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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

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Harry Potter Battle Wounds Pt 1 - L. Hemmings

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Female reader

Being the little sister of the infamous “C-Dizzle” Calum Hood meant that it was rare you could Skype him throughout his time at Uni.

You were one year younger than him, and while you were in year 12 he went off to University with his friends, choosing to move closer to campus.

It’s safe to say, you missed him like crazy. You and Cal had been thick as thieves for so many years, and are probably the single reason your mother’s hair started to turn grey. Or, at least, that’s what Joy would tell you both.

You and Cal had organized to skype on a Sunday afternoon, giving him enough time during the week to organize work for his classes, and Sunday morning to recover from a hang over he generally had.

From his Facebook tags alone, you had seem far too much of your older brother in stupid situations due to mass amounts of alcohol. He really was enjoying the University life and you were happy for him, you just wished he would dedicate some of his time to coming home to see his family. Hence why you took it upon himself to schedule specific blocks of time where he would Skype you. You even went as far to ensure Ashton, the only one of Calum’s friends you have met, knew of the time and made sure Calum dedicated that time to his family.

It worked perfectly and you never thought you’d admit it, but the Skype calls were even more fun when Cal’s friends got involved.

You heard he lived with three of his friends, one of those being Ashton and another his friend Michael who you met on a Skype call one night, but you had never seen the infamous Luke who was either asleep, at class or out who knows where.

The boys all have different accounts on where Luke was when you asked one time why you hadn’t seen the man.

Michael calmly replied “he’s at the titty bar. He strips for cash.”

He received a smack upside the head from Ashton for the comment, and you remember the sight of Michaels (then) bright green hair flying up and a yelp leaving the boys’ lips making you laugh until your stomach hurt.

“That is child abuse, Ashton!” He screeched as he ran off camera, “and no fair! Your hands are bigger than my dick!”

Ashton simply rolled his eyes, “It wouldn’t be child abuse if you didn’t act like a child!” He shouted before looking at Calum, “he’s at work, isn’t he?”

You saw your brother change his attention from the PlayStation game he was fixated on through the screen, and he simply shrugged.

“He may be at one of those parties he never invites us to, who knows.”

And so, for a whole year, you had never seen or spoken to Luke. You didn’t even know what he looked like, apart from the knowledge that he was “the lankiest penguin in the world” according to Mikey.

You had originally planned to go to a uni closer to home, in order to stay a bit closer to family and to your girlfriend. You had your heart set on the music production course that Calum’s Uni was running, but ultimately your girlfriend convinced you to also apply to a closer University.

You simply didn’t tell anybody you applied for Calum’s one, and just applied to see if you would have gotten in.

That changed when you went over to your girlfriends house and found her in bed with your best friend, Andrew.

You thought it best to follow your own path, not the one she wanted you to forge so she could continue taking advantage of your gifts and attention while also getting her rocks off with your best friend behind your back.

On the advice of your sister, you withdrew your application to the closer University and worked your butt off to get results that were good enough for the University course you wanted.

And just as Mali promised, it paid off and you were moving your stuff into Calum’s apartment not long after graduation, as Michael was moving in with his girlfriend, Crystal, who proved to be the nicest person you had ever met.

You lived there for a whole week without running into Luke at all.

You were beginning to think he didn’t exist at all. Plates of pancakes left on the bench, or sticky notes left around the house to remind one of you to “pick up more toilet paper” was evidence enough of another person in the house.

The idea that you also retreated to your room every night at around 8 also guaranteed you were dead to the outside world until you woke the next morning.

Until one night, when Ash, Cal and yourself were binge watching the Harry Potter series, given the fact that Ashton had never seen any.

“You have got to be kidding me?!” You screeched from your bedroom after overhearing their conversation through your open door.

“What happened? Drop your contact in your bra again?” Calum asked, a smirk on his face as he focused on the game playing on the television.

You stomped to the lounge room to flick him in the ear, before directing your attention to the eldest boy, “You have never watched Harry Potter?”

“Um, no? Should I have?”

“Yes, of course you should have, Ashton! You have big Hufflepuff energy and I bet you don’t even know what that means!” Your voice was an octave higher in disbelief and your frown deepened when the boy simply cocked his head at your words.

“Uhh-“

“That is it!” Your hands were raised in the air, “We are watching the first movie tonight and I will not take no for an answer!”

The first movie turned into the second, at which Calum bid a “Goodnight nerds,” as he stalked to his bedroom.

Ashton went to bed after the second one finished, leaving you alone in the lounge room, eyes glued to the screen as the second film turned to the third and Professor Lupin tried to teach Harry to produce a Patronus.

You were so engrossed that you didn’t even hear the door open. You could have been stabbed by an intruder and you wouldn’t have even noticed because you were too enamored by the movie you had seen over 20 times.

“Slytherin is the superior house, and anybody who disagrees is boring,” a deep voice says from behind you and you jump from your seat, pegging a bowl of popcorn at the face of whoever was in the apartment.

A thud echoed around the room followed closely by a groan and you rushed to flick the lights on, which revealed a tall blond man clutching his nose with popcorn on his hair and all around him.

“Luke?” You heard Cal ask wearily, walking out of his room rubbing his eyes.

“Luke?” You repeat, shock clearly ok your features.

“Yeah, hey Y/N! I live here too!” His brows were pulled together in pain, as anybody who takes a bowl to the face would be, but he also had an amused smile on his lips.

“I am so sorry! But you snuck up on me! You could have been a robber or murderer or who knows!” Was your only reply as you took in his features.

He was tall, a lot taller than you. His shoulders were wide and it was hard to tell if he was muscular through his oversized Nirvana shirt, but he had skinny jeans clad on his long legs, and converse on his feet.

There was a small scar on his bottom lip from where a lip ring used to be, on the same side you also had a lip ring.

His hair, that looked to be somewhat long was pulled back into a bun at the bottom of his head.

He was very attractive. Anybody could see that.

Your face immediately reddened at the internal revelation and you wanted nothing more than to clean the popcorn and run to your bedroom to hide.

Which is exactly what you did. You rushed around, dusting popcorn off of the tall boy and cleaning it from the floor before running to your bedroom and burrowing yourself under the covers in embarrassment.

The next morning, the house was practically empty. Ashton and Calum had a class, and as it was your day off, you slept in for a little bit. You thought you were alone so you moved to the kitchen to make breakfast, only to come face to back with a large figure standing at the stove.

“Morning,” he said, his voice gravely from sleep.

“Oh, hi!” You squawked, jumping slightly at the presence of Luke.

He simply turned and handed you a plate of pancakes and returned to his work at the stove.

“So, smallest Hood, I figured since you pelted me with a bowl last night and we haven’t gotten to know each other since you got here, that you could treat me to a coffee later today?”

He turned and you could see a subtle smirk on his face. Your face blushed at the question and you gaped, still in place and holding your pancakes.

“That is,” he continued, “unless you’re a Gryffindor. I could never date one of those.”

“Date?” You managed, confusion still evident on your face.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you a couple times on a Skype call with Calum and the guys but I was nervous to join them Incase I made Calum’s beautiful sister think I’m the dorkiest person ever, but then after she pelted me with popcorn I figured ‘what worse can happen’?”

You simply laughed at the idea of the attractive man in front of you being dorky.

You moved to the counter, taking a seat and cutting into your plate of food, “how could you be dorky? And I never saw you on the Skype calls!”

“I think anybody who spends literally any free time they have at a library would be regarded as a dork,” he laughed, and your cheeks reddened at the sound, “and I saw you a few times when I had gotten home, but never gotten in view of the camera.”

Your mind wanders back to Michael asking somebody named Lucifer how the outside world was, but Calum had told you it was their Golden Retriever.

I guess that kind of fits with the golden curls hanging from Luke’s head.

Instead of proving further, you figured there was only one thing you wanted at the very moment.

“So what time for coffee?”

A smile broadened on Luke’s face and you mirrored it.

#luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings #5sos #calum hood #ashton irwin #michaelclifford #hood!reader #uni au

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morningfears · 5 years

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Friends

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: You and Calum have been friends for a little over a year and while he initially wanted to keep things platonic, you’re getting mixed signals. And following a day smoking together, the two of you end up making a move that could drastically alter your relationship. | Stoned sex with Calum for Kinkmas.

Word Count: 3.6k

For the first time in weeks, you feel at ease.

A cloud of smoke hangs over your head as you lie on Calum’s couch. He’s stretched out, head on your lap and legs hanging over the edge of the couch, and a sense of calm envelops you as the scent of cigarette smoke, marijuana, and something distinctly Calum washes over you. A song from a playlist Calum created specifically for these moments plays quietly in the background and lingers in the back of your mind as you stare at the swirling tendrils of smoke pouring from his lips. He’s got a lazy smile quirking his mouth, eyes half shut with one arm behind his head, fingers grazing your thigh, and the pipe in his free hand. He looks utterly content, relaxed and so comfortable, and it warms your heart to see him this way.

Though he’s enjoyed being back on the road, you know that being away from home has been stressful for him. He’s missed Duke, more than anything else, and he’s missed having a sense of normalcy. You know that he misses routine and the mundane sameness of daily life, even if it’s just for a few days.

You know that he’s missed the quiet and a bit of alone time. He’s also missed you but things have been good, comfortable and pressure free, so he doesn’t feel the need to explicitly state just how much he missed you while he was gone. Instead, he opts for inviting you over a little more than usual and hoping you won’t call him out on it

He’s fairly certain that you wouldn’t and that’s part of what makes your relationship with Calum so strong, so easy. The two of you understand one another in a way that no one else has ever been capable of. Neither of you have to work too hard to explain yourselves as the other just gets it.

When no one else understands, you know that Calum will.

When you’re feeling upset, as if your world is crashing around you, Calum is the person you call. He’ll sit with you in silence, not pressuring you to speak but reminding you that he’s there, or he’ll be your shoulder to cry on. And he knows that you’ll do the same for him, no matter what country he happens to be in. He’s taken to calling you first, even when he’s a thousand miles away, just to hear you talk about nothing and everything all at once as it calms his racing heart.

Over the last year, the two of you have become constants in one another’s lives. You calm one another down when the anxiety gets the better of you cheer one another on when life gets to be too much. However, it’s not just the bad. Calum has become the first person you call with good news. When you ace an assignment you were certain you failed, Calum knows about it before your mother. When the boys win an award or hit a milestone, Calum makes sure you know before anyone else. The two of you share the good just as frequently as the bad and it’s comforting to have someone like him in your life.

Your only issue with your relationship with Calum is that you’re not certain where the two of you stand anymore.

Things were very clear in the beginning. Initially, you understood that things were platonic and that was that, but you’re not quite certain anymore. However, you’ve resigned yourself to remaining in the dark as this is one subject Calum isn’t quite ready to broach. Even if you often find yourself confused as to what exactly he’s feeling.

Your relationship with Calum has changed significantly in the past year. Upon first meeting him at a party thrown by a mutual friend, you developed a small crush on him. He’s attractive, hilarious, intelligent, talented, compassionate; what more could you want from a potential partner? However, Calum made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in the romantic. He’d been scorned and love was the last thing he wanted in his life. And while you felt the initial sting of rejection, you understood and decided that friendship was better than nothing because Calum seemed to be exactly the kind of person you wanted in your life, romantic or platonic.

For a while, that’s all things were. The two of you maintained a relationship that was strictly platonic and it was nice. You spent a little time together, mostly in groups of mutual friends, and spoke pleasantly in passing. You didn’t go out of your way to be nice to one another but you also acknowledged the other’s presence whenever needed. However, a party at Ashton’s saw the two of you getting too drunk to safely leave and resulted in you both sleeping over. That night, after everyone had left, the two of you had a conversation about life and everything that entails in Ashton’s backyard. Since then, you and Calum have spent more and more time together, most of it alone.

Following that party, the two of you have gone out to dinner, gone to see movies, had movie night at your respective places (usually his place, however, as he has Duke and Duke is not fond of your couch), and have managed to build an incredibly active text thread. You watch conspiracy documentaries and baking shows while you argue over who gets to cuddle Duke (Calum usually wins that). And when you’re not attached at the hip, watching every Netflix special you can find, the two of you send one another pictures of dogs you happen across while out and about or memes that you come across while surfing the web. If Calum is traveling and stumbles upon something that reminds him of you, he’ll snap a picture (or buy it, if it’s small enough that you can’t reasonably yell at him for it) and send it your way.

For a while, that was it. You spent time together, enjoyed one another’s company, and remained close friends. However, following the increase in time spent together came the increased physical affection. Neither you nor Calum are the touchiest of your friends. In fact, most of your friends know that you don’t particularly like physical contact at all. With Calum, though, it’s different.

The touches started out small, a casual arm over your shoulders or hand on your thigh. The longer you’ve known one another, though, the bolder the touches have gotten. Calum has taken to holding your hand if you’re out in a crowd under the guise of keeping you close. You’ve taken to wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his shoulder when you’re home, watching movies and cuddling Duke, just because you feel like it. And some nights the two of you cuddle, curl up together and hold one another close during movies. Recently, however, things have changed even more.

Following another drunken night at Ashton’s, you woke up in Ashton’s guest bedroom with Calum’s arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck. In your hungover, sleep induced state, you’d pressed a kiss to his shoulder and he’d returned the gesture with a soft kiss to the column of your throat. Neither of you spoke of it, you both simply brushed it off, but it opened the floodgates. As you left to return home, Calum had given you a soft kiss and looked somewhat surprised with himself before he played it off and bid you a safe drive.

Now, weeks later, you’ve kissed a handful of times and you’re not sure where to go from there. You haven’t talked about it at all and it’s weighing heavily on your thoughts each time you see Calum. You want to broach the subject but you’re half certain he’ll run, hide from the potential romance, and cut you out of his life. And that’s the last thing you want.

“Stop thinking.”

Calum’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts and you blink back into focus before you glance down at him. “I’m not thinking,” you huff as you reach out for the pipe in his hand, “I’m just not high enough yet.”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Calum repeats as he watches you take a hit, a small smile on his lips, “the point of this is to not think. It must be serious, whatever it is. You’re usually floating by now.”

“I’m not that weak,” you huff as you return the pipe to him. “You can look at a bottle of alcohol and be tipsy,” you counter as you reach down to tangle your fingers in his curls and playfully tug.

Calum moans at the feeling of you tugging his hair and breathes a sigh as he shifts on your lap and continues tapping your thigh. “Quit pulling my hair,” he hums as he places the pipe on the coffee table and allows his eyes to close. “Do you want to talk about it or do you want to keep bothering me?”

“I’d prefer to bother you,” you hum as you tug at his hair once more.

Once again, Calum moans at the feeling and you feel a wave of heat wash over you. This is how things go. You get high, you get flirty, Duke interrupts, and you watch Bake Off. However, Duke is at the groomer’s and Calum is staring at you as if you’re the only thing that matters and you think that you should heed his warning before you confuse yourself even more.

“What time do you need to pick up Duke?” you question as you remove your hands from his hair and reach for your bottle of water in an effort to distract yourself.

“Four,” Calum hums as he glances at the clock on the wall across from you both, “but Luke is taking Petunia to get her nails clipped so he said he’d pick Duke up and bring him by on his way home. Why, you have somewhere to be?”

“Nope,” you laugh as he pokes your side, “just wondering when my favorite Hood will be back, is all.”

Calum feigns offense as he glances up at you. “See, I share my weed with you. I get you snacks. We watch movies and cuddle. And you still tell me Duke’s your favorite?”

“He absolutely is,” you nod, biting back a smile. “Mali’s second and then it’s Joy and then your dad and then maybe you.”

“You’re the worst,” Calum laughs as he sits up and tosses a packet of gummy worms at you. “Why’s Mali higher on the list than me? You’ve only hung out with her a few times. You see me nearly every day.”

“Yeah, that’s why I like her more,” you grin as you rip open the packet of gummy worms. “Besides, she’s so gorgeous. I have a little bit of a crush on her.”

“We look alike,” Calum grumbles as he reaches for the gummy worms and takes one from the pack. “If you think she’s hot, you have to think I’m hot, too.”

“Do I, though?” you question, laughing as Calum pouts at you. “You know I think you’re hot, Cal,” you placate with a grin. “I feel like that was one of the first things I said to you.”

“It was,” Calum reminds you with an easy grin, “you were trashed and told me I looked like a model while I was smoking.”

“I fully take that back, by the way. Your ego is too big for that shit.”

Calum rolls his eyes at you and leans over to grab another gummy worm from the bag sitting on your lap. “My ego’s not the only thing that’s big,” Calum teases with a grin. When you slap his shoulder, he laughs and shakes his head. “Come on,” he laughs as he reaches for your arm and tugs you into his side, “I’m kidding. You know that. But if you’re ever curious, you could Google it but I’d prefer you to ask me.”

“You’re the worst, Calum Hood,” you laugh as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Calum laughs at this but doesn’t retort. Instead, he wraps his arms around your shoulder and lets the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence. You feel your thoughts slowing and your stress melting as you relax into the couch and Calum’s embrace. Beside you, he grins at you and feels the overwhelming urge to lean over and press a soft kiss to your lips.

Calum knows that he’s been toeing the line of friendship and something more. He knows that he’s potentially leading you on as he still isn’t sure he’s looking for something more but he can’t help himself. It feels right with you. You feel comfortable, like home, and he’s tired of holding himself back. He wants to follow his instincts and his instincts are telling him to make you his.

He thinks it might be the weed relaxing him or the scent of your shampoo in his nose as he buries his face in your hair but whatever it is, it makes him abandon all logic as he lifts his head and brings his hand to cup your cheek. Your eyes remain closed as he turns your head to face him and he hesitates for only a moment before he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

Calum isn’t surprised when you shift in his embrace and sink into the kiss. He knows how you feel about him and he knows that he should stop before things get anymore heated but he can’t bring himself to do anything other than trace the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Calum’s hands linger on your cheeks, his fingers brushing your skin, as your hands return to his hair to tug at the strands. You know how much he likes it, he’s never made it much of a secret, so you keep your hands buried in his curls as he licks into your mouth. The kiss is lazy, soft and unhurried, as Calum’s hands drift from your cheeks to your waist. His fingers drift beneath the hem of your t-shirt and you shiver at the feeling of his palms, warm and slightly rough from years of playing the bass, against your bare skin. You know that you should stop him, should make an excuse to leave before this goes too far, but you don’t want to. You’re still not sure where you stand and you don’t think he’ll be more inclined to tell you should the two of you end up sleeping together but your thoughts are hazy and your lust is winning over any rationality.

You lose yourself into the kiss and feel your thoughts fade into nothingness as Calum gently nudges you to lie on your back. Your fingers remain tangled in his hair as one of his hands dips beneath the waistband of your shorts. He pulls away from the kiss just enough to breathe, “Is this okay?” against your lips. Calum is all you can feel as you breathe your consent against his lips.

“Yeah,” you mumble, your eyes still closed and your hands tugging at his hair, “more than okay.”

At your consent, Calum returns his lips to yours and slips his hands into your panties. He brushes your folds lazily, his fingers gentle and unhurried as he allows you to pull away and catch your breath. As he brushes your clit and feels you jolt in surprise beneath him, he attaches his lips to your neck and begins pressing kisses along the column of your throat.

No words are spoken as you move one hand from his hair and gently squeeze his hardening cock over his sweats. Calum moans against your skin and moves his fingers a little quicker but doesn’t change his lazy pace as he works to rile you up. It doesn’t take long as he slips a finger into your heat and hears you release a content sigh at the feeling.

Before Calum can go any farther, you gently nudge him away. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “Shirt off, please,” you mumble and Calum nods. As he tugs his own t-shirt off, you shift beneath him and follow suit.

As you drop your t-shirt to the ground, Calum tugs at the waistband of your shorts and laughs when you lift your hips. He pulls them and your panties down in one go as you work on your bra. “You’re so pretty usually,” he whispers against the column of your throat as his hands knead your breasts. “But, fuck, you’re even better naked.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Hood,” you whisper with a grin as you grip the waistband of his sweatpants.

Calum laughs at this and nudges his sweatpants and briefs down before he settles back on top of you. Calum returns his hand between your thighs and slips two fingers into your heat. As he begins working you open, you focus your attention on his neck. You press kisses to his heated skin as he rubs your clit with his thumb.

It’s soft and lazy and sweet, nothing like you’d imagined it would be, but you don’t mind as you feel yourself falling into the moment. You can feel Calum shifting above you, reaching for the stash of condoms he keeps, before he rips open the foil packet and pulls away to roll the latex onto his length. “You sure this is okay?” he asks as he settles between your thighs properly.

“Now you’re the one who’s thinking too much,” you hum as you wrap your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair. “Yeah, Cal, it’s okay. I want it.”

Calum nods and returns his lips to yours as he sinks into you. His pace is slow, lazy and soft, as he begins fucking into you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as he feels you tug at his hair. He feels good, sated and happy, and he doesn’t let the ideas of ‘what if’ and ‘what next’ enter his brain as he feels you clench around him.

Similarly, you tune out the thoughts of something more. You forget that you’re possibly making a mistake, you don’t dwell what could be. You focus on the now, on the what is, and allow yourself to fall over the edge as Calum circles your clit and nips at your neck.

As he feels you clench around him, Calum feels himself falling over the edge. You feel his hips stutter, his breathing shallow, and his hand clench your hip firmly as he spills into the condom and you want the moment to last forever as he remains still on top of you. He’s everywhere, warm and solid and entirely Calum. He presses a kiss to your lips, another lazy peck, before he pulls away and just like that, the moment is over.

Calum ties the condom and stands to toss it into the garbage. When he returns, you’re in his t-shirt and he doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight. An unfamiliar warmth blossoms in his chest and he wants to bury it deep, suppress it, as he knows nothing good can come of love. And when you look at him, soft and sweet and pretty, he doesn’t want to give you hope. So he tugs on his sweatpants and glances at the clock.

“I should pick up Duke,” he breathes as he glances at his phone. “I don’t want Luke to have to go out of his way.”

You blink at the sudden change in his attitude and nod slowly. “Uh, yeah,” you nod, “okay. Um, do you want me to come with you? We can go to the park or something.”

Calum is terrified at how much he wants this. He wants to be with you, to have you by his side, and to see you happy and in love. But he doesn’t think he can do that. He’s afraid of love, of you hurting him more than he already has been, and he doesn’t want to put his heart in your hands. So he shakes his head and does what he does best.

He runs.

“I’m just gonna bring him home,” he shrugs as he picks up your shirt and holds it out for you. “I need to get ready for the trip home, anyway. But maybe later.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t really believe him. Your brain is fuzzy and you’re confused and hurt at the brushing off he’s doing but you tug off his shirt and hand it back to him before you pull on your own clothes. “I guess I’ll see you around, then,” you breathe as you slip on your shoes and grab your bag. “Tell Duke I said hi.”

“I will,” Calum nods. “See you later.”

“See you, Cal,” you breathe.

And just like that, you’re gone. Calum watches as you leave his house, your shoulders slumped and hurt clear on your face, but he doesn’t try to stop you. He’s confused, hurting himself and you, but he thinks that this will be better in the long run. He thinks that you’ll be better and you’ll both avoid heartbreak.

But as he stares at the front door, feeling a heavy weight on his soul, he thinks maybe he’s made a mistake.

Author’s Note: I’m watching Drag Race and the fucking reading, oh my god.

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thestudyof5sos · 5 years

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When Uber Becomes Tinder (tinder!Ashton) - part 1

Summary: "I think it would be nice if I get to see you again tonight. Think I forgot something in your car ;)"-An Uber passenger. When Ember, a 30-something grad student and Uber driver, clocked in to drive the college crowd on a Thursday night in the middle of a blizzard, she didn’t foresee how the (seriously adorable and flirtatious but probably way too young for her) guy she picked up twice would change her life. (Aka the night Ashton confused Uber for Tinder.)

Author: 🐾 @larryologymajor Fandon/Pairing: 5SOS / Ashton x original characters Warnings/Tags: nothing yet Word count: (part 1 of ?)

A/N: This is a work in progress :) I have a few chapters done that I’ll be posting this week, but the updates will not be very frequent (sorry!)

When Uber Becomes Tinder.

Part 1: Thursday.

Ember squinted into the dark night, unsure that her Uber driver app directed her to the right pickup location near campus. She hesitantly slipped her SUV into park and flicked on the windshield wiper, watching a clump of ice slide methodically across the glass leaving an angry wet streak in its wake.

Minneapolis was in the middle of a 3-day snowstorm, and Ember was dead set on taking advantage of her new SUV's all wheel drive system to propel her through the icy slush. Ember blinked at the darkness and prayed to the imaginary rideshare gods that the ice would deter a lot of drivers in two-wheel drive cars from logging in tonight.

Ember was a graduate student with a full ride scholarship and part time pay. She more than a decade older and wiser than the traditional college-aged kids she saw daily on campus, but she didn't mind. Being around them made her feel young. Driving Uber also helped her feel connected to her community because she primarily drove the college-aged crowd. However, Uber was also an important supplement to her monthly stipend.

So tonight, in the middle of a Minnesota snowstorm, a lack of drivers would be a blessing in disguise, resulting in higher surge fares. Ember's bank account could definitely benefit from an extra income boost.

Impatient and irritated that her passenger wasn't waiting at the door for her, Ember glanced at the Uber app and noted that she still had more than two minutes left on her obligatory three minute waiting period. Although the countdown timer annoyed Ember, she was grateful that she could charge a passenger a no-show fee and be on her merry way if they didn't show up before the timer expired.

With the heat blasting in the car and her seat heater roasting her back, Ember was on fire. She threw open her door, unbuckled her seat belt and jumped out of the car. She grimaced when her left foot sloshed through an icy water puddle drenching over the top of her ankle height rain boot; she shrugged off her waist length down feather winter jacket and flipped the shiny black hood over the headrest of her seat to hang neatly before sliding skillfully back into the car, buckling her seat belt simultaneously; a maneuver she practiced daily after sitting in her car for a few hours. Ember swiftly adjusted the zipper on her favorite black band hoodie to reveal a hint of the pink wrap athletic shirt and black leggings she wore underneath. She was a firm believer in dressing comfortably and modestly while she drove.

The countdown timer on the Uber app blinked at Ember. With only a minute and a half remaining on the display, she was starting to doubt she was in the right spot; quickly tapped the button to shoot a confirmation text to her passenger, Ash: Hey! This is Ember with Uber. Uber directed me to your alley, is the street or the alley better? I can circle around to the front if I need to.

Killing time, it only took a few seconds for Ember to fiddle with the heat, restart her favorite Uber playlist, and flip down the mirror to check her appearance. She tucked a few strands of her chestnut hair back into the carefully styled fishtail braid that hung over her left shoulder and recolored her lips mauve with her favorite matte liquid lip paint.

She hummed quietly along to Niall Horan as he strummed his guitar through her speakers and squeezed her eyes shut for a quick moment, willing herself not to cry under the inky winter sky. Niall's song Flicker spoke to her heart in ways she couldn't describe and she cried nearly every time she heard it.

The instant her phone dinged, signaling a reply, she looked up: Either is fine! I'll be out in the alley in a sec!

Ember quickly tapped out another reply: Okay, I'm waiting in the alley in the green SUV with my flashers on.

Ember sighed; her Uber app was directing her to cancel the ride if her passenger didn't show. Like a stealth ninja, a college-aged boy yanked open the rear driver-side door and tumbled in. Laughter fell off his lips and he smiled, telling Ember, "Ugh. I swear the rest of the boys were right behind me!"

She figured it would be her luck that there were more than four passengers and she would have to cancel the ride because she didn't have enough seat belts in the car for them.

The door closed and the dim dome light above shone down on the boy revealing tufts of bubblegum colored hair peeking out from beneath a black slouchy beanie. While they waited, Ember eyed him suspiciously. "Are you a student around here?" she asked. There was a decent chance he'd say yes and it was a topic Ember could converse in without much effort.

Before he could reply, three more figures appeared from the murky shadows and Ember felt a wave of relief wash over her, grateful that she wouldn't have to cancel this ride.

The rear passenger door opened once again and Ember's ears filled with the playful bantering of several male voices. "Michael, move over!"

"Shut up, Luke, I'm already buckled in. You have long legs. Use them to walk around to another door!"

Ember was processing tidbits of information - the guy sitting behind her was a Michael. If he didn't order the ride, who did?

The boy, Luke, Ember thought, closed the door and quickly dashed around the front of the car. His long strides told Ember he was tall and Ember's eyes tracked his movement. Although it was dark, he paused mid-stride to look straight at Ember through the windshield, his blue eyes making eye contact with her. When he continued, Ember watched his curly hair bounced against his heather gray beanie as he lunged for the front door handle and piled in before anyone could stop him. He hadn't ordered the ride either.

Finally, the remaining door wrenched open. "Calum, I really hate you right now," a third boy spouted cheekily as he was shoved into the middle spot in the back seat. Despite the hurtful words, he had a smile on his face. He pushed his curly hair away from his eyes before extending an arm around the boy to his left, "Mikey, make some room!"

Ember watched the fourth boy, Calum, she thought, clamber in to occupy the remaining seat on the passenger side. Ember blinked. He was stunning in his black leather jacket. All of these boys were good looking, and for once, they didn't reek of stale cigarettes or liters of vodka Red Bull.

She felt the SUV shake as all four boys tried to situate themselves. When all the doors of the SUV closed, Ember clicked the button to start their trip and reveal their destination. Smiling warmly, she greeted the group. "Hey, I'm Ember. I need all of you to fasten your seat belts before we can get going. Which one of you is Ash?"

The boy in the middle spot of the backseat smiled widely, showing off impressively deep dimples and sparkling eyes, "I'm Ashton."

Ember studied him in the review mirror for a split second. His smile was friendly and she felt at ease with this group, unlike the creepy feeling she often got when she picked up groups of drunken college boys. She blinked and looked away from the mirror. He was seriously cute, probably a lot younger than her, and Ember felt a little intimidated by his his gaze.

When she heard the final seat belt click shut she turned around in her seat to face Ashton, "Where are we headed tonight?"

Ashton rattled off an address that matched the one on her display so she put the car in drive and made her way out of the alley. The five of them made insignificant small talk on the twenty minute ride to their destination; she and Ashton laughed flirtatiously, making eye contact a few times in the rear view mirror. The rest of the boys chimed in too, asking Ember rapid fire questions about driving Uber and school, then they chatted about local music venues and the rapidly expanding brewery scene in Minnesota. Detecting a slight Australian lilt to the melodic cadence of their voices, Ember nudged the heat up in the car just a bit, fully aware that these boys were not native to the Midwest and likely unaccustomed to blustery Minnesota winters.

Before they knew it Ember pulled into the parking lot of their destination and tapped the button to finish their ride and gave Ashton a 5-star rating. She already had another ride lined up so she hurried them out of the car with a bright smile and her standard parting, "It was nice meeting you all, have a good night!"

By the time Ember finished another five rides, she was desperately ready for a bathroom break, snack, and a refill of her giant Diet Coke for another caffeine boost. It was only 9:30pm and despite being Thursday night, she knew the college bar scene was only now coming alive. Ember wanted to drive into early hours of the morning, hoping to get another dozen rides before the end of the night so she could pay off most of her rent. After topping off her gas tank and taking care of business, Ember hopped back into her car and moved to a parking spot; there she logged back into Uber and waited for a pickup ping.

Ember really liked her Uber job. She liked to provide warm and safe rides to people during these terrible snowstorms. Her favorite demographic to drive was the college-aged, 20-somethings at bar close, especially on Thursday nights, and even more so on cold, snowy nights. She knew that most of her passengers were appreciative of her outgoing personality and personal driving mantra, "slow and steady," during icy conditions because it showed in the influx of tips and positive ratings.

Still waiting for a ride request to ping in, Ember scrolled through the tabs in her Uber app, quickly glancing at her earnings and passenger ratings. She had recently hit 1,000 rides and she was really proud of her 4.96 rating.

Tonight Ember was impressed by the unusually high number of notes left in her feedback tab. She stopped scrolling as a wide grin spread across her face. It didn't take much guesswork for Ember to know which passenger left this note: Thanks for getting me and my mates home safe. Sorry if we were too rambunctious for you. I'll be sorry if I don't see you again. Xx

Ember was lost in thought wondering what prompted the cute and flirtatious Australian boy to leave such a note. He was easily 24, but that still made him at least a decade younger than her. Ember knew she wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, but she wasn't ugly either. She considered her best publicly viewable assets to be her friendly smile, one dimple, and bright green eyes. On the inside, Ember was really self conscious about being overweight, especially when her large chest was always front and center. She didn't flaunt her breasts, like so many women her age would if they had them; however, she couldn't exactly hide them either.

The Uber app pinged, startling Ember back to reality. She reconnected her phone to the pop socket mount on her dash, clicked the button to accept the ride request and took a long sip of Diet Coke before backing out of her parking spot and putting the car into motion.

******

Two hours flew by and Ember didn't know where the time went. She had a continuous stream of back-to-back pickups, mostly college students heading out to grab dinner and drinks. Because the roads were icy and the snow was still coming down like an army of sleet balls, driving required serious concentration and Ember kept her eyes on the road and only glanced at her phone to tap the accept button when a new ping came in. Focused on the road and following the audible driving cues from Uber's navigation, she generally didn't pay attention to rider names or pickup locations provided on the screen until she arrived.

It was nearly midnight and Ember was on her way to another pickup. She slowed down, approaching a red light, when she realized that she'd already driven through this neighborhood earlier that night. She pulled into the parking lot of the small, 6 story, apartment complex where she ended her first ride of the night. It was the same spot where she dropped off the four cute Australian boys. And this was the same spot where she was once again waiting for Ash.

The Uber app started its 3-minute countdown and Ember busied herself checking the floors in the backseat looking for any forgotten items. A minute went by and there was still no sign of her passenger. Ready for another bathroom break, Ember was anxious to get this ride started and finished so she could freshen up before the madness of bar close began. She dialed the volume down on her playlist and hit the call button to connect with Ash through Uber's phone relay system, masking her identity and personal phone number.

The phone rang twice through her Bluetooth system sounding out through her speakers. "Hello?"

Ember heard a faint voice, barely audible over pounding bass and loud laughter in the background. "Hi, this is Ember with Uber again. Am I picking you up at the same door where I dropped you off at earlier?"

"Ugh, yeah. Hold on, I'll be right there!" shouted the voice on the other end.

Ember heard a click and the call dropped. She looked at the countdown timer. 45 seconds later the front passenger door opened and Ashton climbed in. Alone. Ember's heart stuttered for a second when he looked at her and grinned, his hazel eyes artfully studying her face. She didn't know what to say, so she said, "Welcome back. Where are we headed? Where's the gang?"

Still grinning, Ashton picked up pieces of their conversation from earlier like they hadn't skipped a beat. "The boys are staying in, but I'm going to check out that new brewery you suggested."

While Ember drove, they bantered flirtatiously and Ashton tried his hardest to convince her to quit driving for the night and come in to grab a beer. She was really flattered that someone so young and attractive would be interested in her company.

As she rolled up to the door, Ashton made puppy dog eyes at her. "Are you sure you can't come in for one beer? It's on me!"

Having a beer meant forgoing driving Uber for the rest of the night. Ember smiled, really tempted to join him, but she knew she would miss peak surge hours at bar close and lose out on making another good chunk of money if she quit driving now. "You're sweet," she started. "But I have to work tonight. Maybe our paths will cross again and I can take you up on that beer."

Ashton tossed her a wink and sheepish grin before he climbed out of the car. Ember closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the masculine blend of balsam, sandalwood and cypress that he left behind. Her scalp tingled. The scent reminded her of wet earth on a crisp fall day. Once he disappeared into the brewery, Ember pulled away from the curb and hit the accept button to take another ride.

*****

At 3:15 am, Ember called it a night and headed home. Coincidentally, she dropped someone off about a mile from her apartment and knew it was a sign she should go to bed before her eyes became any more fatigued.

In her apartment, Ember stood in the bathroom, studying herself in the mirror. She had already taken off the little bit of makeup she wore, brushed her teeth, let loose her braid and put her crimped hair up in a bun on top of her head. She was reaching for her pink silk pajama set when her phone rang. She rushed into her bedroom to pick up, but she didn't recognize the number and hesitated. It dawned on her that she forgot to check the floor in her car for lost items before she ran inside. She instantly jabbed at the accept button to take the call, wondering if this was a rider calling because they lost something crucial in her car, like a wallet.

"Hello," she answered sleepily.

"Are you still out driving?" questioned a male's voice on the other end. Ember didn't recognize it.

"No," she replied, "I'm done for the night and crawling into bed. Who is this?"

"Oh. I need a ride," he replied.

"I'm sorry, I'm logged out." She yawned. "But you can put in a request through the app and you'll get whatever driver is closest to you," directed Ember. "Goodnight."

"Okay, bye," the call ended.

Ember didn't think once about the phone call, who was calling, or how they got her number. She laid her phone down on the night table then walked sleepily back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.

Her phone rang again while she took out her contacts and gulped a small glass of water. Twice.

Ember tugged down the hem of her pink silk pajama cami. Her feet pattered across the wood floor of the dining room as she returned to her bedroom. She scratched her kitten under the chin before crawling under her down duvet. Tomorrow was her day off and she intended to sleep in. She picked up her phone from the night table to switch on Do Not Disturb mode and verify that her alarm wasn't set for an ungodly early time. That's when she saw the new text notification from Uber:

Oops! A passenger left something in car. Here's what they said:

I think it would be nice if I get to see you again tonight. Think I left something in your car ;) Text me 555-555-5555. Ash.

Call them directly at 555-555-5555. After you meet, you can request a return fee from the 'get help' menu in your driver ride history.

It was in that moment that Ember realized the mystery caller was Ashton and his intent was likely a hookup. Ember's heart stuttered. She was beyond confused and really wanted to question his motives, but she took a deep breath and her eyelashes fluttered slightly before drifting off to sleep.

READ PART 2.

... Kudos if you made it this far, thanks for reading! If you were Ember, what would you have done? Let me know!

Tags: @mycollectionofnuts, @kaxseychill, @sunnysidesblog Want to be tagged? Let me know!

#5sos #ashton fic #5sos fic #tinder!ashton #larryologyfic #larryologymajor

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years

Text

The ‘Grief Pandemic’ Will Torment Americans for Years

Cassandra Rollins’ daughter was still conscious when the ambulance took her away.

This story also ran on USA Today. It can be republished for free.

Shalondra Rollins, 38, was struggling to breathe as covid overwhelmed her lungs. But before the doors closed, she asked for her cellphone, so she could call her family from the hospital.

It was April 7, 2020 — the last time Rollins would see her daughter or hear her voice.

The hospital rang an hour later to say she was gone. A chaplain later told Rollins that Shalondra had died on a gurney in the hallway. Rollins was left to break the news to Shalondra’s children, ages 13 and 15.

More than a year later, Rollins said, the grief is unrelenting.

Rollins has suffered panic attacks and depression that make it hard to get out of bed. She often startles when the phone rings, fearing that someone else is hurt or dead. If her other daughters don’t pick up when she calls, Rollins phones their neighbors to check on them.

“You would think that as time passes it would get better,” said Rollins, 57, of Jackson, Mississippi. “Sometimes, it is even harder. … This wound right here, time don’t heal it.”

With nearly 600,000 in the U.S. lost to covid-19 — now a leading cause of death — researchers estimate that more than 5 million Americans are in mourning, including more than 43,000 children who have lost a parent.

The pandemic — and the political battles and economic devastation that have accompanied it — have inflicted unique forms of torment on mourners, making it harder to move ahead with their lives than with a typical loss, said sociologist Holly Prigerson, co-director of the Cornell Center for Research on End-of-Life Care.

The scale and complexity of pandemic-related grief have created a public health burden that could deplete Americans’ physical and mental health for years, leading to more depression, substance misuse, suicidal thinking, sleep disturbances, heart disease, cancer, high blood pressure and impaired immune function.

“Unequivocally, grief is a public health issue,” said Prigerson, who lost her mother to covid in January. “You could call it the grief pandemic.”

Like many other mourners, Rollins has struggled with feelings of guilt, regret and helplessness — for the loss of her daughter as well as Rollins’ only son, Tyler, who died by suicide seven months earlier.

“I was there to see my mom close her eyes and leave this world,” said Rollins, who was first interviewed by KHN a year ago in a story about covid’s disproportionate effects on communities of color. “The hardest part is that my kids died alone. If it weren’t for this covid, I could have been right there with her” in the ambulance and emergency room. “I could have held her hand.”

The pandemic has prevented many families from gathering and holding funerals, even after deaths caused by conditions other than covid. Prigerson’s research shows that families of patients who die in hospital intensive care units are seven times more likely to develop post-traumatic stress disorder than loved ones of people who die in home hospice.

The polarized political climate has even pitted some family members against one another, with some insisting that the pandemic is a hoax and that loved ones must have died from influenza, rather than covid. People in grief say they’re angry at relatives, neighbors and fellow Americans who failed to take the coronavirus seriously, or who still don’t appreciate how many people have suffered.

“People holler about not being able to have a birthday party,” Rollins said. “We couldn’t even have a funeral.”

Indeed, the optimism generated by vaccines and falling infection rates has blinded many Americans to the deep sorrow and depression of those around them. Some mourners say they will continue wearing their face masks — even in places where mandates have been removed — as a memorial to those lost.

“People say, ‘I can’t wait until life gets back to normal,’” said Heidi Diaz Goff, 30, of the Los Angeles area, who lost her 72-year-old father to covid. “My life will never be normal again.”

Many of those grieving say celebrating the end of the pandemic feels not just premature, but insulting to their loved ones’ memories.

“Grief is invisible in many ways,” said Tashel Bordere, a University of Missouri assistant professor of human development and family science who studies bereavement, particularly in the Black community. “When a loss is invisible and people can’t see it, they may not say ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ because they don’t know it’s occurred.”

“You would think that as time passes it would get better. Sometimes, it is even harder. … This wound right here, time don’t heal it.”

Cassandra Rollins, of Jackson, Mississippi

Communities of color, which have experienced disproportionately higher rates of death and job loss from covid, are now carrying a heavier burden.

Black children are more likely than white children to lose a parent to covid. Even before the pandemic, the combination of higher infant and maternal mortality rates, a greater incidence of chronic disease and shorter life expectancies made Black people more likely than others to be grieving a close family member at any point in their lives.

Rollins said everyone she knows has lost someone to covid.

“You wake up every morning, and it’s another day they’re not here,” Rollins said. “You go to bed at night, and it’s the same thing.”

A Lifetime of Loss

Rollins has been battered by hardships and loss since childhood.

She was the youngest of 11 children raised in the segregated South. Rollins was 5 years old when her older sister Cora, whom she called “Coral,” was stabbed to death at a nightclub, according to news reports. Although Cora’s husband was charged with murder, he was set free after a mistrial.

Rollins gave birth to Shalondra at age 17, and the two were especially close. “We grew up together,” Rollins said.

Just a few months after Shalondra was born, Rollins’ older sister Christine was fatally shot during an argument with another woman. Rollins and her mother helped raise two of the children Christine left behind.

Heartbreak is all too common in the Black community, Bordere said. The accumulated trauma — from violence to chronic illness and racial discrimination — can have a weathering effect, making it harder for people to recover.

“It’s hard to recover from any one experience, because every day there is another loss,” Bordere said. “Grief impacts our ability to think. It impacts our energy levels. Grief doesn’t just show up in tears. It shows up in fatigue, in working less.”

Rollins hoped her children would overcome the obstacles of growing up Black in Mississippi. Shalondra earned an associate’s degree in early childhood education and loved her job as an assistant teacher to kids with special needs. Shalondra, who had been a second mother to her younger siblings, also adopted a cousin’s stepdaughter after the child’s mother died, raising the girl alongside her two children.

Rollins’ son, Tyler, enlisted in the Army after high school, hoping to follow in the footsteps of other men in the family who had military careers.

Yet the hardest losses of Rollins’ life were still to come. In 2019, Tyler killed himself at age 20, leaving behind a wife and unborn child.

“When you see two Army men walking up to your door,” Rollins said, “that’s unexplainable.”

Tyler’s daughter was born the day Shalondra died.

“They called to tell me the baby was born, and I had to tell them about Shalondra,” Rollins said. “I don’t know how to celebrate.”

Shalondra’s death from covid changed her daughters’ lives in multiple ways.

The girls lost their mother, but also the routines that might help mourners adjust to a catastrophic loss. The girls moved in with their grandmother, who lives in their school district. But they have not set foot in a classroom for more than a year, spending their days in virtual school, rather than with friends.

Shalondra’s death eroded their financial security as well, by taking away her income. Rollins, who worked as a substitute teacher before the pandemic, hasn’t had a job since local schools shut down. She owns her own home and receives unemployment insurance, she said, but money is tight.

Makalin Odie, 14, said her mother, as a teacher, would have made online learning easier. “It would be very different with my mom here.”

The girls especially miss their mom on holidays.

“My mom always loved birthdays,” said Alana Odie, 16. “I know that if my mom were here my 16th birthday would have been really special.”

Asked what she loved most about her mother, Alana replied, “I miss everything about her.”

Grief Complicated by Illness

The trauma also has taken a toll on Alana and Makalin’s health. Both teens have begun taking medications for high blood pressure. Alana has been on diabetes medication since before her mom died.

Mental and physical health problems are common after a major loss. “The mental health consequences of the pandemic are real,” Prigerson said. “There are going to be all sorts of ripple effects.”

The stress of losing a loved one to covid increases the risk for prolonged grief disorder, also known as complicated grief, which can lead to serious illness, increase the risk of domestic violence and steer marriages and relationships to fall apart, said Ashton Verdery, an associate professor of sociology and demography at Penn State.

People who lose a spouse have a roughly 30% higher risk of death over the following year, a phenomenon known as the “the widowhood effect.” Similar risks are seen in people who lose a child or sibling, Verdery said.

Grief can lead to “broken-heart syndrome,” a temporary condition in which the heart’s main pumping chamber changes shape, affecting its ability to pump blood effectively, Verdery said.

From final farewells to funerals, the pandemic has robbed mourners of nearly everything that helps people cope with catastrophic loss, while piling on additional insults, said the Rev. Alicia Parker, minister of comfort at New Covenant Church of Philadelphia.

“It may be harder for them for many years to come,” Parker said. “We don’t know the fallout yet, because we are still in the middle of it.”

Rollins said she would have liked to arrange a big funeral for Shalondra. Because of restrictions on social gatherings, the family held a small graveside service instead.

Funerals are important cultural traditions, allowing loved ones to give and receive support for a shared loss, Parker said.

“When someone dies, people bring food for you, they talk about your loved one, the pastor may come to the house,” Parker said. “People come from out of town. What happens when people can’t come to your home and people can’t support you? Calling on the phone is not the same.”

While many people are afraid to acknowledge depression, because of the stigma of mental illness, mourners know they can cry and wail at a funeral without being judged, Parker said.

“What happens in the African American house stays in the house,” Parker said. “There’s a lot of things we don’t talk about or share about.”

Funerals play an important psychological role in helping mourners process their loss, Bordere said. The ritual helps mourners move from denying that a loved one is gone to accepting “a new normal in which they will continue their life in the physical absence of the cared-about person.” In many cases, death from covid comes suddenly, depriving people of a chance to mentally prepare for loss. While some families were able to talk to loved ones through FaceTime or similar technologies, many others were unable to say goodbye.

Funerals and burial rites are especially important in the Black community and others that have been marginalized, Bordere said.

“You spare no expense at a Black funeral,” Bordere said. “The broader culture may have devalued this person, but the funeral validates this person’s worth in a society that constantly tries to dehumanize them.”

In the early days of the pandemic, funeral directors afraid of spreading the coronavirus did not allow families to provide clothing for their loved ones’ burials, Parker said. So beloved parents and grandparents were buried in whatever they died in, such as undershirts or hospital gowns.

“They bag them and double-bag them and put them in the ground,” Parker said. “It is an indignity.”

Coping With Loss

Every day, something reminds Rollins of her losses.

April brought the first anniversary of Shalondra’s death. May brought Teacher Appreciation Week.

Yet Rollins said the memory of her children keeps her going.

When she begins to cry and thinks she will never stop, one thought pulls her from the darkness: “I know they would want me to be happy. I try to live on that.”

KHN (Kaiser Health News) is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues. Together with Policy Analysis and Polling, KHN is one of the three major operating programs at KFF (Kaiser Family Foundation). KFF is an endowed nonprofit organization providing information on health issues to the nation.

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

The ‘Grief Pandemic’ Will Torment Americans for Years published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

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gordonwilliamsweb · 3 years

Text

The ‘Grief Pandemic’ Will Torment Americans for Years

Cassandra Rollins’ daughter was still conscious when the ambulance took her away.

This story also ran on USA Today. It can be republished for free.

Shalondra Rollins, 38, was struggling to breathe as covid overwhelmed her lungs. But before the doors closed, she asked for her cellphone, so she could call her family from the hospital.

It was April 7, 2020 — the last time Rollins would see her daughter or hear her voice.

More than a year later, Rollins said, the grief is unrelenting.

“You would think that as time passes it would get better,” said Rollins, 57, of Jackson, Mississippi. “Sometimes, it is even harder. … This wound right here, time don’t heal it.”

“Unequivocally, grief is a public health issue,” said Prigerson, who lost her mother to covid in January. “You could call it the grief pandemic.”

“People holler about not being able to have a birthday party,” Rollins said. “We couldn’t even have a funeral.”

Many of those grieving say celebrating the end of the pandemic feels not just premature, but insulting to their loved ones’ memories.

“You would think that as time passes it would get better. Sometimes, it is even harder. … This wound right here, time don’t heal it.”

Cassandra Rollins, of Jackson, Mississippi

Communities of color, which have experienced disproportionately higher rates of death and job loss from covid, are now carrying a heavier burden.

Rollins said everyone she knows has lost someone to covid.

“You wake up every morning, and it’s another day they’re not here,” Rollins said. “You go to bed at night, and it’s the same thing.”

A Lifetime of Loss

Rollins has been battered by hardships and loss since childhood.

Rollins gave birth to Shalondra at age 17, and the two were especially close. “We grew up together,” Rollins said.

Rollins’ son, Tyler, enlisted in the Army after high school, hoping to follow in the footsteps of other men in the family who had military careers.

Yet the hardest losses of Rollins’ life were still to come. In 2019, Tyler killed himself at age 20, leaving behind a wife and unborn child.

“When you see two Army men walking up to your door,” Rollins said, “that’s unexplainable.”

Tyler’s daughter was born the day Shalondra died.

“They called to tell me the baby was born, and I had to tell them about Shalondra,” Rollins said. “I don’t know how to celebrate.”

Shalondra’s death from covid changed her daughters’ lives in multiple ways.

Makalin Odie, 14, said her mother, as a teacher, would have made online learning easier. “It would be very different with my mom here.”

The girls especially miss their mom on holidays.

“My mom always loved birthdays,” said Alana Odie, 16. “I know that if my mom were here my 16th birthday would have been really special.”

Asked what she loved most about her mother, Alana replied, “I miss everything about her.”

Grief Complicated by Illness

The trauma also has taken a toll on Alana and Makalin’s health. Both teens have begun taking medications for high blood pressure. Alana has been on diabetes medication since before her mom died.

Grief can lead to “broken-heart syndrome,” a temporary condition in which the heart’s main pumping chamber changes shape, affecting its ability to pump blood effectively, Verdery said.

“It may be harder for them for many years to come,” Parker said. “We don’t know the fallout yet, because we are still in the middle of it.”

Rollins said she would have liked to arrange a big funeral for Shalondra. Because of restrictions on social gatherings, the family held a small graveside service instead.

Funerals are important cultural traditions, allowing loved ones to give and receive support for a shared loss, Parker said.

While many people are afraid to acknowledge depression, because of the stigma of mental illness, mourners know they can cry and wail at a funeral without being judged, Parker said.

“What happens in the African American house stays in the house,” Parker said. “There’s a lot of things we don’t talk about or share about.”

Funerals and burial rites are especially important in the Black community and others that have been marginalized, Bordere said.

“They bag them and double-bag them and put them in the ground,” Parker said. “It is an indignity.”

Coping With Loss

Every day, something reminds Rollins of her losses.

April brought the first anniversary of Shalondra’s death. May brought Teacher Appreciation Week.

Yet Rollins said the memory of her children keeps her going.

When she begins to cry and thinks she will never stop, one thought pulls her from the darkness: “I know they would want me to be happy. I try to live on that.”

USE OUR CONTENT

This story can be republished for free (details).

The ‘Grief Pandemic’ Will Torment Americans for Years published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

0 notes