.

August 2nd, 2017:

Dear Jack,

I fucked up. We just had a big fight, I said a bunch of things I didn’t mean, and like an idiot, I let you leave for the airport without apologizing. Now, you’re acting like your phone is already on airplane mode even though I know for a fact your flight doesn’t leave for another hour. Also, I can see that you’ve read all of my texts, you moron, so I know you’re just ignoring me.

Aw, hell, I don’t even blame you. I said some really bad things. I said you love your art more than me, and I know that’s not true. I know you’d never prioritize material things over the people you love, because Jackie, you prioritize those people who have earned your loyalty over everything, including your own mental and physical health. I know because it annoys the hell out of me, how you never give yourself a break. They’re all adults now, Jackie. They don’t need us as much anymore and you never stop acting like they do.

I shouldn’t be angry with you for that. I know with your childhood, trying to protect Crutchie, Race, and Romeo and sometimes failing, you still feel like you have to save everyone. It’s how you’re wired and I love that about you. I wouldn’t change it if I could. I just wish you’d stop running yourself into the ground to do it.

Is this it? I already feel like we’re on borrowed time, here. Sarah says she thought we were going to break up last year. Kath says she’s sure it’s not that bad. (they’re talking about it very loudly in the hallway. or maybe they’re arguing. who knows?) Les just said that my mom said nobody marries their high school sweetheart. (thanks, Mom.)

I think even if we never said it, that’s what we were both hoping for. I know you, Jackie. I’ve watched your favorite romcoms and Disney movies. I know you want the perfect fairytale relationship with the whole package of ‘and they get married and have kids and live happily ever after.’ And I want that, too. I really wanted it with you. Ugh! I still want it with you! I can’t imagine any alternate universe where I don’t want that with you!

It’s probably inappropriate to think about all that. We’re nineteen. We’re not even old enough to drink yet and we’re definitely too young for me to be thinking about marrying you.

Jack inhaled sharply. Oh, God. He was going to cry again.

But for the record... I do want to. I want everything with you and I cannot imagine any circumstance, any extreme, any bad breakup where I stop wanting that.

Just to be safe, though, in case something I can’t foresee happens and I never say it again...

I love you, Jack Kelly. I have loved you from the first day I met you and I can’t see anything happening in any version of reality that makes me stop loving you. You’re still like the living personification of the moon to me and no matter how much you piss me off, Jackie, your glow doesn’t fade. You shined a light on the parts of me afraid of judgement and taught me to shine, too, despite them.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you and I probably never will. I just need you to know that.

Love, Davey

Jack was already crying, but he panicked as he realized there was only two more letters.

A part of him wanted to wait. These were words Davey hadn’t spoken to him. These were the last pieces of Davey that were still Jack’s.

But he needed to know. Were these letters from before they actually broke up? After? Had Davey been wrong in the previous letter and he’d stoped loving Jack?

There were no dates on the envelopes. Still, Jack had to know. He took a deep breath and opened the second-to-last one, the paper covered in old, dried tear marks.

Dear Jack,

We had another stupid fight and we tried to fix it but that just ended in more yelling. That’s happened a few times before, now, but this time, it was different.

Oh, no. This must be from the big one Spring Break of their sophomore year of college.

Jack had come home for the break, it had been great to see his friends, but then he and Davey had started fighting. Like, really fighting. Worse than they ever had before.

And then there was the big one. It was two days before Jack flew back to Santa Fe. It was the one where they actually broke up.

This time, you told me to leave. And I kind of yelled at you to just go back to Santa Fe as you shoved me out the door. Then you yelled that if I wanted you to fly away so badly, I shouldn’t bother visiting again and you slammed the door in my face.

I think we just broke up. I’d be angry about it if I wasn’t so damn sad.

God, this is messed up. I know you’re alone on your bed with those stupid Star Wars sheets you’ve had since you were twelve and you locked the door because you don’t want anyone to see you cry. Thinking about that makes me want to run right back there and say I’m sorry.

I wanted to do that the second I got back to my parents’ house, but they convinced me not to. Sarah yelled at them for it. She said I had to make my own decision. They said I’m too emotional to think clearly. They’re right, of course, which is why I’m here writing this and not on my way back to your mom’s house already.

Now, Les is the only one outside my door. Are Crutchie, Race, Romeo, or Kath outside yours? Les is trying to guilt me into opening the door by telling me he cancelled a date for me. I’m not weirded out at all by the fact that my baby brother has way more game than I did when I was fourteen.

Are we really done, Jackie? For good? I keep waiting to hear you out in the hallway. And probably Kath, because she’s a better driver than you. I can’t keep thinking about this. I’m just gonna to go to sleep.

Davey

Jack wiped his eyes furiously. There was one more letter and he needed to read it, consequences be damned.

This last letter was probably from when Davey cooled down. Maybe the next morning or something. If he didn’t hate Jack while he was emotional and raw from the initial breakup, he might in this letter. But Jack opened it, anyway.

My Dearest Jack,

We really are broken up. You haven’t called me, but I got a very angry text-rant from Crutchie (for which he apologized 10 minutes later) which basically boiled down to him saying I broke your heart. Romeo called me, said ‘dude, not cool,’ then hung up. Race and Medda seem to be trying to see both sides, and though Kath did tell me that the last few months have been like ‘listening to mom and dad fight downstairs,’ she’s not offering any advice. I think she and Sarah are waiting for me to come to them.

I’m so sorry, Jackie. I know this is mostly my fault. Still, I can’t make the first move. Don’t forget: I know you. You’re more concerned with other people’s feelings than yours, so if I ask you to take me back and you do it, I can’t be sure you didn’t just do it for me. If we ever get back together, it has to be because you want it, too. However, I know you won’t even consider we could get back together unless I give you a sign, which is why I’m leaving you my letters.

You went back to Santa Fe two weeks ago and I’m finally stable enough to come get my stuff from your house and drop off what little you left in my room. While I’m there, I’m gonna hide this somewhere. I guess we’ll both have to pray no one else in your family finds it. That would be awkward.

When you find this, I want you to think long and hard about what you want, Jackie. I want you to make a decision for you. Goddammit, think about yourself first for once.

If you fight for me, I want you to do it because it’s what you really want. That fairytale romcom ending with me is still yours if you play your cards right. (Don’t think I forgot all the hurtful things you said to me, even if I’m 70% sure you didn’t mean them.) It might take... I dunno, therapy or something, but I still think we can fix this. It won’t be easy, but neither is love. Neither is our entire messed-up, broken group of friends.

I used to think I’d lose all of them if I lost you. Maybe I would have, if I’d messed up like this in 8th grade. But now, I know I won’t, because they’re all blowing up my phone as much as I’m sure they’re blowing up yours, asking if I’m okay. I see now that they need me as much as I need them. And they still need you, too, even if you do need to accept a little more that we’re all grown-ups now.

Where was I going with this? I had a point.

I guess all there’s left to say is that if you still want that perfect ending with me—getting married and having kids and having them call all our friends ‘auntie’ and ‘uncle’—fight for it. Loving someone the way I’m in love with you doesn’t happen twice, so I’m not going anywhere. You know where to find me.

You probably won’t find this for a while. Hell, you’re not even coming home again until summer break. But that’s probably a good thing. It gives us both some time to cool off and think.

So think, Jackie. Think long and hard and make a choice. Fight for me or don’t. In case I never get a chance to say it in person again...

I love you, Jack Kelly.

Love, Davey

Oh shit.

Davey left this in Jack’s closet a year and a half ago. He’d probably expected Jack to find it that summer. In fact, he probably thought Jack had found it and just decided not to fight for him.

Jack still wanted to fight for him. He had no doubts about that.

But did his have to discover this box now? When he was leaving for Santa Fe to finish his senior year tomorrow?

Fuck it. Even if it had been almost two years, even if there was a high chance Davey wasn’t waiting for him anymore, he still had to do this

Driving to the Jacobs house right then and there was probably the stupidest thing Jack had ever done, and that was including riding that Walmart shopping cart Albert stole down a hill in 8th grade with Race, Romeo, and Albert when Davey, Kath, and Specs weren’t there to stop them.

Sarah was the one who opened the door, and she... Jack hadn’t talked to Saz since the breakup, since she’d been staying mad at him out of solidarity. Honestly, he was now realizing that he’d missed her nearly as much as he’d missed Davey. They’d been good friends, once upon a time.

Now, she glared at him, “The fuck are you doing here, Kelly?”

“I...” Jack honestly couldn’t think of a good way to explain this, “Is he home?”

Sarah snorted, “What? After a year and a half, you’ve finally come to your senses and realized you’ll never find another one like my brother?”

“I never planned on anyone like him in the first place,” Jack snapped, “Davey was always... even back in middle school... You think I’d ever believe I could find someone else like that? I’m dumb, Saz, but I ain’t stupid. I always knew I was givin’ up on forever when I didn’t try to get him back, but... but I thought he didn’t want me anymore.”

Sarah froze, then leaned against the doorframe, laughing kind of hopelessly, “You are stupid, Jack Kelly, if you think my brother wasn’t totally gone for you and totally broken-hearted when you didn’t try to fight for him.”

Jack definitely had an oh shit moment, “Wait, do you know? About the..?”

“The box of letters he left you? Yeah. He told me last year, after you left for junior year without coming for him.”

Jack took the last letter out of his pocket, “I just found it.”

Saz took a second to process that before motioning for Jack to come in, shouting up the stairs, “Davey! Get your butt down here!”

Les, sitting at the kitchen table, looked up from his sandwich, “Holy shit. Jack?”

“Hi, kid,” Jack said, trying not to be weirded out by how the now-16-year-old was taller than him.

“Davey?” Sarah yelled again, clearly impatient.

“Alright, alright! God, Saz, what couldn’t wait 10 se—“ That was when Davey looked up, seeing Jack in his kitchen.

“That couldn’t wait,” Sarah said pointedly, “Les, let’s go... not be here.”

“If I eat in my room, Mom’ll kill me,” Les said, picking up his sandwich, anyway.

“Eat in my room, then.”

Jack and Davey were silent until the other two Jacobs siblings were upstairs.

“Why are you here, Jack?”

Jack had to take a deep breath before he responded, “When was the last time you went somewhere besides school if somebody didn’t drag you out of the house?”

“What?”

“Do the people who love you say you’ve changed? Do they keep saying they need a designated driver only to try to get you drinking and dancing like it’ll make you smile?”

“What are you—“

“Are there songs you can’t listen to? Movies you can’t watch? Have you so much as called someone back when they gave you their number?”

“Jack,” Davey looked at the ceiling, “What’s this about?”

“You once said you wouldn’t put your life on hold for me,” Jack said, “And you were right not to. I can be overprotective, sometimes. No one should put their dreams on hold because of a lover, but... my dreams are the only thing I haven’t put on hold, Dave. I ain’t been living since I lost you. Not really. And when our friends all said I was smilin’ less, I never let myself think about it, because if I did, I’d have to think about how much I was still hurtin’ over you.”

Davey laughed sady, “Jack, if you really wanted me, you would have fought for me a long time ago, so—“

“You’re talkin’ about the letters?” Jack asked, holding up the one he had on him, “Davey... I just found them. Today.”

Davey was silent, his face completely unreadable. Jack was holding his breath.

“Jack Kelly,” he finally smiled, “I should have known you would take this long to clean out your damn closet.”

“I think you spent enough time in the closet for the both of us.” Jack joked.

Davey rolled his eyes, “Very funny, Jackie. Anyway... I don’t think it’s any secret that we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“Of course not.”

“So... coffee? If we’re trying again, I’d prefer to take things slow.”

Jack nodded, “Probably a good thing I’m going back to Santa Fe after tomorrow. That ain’t enough time for us to do something we’ll regret.”

“Yeah, I guess mostly just texting is one way to take it slow... speaking of which, one of us should probably text the group chat.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack grinned, “They’re gonna freak.”

#newsies #javid #javey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack and davey are the mom and dad friends #sarah jacobs #katherine plumber #background newsbians #background blush #background spromeo #background belmerttons #slight angst #violet’s writing

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incorrectspnforfun · 4 years

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^^ nah, dw, it didn't ruin the show for me. thanks for your opinion. i just wanted to build on what you said, sorry it's long XD you're right that they did mention other characters, and there was the montage, and who knows, maybe the lack of other characters in 15x20 is just because of covid. the thing for me is that sam living this "normal life" and never mentioning hunting, and dean dying young on a hunt, those are the endings they would have gotten had they stayed on their respective paths 1/

at the beginning of 1x1, so it feels like doing all those things since then and changing their destiny (at least i think they did that? feel free to correct me if i'm wrong) didn't really matter. plus i always thought that dean’s line of "going down swinging, guns blazing" was just something to hide his fear of doing exactly that. dean was planning to retire as a hunter, he had managed to completely distance himself from being "daddy's little soldier", but in the end he still died his dad's case? he got out and then was pulled back in just to die, it's... sad. also, you're absolutely right that the core of the story is about the brothers' relationship. but i think this relationship evolved with time. in the beginning it was just the two of them, and it was "toxic codependency" (i think that's how other characters said it?), but as they grew up and met other people they... didn't exactly grow apart, but they took some distance, at least emotionally speaking, and their relationship became way healthier because of that. maybe i'm just imagining things, but this final episode, with a road trip case a la season 1 and barely mentioning other characters, felt like going back to the beginning (...which was probably the whole point ^^") and almost erasing the fact that they became different people since then. idk if that makes sense? also, the actors were always very vocal about mental health issues, but this final episode showed us traumatized characters ending up either dead or living unhappy, and only being happy once they’re dead. i *do not* like this subtext. i know it's definitely not their fault, they said they didn't like the ending way before we knew what the ending was, but *someone* decided this was a good way to end a story that was, at its core, all about hope. sorry, it was even longer than i planned ^^"

Alright. I just cut all of them together so it was more or less consecutive lol. Let’s try to break all this down! (And no worries about the long response! I’m happy to talk about it, and I’m so glad you’re sharing your thoughts! I really appreciate you taking the time to type all of that out! <3)

For starters, I’m really glad it didn’t ruin the show for you. I’ve heard a lot of fans saying that it’s their ex-favorite show now and they can never watch it again because they didn’t like the finale, and that makes me really sad, so I’m glad to see someone who still appreciates the show even if the finale wasn’t their fave. :)

In terms of lack of characters because of COVID, I think that’s definitely true. I know the cast and crew had been saying that they wanted more guest stars in the last two episodes, but they had to take some of them out because of COVID concerns. Overall though, they did say that it didn’t change the core story they wanted to tell too much, so I think the Sam and Dean-centric ending would’ve still been like that, but maybe with a few more character appearances (like Shoshannah Stern, for example. I really believe that the reason Sam’s wife was blurred out was because they couldn’t get Shoshannah Stern back for some reason, but they wanted us to believe it was Eileen).

When it comes to the boys’ destiny, to me--and, in my opinion, this is exactly what the show was trying to show us--their destiny was always supposed to be one brother kills the other. It was the destiny meant for them at the end of Season 5, and it was the destiny and final ending that Chuck had written for them at the end of Season 15. But, time and time again, the brothers’ love for each other and love for the world kept pushing against that destiny. In the end, by defeating Chuck, and by helping each other up and not backing down, they did write their own destiny and fight against it and, ultimately, give themselves free will.

Now, in thinking about Dean’s death and the brothers’ codependency (yes, you were right, that’s what the angels and such called it), I see your point about Dean’s words being a mask for his fear, and while I agree that he often did use them in that way, in the end, I think his fear was less about dying on a hunt and more about dying alone, but also about making sure that he isn’t taking Sam down with him. His death scene in 15x20 says that loud and clear. Sam tries to leave to get him help, but all Dean wants is for Sam to stay with him, and then his last request is for Sam to come closer so that he can make sure his little brother is okay. That said, though, I do agree with you that they’ve taken some emotional distance from each other and had a healthier relationship because of it--which is why, despite Dean dying and Sam surviving, Sam let him go and didn’t try to bring him back, because they had achieved that emotional distance.

All of that in mind, I, personally, feel like the only way this story could end was with Dean dying and Sam living to old age, eventually joining his brother in heaven--so basically, exactly what we got.

I hear a lot of people saying that Dean deserved to live a normal life and live to old age--he had that job application on his desk, he had a dog, etc.--but while I agree that he deserved that happy life, I feel like it wouldn’t have been happy for him. Dean’s tried the normal life thing before, several times, and it’s never worked for him. He can’t stay away from hunting for too long, because he’ll always be looking over his shoulder, and/or he’ll always be worried about his brother. If Sam would have died, he also never would’ve forgiven himself or gotten over it and wouldn’t have been able to live a normal life. In general, as much as I would love for Dean to live a normal life and have a chance at happiness, it’s never fit his character. Even with the growth he’s experienced in the last several years, the way he’s grown up and the things he’s been through just won’t let him experience an apple pie life.

Sam, on the other hand, has always had a connection to a normal lifestyle and has always had more of an ability to have that. If you ask me, a lot of that is because of Dean--since Dean grew up so fast, Sam never had to, so he had a chance to go through normal childhood experiences and learn how to live a life outside of hunting. As such, his attempts at a normal life usually were pretty successful, and it follows that any attempts he makes in the future could be successful too. The big thing that stops all of that, though, is Dean. While Sam, in the last several years, has said that he’s okay with his hunting lifestyle and happy doing what he’s doing, it’s less about the actual hunting and more about being with his brother. Sam, in general, is miserable in the hunting lifestyle. It’s not what ultimately makes him happy, but being with his brother does. Because of that, he accepts the lifestyle for everything that comes with it because it means bonding with Dean and seeing him happy. As such, he can’t live a normal life if Dean’s around, because he knows it’s not what Dean wants, deep down, and it would mess with the dynamic they’ve built through all these years of hunting. So, the only way Sam can live a normal life is if Dean dies (kind of like in Season 8. When he thought his brother was dead, he actually did live a normal life for a while, and he probably would’ve continued to do that for the rest of his life if Amelia’s husband hadn’t come back and if Dean hadn’t come back).

Now, with all of that said, you’re right in that this does connect directly to how the brothers likely would’ve ended up in Season 1. However, what’s different is the strong bond that Sam and Dean have now developed over the years. Yes, if Dean hadn’t gotten Sam at Stanford way back in Season 1, Sam (probably) would’ve lived a white picket fence life, and Dean would’ve died on a hunt. The difference, though, is that both of those things would’ve happened without either brother being aware of what the other was up to and, frankly, probably not necessarily caring as much (in Sam’s case anyways).

With the Season 15 ending, though, Sam lived his white picket fence life, but his entire life was built in tribute to his brother. He named his son Dean, he kept the Impala, he had pictures of the two of them all around his house, and his son even had an anti-possession tattoo. While Sam was able to live a normal life, he never forgot about his brother, and Dean was--just like he said in his death scene--always in his heart and always remembered, because of all that they had shared for the last fifteen years.

The same goes for Dean. While Dean did die on a hunt like he normally would’ve, if Dean had died in Season 1, he would’ve gone up to heaven, relived his best memories (which all probably would’ve been with kid!Sam), and that would’ve been it. Instead, in Season 15, we see Dean go to a heaven that’s been re-created into something that he deserves by people who love him and who he loves very much (Jack and Cas) that he (and Sam) were able to influence heavily. And yet, with the entirety of heaven open to him to see anyone he wants (including Cas), what does he do? He goes for a drive and waits for his brother--the brother that he’s bonded with for the last fifteen years. He could see anyone, and in Season 1, if heaven had been like that, he probably would’ve. But instead, he just sits and waits for his brother, because ultimately, that’s who makes him happy. We never would’ve gotten that if it weren’t for the bond that Sam and Dean created with each other in the last fifteen years.

As for the “traumatized characters ending up either dead or living unhappy, and only being happy once they’re dead” subtext, that’s completely valid, and I can see how that would be upsetting. Personally, I didn’t see it that way at all, mostly because I feel like the characters weren’t necessarily happy after they were dead. Dean was only happy in heaven once Sam was with him, and Sam actually was happy throughout his life with his family, even if he was still mourning his brother, and ultimately, he was able to live a life and continue that happiness in heaven when he reunited with Dean. Cas was happy before he died (hence, why he died) because he finally admitted his love for Dean. While I fully acknowledge that not a lot of them necessarily got the chance to deal with their trauma in a prolonged way, I feel like their individual deaths helped them cope in some way. That’s just my opinion though, and I can definitely understand where you’re coming from.

Sorry it took me so long to answer this, but I hope that all makes sense! (Also sorry mine was so long too! Lol.) <3

#spn spoilers #15x20 #spn season 15 #carry on #spn series finale #my thoughts

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randomactsofpigeon · 3 years

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Personal. Also like... all the trigger warnings, I’m out of spoons to figure out tags for all this shit. No reblogs please. This is just a diary post because writing to myself never does any good, but writing in public sometimes helps.

My mother is the most emotionally unavailable person I’ve ever met. I know the reasons why. Her father was an abusive POS. I’m not sure if there was physical abuse because she rarely talks about it, but it wouldn’t surprise me. There was significant emotional abuse, including that the man had six children but wanted to pretend he lived in a household with none. She wasn’t allowed to ever publicly express emotion in her own home. This has manifested as an adult as an inability to understand or express her own emotions, and a profound discomfort with emotional displays or emotionally-impacting negative events of any kind. She will go out of her way to pretend things that very much happened did not happen, because she can’t cope with it.

I have spent a large share of my adult life trying to reconcile how wholly inadequate this was from the standpoint of her child, and how it’s in turn fucked me up, with the fact that she’s an abuse survivor and that isn’t her fault.

It’s hard to have a mother that has never and will never be there for you, to know you grew up having to cope with literally every last fucking hurt on your own, that you never learned to be excited about anything, or how to share things or ask for help, and NOT blame her. And then comes the ocean of guilt because blaming abuse survivors is bad. But these things can be true at the same time: her inadequacies profoundly impacted me and continue to do so this day, and the abuse wasn’t her fault. It is complicated and contradictory and nuanced and frustrating.

To put this in context, I fantasized about having cancer for a large part of my childhood. Because if I was seriously, physically ill, then I might get the warmth, attention, comfort, and support I desperately needed, because then it would finally be bad enough to deserve it. (I didn’t understand it that clearly as a child; I just knew that being very sick was appealing to me for some reason. This is years of therapy helping me understand.)

(Also, my dad is a separate post. For anyone wondering where he was. Long story short present in a physical way, but I’ve literally sat in front of this man sobbing and had him not notice anything was wrong. So.)

But hey, I thought, at least my mom got the basics right. We were fed , sheltered, and clothed. She never hit us. We had medical care and went to good schools. She protected us.

Well.

Another way in which my family is fucked up is that my sister was molested by our uncle (my mother’s brother) as a child. She has spent a literal decade trying to work up the courage to tell our “nothing bad ever happens” mother, with the anticipation that she’d probably either ignore or deny it. Relevant here is my mother still has a good relationship with this sibling (on the surface... more on that later). She keeps up with him online, she invites him to things. My sister missed our grandmother’s wake (father’s mother) because he lives in that area and our mom invited him. I had a contingency plan for if he showed up at my sister’s wedding, because my mom refused to uninvite him.

My sister finally told her yesterday.

She did not, in fact, ignore or deny it.

Instead, she told my sister, “I suspected the abuse but hoped I was wrong. Also, he molested me too, when I was a child.”

And there’s this contradiction again. Because I KNOW trauma fucks people up. I KNOW THIS. My trauma is different, but gods, I know how it stops your brain from working right.

And yet.

SHE KNEW her bother was a predator. SHE KNEW THIS. And she still invited him into our lives. She didn’t abuse my sister herself, but she sure as fuck created the circumstances that allowed it happen. She put us all in danger. Knowingly. Willingly.

And I’ve been trying to understand what on earth could make her do that, and I keep coming up empty. I mean, how could she do that to us?

The bar was set SO LOW for her, and she couldn’t even do this one basic mom thing of not exposing her children to a pedophile. She couldn’t do the one basic brave thing of asking my sister what had happened when she began to suspect.

I don’t understand.

I don’t understand, and I feel so betrayed, and so furious, and so guilty because I know how much all of this must have fucked her up, because I know that she may never have told anyone about it before. I’m trying to find empathy and compassion and I all I can find is hurt and rage, that she put us all in danger and my sister, who I love so much, got hurt. My sister, who I have been supporting through all of this in part because we both knew damn well that she couldn’t go to our mom for support.

And I can’t talk to my mom. It doesn’t feel fair, like I don’t deserve to feel any of this because I wasn’t in the direct line of fire from our uncle, because I’m just a bystander I don’t have a right to be upset. And I’ve rarely been this upset in my life. I could try talking to her, but it won’t do any good.

I was driving home from my covid vaccine today and had a moment where I was tempted to flip my car going around a sharp turn. This isn’t suicidal ideation (I’ve had that too, and I know the difference). This is more along the lines of kid-Pigeon wishing she had cancer; I don’t know how to ask my mother to please be there for me, goddammit, please help me understand but feel like she would show up for me if I were physically hurt. This was the first time in five or six years I’ve had that kind of impulse, so that was super fun.

I’m just... I never had a mom. I had a caretaker, like someone hired to look after me, and it was just a job she had to do. And that void is just eating and eating and eating away at me since her revelation. Because it’s not like you can just go out and get another. It’s not like making a friend or finding a partner. It’s just an injury I have to learn to live with because there’s no other option.

And right now I don’t know if I can do that. I feel like this might be the last straw, the one I just can’t get over and can’t therapy away and can’t stop from hurting.

I need to understand, but there’s no answer. I want to know what I ever did to not deserve a normal family. I want to know what I ever did to have to work this hard to just hit some facsimile of being a normal adult. There’s no answer to any of that.

I’m just really tired.

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acklesangel97 · 4 years

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Sad. Disappointed. Pissed off. Heartbroken. All the emotions. I just can’t believe they thought that was acceptable. I’ve got a few points to make.

* I just cannot get over the fact that not only they chose to kill Dean off but like THAT and THAT soon? Like, this man, this incredible man, has gone through SO much and suffered SO much and he’s just defeated god (didn’t even kill him, he spared him) so he can FINALLY live his life and be FREE and he barely gets to enjoy that before he meets his end at the hands of a fucking rusty nail sticking out of the wall?? NO! That’s fucked up! What even is that? He’s a hero! He should’ve died like a hero but not before he at least got to enjoy his life first. Or he could’ve retired cos god knows if anyone deserved to retire it was Dean Winchester. Just... a rusty nail? Really??

* And Dean’s death scene was so emotional, so heartfelt with some beautiful words and moments and I did cry a lot. But for me that scene, and even the scene at the end (and other scenes throughout the series involving the brothers) are ruined by w*ncesties. I feel like I can no longer appreciate Sam and Dean’s incredible bond and love for each other without thinking about them loving it for all the wrong reasons and making into something sick and twisted and thinking that they won and that their sick incest ship went canon. So they ruined that.

* WHY WASN’T CAS THERE??! It was established that he’s out of the empty, alive and well and helped Jack redesign heaven so why couldn’t he have appeared for one fucking minute?! I’m not even talking about destiel rn, Castiel was such an important and loved character on the show and saved the show more than once so why couldn’t he have been there? Greeted Dean in heaven? And after Bobby mention that Cas helped Jack, that was totally an opening for him to appear. Even if when Dean was driving he could’ve stopped when he found Cas, gave him a hug or something idk. Just so disrespectful to the character and to Misha.

* Now talking about destiel. I genuinely don’t think I would’ve been as disappointed in that finale if we didn’t get the “I love you” in 18. Cos before that, my hopes and expectations were LOW. I was expecting to be let down and to be sad. But then THAT happened and we were given hope and the show had a huge opportunity to make this finale iconic. Like the whole idea of Dean saving Cas from the Empty, raising Cas from perdition, coming full circle... that would’ve been incredible. What a story. But even just Cas meeting Dean in heaven would’ve sufficed. And they set it all up so perfectly for Dean to tell Cas he loves him too (I mean we all know he does anyway, we have eyes). Amazing character development. It would’ve been such a beautiful end to what can only be described as the greatest love story... I feel it was left so open-ended and incomplete cos Dean never got to say something back to Cas. And Cas was BARELY mentioned in the last 2 episodes. We were all annoyed at Jensen and Misha for not saying anything and saying 18 was Cas’ last scene and we didn’t believe them but they were just trying not to set us up to be disappointed. But alas, we are all clowns. Jensen even said he didn’t want to put Dean into a box and that he was open to all interpretations of that scene and how Dean felt, trying to give us some validation. So thanks for that boys, honestly. We should’ve listened.

* Why didn’t Sam end up with Eileen? Who tf was that random woman he married and had a kid with? I mean they wouldn’t even let the straight couple we all shipped be together?

* Maybe not quite as important but what was with that grey wig they gave Jared? And couldn’t they have tried to make his face look older?

* Also why did they bring back that random vampire from season 1 for like 30 seconds before killing her? Pointless.

* No one was at Dean’s funeral? Just Sam and Miracle? I know, Covid and all that but they surely could’ve gotten like Jody and Donna and a couple of the girls or other hunters they knew and stood socially distanced or something. Cos for all Dean’s died many times he’s never had a hunters funeral. Where’s the respect?

So yeah, not very pleased. At all. But this is what we’re stuck with. Can’t change it. Will I eventually make peace with it? Idk. I mean I have always said I would only be content if they were both dead in the end cos I couldn’t go on with my life wondering what one or both of them were up to or if they were ok. So it gave me closure in that sense. But they sort of dismissed the whole “family don’t end with blood” thing and the chosen family they made over the years and brought it back to just the brothers. And I get that Sam and Dean are at the heart of the show but the show became so much more than just them throughout the years. I think the beginning and the end were ok, I just didn’t like most of everything in the middle.

But SPN has introduced me to some wonderful people and an amazing fandom who are really like a crazy, dysfunctional family and I’ll always love it for that. It’s shaped so much of my life and who I am and it’s brought me a lot of joy and comfort over the years. I won’t abandon it or the fandom. And at the end of the day, there’s always fanfiction.

#my thoughts #spn #dean winchester #supernatural #jensen ackles #castiel #sam winchester #misha collins #destiel #jared padalecki #spn spoilers #spn 15x20 #spnfamily #spn finale

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eloarei · 3 years

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A little rambling: on grief; and grieving a dog, a cat, an unborn child, and pieces of me that got hurt along the way.

2300 words under the cut.

It’s a very gloomy day today. I don’t usually mind; I like rain. But on a bad day, or a bad week, it only seems to insulate me in my own dark thoughts. That’s what today seems to be. I’ll work on fixing it later-- getting some exercise, sunlight if the clouds clear, making some tea. Should’ve done that already, but I forgot. Ate half a banana, at least.

As I’ve complained about a few times lately, I’ve just not been doing especially well. When and why did it all start? It’s hard to say, but this ‘unwellness’ spell seems most potent starting April 11th (my anniversary, unfortunately, which is why I can remember it), when I came down with a gruesome stomach bug. Really haven’t been feeling right since. I’m really bad about being sick; it scares me and I handle it badly. I assume that’s part of what has messed me up.

But grief is the other part, I think. Grief, and my being scared and worried that what caused it could strike again at any minute. Look, I’m... 32 now, and I’m sure that most people by this age have experienced profound loss. I’m probably not unusual, and I’m certainly not alone, but I think all the loss I’ve experienced is just piling up on me now, like there wasn’t enough time to process the new fresh ones before newer fresher ones came on, and so now even the old tough scars are aching.

When I was a teenager, my parents died. They were old, and it was health problems. It was not a surprise, but that didn’t make it easier to deal with in freshman year of high school. (What made it easier to deal with? Rabidly cleaning out the fridge and watching Lord of the Rings tapes the neighbors lent me. That’s all I did for three days after my mom died.) It’s been a long time-- more than half my life ago-- and I do feel like I’m ‘over it’, but sometimes it just wells up, tears from nowhere. Maybe that’s just how grief is.

A certainly had a good decade of my 20′s. I got married at 19, and had a pretty uneventful set of years. That felt normal to me. I do think, though, that the loss of my parents haunted me in that time, quietly. It influenced everything I did; it probably still does, if only because it changed the person I have become. But other than that, things were good, I think. My dog Roxy died two years ago, when I was 30, not long after I got back from seeing my siblings for the first time in ages. She was violently ill, and died right in front of us as we were getting ready to take her to the vet. I think I’ve written about it. In fact, the next day I wrote a depressing fanfic piece, certainly as a coping mechanism. (It made people cry, so, mission accomplished, I guess.) I think that helped a lot. A few months later, my in-laws’ dog died too, while mom-in-law was on vacation, and that was rough as well. I wrote another sad fanfic about death. I really like both of these pieces, because they mean something, and they’re very raw. Furthermore, I’ll always have them, as tokens for Roxy, Ginger, and the little pieces of me they crushed when they died. I don’t know if the exchange is worth it, but it’s what I have.

My grief over Roxy was gentle, as time went on. It didn’t bother me. I think I’d processed it well. I’d written out my feelings. I held her body in numb arms as my husband dug her grave. It was okay.

In early 2020, basically on my 31st birthday (and right as Covid was happening), I found I was pregnant. Long story short, those were the densest two months of my life, where everything seemed to change so quickly. My thoughts and feelings could fill so very many pages; this is not the place I’ll leave them. The point of this particular story is that it didn’t work out. The baby ‘died’ not terribly unlike Roxy had-- violently ill, in front of me, with far too much blood. I passed out three times-- the real start of this current fearful nature, because I cannot overstate how very much I felt like I was going to die. I went to the ER; it was miserable, an ordeal I could say quite a lot about. I won’t, though. I have before, and I likely will again, elsewhere.

This... This grief... I think I still don’t know what to do with it. I don’t think I ever will. Months later, I started writing a fic to deal with my feelings, though it took 90k words and many months before I got to the part where I could really delve into my trauma. And it has helped, I’m sure. I’m really sure. And I care about this fic so much, because like the others it is raw and real and it’s something I’d never have if not for my experience. Again, it may not be a fair trade, but it’s what I have.

I don’t grieve for the baby. It didn’t make it far enough to even have a heartbeat. It doesn’t have a name, a gender. It doesn’t have a grave. We let the hospital take care of it. But I still grieve. I’m sad. Wrecked. I grieve what it could have been. I grieve the hope that was spent and lost on it, a precious resource that will take a long time to grow back, if ever. I grieve over not only my own disappointment, but my husband’s, and my in-laws. They’ve never pressured us to have kids, but they’re in their 60′s now, with no grandchildren. I think they feel... lacking, in a way. I understand. I feel the same (though different). I wanted to give them that. I wanted to have that.

I still....?

I can’t say. I don’t know what I want. The event complicated my already complex emotions. I’m still waiting for them to simplify. Maybe they will, or maybe they won’t.

I was alright for a while. Stressed enough because of Covid and family’s declining health. Then in early April 2021, just a year after the miscarriage, I got badly sick. Gross, but not what most people would call a real issue. But only a year after the miscarriage, when my body betrayed me and I was at its horrid mercy, this felt like too much. Again I felt like I was going to die. A week of near delirious fever and nausea; I’d have handled it badly enough in any other circumstance.

As expected, I got through it. A horrible week, but just a week (or so). And then my dog Tobi died, just days later.

This is it. This is the one I... I’m speechless about. The one I... maybe haven’t processed enough. I was just back from the edge of being badly, violently ill. I didn’t have the energy to write, physically or emotionally. And that just made it worse. I love writing. It’s my outlet (surprising, I’m sure). I wanted to write. I thought I ought to write. I needed to write. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t muster the words. I still... can’t.

Tobi was... my baby. Not literally, of course. I didn’t conflate him with my lost child or anything. Tobi was 14. I’d had him since I graduated high school and got an apartment. Adopting him was one of the first things my husband and I did as an established adult couple, before we were even married. He was there, at my wedding. The photographer took a cute picture of me holding him before the ceremony. He was 11 months old at the time. Still had all his brown spots before they turned tan, then later white. He was there; he was always there. He was my entire adult life. And now I’ve lost him, the pup I had longer than my marriage (though soon we will outlast him). He was the big brother to all my other pets. He practically raised all the cats, and they adored him. (Tobi was a chihuahua, so they might have thought he was just another cat.)

He was a sweet boy, who loved his mom and dad first and foremost. When he was little, he was scared of everyone else. Eventually he warmed up to strangers and friends, and in his old age he mostly liked to nap somewhere on his own. He was silly and playful; he always chased the cats when they wanted to be chased. It was a game they all loved.

The vet... well, we took him in when he started to cough badly. He’d had a cough for a few months, but it wasn’t constant and didn’t seem to be affecting his quality of life much. But that day it was bad, so we took him. (We can’t afford frequent vet visits, so this was clearly desperate.) The vet took him and put him on oxygen. We had to stay in the car because they weren’t open for human guests. Then she came and told us a scan had revealed cancer, marbled through his lungs. He was suffocating. In fact, he wouldn’t likely even make it home, not even the two mile drive. We had to put him down. My husband and I cried like babies. We’d never put an animal down before. Generally speaking, we don’t really ‘believe in it’, if that makes sense. But faced with this situation, we had no choice.

I didn’t see him again. I think that’s the worst part, though it would have been equally bad to see him, I think. And it was all so sudden. He was playing and chasing the cats the day before. Begging for treats of human food. Barking at the Roomba. And then I had to pay hundreds of dollars to say goodbye to him. It felt so unfair. I cried all day. My husband and I, we just went home and laid down and wept.

But I still haven’t written about it, not in the way that I wrote about the others. For all that I wrote here, it doesn’t begin to encompass my deeper feelings on what it means that he is gone, and how I felt to have to make that decision. I have ideas. I think I know what I would write, if I could, but writing... still mostly eludes me. I may try. I probably should.

I take a deep breath. I know I should sum this up and take care of myself, but there’s yet a little more to say.

I think Tobi’s death is a large part of what affects me still, but several weeks ago I had what I could only call a panic attack. In the middle of the night I awoke, my heart beating rapidly, a horrible feeling of dread like certainty that all I could possibly do was die. It took over two days for me to feel mostly normal again, and then I still felt vaguely nauseous for two weeks. Then, just a few days ago, it happened again, but this time before bed. I could feel it rising in me, this indescribable sickness. It took several days ago before I felt normal. And this is where I am now.

Sadly, a little while after the first panic attack, my husband and I failed to save a malnourished feral kitten. It was not a surprise, but yet one more reminder of the fragility of life, and how little I can do to keep death away from those I care about. This poor thing, it was so desperate to live, but nothing we could do could save it. I could have poured all my time into trying, could have scrounged up money to take it to the vet (when I should take my own cats, who all have colds), but I know better. I know... so much of the time, there’s nothing you can do. And now I’m trying to help what might be its siblings, a few cute feral kittens nearby. My favorite seems... a little lethargic, and not very interested in eating the wet food and meat scraps I sometimes bring by. I don’t think there’s anything I can do, if it ends up being sick, if it ends up being malnourished. I can’t bring it inside when it could infect my own cats. I have to care for them first.

But knowing that it could die... it bothers me.

And knowing that I could die. I could die. I’m too aware of that, on top of everything else. I hate doctors, so I never go. (Also I’m poor.) This toothache? Could be a terrible abscess. My brother went to the ER for sepsis from an abscess tooth recently! That’s probably what caused the panic, to be honest. But then... why have I felt so week? Is there a problem with my blood? Am I sicker than I know? Do I have breast cancer? My grandma did, and I know I should get it checked out, but it’s just ONE MORE THING. It’s always like that.

And that’s... how I feel right now. Covered in ‘one more thing’s on rainy days and night-work schedules. Trying to take care of myself but not always knowing what that means. Lacking the inspiration to do the things I know I enjoy, because worry and apathy holds me back from everything.

I’m okay. Really. No day of mine is ever entirely without merit, and I have plans to do most of the things that should keep me healthy. But the day is short when my needs and long, and the day is long when I’m paralyzed by apathy.

So. I’ll just take it a moment at a time. And when I can, I’ll try to keep writing.

#elo talks #long post #personal but ok to interact

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