#nobody ever told me how much time we had??? so the appointment was shorter than i expected | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dibs4ever · 3 years

Text

Grieving

Nathan Gordon smiled at the little red headed bundle in his arms. So tiny, and new. Only a month old and so much had already happened to the poor child she had already gone through so much. Her mentally unstable mother running off in the night with her 4 year old brother.

Leaving her father alone with the newborn and a paper signing her rights over. Why keep one but not the other?

Nathan couldn’t understand it

Then again Barbara Keen never was exactly right in the mind

“Dad thanks again for offering to do childcare.” The voice of Jim Gordon spoke

Nathan looked up at his son and shook his head “Think nothing of it. It’ll give me something to do with my days now that I’m retired” he smiled bringing his infant granddaughter to his shoulder

Jim smiled “Well there is absolutely nobody else in the world I’d trust Barbara with. You raised my sister and I on your own which wasn’t exactly common in the 70s and 80s “

Nathan chuckled “Your mother was involved.”

Jim looked at his father over the brim of his glasses. Okay so maybe he did raise the kids on his own for the most part

Little back story on Nathan Peter Gordon

After getting an honorary discharge from the Vietnam war due to an injured leg he did what all the war men did and found a wife to marry and settle down with. It was 1962 he was 25 years old when he married Francis.

She wasn’t like his friends wives, she wasn’t sweet or doting. She didn’t ask him how is day was

She was a bitter women who wouldn’t stand for anyone who didn’t agree with her.

If he was being honest with himself the only reason he married her was because that’s what was expected of him. Women weren’t where his attraction laid. But being a gay man in the 1960s was just asking for a lifetime of criticism. Besides Francis could give him what he desired to be most. A father. Which happened in 1963 when his his daughter Hannah was born and then 3 years later when James was born

He absolutely loved being a father but always feared leaving them with Francis when he left forgot work as an attorney . She was cruel to them.

In 1970 after years of verbal abuse and accusations from Francis he finally confessed to the woman that he was gay.

They promptly divorced, Francis shocked the judge when she requested only to have the children every other weekend. Allowing Nathan to be the primary caregiver.

Something he thanked it was probably the only nice thing she ever did for him. Although he was certain she didn’t want them anyways. It wasn’t easy being a single dad but he wouldn’t trade it for anything, he supported and loved his children. Praising their accomplishments. Hugging them when they were downs and giving advice as they grew up under his wings.

Fast forward it’s 1996 and he’s holding his 30 year old sons newborn daughter.

Nathan takes care of his granddaughter every day and some nights for the next 5 years as his son worked his way up in the GCPD.

Then in 2001 she starts kindergarten and he only has her after school and some nights. It’s a bittersweet moment for both Nathan and Barbara. The two of them were each other’s best friends

Nathan waited outside the school with the other parents and caregivers. The school doors opening

“Grandpa!” The five year old shouted running across the school courtyard and into his arms with a flying leap.

She snuggled into his chest “I missed you.”

He chuckled lightly “So did I, come on little one, let's go get ice cream. It's Friday after all.” He smiled

4 years later he’s on his way to pick her up from school again. He hadn’t been feeling right . He has a coughing fit, then looks down at the kleenex...blood. Something wasn't right

Stuffing the napkin product in his pocket he decided to put on a brave face and go pick the light of his life Barbara Gordon up from school. She’d help him relax till his Doctors appointment next week

Nine year old Barbara opens the back car door and climbs in

“Hi grandpa.” She smiles leaning over the seat to plant a kiss on his cheek “Did you make any snacks at home? I’m starving.”

Nathan smiled, he almost always prepared a small snack for his growing grandauter to have when she returned from school. But today he had felt so ill and afraid due to coughing up blood that he completely.forgotten be had planned to make a her-her favorite snack of homemade nacho.

”I thought we’d get ice cream” be spoke looking back at the girl in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the driveway

She laughed lightly he freckles doing a little dance when her nose scrunched up. He adored her freckles “Grandpa it’s only Tuesday. We only get ice cream on Friday’s.”

He shrugged “Who says we gotta play by the rules.” He winked

Barbara smiled at him

The following year Nathan Gordon passes away from cancer. He’s surrounded by his daughter Hannah, her husband and their children along with his son and Barbara.

Barbara Gordon sat in the office chair of her fathers office. Since her grandfathers recent passing her dad had yet to make arrangements for a new childcare provider.

Not that she needed a babysitter. She wasn’t a baby. She was 10. Besides the past couple months her grandpa had been so weak she basically took care of herself anyways

Her dad had been gone for a while. Where to? she didn’t know. He never told her anything anyways.

She sighed and continued drawing random doodles on the piece of copy paper she’d been using for the past 30 minutes to occupy her time.

The door opened. Her dad stepping in. But he wasn’t alone . A boy with dark hair, shorter than her but probably around her age stood at his side. This she knew wasn’t common. Very rarely did her father handle children personally like this at work. The boy was looking down sadly.

“Why don’t you take a seat son” her father waved to the pair of seats that sat infront of his desk. The boy nodded then moved and took a seat in one of the chairs

“Barbara this is Richard. He’s 10 like you. Why don’t you keep him company while I make some phone calls in the hall.” Her dad informed

She nodded and watched him walk out, the office door closing behind him

After a moment of Richard not looking up, Barbara moved and switched seats to the available one beside him

“I’m Barbara, how are you Richard?” She asked

He shrugged

“Not much of a talker Huh? It’s okay I’ll talk. I’ve been bored out of my mind all night. My dad thinks I need a babysitter but I don’t. I mean I’ve literally been sitting in this office by myself all night anyways so tell me what the difference would be if I was sitting at my home all night alone?”

Silence

“I’ll tell ya, nothing. I finished all my homework within 30 minutes of being here. My grandpa had me on a strict routine. If dad was ever around when I got home from school the past 5 years he’d know I always finish my school work promptly. What grade are you in Richard?”

“Can you call me Dick?” He spoke softly

Barbara grinned “He speaks....uhh sure I guess. Like I was saying my grandpa. He knew, he always said I should skip a grade. Grandpa knew more about me then my dad.”

Dick looked up at her “I’m in 4th grade. You talk a lot” a small smile played on the boys lips. Although his blue eyes were still filled with saddness

Barbara flashed him a smile back “Sorry my grandpa always said I talked a lot when I was nervous and you being so quiet kinda brought it out.”

Dick nodded “You and your grandpa are close? You’ve already talked about him 3 times in the past 10 minutes”

Barbara inhaled a breath at the mention “We were he Umm. He died last month.”

Dick looked down again “Oh”

She nodded “First time someone close to me has ever died. Have ugh have you ever lost someone. Maybe you could help me, give me some advice.”

Dick was silent “I’ve lost someone. But I don’t have advice.”

Barbara tilted her head “Who did you loose?”

He took a deep breath “My parents.” He squinted his eyes

Her eyes widened she couldn’t imagine loosing her father. Loosing her grandfather was tearing her up inside as it was “When?” She wondered. They were only 10. How young was he when he became an orphan?

“Tonight-they were murdered. I saw it.” He choked

Barbara’s jaw dropped. That explained why he was here “Dick, I’m so sorry!”

Tears began to flow slowly from the boys eyes

Not knowing what to do, the young girl moved her hand grabbing the fellow boys hand and lacing their fingers. To her relief the boy squeezed hers tighter. Letting her know that the small movement was just the right amount of comfort he needed at that moment. Together the two adolescents sat holding hands. Tears slowly streaming down their faces. Finding comfort in their newfound friendship and grieving their recently lost loved ones

#dickbabs #dick grayson #barbara gordon #nightwing #batgirl

38 notes · View notes

jennycalendar · 3 years

Text

not posting this to ao3 bc the convoluted context only exists on tumblr, but here’s a mini thing i wrote today from that au where oz is dating giles and jenny’s daughter. also giles and jenny were in a band together pre-canon for a little while and have a very convoluted love story that i swear will eventually be a fic. fun times.

other things pre-fic that are fun:

ripper and jenny spent like a decade in la co-running a music store together while also raising their kids. jenny handled the actual business, ripper taught guitar classes on the side. janna is very musically gifted but teddy can’t carry a tune to save her life.

theoretically this is a version of canon where janna and buffy are the same age, and someday i will also write the fic where janna appoints herself buffy’s watcher, kicks wesley in the knees, and screams at every member of the council that comes near buffy. she’s heard enough horror stories from her dad.

“Are you nervous?”

The question took Oz by surprise. “Should I be?”

Janna didn’t answer. When he turned to look at her, he saw that she was looking out the window at what he assumed was their final destination: a relatively ordinary-looking house with the beginnings of a vegetable garden on the front lawn. “The last time I brought a guy home to meet my parents, he was super nervous,” she said. “Like, all spacey and weird. My dad was extra nice to him to compensate, but my mom kinda antagonized him a little ‘cause she thought it was funny. She probably won’t do that to you, though. I bet she’ll like you. I mean, she likes pretty much all my friends that I actually care about, and last time I brought a guy home I didn’t actually like him. Mostly it was just to show up Teddy ‘cause she’s always giving me grief about—”

Abruptly, Oz understood. Without a word, he gently tugged Janna’s clenched fists into his own hands, untangling the tightly coiled fingers to lace them with his own.

Janna exhaled. Shakily, she said, “I just really want them to like you.”

“I know,” said Oz.

“I mean really. Usually I don’t care a whole bunch, but you’re different.”

“I know,” said Oz.

“And sometimes my mom can be a little mean. Not like mean-mean, she’s just like that, it’s her way of being nice—”

Oz tugged on Janna’s hands, pulling her into a careful hug. Janna let out a nervous laugh and pressed a clumsy kiss just under his jaw. “I’m a pretty easy guy to like,” he said. “Unless your parents are the kind that don’t like it when a guy is in a band.”

“That would be totally hypocritical,” said Janna. “They were in a band.”

Processing this, Oz felt a slow smile sneak across his face. “So it’s genetic?”

Janna blinked, then smiled too. “Kinda, yeah! They ran a music store in LA till we moved. My dad’s the one who taught me how to play guitar and sing and stuff. He’s not classically trained or anything, but he takes it super seriously.”

“Your dad sounds pretty cool,” said Oz.

“He is pretty cool,” said Janna, her smile growing.

Gently, Oz tugged on Janna’s hand, then let go to open his door and get out of the car. He crossed around to open the door for her too, extending a hand to help her out. She laughed, letting him pull her out of the car, and tripped very purposefully to fall for a moment against his chest; he nudged the car door shut behind her and tugged her into a hug. “We got this, Jay,” he said, smoothing down her hair.

Though she was still very clearly nervous, Janna nodded, tucking her arm into his as they walked up the driveway. Oz rang the doorbell.

Thudding footsteps came from inside the house. Janna groaned. “Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath.

“Is this the boyfriend?” demanded a voice as the door was wrenched open. Looking down, Oz saw a small girl of about twelve surveying the two of them with interest. “I thought he’d be taller. How come he’s shorter than you? Why—”

“I am gonna punt you into next Tuesday, Teddy,” Janna threatened.

“Oh, this is Theodora?” said Oz with interest. “Pleasure.”

“At least someone has manners,” said Teddy with great dignity, turning on her heel and striding down the hall.

“Aren’t you gonna invite us in?” Janna yelled after her.

“Nope!” Teddy yelled back. “You’re probably vampires!”

“Someday I’m gonna kick her like a soccer ball and no one will ever see her again,” Janna was muttering as she yanked Oz over the threshold, roughly divesting him of his coat to hang it on a nearby coat tree. “I used to play soccer in middle school and I think I still know how to do it. Maybe I can get Buffy to do it. I bet if I kicked her really hard—”

“No kicking your sister,” came a very familiar voice.

If Oz was the kind of person whose jaw dropped, he thought it might have right then. Standing in the kitchen doorway was none other than Jenny Calendar, the original drummer for the Spitfires—the one who had toured with the band for two years before she and the lead guitarist dropped out to raise a kid. Jenny Calendar was looking between the two of them with an intrigued grin. Oz had a record with this lady’s face on it. “Uh,” he said. “What?”

“What?” said Janna, as though this was just a normal meeting between Oz and his girlfriend’s mom. “Anyway, mom, this is Oz. Oz, this is my mom, she—”

“I know who she is,” said Oz.

“Well, duh, I just told you,” said Janna. “Where’s Dad? Is he upstairs dissecting bug things for Buffy again?”

“Yeah, that was one time and I told them both they’re never doing that again. That’s my job in this house.” Jenny ruffled Janna’s hair. “Glad nothing ate you on your way here.”

“If it does, you gotta make a necklace out of my bones or something metal like that,” said Janna very seriously.

“God, you’re just like your dad,” said Jenny.

“Oh, yeah, it’s me she gets it from,” quipped Ripper, rounding the corner with Teddy on his shoulders. “Not like anyone else in this house was violent and terrifying at fifteen.”

“Okay, one, shut up. Two, no one needs to hear any of those stories. Three, shut up.” Jenny punched Ripper’s shoulder, careful to avoid jostling Teddy.

Oz was thankfully a little bit more prepared for Ripper’s entrance. If the Spitfires’ drummer was Janna’s mom, the lead guitarist pretty much had to be her dad. “Uh, hey, Janna,” he said, tugging at his girlfriend’s sleeve, “can we—talk outside for a sec?”

Janna looked a little puzzled, but acquiesced without much argument.

Shutting the door behind them, Oz said, “Your parents are Jenny and Ripper.”

“Huh?” said Janna, then, “Oh,” and then her face split open in a huge smile. “I didn’t know you knew about them! Pretty much nobody does! They left the Spitfires before the band got big, so it’s not like I bring it up a lot—”

“Okay, this makes so much sense,” said Oz.

Janna blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Your whole,” Oz waved a hand, “cool thing. It’s not just you, it’s genetic.” He grinned. “I don’t think I stood a chance.”

Janna went very pink, her smile impossibly bright. “You totally have to tell them you like their stuff,” she said. “Dad’s kinda mellow about it, but Mom has these insane stories from the years before she and Dad hooked up and she loves telling people about them.”

“Well, I’d love to hear your mom’s cool band stories,” said Oz, squeezing Janna’s hand. “Probably have a few of our own to share, right?”

“I mean, I’ve told them most of my good ones,” said Janna. “Remember that one time I broke a guitar over Devon’s head?”

“Fondly,” said Oz.

Janna snickered. “Dad’s done worse,” she said. “He was in Wretched for a little while. It was more of a Brit thing so you probably haven’t heard of it, but we have a demo album that they made and it’s soooo bad—”

“Mom wants to know when you’re coming in for dinner!” Teddy yelled from inside the house.

“IN A MINUTE!” Janna yelled back.

“We could go in now,” Oz suggested, “if you—”

Draping her arms around his neck, Janna said, “Give me a minute, Daniel.”

~~~

“Oh my god, I love him,” said Jenny delightedly. “Rupert, he knows our stuff! Does anyone ever know our stuff?”

“Janna’s last one didn’t,” said Ripper, attempting to take a forkful of casserole off his wife’s plate. Jenny whacked his fork with her knife. “Though I do think our darling Teddy psychologically broke the poor chap halfway through dessert.”

“If he was weak enough to be broken by a fifth-grader, he deserved to start crying,” said Teddy mildly. “It’s just facts.”

“She gets the mean streak from me,” said Jenny affectionately, looking at Teddy with adoring pride. “Mama’s girl.”

“They both get the mean streak from you,” said Ripper. Jenny started throwing wadded-up paper towels at him. “See?” he said, catching one of them and lobbing it back in his wife’s direction. “This. This is what I mean.”

“Your family is cool,” said Oz. “My mom’s gonna have a lot to measure up to.”

“Oh god I have to meet your mom?” squeaked Janna. “No one’s ever wanted me to meet their mom! Oh my god, you didn’t—why would I—”

“You know she’s never been this nervous about anyone she’s dated?” said Teddy conspiratorially to Oz. “I think she really likes you. Plus she writes your names together all the time on the fogged-up mirror in the bathroom and she made you a mixtape but she’s too scared to give it—”

“I’m gonna throw you out a goddamn window,” Janna hissed in Teddy’s direction. “You better believe I will.”

“Oz, you’re in a band, yeah?” said Ripper, giving Oz a little grin. “Might be nice to play sometime together, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, I would,” said Oz, and smiled back.

#fic #janna au #calendiles #ISH but they're married #(they got spontaneously married in vegas so that it would be easier to co-run a business)#anyway: yes. pls enjoy this snip. i am writing again now but it's all stuff that will take a while to see the light of day.

19 notes · View notes

leafs-lover · 4 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 8

Series Masterlist

A/N: Italics indicate flashback. I honestly think there is a better chance of Seattle drafting him, then him signing in Pittsburgh (or any team really). I haven’t followed much of the Kraken and potential draft picks from each team so I went with the option of him going to Pittsburgh so I could add in some of the wags and players from that team.

Summary: When Freddie returns back a few days after he begins training for the next season he seems slightly on edge, but you associate that to him not having a contract. You haven’t had any major conversations about your trip to Denmark and some of the events that transpired. You are nearing the 30 week mark of your pregnancy, beginning to get slightly more uncomfortable and begin to feel really unprepared. You gave your landlord notice thinking that a 1 bedroom wouldn’t work with a baby. Now you have less than 90 days to find somewhere and you are stressed.

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Word Count: 2605

August 28, 2021

Fred shows up with very little notice, alerting you to something. He pulls you in for a brief hug before leading you to the couch.

“So I’m not re-signing” he starts. “Toronto has traded for a new goalie the news will break soon. I’ve been contacted by some teams since free agency started, but I didn’t give an answer because I was hopeful of staying. Even with a short term deal for now.”

You sit there processing everything in silence. “Pittsburgh let Murray go; I think I’m signing there.”

At least it’s an eastern team you think to yourself. Slightly shorter flight, more games against to see him during the season.

But still your son won’t have much of a relationship with his dad, only seeing him for what 20 days maybe 30 days throughout the entire season. Then you split the off season time? Not ideal, far from it.

Fred waits for you to respond and begins looking around the apartment noticing the boxes “you moving?” he asks touching your wrist.

The contact brings you back around. “Uh yeah I thought with a baby I’d need more space so I gave up my lease with thoughts of getting a 2 bedroom. But I didn’t consider I’m pregnant and uncomfortable and only going to get worse so packing will suck. And that I might not find a decent 2 bedroom around this neighborhood. I should have waited until after he was born. Added unnecessary stress to myself.”

“Why don’t you take my condo? Its 2 bedrooms and I won’t need it since I don’t live here anymore” he offers.

“I can’t afford that.”

“I would pay for it, I mean it’s not that much an-"

“Fred, no you can’t. I won’t. I can’t be that girl?”

“What girl?” he asks confused.

“The girl that gets pregnant by someone with money and uses him for his money. Like everybody already thinks I’m using you for your money, to get a payday or something.”

“Nobody thinks that.”

“Your dad does!” you exclaim.

“My dad does? What do you mean?”

“Shit I didn’t want to say anything. Just nothing” you try to get up as he grabs your wrist.

“Tell me (y/n). Now”

After eating dinner the first night, Charlotte is cleaning dishes. Fred and his siblings have wondered off. You sit at the couch as you hear someone sit beside you. It’s Ernst, Frederik’s dad. He is slightly drunk from wine with dinner. He hasn’t really spoken much since you arrived.

“How have you been handling everything? Have there been any media stories or anything?”

“Uh no, not that I know of. But Fred and I don’t hang out and go to restaurants or anything. The only time we go out together is to doctor’s appointment and they are discreet. I don’t think there are any rumblings of this" you say rubbing your stomach.

“I see” He takes a sip. “How do you feel about the attention the baby might have once born?”

“I mean Fred is pretty private to begin with and doesn’t draw much attention which is shocking in Toronto. But even if the media does learn of this I can’t see it becoming a big thing since Fred keeps his life pretty private. But obviously Fred can handle this however he feels is best in the media.”

Ernst nods “still all this must be nice."

“All of what?” you question tensing slightly.

“This, the money the lifestyle. Even if you don’t have the fame and people don’t know or care about you, it must be nice knowing you are set for life."

“Excuse me" you exclaim.

“I’m sure your parents would have been happy about this situation” he scoffs.

“First of all I do not care about the money. I told Fred at the beginning I don’t need his money or his help. I just wanted him to know so he could be involved in this child’s life if he wanted.”

Ernst begins to talk as you hold a finger up “I’m not done. Second of all if my parents were alive they would have been disappointed at first with me not being in a relationship with the father. But they would have gotten over it, and became supportive, and would help me in any way possible instead of attacking the father of my child.” With that you get up and leave.

Fred stares at you before saying “just because my dad thinks that doesn’t mean me or anyone else does. He’s an idiot.”

“But you did think this! You accused me of this exact thing!” you shout. You stand up to leave when Fred gently reaches for you wrist “(Y/N)” he says softly. “You have to know I don’t think that, and I was idiot for ever saying that before. I didn’t handle this best at first. I honestly hope you know I don’t think that, I never did.”

“When we first met up I said I can do this on my own and I meant it. I don’t need you paying for me” you huff.

“I know you don’t, and you haven’t asked me for anything.” Fred pulls you onto his lap “besides you aren’t asking me to do this, I want to do this. I’m going to ensure this child is taken care of while I’m away. If I wasn’t a professional athlete I would still pay child support because it’s the right thing and I’m not a jackass. For now instead of support let me do this. I will feel better knowing where you guys are living, knowing it’s comfortable, safe and sufficient. Let me do this in lieu of child support, for now at least. Let me do this because it is right and don’t worry about what my dad or anyone else thinks.”

“Okay fine” you reluctantly agree.

“And we aren’t done with the child support discussion; I will be paying on top of the apartment.”

You groan “you are ridiculous.”

“Me, I could say the same about you” he laughs as you smack his arm jokingly.

“So Pittsburgh?” you finally ask.

“Yeah, it’s not too far. Only an hour flight"

“Yeah but an hour with a baby, and the time to pack get to the airport; get to your place from the airport. Customs, baggage claim. One hour can easily be 3 for one flight. And you’ll be busy for most of the time we’re there, and then a few days later I turn around and do it all again coming back” you say, his expression shifts. “And it’s not like you can come here, you only get a few days off during the season, by the time you fly in and have to leave it could be like 8 hours. It’s a lot of travel time.”

“You saying it’s not worth it? To make these sacrifices and maybe only having 8 hours isn’t worth it for me to see my son, for my son to know me?” His tone shifts as he speaks louder “to me the length of time isn’t important as long as I get to see him and watch him grow up”

“No Fred. I’m not saying that at all. Any time with you would be amazing, I would kill for 8 hours with my dad. Any time with you will be good for both of you. Just that this would be easier if we were in the same city, you in Toronto or…” you immediately trail off.

“Or what?” he asks. “If you were in Pittsburgh?”

“I mean yeah that would be easier obviously but I live here, I work here.”

“Except you’ll be on maternity leave.” You fall silent. “I’m not saying you stay for the entire thing but you could come for some of it and instead of making weekend trips to Pittsburgh you make weekend trips to Toronto.”

“Fred mat leave in Canada last between 12-18 months, that’s a long time for me to crash your life”

“Think of it, I can get a 3 or 4 bedroom in Pittsburgh. I can be there for milestones and not have a virtual relationship with my son until the summer comes around. You can even just come for times I’m at home and I can fly you both back when I have road trips. We can do this together, figure out how to be parents, learn from each other’s mistakes. You don’t need to answer now but promise you’ll think about it please"

You smile and kiss him on the cheek “promise I’ll think about it. So when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow" he whispers putting his arm around your waist.

You shift so your mouth is breathing on his neck as you turn to straddle; he groans “that’s so soon” you whisper leaving light kisses on his neck.

You lift his shirt off, moving your hand down his chest. He lifts his hips causing you to moan as you feel his hard member brush against you. You slide off him and onto your knees as you pull his shorts and boxers down. His hard cock springs up slapping his stomach.

You wrap your hands around it and begin to stroke it as his head falls back, precum dripping down him. You moan as you lick his tip tasting him. You lick your lips looking up at him and quickly replace your hand with your mouth.

“Oh fuck babe” you hear him mumble as you begin to bob up and down. You use your hand to cup his balls as you slide all of him in your mouth hitting the back of your throat. Tears begin to pool as you hear “Babe. Fuck you can’t keep doing that"

You should let up but that only encourages you. You pick up your pace, deep throating him as you continue. He begins to lift his hips pushing further into your throat. You moan around him encouraging him to continue. He keeps lifting his hips as you swirl your tongue and hollow your cheek for him. His hangs grip your hair and pull tight; soon you feel warm spurts spill down your throat.

“You didn’t have to do that” he says pulling you up to your feet.

“I know, I wanted to. Not going to see you for a bit.” You say moving to straddle him. He tangles his fingers in your hair bringing his face to yours. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you fight for dominance. He pulls back sucking on your bottom lip.

“You’re right it could be a bit. Guess I better treat you right tonight so I know you are gonna make it these next 9 or so weeks without me.” He lifts your dress up and slides your underwear to the side, slipping two fingers in. He uses his left hand to brace your hips as you put your hands on his shoulders. He uses his hand to start rocking you on his hand, and you feel him grow hard under you. You pick up the pace, your hands tightening on his shoulders. You continue rocking, as he pushes his fingers in and out, using his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

“Mmmmm.”

“Kom nu skat” he whispers. “Kom nu”

You keep riding his hands as your orgasm rips through you; you fall forward leaning your head on his shoulder as his pace slows. He brings his lips into your hair placing light kisses. As you finally come down you tilt your head to look at him as he brings his fingers to his mouth sucking on his fingers.

“You good babe?” he questions “it’s not too much?”

“No, not enough” you say as a smile comes across your face.

He grabs you flipping you over so your hands and knees are on the couch. You feel the couch shift behind you as his hard cock brushes your folds. He pushes in causing you to scream out.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, you feel his balls push against you. He keeps up the pace as you scream under him “Freddd, fuck Fred!”

“Yeah baby, you like that?” he pushes in deep, gripping your hips forcefully. You’re definitely going to have marks and a noise complaint tomorrow. His one hand slips around to your clit as he keeps pounding into you. He rubs your sensitive bud. “Cum for me skat, cum for me.”

He keeps up the pace and you fall apart, he moves his hand from your clit to wrap around you holding you up as you come undone. You come back around as he is still pounding into you, both his hand gripping your hips tightly. One hand leaves to smack your ass causing you to yelp.

His pace continues, his hand stroking your ass. He pulls his hand away to his lips and sucks on it, quickly bringing it down to your ass to put his index finger in. You keep up the pace groaning loudly. “Shitttt.” He briefly stops and flips so he is on his back with you straddling him. He returns his hands to your hips as you place a hand on his chest starting a quick pace.

“You look so good on me,” a hand coming up to rub your nipple. You rock your hips against his as he slaps your ass. You bring your other hand down to your clit as he fucks up into you. You can feel him becoming sloppy “you gonna cum again babe?” he questions.

You nod, unable to speak. He pulls out and thrusts fully into you. He sits up to change the angle, causing you to instantly come undone. You clench around him “fuck” he says as his warmth begins to fill you as you pace slows, “you feel so good.”

“So do you. You have no idea how good. I wouldn’t have survived this pregnancy without you.”

“Yeah you have really needed me, three orgasms eh?”

You look towards him and chuckle “the pregnancy has had me pretty sensitive, they come easily” you start saying.

“Well I remember the night I made this” he says rubbing your stomach “there was 4 then, no hormones then.”

“I mean yeah I wouldn’t have survived my hormones” you laugh “but having you be around has helped to keep me sane. Not being alone.”

He pulls you into his chest as he lies back wrapping an arm around you. “You’ll never be alone, you need to know that. I’m always with you in this.”

“What am I going to do for these next 10 weeks without you?” you whisper. He kisses your hair as you doze off for a nap.

You wake up a few hours later in bed, but you feel Fred’s tongue gently licking your folds. “Mmmm Fred” you moan. “Smuk” he mumbles gently nibbling the inside of your thigh “du er smuk” as he dives back in. The rest of the night was spent with the two of you trading orgasms and cuddles.

You wake in the morning reaching over to feel it’s empty and cold. You get up and find Fred shirtless, his track pants hung very low in your kitchen making you breakfast. His back is to you as he stands at the stove, unaware that you have woken up. You walk up behind him wrapping your arms around him “thought I would have more time to get this done.” You walk over to the island sitting down, “no worries I don’t mind the view.” He laughs turning back to the stove finishing breakfast for you both.

Next Chapter

#Freddie Andersen #Freddie Andersen Smut #Freddie Andersen Fic #Frederik Andersen #Frederik Andersen Smut #Frederik Andersen Fic #nhl smut #nhl fic #freddie andersen x reader #frederik andersen x reader #fredzilla #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #because two people got drunk #my writing

82 notes · View notes

uberff · 5 years

Text

Chapter 25

Jaylen

“Fuck am I?” I questioned to myself.

“Lenny! That damn mouth of yours.” I heard my mamas voice, which made my face light up immediately. There she stood, with that beautiful glow she always had.

“You cursed too, mama.” I laughed as she gave me a look.

“I am grown.”

“So I’m not 24?” I smiled down at her as I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her in a big ass hug. Why the fuck she had to be away from me for so long? I wasn’t shit without my mama.

“Your baby girls are wearing me out, chile. You see this grey hair?” She asked, as I twisted my eyebrows up in confusion. I ain’t have no baby girls. I ain’t even have a kid yet.

“What bab-“

“Daddy, daddy!” I heard the soft voices of two little girls. I turned around to look at them before I froze. The twins..

They were so beautiful man. They looked just like that damn Jasmine.

They both ran into my arms as I hold onto them for dear life, not wanting to ever let go. My fucking babies. “I’m tired!” I heard one of them say as I chuckled before letting them go.

“Stop eating so much candy!” One of them said. I looked at the gold necklaces sitting on their necks, realizing that it was Jaime that said that.

Their names were Jace and Jaime..

I laughed at her remark, because that’s honestly something I would say. I looked over at Jaime who wore a smirk and Jace who folded her arms.

The more I looked at them, the more I started to tell the two apart. Jace was a bit shorter with the fattest cheeks ever that had freckles plastered across them. She looked like the sweetest girl ever.

Jaime? She reminded me of myself a bit. She looked mean as hell, and she ain’t talk that much. If she did, she had something smart to say.

“See, they’re a handful. So much personality to deal with.” My mama said as she started watering some flowers like she always would.

“Yea I can tell.” I said as I watched them both start talking about lord knows what.

“What y’all like to do?”

“Play dress up! Can I dress you daddy?” Jace asked as she tugged on my shirt.

“Yea, I gotchu’ lil munchkin’.” I played with her long pigtails.

“What about you Jaime?”

“Paint! Can you paint with me?” By now both of them were holding either side of my hand, and I didn’t know what to do.

“How about th-“ I stopped myself mid sentence when I noticed that everything was starting to fade out, and it wasn’t so beautiful no more. All of a sudden, darkness took over and as soon as I looked around for my mom, there she was being pushed into an ambulance.

“Mama!” I yelled out, trying to go after the truck but it just disappeared. What the fuck was going on?

I looked up only to see a woman with doctors that had utensils in their hands, trying to snatch my baby girls away from me. “Get the fuck away from me!” I yelled as I tried my hardest to keep them in my arms.

“Stop taking every fucking thing away from me!” I screamed as I woke up from a deep ass sleep, sweating hard as fuck.

I took deep breaths, looking at my surroundings only to see a naked Robyn standing over me, eating grapes out of a big ass bag with a scared look on her face. “Did you have a bad dream? Are you okay?” This damn girl.

I sighed, putting my face in my palms. “Yea.. I’m not goin’ back to sleep. Fuck that shit.”

“What’s wrong with you?” She sat her bag down.

“Can I ask you some shit?” I ignored her question, not wanting to go into detail about shit.

“Shoot!” She sang as she attempted to do the dance, but failed miserably. Robyn had no fucking rhythm.

“You ugly for that shit.” I said as she laughed hard, playfully pushing my shoulder.

“I’m dead-da-fuck sears though. Ask me.”

“Why you doin’ this?”

“Jaylen, I’m not gonna leave you here alone while you’re going through whatever you’re going through. I care about you and I don’t want you doing anything stupid.”

“Shit that’s what the fuck I feel like, real fucking talk..”

“What do you feel like?” She took my hand and rubbed her stomach.

“Alone, bruh. Every time I think I got some shit, it’s snatched away from me. Every time something going good for me, it’s always too good to be true. Shit a nigga feel trapped. I always try to do some good shit, and the shit always backfire. I can’t win for losing, Robyn. Damn I swear, sometimes I just wanna end all this shit.” I said as I made eye contact with her. She had a look of sympathy.

“Don’t talk like that, Jay. You got people out here that love you, like me. I’d lose my mind if something happened to you. We got a baby in here,” She paused.

“We need you here with us. You are not alone. We all face struggles every single day, just gotta get through them babe.”

“I guess you right.” I admitted, as she smiled sweetly at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and once she noticed that I was staring dead at her, she started to look away. Robyn could never make eye contact with me.

In nude, she looked beautiful as fuck. Not just body wise, I’m talking about bare faced, no weave, no nothing. Her long jet black her complimented her bronzed skin perfectly. Don’t get me started on them hazel eyes. She was gorgeous.

I pray that we don’t have a girl, because if she looks anything like Rob.. Good luck Charlie.

Setting my hand on her thigh, she didn’t react at all so I started to caress her shit. And that’s when she started to tense up. “What are you trying to do?” She rose an eyebrow.

“What you talm’ bout?” I played it cool. She gave me a look that made me laugh. She saw right through my bullshit, every time.

“I’m tryna make electricity in this bitch. You walking around naked ain’t making shit no better.” I stated, squeezing her thigh. Usually, she’d be all over me by now but today.. today was different.

“Jaylen, you’re hurt. I don’t wanna have sex with you while you’re like this. It’s like you telling me all your problems and then I give you sex to cheer you up.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She had a straight face.

“Nah I’m playin’. I get you. I guess ima go paint or some shit.” I got out of my new comfortable ass bed, going to look for a shirt I ain’t care about.

Once I found one, I stopped walking to take a look at Robyn who was playing some game on her phone. “Hey Robyn..” I called out as she ignored me. She was too damn into those kiddy ass games she be playing.

“Robyn!” I called a little louder.

“Huh? Yea?”

“I love you.. aight? Like on some real shit, nobody can fucking take your place Rob. I love you more than life itself and that’s a fact.” I confessed, as she wore that beautiful smile on her face.

“I love you too Jay!”

My phone rang,making me wonder who the hell it was calling me right now. I grabbed it out of my pocket, and seen that it was an unfamiliar number. My curious ass answered anyways.

“Jaylen, can we talk?” I heard Jasmine’s voice, making me close my eyes and sigh. I could’ve sworn I told shawty to fuck off.

“There’s literally nothing for us to be discussing, my nigga. You killed my babies now what? You sorry? Fuck that shit, sorry ain’t gone bring my babies back.”

“Jay please. I don’t wanna end things like this.”

“I ain’t want my babies to get taken away from me either, but life ain’t always sweet.”

“Come on Jay.”

“... Where you at Jas? And if you try some shit, I’m pepper spraying yo ass.” I warned her, because that seemed to be the only thing I could do besides get Robyn to beat her ass. Man I wish I could do that.

“Subway.” After that, I hung up the phone because I knew she was at the Subway around the corner.

“Robyn?” I called her name as I walked into the bathroom, watching her put on her dress.

“Yea?”

“I’ll be back in like 10 minutes the most, okay?”

“Where are you going?” She asked out of curiosity.

“Handle some shit, just make sure you ready when I get back.”

It literally took me about two minutes to get the subway, because it was around the corner and nobody was really out on this hot ass Tuesday morning. I spotted Jas sitting outside on the bench, so I parked in front of her.

Grabbing my pepper spray, I slid that shit in my pocket right along with my phone before hopping out of the car. “I’m here.” I spoke as I stood up in front of her, looking down at her bare face. Jasmine was fucking beautiful, and it sucks that she went and did some ugly shit like that. I just couldn’t fuck wit her the same anymore.

“You’re not gonna sit?”

“Girl I ain’t come here to have a fucking Tea Party, I got a Doctor’s appointment for my baby to attend.” She sighed, and started to look at her feet. It was going on 5 minutes now.

“Congrats.”

“Jasmine, say what you gotta say.”

“I just.. I miss you Jaylen. Why can’t we just work things out?”

“Jas, I put my all into our relationship and we wasn’t even official yet. I ain’t never kept no shit from you, or did some bogus shit behind ya back. I always kept it a buck witchu’. You was somebody special to me Jas, somebody that I truly cared about. I thought we had built a trust, but I guess I was wrong. You know how I feel about kids. You could’ve came to me and let me know how you were feeling, and I would’ve shut all that shit down. Jasmine, you took not one, but two innocent lives away. Two lives I’ll never get to be in, all because of some thoughts you were having. And for that shit, I damn near fucking hate you and I’ll never forgive you. You lost my respect.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve never did that.” I just looked at her.

“So we won’t ever get back to where we were?”

“Honestly, my baby mama ain’t as bad as I claimed her out to be and I honestly only got eyes for her right now. I’m tryna get back on her good side, so we can be a family so I would appreciate it if you could respect that and keep ya distance.” I looked into her eyes that was once filled with hope, now filled with disappointment.

“Thanks for your time Jay, take care.” I nodded my head, walking to the car, feeling better than what I did when I was on my way here.

Closing and locking the door, I kicked my shoes off and looked around to find Robyn. I had picked up some roses for her, just because.

“Hey, I got you something.” I stood behind her in the kitchen, as she turned around with a mouth full of ice. This girl was always eating ice.

“Jay! They’re beautiful!” She took them from my hand, smelling them with a warm smile on her face. I loved putting a smile on her face, because literally anything would make her smile. It didn’t take much to please Robyn, but when I did, I always felt like that nigga.

“I got ya fav Tea, too.” I said as I slid her strawberry tea over to her. She jumped on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

“The fact that you remembered what my favorite things are.” She smiled, kissing all over my face. I licked my lips, staring into her eyes.

“How could I forget?” She smirked and got down.

“I could really bust it open for you right now.”

“That would be nice, but nah I’m jus tryna enjoy ya presence right now.” I smiled as she closed her eyes like she was about to cry.

“What I do?”

“Stop being sweet, you know I’m emotional.” I laughed, because that was true and we all knew it was. She cried more than my baby sister.

“You wanna watch a movie? I’ll build us a fort and shit.”

“Yes! I’ll make us some snacks.” She skipped to the kitchen with a big smile on her face. She loved shit like this. I did too, let me stop fronting.

Robyn

I felt like I haven’t spoken to my brother in a while, and I was truly missing him. I know he’s been busy with training, and I’ve been busy with designs. I tapped on his name, hoping he’d answer anyways.

After it rang for a while, he finally answered and the call started to connect. There was a big smile on my face, until I seen the look on his. He looked horrible, like he had been crying for weeks and the bags under his eyes were ridiculous.

“O, are you okay?” I was regretting not calling him a while ago.

“I’m fine.” I saw right through his bullshit. Something was obviously bothering him. I knew O like the back of my hand. Whenever his mind was heavy on something, he literally wouldn’t sleep or eat. It’s not healthy for him.

“Fine? Odell, I care about you.” He looked away before sighing.

“I promise you I’m fine Robyn, don’t stress over me.” He stated before hanging up the phone. I huffed, and tossed my phone to the other side of the couch. I didn’t wanna keep flying back and forth all the time, but if he does something stupid, I was totally gonna regret not going. Wait, let me call Winter.

“What you in here looking all sad about, beautiful?” I heard Jaylen’s raspy voice, letting me know he just woke up from his deep, high slumber. Whenever he went to sleep high, he would sleep for half the day.

“O.. he’s not acting like himself.”

“Maybe that nigga got the bubble guts or some shit.” He shrugged as he looked in the fridge, rubbing his stomach. Jaylen was out here getting chubby, but I loved every bit of it.

“Really?”

“I’m playing, chill on me. Yeen’ hit up Winter about it?” He asked as he sat down next to me, eating his leftovers from the dinner I made last night.

“No, I should right?” I asked as he started to lick his fingers viciously.

“Boy it is not that good.”

“Buggin’. Shit taste better than it did when you first made it. Don’t be feeding my son this shit, he gone end up fat like me.” I laughed, because he was right. I’ve been having a lot of free time lately, so cooking for Jaylen has became almost an everyday hobby of mines. He put on a couple of pounds, but I loved chubby Jaylen.

“Jay, seriously. What should I do?”

“Call Winter, and if she on the same shit he on, I can go down there for you. I gotta go back to get the last of my things anyways. My nigga ain’t suicidal or no shit, but you never know.”

“Okay, ima call her. Gimme a sec.” I stepped out of the room, going into the hall so I could call her. The phone rang a few times before she answered while coughing. I stared at my screen in shock, because she looked really sick.

“Win, what the hell is going on with you and my brother?”

“We’re fine Robyn, what are you talking about?” I sighed, because both of them were lying.

“Really Winter? Why are you guys keeping secrets? Are you sick?” She paused a while, then opened up her mouth to start talking.

“I have stomach cancer, Robyn. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but..” immediately, my heart fell out of my chest. I felt like a bitch now for pressuring them into telling me. I guess minding your business was always good.

“Win, oh my god.. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re fine, just please.. give us some space, okay? We’re still trying to cope with this as well.”

“So I cant come see you guys?”

“Yes, but just not now Rob.. that’s all I ask.” I sighed, respecting her wishes.

“Okay, I got you. Just let me know when you’re ready. I’m praying for you. I love you sis.”

“I love you too. Take care and stay healthy.” She said, before hanging up. Now my mood was ruined. Fuck, the truth does hurt. I walked back in the living room and sat next to Jaylen.

“So what the deal is?” He drank some of his apple juice.

“Win has stomach cancer Jay..” he immediately spit out his apple juice.

“The fuck? You serious?”

“Very.”

“We need to go back to NY ASAP then, fuck we waiting on? Why you so calm?” He stood up, panicking. Winter and Jay fought a lot, but Jaylen loved her like she was his blood sister on the inside. It was just their relationship.

“She said she’s not ready for us to come just yet.”

“Damn bruh. I bet this shit hit O hard. We can’t lose Win.”

“All we can do is pray.”

“Ion even pray often, but I will most definitely. I can’t lose no more family, bruh.”

“What happened with you a few nights back?” I questioned, because he never told me what was wrong with him.

“Jas was pregnant with twins and she aborted them without telling me.” I gasped, in shock that she would do such a thing. Jay and I weren’t on the best terms when I found out I was having his baby, but here we are trying to work shit out for the better. Abortion never crossed my mind. I was in no position to judge another woman, but she’s a coward for that.

“You want me to fight her?” He laughed, before shaking his head no.

“Fuck her.”

“You’re okay?”

“I mean, I been having bad dreams and shit about and it be on my mind heavy.. but I’m staying strong. Ima be straight.” I pulled his tall self into a hug, and held him tightly, rubbing his back.

“Don’t let me go.” He said in a girly voice, making me die of laughter while still holding him. Such a big baby, I swear.

“Our baby boy is gonna have the best parents in the world.”

“Fasho.” I pulled away from the hug, checking the time on my watch. I needed to be at the shop by 6:30. Summer’s ending, and my babies have been working their asses off in this damn heat back to back. They do way more than what I ask, and I couldn’t ask for a better team. I was gonna surprise them with trips to Jamaica. They literally talk about going all the time.

While they were gonna be gone, I had more than enough time to get new designs in the store since the new season is coming up. I couldn’t wait, because I loved fall.

“Hey, ima go to the shop. You staying here?”

“Nah, I wanna see ya shop. I’ll drive”. I nodded, finding some sandals to put on. Grabbing my Birkin that Jaylen purchased me a while back, I made sure everything I needed was inside.

I had been in the shower for quite a while now, and it was about that time that I got out. Jaylen had went outside to smoke, because he didn’t want to in the house since I was pregnant and since we were gonna he raising our baby here. He limits his smoking so much, and I’m really proud of him. When I first met him, you’d always catch him with a blunt in his mouth.

My mind was filled with thoughts about Winter, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. Maybe me not going down there was for the best. If I had seen her like that in person, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I just wanna hug her so bad though. I can’t even imagine how she’s feeling.

You think you have it bad, but there’s people out here doing way worse. I really need to start being more appreciative and thankful, because my life could be taken in any minute.

“Rob?” I heard Jaylen’s voice, but I ignored him because I didn’t want him to ruin the time I had to myself.

“Robyn I know ya bald headed ass hear me calling you.” I heard his heavy footsteps. Bingo, he found me.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard him pull the shower door back. “Jay!” I jumped, covering my body up. He bit his lip, not taking his eyes off.

“Let me hop in witchu’.” He looked at me with low eyes. I had to look away.

“No, because I was just about to get out goodbye.”

“Come on, I’m tryna get this weed smell off me.”

“You can, just give me like two minutes.” I slid the door back and started to rinse the soap off of my body.

Not even 10 seconds later, Jaylen had stripped out of his clothes and got in behind me. “What did I tell you?” I spoke, turning around so that he wouldn’t look at my ass.

“Huh?”

“I’m bout to get out.”

“What? Nah, I need ya assistance.” I scrunched up my face.

“For what?”

“Remember when ya ex nigga shot me? Yea I can’t shower properly by myself now.” I busted out laughing, because this dude made no sense right now.

“Man yo ass so fucking fat. You better make sure you hold that soap tight real talk.”

“Jaylen, I’m warning you right now... if you get my hair wet, I will kill you.” I had just gotten my hair done 2 days ago, and it was still looking fresh. I couldn’t find anything to cover my head with so I had to just pin my hair up.

“Ain’t nobody gone mess up ya hair, be quiet.” He switched spots with me as he was now in the front while I just watched him bathe. This nigga did not need my “assistance”. He seemed perfectly fine to me.

My eyes traveled from his hair, all the way down to his back dimples that were deep as hell. I forgot he had these. Smiling, I poked both of them with my fingers as he quickly turned the other way.

“Man if you on that gay shit, ion need ya assistance nomo’. Can’t wash my ass in peace.” He sucked his teeth.

“Boy shut up.” I muffed his head and in the blink of an eye, he had picked me up and slammed me down on his dick. A gasp instantly left my mouth. I looked into his eyes as he opened his and stared into mine. “You want me to take it out?” Man I hated Jaylen, I swear. I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted right now.

He sat down on the bench that was built in the shower, and pulled me in front of him.

Once I was on his lap, he threw my legs over his shoulder and was now face to face with my pussy. Sticking his tongue inside of my opening, he sucked on my clit before sliding his long juicy substance up and down my slit. Sliding his fingers inside of me, he already had me shaking. I haven’t felt this in a while, and it was amazing. “Right there, don’t stop.” I moaned in pleasure as I threw my head back, pulling on his curls.

Sucking as if his life depended on it,

He left one of my legs up over his shoulder and sat me back down on his dick. Grinding my hips in circular motions, he showed both of my breasts love with his tongue.

My thighs viciously slapped against his skin as he thrusted upwards, picking up the pace.

Holding on to my hips, he slammed my body down over and over, making my eyes roll back. All you could hear was smacking noises. “Who pussy is this?” He questioned, gripping my ass in his hands.

“Yours baby.” I moaned as I started to bounce uncontrollably. A moan left from his mouth, as I squeezed my walls. “Stop doin’ that shit.” He said out of breath, as he stood up and started pounding my shit. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuckkk Jay, I-I’m cumming!” I moaned loudly in his ear, holding onto him before cumming all over his dick. My legs shook viciously as I felt his dick swell up inside of me.

“Cum in me baby..” I purred in his ear. His strokes got slower as he started to suck all over my neck. Once he reached my spot, I couldn’t help but moan and that sent him over the edge. I then felt his warm liquid shoot inside of me as he grunted loudly.

Once he was done, we both looked at each other before I crashed my lips into his. Our simple kiss turned into a full blown make out session, until I pulled away because I realized that my hair was soaked.

“You gotta square up.”

Few Days Later..

“What's the word for today, Jay?" Dell asked before taking a huge bite from his burger. We all stopped picking at our meals for a second so all eyes could be on Jaylen. He's been super giddy about planning something for today but hasn't discussed his agenda with us. I'm guessing that he wanted to plan something lit since our two best friends were back in town for a little bit.

"Nothin' too crazy, just a cool lil' exclusive kickback at my crib. We should be celebratin' life and lately I just feel like it's always some shit preventing us from being great." Jay explained and I nodded. I loved when he got all deep and serious because ya'll know that it's only on rare occasions. I smirked and watched him intently.

"Whatchu mean?" Winter asked, taking a sip from her coffee milkshake. Since Jaylen woke our asses up so early in the damn morning with no plans, and neither one of us were in the mood to cook brunch, we stopped by Shake Shack and decided to eat outside. The weather was fuckin' beautiful today.

"I mean I'm finally settled in the new crib. Jayla and my Pop are good financially. Odell finally back to knocking niggas out on the field after his injury, bringing the Giants to a good view of the Superbowl. Even you, my nigga, you overcomin' your sickness more and more everyday, that shit ain't gon' consume you, sis. Only if you let it." I smiled at how far they came, they used to hate one another's guts. I'm talking fist fights and all.

"Can't forget about Queen Rob over there; glowing, beautiful as fuck, carrying another Waters warrior. Last name about to be Waters if she keep fuckin' around leaving the house all succulent." I blushed and continued to eat my french fries.

“Nah but, life fucked all of us up one way or another, I just wanna spend today with the people I love, doing fun shit. Like a little house warming at my crib." We nodded and and told him that we were down.

"Aight. After we done here, we gotta hit up a few stores and get everything we need. We could grill, smoke, get in the pool with some cool music, and put life on fuckin' pause for a second."

“I love it, babe." I smiled and he leaned over the table to meet me for a kiss.

It's been a while since the whole situation with him and Jasmine blew over, so I finally decided to think us through, and I realized that time was healing us beautifully. I am so in love with this man, he's so much more mature, he thinks briefly before speaking now, and he's all about me and family. What I've been asking God for from the minute I left New York for Memphis. I promised myself that I wouldn't give Jaylen my whole heart 100% until I saw effort, and now? I'm finally feeling the love.

"Ya'll are gross, leaning all into the damn food." Winter complained and I blushed, apologizing lowly.

“Shut up, hater." Jaylen threw a french fry at her and it landed directly into her tank top. We all busted out laughing in our own little moment, barely realizing the two girls walking out of the restaraunt with their bags of food. Something about the prettier one was so familiar but I couldn't make it out until Winter's loud and blunt ass called it out.

"Ain't that the bitch!?" I palmed my face and sunk into my chair. Weren't we just talking about how beautiful life was? Sighing, I sipped from Jaylen's drink and waited for the drama to erupt. My swollen and pregnant ass was too drawn for the bullshit.

"Excuse me?- Oh my god! Jaylen, baby!" she exclaimed and rushed over to him, I stood up and sat on Jaylen's lap before she could approach him. Baby my ass! His hands immediately began to caress my growing stomach. "What's good, Jasmine?" he asked dryly, placing soft kisses on my neck with his eyes still on her.

"It's been a long ass time since we spoke! I just missed you, and I know you missed me too." she said seductively. Winter clutched the closest butterknife she could find and burned a hole through the side of her face. I sighed and tried to get up but Jay held me down.

“You pregnant, I ain't lettin' you touch her and put yourself in danger. You hear me?" he whispered against my neck and his words sent a chill down my spine. I nodded and he tapped my thighs so I could get up. I got off of his lap so he could stand and face his past.

"Yo, we on a tight schedule and we got hella shit to do. Why you grillin' me and my fam for?" he asked through a clenched jaw. I held his hand and traced his tattoos to keep calm. I was livid and I didn't wanna stress myself or the baby out.

Dell gave me a look that told me to relax and I tried but nothing angered me more than Jaylen's exes. They were all batshit crazy. That’s what he gets for just giving his dick away to any and everybody.

"I have something to show you!" she smiled brightly and pulled her phone out.

"Look look look." See what I meant? The rehab center ain't do this hoe too good, she was acting like she was off the shits. Smiling and giggling in front of someone who hated you for killing their babies. Woooo chile, the insanity.

He peered at her phone and snatched it out of her hands. His eyes got glossy and his grip on my hand grew tighter. "Baby?" he looked down at me and showed me her phone. It was her fuckin' ultrasound, showing the growth of the twins before she aborted them. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. "Look Jasmine, please just go." I pleaded for the sake of Winter's freedom. She was ready to snap both of these bitches into multiple pieces. "I just want him to have a copy of them."

What kinda shi-

“Fuck yo copy! I could've had them in my arms! Fuck is you talkin' about!?" Jaylen yelled and I slowly pulled him away from her.

"Relax, Jay."

“I wasn't ready! I told you that!"

“We quotin' Kevin Hart now, bitch? I wasn't ready either but everybody who know me know I love kids. I could've provided for them and been in they life heavy if you ain't take matters into yo own hands."

“Fuck that talkin' shit, we all know you bitch out of real situations when they come at you, and all you think about is yourself. You probably gon' be a deadbeat to this bastard too," she pointed at my stomach and before any one of us could stop him, Jaylen hurled her phone at her face and got in her grabbed her by the neck.

"Don't you ever disrespect my fuckin' kid again, slime. You raggedy bitch, I got homegirls for bitches like you."

“And I got my brother Izzy and my man Rocky for faggots like you! They like pretty bitches and Rob is gorgeous as fuck." I stepped back and Jaylen looked at me and gave me an assuring look. "You safe wit' me." he whispered and I nodded.

"Fuck you want from me, bro?" he yelled, loosening his grip around her throat. "I wanna fight this bitch and get you back."

"Dick off limits, try again." she lunged towards me and tried to swing, I swung seconds before her like my instincts warned me to, and I caught her in the eye over Jaylen's shoulder.

Dell grabbed me and pushed me behind him gently and quickly so she couldn't get to me, while the two crazy ass wild cards, Jaylen and Winter went to fuck Jasmine up. "BITCH, YOU CRAZY?" Win yelled and threw a combination of punches to her and her friend while Jaylen held them down.

I laid my head against Odell's back and sighed. When is this shit gunna be over?

***

After the altercation at Shake Shack, I crawled into bed while Jay, Winter, and Odell set up for the kickback. I cried myself to sleep and woke up to cry again. It could be the hormones or the fact that Jaylen's past keeps creeping up to blindside us, or both. Either way, I was just so tired!

"Baby?" Jaylen asked as he crept into the bedroom. I threw his comforter over my head and shook my head. "Please not now." I whispered as tears streamed down my cheeks. Thank God he couldn't see me.

“Aight. I got a plate for you down here when you ready." he began to leave and I sat up.

“Jaylen." he looked back at me and sighed, making his way back over to me.

"Why you cryin'?"

“That's all I've been doing since I met you, when will it end?" he shrugged.

"I be tryin'. It's like issa signal on me whenever I'm happy and these bitches just rush to find me like Kim Possible." I smirked and sucked my teeth. "You're so stupid."

"I'll be that." he laughed and got under the covers with me. “She shitted on my whole mood."

“Fuck her. She gon' be talkin' like 50 Cent after Winter put paws on her and her friend."

“Jaylen!" I busted out laughing and he caught me off guard with a kiss.

“I swear I ain't about nobody but you. I put that on Jamie Waters."

“Don't swear on your mother, Jay."

"That's how you know I'm dead ass. I almost killed shawty for talking ill on you and my baby, I promise it'll all disappear one day." I kissed him and laid on his chest.

“God, I hope so."

"Come eat and listen to your favorite Spotify playlist. I promised a day of good vibes and that's what we gon' make it."

“Jay..”

“Wassup?”

“You fucked her a few days ago?” After Winter beat her ass, she kept yelling about how her and Jay had sex a few days ago and it hasn’t left my mind since.

“Rob, I’m tryna have a good day.” I didn’t say anything, I continued to stare at him.

“Yes Robyn, if that’s what you wanna hear.”

“You know that’s not what I wanna hear!”

“So why you asking shit you already know the answer to?!” He spazzed.

I chuckled bitterly and grabbed my shit so I could leave. Together or not, this nigga been in my ear for the last couple of days about how he was ready for our family.

Fuck anything that comes outta his mouth at this point.

18 notes · View notes

fdhfjdafdajfa · 6 years

Text

PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST: I need to raise money for myself and a friend, both currently homeless.

THE SHORT VERSION:

-I am in India without access to my money due to a pickpocketing and bank-related technicalities.

-I am without housing due to repeated, egregious, explicit discrimination. This has depleted most of my funds and I relocated to Calcutta due to air quality, low cost of living, and beef.

-At the same time, a close friend and her partner (located in Delhi and Paris, respectively) have brought to my attention a friend of theirs who is literally being physically restrained in an abusive marriage. We are talking black eyes and bruises. It's a horrific situation but I need her also because she speaks Bengali. So the house hunting process is stalled until she escapes.

-I am staying at an airbnb very close to her place. Even after we manage to get her physically removed there'a more stuff we have to do like filing a police report etc. The airbnb is expensive by Calcutta standards, but it's cheaper than rent anywhere I've lived in the USA.

-I need money for two reasons: to pay the deposit on our flat, and to keep me alive until I can sort things out with the bank, which may not be possible until after I move into a permanent place.

THE SHORTER VERSION:

-Idiot foreigner and victim of ongoing battering need rescue funds so we don't die.

PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THIS

Paypal here.

https://www.paypal.me/pcoolpearl

Further details under cut.

ON THE PICKPOCKETING AND BANK ISSUES:

-I was pickpocketed in the market about two months ago. That's life. It happens. Welcome to India. Some idiot got like 200 rupees so that's great for them but I had to cancel all my bank cards. Not really much I could do. I just got home and realised my wallet wasn't there anymore.

-Delhi does not have a functional mailing system at all. This means that the banks were more or less at a loss for how to get the cards at me. This is part of why I relocated to Calcutta. That's Bank Account A. The easy one, but also the far smaller one.

-But as for the larger and more consequential Bank Account B, which contains easily enough money for me to live off of in Calcutta for quite some time, they do not have any kind of policy for what to do in the event that someone ever manages to escape the land of the free and the home of the brave. This is the one tied to my social security payments, and is where all my money lives.

-So when I called Social Security they did that thing they do where they try to play gotcha with inconsistencies in your story. In my case I had already tried to get a replacement card weeks earlier, for reasons unrelated. "If it didn't get there weeks ago, wouldn't you have called weeks ago?" "What the fuck? No, I didn't solve any of the problems so why would I have called again and wasted my fucking time on this fucking phone line for no reason, again?" This was after a good 15 mins or so of this kind of grilling, which I find especially grating now after almost a year of living in countries where nobody can lie for shit and so there'a no point in every single fucking person pretending they're a TV detective whose purpose in life is to stop Moriarty from abusing welfare benefits. "If you're going to raise your voice at me, what I'm going to do is I'm going to place a security hold on your account and you'll need to verify your identity." Let me reiterate that she stated explicitly that this was in retaliation for raising my voice and not due to any real suspicion about my identity. In later calls to Social Security it would be revealed that she could

have easily seen on her computer that the card never got to me. That is information very easily verifiable by the World's Greatest Goddamn Detective over there.

-So the next person I called sent me on a wild goose chase to the American Embassy to pick up a form called a Memorandum of Understanding. Judging that the very limited funds I'd had stockpiled in my dresser was not best spent on an auto ride, I walked nearly an hour from the metro station to the embassy. There was a dust storm in this period and I read later that over a hundred people fucking died in it, but I just kept walking towards it because that's where the embassy was. Also I'd never seen a dust storm in my life and had no idea what it was or why the sky was pink.

-When I got there they told me straight up that 1. they don't do mail pickup, which is why the card hadn't gotten to me, and 2. they don't do memorandums of understanding. They offered to send me a different form for 50 USD. "Can't you borrow it?" they asked. "That's not a reasonable thing to say to someone who lives in India," I said straight up. "That's not a real amount of money that people in India have." That's American for "fuck off". So they wrote me a different letter in an attempt to verify my identity. I send this in with my only other forms of identification: my passport and an expired driver's license from Washington state. Waited 3 business days as instructed.

-They told me they can't use these because of issues relating to my legal name change a couple years ago. Social Security had not been updated as regards the change. "I have my birth certificate and my court certification for the name change, and I can fax those in."

-"What you'll have to do is go to you social security office in person--" "Look, I'm gonna cut you off there. You can see my current address right? Read that off to me. What city is that in." "New Delhi." "That's right, New Delhi. What country is that in? Great. So can, can you tell me where my local Social Security office is here in India?" She could not tell me where my local social security office was in India. There aren't any. That's why she couldn't tell me that. But again, no protocol for this situation and if an American bureaucrat breaks their protocol I'm 90% sure Obama's legally allowed to kill them.

-What I'll need to do is a complicated process involving appointing Americans to act as proxies to go in and file paperwork on my behalf. There are other ideas, but none of them are more sure or less complicated, and they all require me to have a permanent address.

ON WHY I DO NOT HAVE A PERMANENT ADDRESS:

-Those close to me know that I have had a hell of a time finding housing in India. It's not all that bad for an Indian to find housing and when my Indian friends have tried they've consistently been able to find me something in a few hours. But that something is living alone. Which 1. is depressing and 2. is tactically disadvantageous when you don't speak the language of a country because how you will tell the food panda guy where to go...

-So I moved in with an Indian girl who seemed nice enough, and her sister who seemed if anything even nicer. This was about a week before I was pickpocketed as described above.

-In India there's this big thing about vegetarianism where it's a highly important in determining one's role in caste hierarchy. Unfortunately for me I do not give a shit and think the caste system is dumb and scrambled myself some eggs. The disgust my caste Hindu roommates displayed towards me from that point on was palpable. Within another week they were asking me to leave. They got the landlord on their side fairly easily because that's how the caste system works and I was given less than a week to vacate. (To my knowledge there is no law like in USA saying they can't do that.) (Also if you're going to try to argue with me about how caste works shut up, I don't care, not the time.)

-The next day I would eat a straight-up poisoned "cheeseburger" and be sick for the following two weeks.

-Regardless of this I managed to miraculously line up a living arrangement with a Muslim roommate who expressed her approval of my award-winning omelettes and stated a willingness to go with me on beef crawls. (It's technically illegal in Delhi but if you know where to get it you can.)

-But it took about two weeks for the landlord to run my papers. I'm not sure why. Previous landlords had it done in 20 minutes. Most of my information about the landlord comes from this roommate, who is not a reliable narrator for reasons which will be explored shortly.

-During this period of 2 weeks, I, with alarming competence, managed to collect money from various friends and places to pay the deposit. I left my boxes of things at the old apartment and couch surfed around Delhi for like a week and a half while this was pending.

-To be honest I don't know what the fuck this roommate's problem was. She was just not a good person. She'd previously agreed to help me cash the contents of my paypal account through having it transferred to her bank, but now she was saying that if she stepped outside even for a second in this heat due to fasting.

-"Then you should not be fasting," I said, matter-of-factly. Look. Islamic law is my literal, actual field of study. You can't really pull one over on me as regards it. This is the ruling accepted by everyone who's not a goddamn lunatic. She didn't buy it though. Because she was lying. The next day she went to her cousin's house and somehow managed not to perish in the heat. Also, she'd previously explained to me how you can call the bankers to your house in India and do work that way. Then she tells me I am paying rent for the entire month despite moving in on like the 20th. "That's how it works everywhere in India," she told me. Wrong again, because this was literally the fifth house I'd moved into and none of them were like that.

-I now believe that this was something she made up on the spot because everything she would say for the remainder of our relationship would be.

-At this point my sense of stranger danger is going fucking haywire and I know I don't want to live with this person. I announce that I will leave in a matter of days. This was a GOOD decision.

-Citing "feeling unsafe" because I had raised my voice in an earlier argument, she invited her brother's sister-in-law(?) basically to troll me on etiquette because "people do not yell in India" which I actually laughed at because, not to claim expertise in a foreign culture, but ya-huh. "Not us," she clarified, "we are women from good families." Ah. A gender and caste thing. "What do you mean good families? My dad's in jail," I said, a statement about 20% likely to be true; I don't fucking know. I'd already agreed to vacate anyway. Anyway then she looked at me like I stabbed a cat in front of her.

-For the record, I didn't stab anything. But that night my roommate (Abaa) would invite her ex-boyfriend to stay the night. The next day he'd investigate a few of the claims Abaa had made.

-"Don't you agree this is a little threatening? Throwing boxes at her..." "What?" I asked. "Throwing boxes?" "She said you threw that box at her," he said, pointing to a container made of thin tin or aluminum which had been full of popcorn when I bought it. The tin drum was sitting on my desk, undented, full of medications and things. "I didn't do that," I said, truthfully. "She also said you grabbed a kitchen knife and tried to stab her." "What? And you believe this?" "She is my friend. I have to believe her." God bless this guy but he was not regarding me as one would regard someone who had just tried to STAB a friend of his. Also the kitchen knives sucked and would not have been practical stabbing implements; if I were going to attack someone surely the better choice would be the brass punchers I carry on my person at all times.

-She also called the police on me twice. I don't know what she was claiming, it was never explained to me. But both times they basically told her to chill, this isn't an ethno-state.

-Even on the way to the train station to Calcutta she's calling my cab driver trying to get him to turn around so she can yell at me over misplacing the key to the apartment. She texts me this:

In her defence, I had accidentally taken the key, but still, not done, man. She blocked me after saying that so I couldn't arrange a way to get the key back. I guess she wasn't from such a great family after all.

TO CALCUTTA:

-Rent in Calcutta is about a quarter as expensive as in Delhi. Also, Delhi is kind of an overcrowded polluted place where people go to be slaves to capital and die of smoke inhalation and indigestion. The "cheeseburger" gave me my worst case but I pretty much never didn't have indigestion there. Also it's like 45 degrees every day with an Air Quality Index of like 350. So I felt pretty good about going to Calcutta where beef is legal and there's an active art scene and I have almost as many friends as in Delhi and AQI rarely tops 50 and everybody's a communist.

-On the train ride over, a very close friend and her boyfriend (who live in Delhi and Paris, respectively) alert me to a friend of theirs who is in a physically abusive marriage. She needs help escaping. After that, the two of us should get a flat together. They think it'll be good for her to live with me because I'm an abuse survivor who is strong and independent and has experience in DV counseling. Truthfully, they're right. And I didn't stop needing an Indian roommate or anything. So I enthusiastically agree.

-The place that had agreed to host me for my first stretch in Calcutta until I get a permanent place has two complications. One, to get to where my new roommate lives, I need to pay 500 rupees for a 1 hour uber ride, or I can ride the train for 3 hours. Secondly, and perhaps more pressingly, the family I was staying with were forced to vacate because the father's debtors had threatened to kidnap his daughter.

-So I get an airbnb about a block from where my new roommate lives so that she can head over easily when she gets the chance. That is where I am now. It's a little over ₹600 a night. I'm pretty much stuck here until she manages to escape and we manage to get a place, although I have other people working on it as well. Frankly this suits me fine. I'm tired. I've had basically no downtime in like two months. The food here'a fucking fantastic. If I can spend a few days just stuffing my face with ₹40 beef biryani and momos and gain back the weight I lost by having indigestion for six straight months then fuck me up.

Compounding issues is the fact that my computer broke. Fortunately it's under warranty but I had to type this on an mp3 player and it took two hours good night.

ON MONEY:

I need some. If I raise €50, I'll be fine. If I raise €100, I'll be comfortable. Assuming the Apple store doesn't blindside me tomorrow. I'm really hoping for €60 or more.

PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST

PAYPAL HERE

https://www.paypal.me/pcoolpearl

#ramadan #laylat al qadr #zakat #sadaqah #signal boost

40 notes · View notes

buoyantsaturn · 6 years

Text

Still Sane (1/1)

summary: “Nico di Angelo.” Will’s hand slipped on the thread between his fingers and he nearly stabbed the needle he held into Sherman’s calf. “I saw him this morning, and he looks so different, but like, in a good way. A really good way. He almost looks like a different person--”

word count: 6272

read it on ao3

Will was halfway through stitching up a nasty gash on Sherman’s leg when he overheard part of a conversation from a few beds over.

“Did you hear who finally came back?” a daughter of Demeter said to a daughter of Hermes.

“No, who?” the other replied.

“Nico di Angelo.” Will’s hand slipped on the thread between his fingers and he nearly stabbed the needle he held into Sherman’s calf. “I saw him this morning, and he looks so different, but like, in a good way. A really good way. He almost looks like a different person--”

“Hey, Austin,” Will called out, and waited until his brother was standing beside him before he spoke again. “Can you take over for me here?”

“What? Why? I’m in the middle of taking stock,” Austin responded.

“I, uh,” Will stuttered, struggling to find an excuse. “I gotta take a leak.”

Austin rolled his eyes, but stepped closer to take the sutures out of Will’s hands. “Alright, fine, but hurry back.”

“Thanks, man!” Will exclaimed, bouncing out of his seat and running toward the exterior door.

“The bathroom’s the other way,” Austin called after him, but Will was already gone.

Will hurried toward the cabins, walking as fast as he could without full-out running and alerting anyone to his presence. His eyes locked on the Hades cabin where he figured Nico would be - hiding from the other campers and pretending he was resting, just like he’d done before he left - but before Will had even made it past the Ares cabin, he heard someone say, “He and Jason started sparring so everybody had to leave the arena, you know, ‘cause of that rule Chiron made that nobody can be in the arena when two Big Three kids are fighting, since it’s so dangerous, or whatever.”

Will hesitated on his next step, the toe of his shoe catching on a divot in the ground, and he narrowly avoided falling flat on his face. He turned away from the cabins, heading toward the arena instead, wondering to himself, how did everyone find out that Nico was back before I did?

He cracked the door of the arena open when he got there, peeking in to see if Nico was truly inside, and he was met with a strong gust of wind that slammed the door shut on his face. Instead, he pressed his ear to the door and listened to the sound of clanging metal, which was shortly replaced by bubbling laughter, so Will pushed the door open once more.

Will felt like he was hit in the stomach by another strong gust, the air flying out of his lungs when his eyes landed on Nico. No longer was he some pale, scrawny little kid, but his skin was tan and the muscles in his arms and legs were well-defined. When Nico pulled Jason back onto his feet, Will noticed that Nico had grown, too, at least half a foot since the last time Will had seen him.

Once Will was certain that the two of them weren’t about to start another fight, he stepped further into the arena and waited for one of them to notice him. It didn’t take long before Jason was smiling at him and raising a hand in greeting, calling over, “Hey, Will, what’s up?”

Nico’s head spun toward him, and Will noticed for the first time that Nico’s hair was much shorter than he’d ever seen it - he could actually see the back of Nico’s neck for once, but his bangs were still long enough to brush against his eyebrows. Nico smiled at Will when he saw him, and Will felt his heart stutter.

“Hi,” Will said, and made his way toward them. “Uh, I heard that Nico was back, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t severely injured yet still avoiding treatment, like usual.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I’m actually fine for once, but thanks for the concern.”

“I wouldn’t have let him show off if he was hurt,” Jason told Will. “You should’ve seen him, Will, that year away really did him some good.”

“Would you stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Nico grumbled, crossing his arms.

Will shrugged as he said, “Don’t disappear for another year and maybe we will.” He winced internally after the words had left his mouth, realizing too late how his words might have come across.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Nico said, and smiled softly at Will.

Will felt like he’d been shocked, and he was sure he had the stupidest grin on his face. “Uh, if you want, you’re welcome to sit at the Apollo table for dinner tonight. Maybe you can tell me what you’ve been up to for the last year?” he said awkwardly, and remembered a second later that Jason was still standing next to them. “Oh! And, uh, Jason, you can sit with us too, if you don’t want to be alone at the Zeus table.”

Jason dropped his hand onto Will’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Thanks, Will, but I’m heading out soon. Pontifex business, and whatever.”

“Oh, alright. Well, don’t forget to stop by the infirmary for an emergency kit before you go,” Will told him. “Actually, while I’m thinking about it, I’m gonna go make sure there’s one ready for you right now.” He started taking a few steps backwards, but paused when he said to Nico, “I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

Nico nodded, and Will smiled before he turned around and left.

Jason draped an arm over Nico’s shoulders - he’d grown to the perfect height for Jason to do so, much to Nico’s displeasure - and said, “So, Will, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico muttered, shoving Jason away and crouching down to pick up his sword.

“Uh huh, sure you don’t,” Jason teased. “You can’t fool me, I could see the way you were looking at him.”

Nico sheathed his sword with more force than necessary, glaring down at the ground. “Leave it alone, Jason.”

“Alright, I get it,” Jason said. “You’re embarrassed about your crush, I’ll stop talking about it.”

“Really? Are you sure, because it certainly doesn’t sound like you’re done.”

“I promise, I’ll drop it,” Jason told him. “This is me, dropping it. Come on, let’s go talk to Chiron about you taking over my sword fighting classes until I get back.”

After their meeting with Chiron, Nico and Jason had parted ways - Jason heading to the Zeus cabin to finish packing and Nico to the Hades cabin to finish un packing (not that he had much to put away in the first place). Nico had accumulated a few things over the past year, nothing more than what he could fit in a single backpack, but he’d gained a few more changes of clothes and one of the pockets of his backpack was filled with pictures from the few times he’d visited New Rome.

He’d taken as much time as possible putting his things away, and happened to finish just a few minutes before the start of dinner. He made his way to the pavilion, lining up behind the Hermes cabin and trying to ignore the stares he could feel coming from all around him. He grabbed some food, gave up some for his father and Persephone and Hestia, and turned toward the tables - he distinctly noticed a few heads spinning back toward plates as he walked by, wishing he could grow smaller with every step.

Nico spotted Will sitting near the middle of the Apollo table and made his way over, setting down his plate down next to Will’s. As he sat, he heard a few campers directly behind him whispering, “Oh my gods, that’s Nico? Nico di Angelo? But he looks so different!” Nico huffed, picking up his fork and poking uninterestedly at the pile of mashed potatoes.

Will leaned into his shoulder slightly. “Hey, are you alright?”

Nico shrugged. “I dunno, I thought that maybe after being gone so long, people might...forget about me? Or stop being afraid of me. And I was hoping I would stop hearing people whisper about me all the time, but I guess that’s not gonna happen.”

Will frowned. “What do you mean, whispering about you? If you want, I can talk to Chiron--”

“No, don’t do that. It’s not that big of a deal,” Nico told him. “I don’t wanna make it a bigger problem than it already is.”

Will hesitated, unsure of if he wanted to ask his next question. “What are they saying?”

“He looks different,” Nico replied. “I didn’t think he would ever come back. Are you sure that’s Nico? It doesn’t look like him.”

“I’m sure you’re just hearing things out of context,” Will assured him, but Nico just shoved a big scoop of potatoes into his mouth, ending the conversation.

The usual chatter of the Apollo table continued on around them, Will and Nico jumping into the conversation whenever they could, and near the end of dinner, Piper squeezed onto the bench across from Nico.

“Hey, Neeks, long time no see,” she said. “How’ve you been? You ready for Capture the Flag tomorrow? All of my siblings are hoping to get you on our side this time.”

“Woah, hey,” Kayla jumped in, leaning forward to look around Will, pointing her spoon at Nico. “You’re always on our team, you can’t switch now that we just got you back!”

“What’s it matter who’s team I’m on?” Nico asked with a frown. “Shadow traveling is against the rules now, so it’s not like I’m any better than anybody else.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “It’s not all about your powers. Think about it, you’ve got until dinner tomorrow to decide, so really think about it, alright? And remember, my siblings are willing to do almost anything to get you on our team - they’re even willing to trade chores with you.”

Nico sighed. “Fine, I’ll think about it,” he replied, mostly to get her to drop the subject.

“Great!” Piper said, and got up from the table, returning to her own.

Almost every head at the Apollo table turned toward him as soon as Piper was gone, clearly expecting an explanation. “I’m not switching teams just to get out of doing the dishes a few times, have a little faith in me, guys.”

Before the start of the game, Team Apollo - with help from the Hermes, Ares, and Hephaestus cabins, plus a few assorted children of some minor gods - gathered around Zeus’s Fist to appoint positions. Jake Mason and a few of his siblings would guard the area West of the flag, and a handful of Hermes kids would take the East. The Ares cabin would lead the offensive charge across the creek with about half of the Apollo cabin, and the other half alongside most of the minor gods’ children would guard the flag.

“Nico, we’re putting you on the creek to take down anybody that tries to get across,” Austin said, and turned to address the crowd. “Who wants to partner up with Nico?”

A few girls throughout the group shot their hands into the air, calling out, “Ooh, I do! Pick me!”

Will could sense the discomfort practically radiating off of Nico as he stepped away from the attention, looking as though he was trying to shrink down until nobody could see him. Will stepped forward, partially blocking Nico from view, and said, “I’ll go with Nico.”

Austin rolled his eyes at his brother before nodding. “Great. Everyone else, you know what to do. For Apollo!”

The crowd called back, “For Apollo!” though the Ares cabin added on, “and Ares!” because they were still bitter about their recent loss.

“Take your positions!” Kayla ordered, and the group dispersed into the woods.

Nico and Will hurried toward the creek before the game-starting conch sounded. They heard a battle cry to the East, the Ares cabin never ones for subtlety during these games as they started their attack on Team Aphrodite.

From then, there wasn’t much to be seen or heard besides the occasional shout in the distance, so Nico and Will allowed themselves to relax a bit while they waited.

“So, uh, what’ve you been up to?” Will asked, and Nico raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, uh, where’ve you been? You know, for the last year. What were you doing?”

“Well,” Nico started, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the dirt. “Long story short, I was mostly running errands for my dad. I was trying to keep myself occupied to try to...I guess, trick my brain so I would stop having nightmares and flashbacks, and all that. I stopped by New Rome a few times, usually for errands, once for Hazel’s birthday.” He smiled softly to himself before continuing, “Reyna practically wrestled me into a barber’s chair the last time I was there. She said my hair was getting too long, so it all got cut off. Except for this, for some reason.” He looked up at his bangs, tugging at them with his fingers for a second.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with hair so short,” Will commented. “It’s, uh, it looks really good.”

Nico smiled at him. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” Will told him, taking a step closer to Nico. “You looked good with longer hair, too, but this is like, a good kind of different. A really good kind.”

Nico opened his mouth, about to say something else, but right at that moment a handful of Athena kids came charging at them from the opposite side of the creek.

Nico wasn’t entirely sure how to teach a sword fighting class - he’d never been a part of one before, considering he was taught by ghosts and reanimated skeletons - and the brief talk Jason had had with him before he left hadn’t given Nico very much confidence in teaching.

His first class that day was a beginner’s level, meaning everyone there was between eight and ten, so Nico figured that they wouldn’t know much, especially since it was close to the start of the summer still. He brought out the wooden practice swords for the kids to use, and laid them out before the young campers started to arrive.

Once there were about ten kids waiting on the bleachers, a girl that Nico didn’t recognize - not that he remembered a good portion of the people that came to camp now - who was definitely too old to be in the class, asked him, “Do you mind if I sit in the stands and watch? My little sister is in the class and I just want to know what she’s learning.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Nico answered. “Just, uh, stay on the bleachers while I’m teaching, I guess. Do you normally watch the class?”

“Oh, no,” she replied. “I’ve just gotten a sudden interest in sword fighting and thought I’d watch a beginner’s class to see if I wanna try it myself.”

“Okay, well, uh, I’m gonna get the class started,” Nico said, and turned away from her, feeling confused by the interaction. Why would someone want to watch a beginner’s class, instead of a more advanced class? That class would be far more interesting to watch, especially since Nico figured he would be sharing mostly fighting terms with the younger students that day.

He gave each kid a wooden practice sword and had them spread out on the arena floor, having them copy his movements as he called out the action he was doing. He shouted, “Advance!” and stepped forward, sword held ready to attack in front of him, and the students did the same. He shouted, “Pivot!” and spun on one foot until he’d turned halfway around and was facing the bleachers - for some reason, his one observer had suddenly grown into a group of about six campers, all about his age, all of whom were keeping a close eye on him and not on the kids. “Pivot to front!” Nico called out, trying not to be distracted by his growing audience, and spun back to face the rest of the class.

He was happy to see the end of class roll around, though he grew increasingly uneasy as he noticed that his audience had grown even larger throughout the duration of the class. He didn’t want to approach them once he’d dismissed his students, but he felt the need to confront them, at least to kick them out.

“Are you here for a class?” Nico asked the group as a whole.

“Nope,” one of them answered. “We just came to watch.”

Nico tensed, and was finally able to name the uncomfortable feeling he’d been having for the last hour: they were there to make fun of him. He was certain of it, why else would anyone sit on the sidelines and watch a sword fighting class?

“Okay, well, class is over,” he told them, crossing his arms and glaring in the direction of the door. “Time for everyone to leave.”

The group began to rise from the bleachers, preparing to leave, and someone said, “See you for the next class!”

Nico turned and walked out the back door of the arena, desperate to get away from the other campers. His ears started ringing and the tips of his fingers started to tingle, feeling as they had when they’d started disappearing after the battle against the Giants. His chest tightened around his pounding heart, and he struggled to take in his next breath. He leaned against the exterior wall of the arena, trying to regain control of his own body before he slipped away into a full panic attack.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and something wet pressed against his stomach, startling Nico back into his own head. His eyes opened, and before him was a giant mass of black fur that was sniffing at him excitedly.

“Mrs. O’Leary,” Nico said, and felt himself calming down until he could no longer feel his limbs vibrating. “Hey, girl, it’s been a while.”

The hellhound barked happily, causing Nico’s ears to start ringing for a whole different reason, and she jumped back, chin resting on her front paws while her tail wagged high in the air - she expected him to play with her.

“You don’t get much attention around here anymore, do you?” Nico asked her, and she whined softly, waiting for Nico to make a move. “Well, I don’t know where your toys are. Go get one.”

Mrs. O’Leary barked at him again before she spun around and ran to the nearest tree, ripping down a low-hanging branch and bringing it back to Nico. He grabbed the end of the branch with both hands and tugged, but Mrs. O’Leary didn’t loosen her hold.

“C’mon, drop it,” Nico said with a laugh, and so she did. The branch wasn’t so big that Nico couldn’t lift it, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to throw it very far, so he spun once like he was throwing a discus and sent the branch flying. Thankfully, Mrs. O’Leary didn’t immediately snatch it out of the air, and had to chase after it a bit before she could bring the branch back to him again.

She dropped the branch at his feet and suddenly licked at his face, her slobber soaking the front of his shirt and slicking back his hair as she knocked him onto his back. Nico tried to shove her away but she dropped a paw onto his chest and held him down while she licked him a few more times.

“Oh, gods, stop it!” Nico cried out, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “No, this is so gross!”

Mrs. O’Leary finally moved back, though one of her claws caught on his shirt and ripped through the fabric as well as cutting into his skin. It didn’t hurt much, but it was certainly deep enough that Nico felt like he should pop over to the infirmary to get it looked at.

The hellhound barked at him again, but Nico held up a hand to let her know that playtime was over. She whined again but picked up her branch and moved back into the shade of the arena, chewing away at the branch to occupy her time.

Thankfully, the arena wasn’t incredibly far from the infirmary, so Nico made it inside before the dog slobber had dried his shirt against his skin.

Will raised an eyebrow at him as soon as he saw Nico. “Hey, uh, what’s up?”

“Not much,” Nico replied, plopping down on an empty cot and pulling his shirt off over his head.

“Um, what are you doing?” Will asked, startled and confused by Nico’s unusual actions.

“I’ve got an injury,” Nico told him, twisting his torso until Will could see the bright red cut on his abdomen. “You fix those here, don’t you?”

Will rolled his eyes and pushed his feet against the floor, propelling his rolling chair across the room to Nico’s cot. “Alright, what happened?”

“I was playing with Mrs. O’Leary and she tackled me,” Nico told him, laying down on the bed. “I guess one of her claws got me. That’s also why I’m drenched in dog slobber, by the way.”

Will grabbed a cloth and wiped away the excess blood from Nico’s wound. “Oh, so that’s why your hair looks like that?”

“Like what?” Nico asked, and reached up to touch his hair, but recoiled immediately when he felt the sticky wetness of it. “Oh no, that’s disgusting.”

Will grabbed a clean cloth and poured some Nectar onto it before pressing that into the wound, allowing it to heal slightly before he gathered the supplies to stitch it up. “Well, yeah, you’ve got a head full of dog spit. It’s a good look, though. Maybe you should have Mrs. O’Leary style your hair more often.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re so funny. Quit making fun of me, I’ve had enough of that today.”

Will frowned, pausing before starting the first stitch. “What do you mean? Are people making fun of you?”

Nico hesitated. “I don’t know. I think so, but it’s not like they’re saying anything to my face.”

“What happened?”

Nico turned his head until he was staring at the empty cot beside him instead of at Will. “I was teaching a beginner’s class this morning, and a bunch of older campers - not like, older, but our age - came in to watch. I tried to pretend they weren’t there, but I kept hearing whispering, and more and more people kept showing up until class ended and I kicked everyone out of the arena. They said they’re gonna come back for the next class, too. I think...I’m gonna talk to Chiron after we’re done here and tell him what happened. Maybe he’ll get them to leave me alone.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” Will assured him, “but it’s all about what makes you comfortable. I bet they were just talking about how much they like your new haircut, but I can go with you to talk to Chiron, if you want.”

Nico glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. “Do you actually like the way my hair looks right now?”

“Yes, I already told you that,” Will said with a laugh. “But, whatever, don’t believe me. I’m almost done with the stitches, I’ve just gotta bandage you up, and then you can go wash the slobber out of your hair or whatever you’ve gotta do.”

Nico groaned and draped an arm over his eyes. “I’ve got another class to teach after lunch.”

“Hopefully it’ll be better,” Will said. “Sit up, and I’ll go get the bandages. And a spare shirt for you.”

Nico left the infirmary with bandages wrapped around his abdomen and he was wearing one of Will’s spare scrub shirts over them. He completely forgot about his plan to talk to Chiron, instead making his way toward the cabins and knocking on the Aphrodite cabin door. Thankfully, Piper was the one to answer, and Nico didn’t even give her a chance to offer a greeting before he said, “Do you have anything I can put in my hair to make it stick up like this all the time?”

Piper beamed and pulled Nico into the cabin.

A few weeks later, Nico brought a few different weapons from the weapons shed into the arena for his students to see the different options and try them out during class. He laid everything out before the kids started to arrive, followed by the usual crowd of teenagers that Nico had yet to have kicked out. They hadn’t been a huge distraction in the past few classes, but Nico always forgot to talk to Chiron about them afterwards, anyway.

He made sure that none of the kids touched the weapons unless he was keeping a close eye on them, but his audience had decided that today would be the day where they would be as big of a disruption as possible.

Nico managed to explain to his class the names and best uses of each of the types of swords and knives he’d laid out, and was about to let them take turns holding them, when one of the girls in the audience raised her hand and called out, “Hey, Nico, I have a question!”

Nico frowned as he turned to face the bleachers, and said, “Um, okay.”

“Which of those weapons is your favorite?” she asked.

“Well, uh, I guess the longsword,” he replied, “but I have my own sword, so I prefer that one.”

“Is your sword bigger?” another girl asked, and a handful of the people in the crowd laughed, causing Nico’s frown to deepen.

“No, it’s the same as the one I have here,” he said, gesturing to the longsword laid out among the rest of the weapons. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to teach a class here.”

“Can we come down there to get a closer look at the weapons?” one of the few boys in the crowd asked.

“Sure, fine, just don’t get in the way,” Nico said, and turned back to his class while his audience moved further down the bleachers until he could practically feel them breathing down his neck.

Nico continued on with his class, making sure each of the kids knew that the weapons in front of them were real and not toys, meaning that they could really hurt someone if they tried anything stupid, and when he felt sure that each of the kids understood, he allowed them to step forward and pick a weapon. “No fighting over them, either,” he said last. “You’ll each get a turn with every weapon you want to try, and fighting over them is just going to get people hurt.”

As Nico sat and watched the kids pick up some of the weapons and spread out to swing some of them around, he felt someone move closer to him.

“You sure know a lot about all these weapons,” one of the audience members commented, a girl that Nico was pretty sure was from the Aphrodite cabin. “You’re pretty smart for being so young. How old are you, anyway?”

Nico didn’t look at her while he spoke, keeping an eye out for each of the kids. “Uh. I’m sixteen. Almost. I think.”

“You think? That’s a pretty weird answer, shouldn’t you know how old you are?”

Nico ignored her, instead calling out to the class, “If you haven’t tried a different weapon yet, it’s time to switch.”

The girl next to him tried to say something else, but Nico noticed one of his students struggling with the sword in her hand, so he got up and went over to help. He helped the girl - a daughter of Hebe, if he remembered correctly - adjust her grip on the sword, and walked her through a parry and thrust until she felt more comfortable with the weapon in her hand.

He stepped away, walking around the room to examine the way the rest of his students were handling their weapons, stopping to help kids here and there until he announced that they should trade weapons again.

Nico was in the middle of helping a boy with a particularly heavy sword, when one of his audience members called out, “Hey, Nico!”

His head shot up, allowing himself to be distracted by what was no doubt going to be a stupid question of some kind, but before the question came, he heard a shout like a battle cry coming from behind him. He spun around to see a boy wielding a dagger running toward him.

Realistically, Nico should have been able to stop the boy, no problem. He could have side-stepped or dodged the attack in some way, but his tortured mind had chosen that moment to paralyze him, to have him see one of the giant, humanoid-creatures he’d faced on one of his father’s errands charging toward him. At the last second, all Nico could do was raise an arm to prevent the knife from stabbing him somewhere important.

When he finally realized what had happened, his arm had already bled until there was a noticeable puddle of blood on the ground, and the room around him was silent. He looked down at the boy that had injured him, staring up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes as he dropped his dagger into the puddle of blood.

“I’m sorry!” the boy wailed between sobs. “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!”

It took Nico another moment before he could get his voice to work, and he reached down to pat the boy on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I mean, that really wasn’t okay, but I’m fine, it’s just a little cut. Now you know why you can’t mess around with weapons, got it?”

“Oh my gods, Nico!” a group of teenage girls cried from across the arena before running over to him.

“You’ve gotta get to the infirmary immediately!” one of them told him, grabbing his uninjured arm and pulling him toward the door.

“What? No, I’m fine, I’ve got a class to teach,” Nico said, ripping his arm away. “I’ll go later.”

“No way!” another girl insisted. “Somebody else can watch all the kids. You need to get that looked at immediately!”

“I said I’m fine, I’ve had way worse--”

“Kyle, can you watch the class while we take Nico to the infirmary?” another girl called across the room, and one of the boys in the audience offered back a thumbs-up, so the group of girls surrounding Nico pushed and pulled him toward the door.

He was practically dragged into the infirmary, finally yanking his arms out of the girls’ deathgrips and marching straight up to Will. “Please make them leave,” he pleaded, and Will looked from the group of girls down to Nico’s bleeding arm.

“Did one of them do this?” Will asked, something like angry protectiveness seeping into his tone.

“No.” Nico frowned. “Sort of. I don’t know, just make them leave?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Will said. “Go sit down, I’ll be right back.”

As Nico made his way toward an empty cot, Will went over to the group of girls, letting them know that they needed to wait outside if they were so insistent on being nearby. Will came back after he was sure that the girls had left, and sat down next to Nico, lifting his arm to examine it.

“Tell me what happened,” Will said, gathering a few supplies to clean and stitch up the cut.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Nico shouted frustratedly up at the ceiling. “All these people won’t leave me alone, it’s like they’re watching my every move, just waiting for me to mess something up! For some reason, today, all those people that keep watching my beginner’s class started asking me a bunch of stupid questions and distracted me, and-- I had another godsdamn flashback or some shit and one of the kids stabbed me because I wasn’t able to pay attention to my own class for more than twenty seconds!”

“Nico,” Will said, cupping Nico’s cheek with one hand and forcing him to look him in the eyes. He knew that Will had some sort of ability to drain the tension out of people and get them to calm down, but Nico didn’t think he was using any powers on him to help him relax. That was just how Will made him feel. “It’s alright. I know how much this has been stressing you out, and on top of the flashbacks and nightmares, stress makes you forget things. Like telling an adult that there's an ongoing problem. If you’ll let me, I wanna tell Chiron that this is happening so that they’ll leave you alone. And if he doesn’t do anything, I’ll come to your next class and scare them off myself, okay?”

Nico sighed, and nodded. “Thank you, Will.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, and moved back to start cleaning Nico’s arm. “You know, I think they were just trying to get close to you to get to know you.”

“Why would anyone want to get to know me?” Nico asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Because they think you’re cute.”

Nico stared up at Will in complete and utter shock. “Why in Hades would they think I’m cute?”

“Because you’re cute, you idiot,” Will said, waiting to start stitching until Nico finally got it. “Wait, no, cute might not be the right word. You’re hot,Nico. You’re gorgeous. You’re-- Remember when you first came back and you said everyone was whispering about you? People whisper about hot people, because they would be embarrassed if the hot person heard them talking about their muscles or their new haircut or their nice ass. They’re not watching you to make fun of you, they’re watching you because they like looking at you, because you’re really nice to look at.” Nico’s face had grown bright red during Will’s monologue, and they were both very happy that the infirmary was empty so that nobody would be able to hear the conversation they were having.

Will dropped his gaze down to Nico’s arm, avoiding eye contact at all cost as he said, much softer now, “You’re getting all this attention from all these people - you’ve basically got your own fanclub of girls waiting for you outside - so why don’t you do something about it?”

Nico opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming unsure of what to say. “I don’t...like girls,” he said quietly, and when Will looked up at him, he saw that Nico was avoiding eye contact with him as well. “So. All that that you just said. That means that you see it to. You, um, you think I’m cute-- Or, not cute--”

“Yeah, I do,” Will cut in. “I thought you were cute a year ago too, if that makes this seem any more genuine. I wanted to ask you on a date before you left, but I didn’t know if you liked boys, and I was afraid of being rejected, so I never did. And then you kind of disappeared.”

“I liked you, too,” Nico told him, finally meeting his eyes again. “Last year. And I would’ve said yes. Well. I would’ve wanted to, but I might not have. I had a lot going on in my own head, and I think it was probably for the best that I left - I should’ve said goodbye, I realize that now - but I needed that time to figure out what was good for me and what wasn’t. I had to try to fix myself before I jumped into something that I didn’t know how to deal with - and by that, I mostly mean just being at camp in general, but I also mean. Uh. Relationships, I guess. And not just romantic ones, but even how to be friends with people that weren’t dead or afraid of me, and while I was away, I realized that, well. You’re what’s good for me. As a friend or otherwise. And that’s why I finally came back. You’re why.”

“Oh,” Will whispered. He wasn’t sure what else to say, so for a few moments they just stared at each other until Nico huffed and looked away.

“If you’re just gonna stare at me then stare at my arm while you’re stitching it up,” Nico told him. “Otherwise--”

“Do you wanna come with me to the campfire tonight?” Will blurted out.

Nico hesitated. “You really want to?”

“If my confession wasn’t clear enough, I can try again,” Will offered.

“No, it was clear,” Nico said, shifting until he was sitting up and he and Will were on the same level. He darted forward and pressed his lips to Will’s, just for a second, before pulling himself back. “Sorry.”

Will smiled. “Don’t be sorry. Is that a yes? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, I will,” Nico told him, and smiled back. “That was my first kiss.”

“You’re a natural.” Will kissed him, just another quick peck, before returning focus to Nico’s arm. “Now, lay back down so I can stitch this up.”

When they left the infirmary, the girls from the arena were still waiting outside on the grass. They all perked up when the door opened and they saw Nico step out, but deflated when they glimpsed his hand entwined with Will’s. Luckily for Nico, they didn’t bother showing up for his next class.

#mine #my writing #solangelo #my laptop is finally functioning again!!#except i got logged out of literally every website so thats unfortunate!!!

108 notes · View notes

5hfanfiction · 6 years

Text

Why Did I Get Married?

Part Eight: I’m Done

They say that it’s normal for every couple to fight and argue with each other, but what about if that’s what they always do? What if there’s no more conversing like normal human beings but rather, they’re at each other’s throats? And what if, you and your partner aren’t the only ones caught in the middle of it but also, your four year old daughter?

After the night that Izzy found both of her parents arguing, one would’ve thought that the couple would have tried for their daughter, but they didn’t. Their relationship only seemed to have gotten a lot worse. To the point that Lauren was having not only thoughts but she even spoke to her attorney about filing for a divorce and custody of Izzy.

“So, I need to ask Lauren…is there any chance of reconciliation?” Lauren’s attorney questioned as she flipped through the documents her client presented to her. It was only mandatory for her to ask that, instead of simply filing for the divorce.

Lauren sighed heavily and ran her hand through her hair messily. “I…don’t know, Normani. We’ve been going to therapy for a few weeks now and that doesn’t seem to be helping. Dr Briggs is very skilled, but I don’t think my wife was even trying. Now, all she does is try to pick a fight with me, and its affecting our daughter. I’m not just doing this for me…”

The woman nodded. “I understand, Lauren. But is this what Camila wants? Is this what the both of you want?”

Normani had known Lauren for quite a number of years; they met in her final year of college. She had never met Camila due to their both heavy workload, but from what she knew, the couple was to be envied. As an attorney, she was supposed to respect her client’s wishes, but as Lauren’s friend for many years, she couldn’t simply allow her friend to end her marriage and possibly ruin her life.

“Normani, I didn’t come here as your friend, I came here as a client. Please. I’m tired of the constant fighting, I’m tired of crying every single night, I’m tired of being the only one trying. I know at one point she wanted this marriage to work out, but all she manages to do now, is bring up what happened between Hailee and I,” she mumbled. Normani looked at her friend sympathetically. “I can’t put Izzy through this. I can’t hurt my daughter. I love, Camila with all my heart, but…” her voice started breaking. “But we’re breaking both our hearts by staying in a marriage that’s going nowhere.”

The woman’s attorney sighed. She had never seen her friend like this before. Their marriage had seemed strong, but no one really knows what goes on behind close doors. Not every smile someone portrays is genuine, not everyone means it when they say ‘I’ll never hurt you’ and sometimes it’s not always easy to forgive the ones you love.

“Okay, Lauren. I’ll have the documents ready for you before the ending of the week. I’ll call you and we’ll set up an appointment for the both of you to sign the papers. But Emilia’s custody will be a very long battle, that’s if Camila isn’t willing to give her up. However, you have the upper hand given that you’re the more stable parent for her,” Normani said as she skimmed through a document.

Lauren nodded. She hadn’t expected to ever find herself sitting in a lawyer’s office filing for a divorce, from the woman she was and still is so madly in love with. People may say that she cannot be in love with Camila if she had kissed another woman. Others may argue that she wasn’t in the right frame of mind when she did it and it was simply just a kiss.

But the problem lies deeper than that.

Lauren had always felt inferior to Camila. In high school, she was always the more popular one, meanwhile Lauren only had a close knit group of friends. So, with Camila being famous and having all these celebrities around her, there was also rumours swirling around that she was cheating on her wife with various celebrities. Many of her wife’s fans aka 'Minions’ had shipped her with Ariana, and Lauren had observed their relationship over the years and felt like something was going on between the two.

So yes, instead of being an adult and discussing her issues with her wife, she decided to get drunk out of her mind with Hailee; a woman Camila had trusted with her wife, and commit an act of infidelity. Which ultimately led to the deterioration of their marriage and the constant heartache not only the couple but their daughter had to experience.

Before Lauren could’ve responded, her phone rang. Normani shrugged allowing her friend to answer.

“Mami?”

“Hola, mija,” Clara Jauregui’s voice boomed through the phone. It had been quite sometime since Lauren had spoken or even seen her mother. “How are you?”

What sort of question was that? Lauren thought. She wasn’t okay. Her marriage was falling apart and she felt as thought she was losing her sensibility. So instead of telling her mother what was going on, she decided to go with the shorter response.

“I’m fine. How have you been? I’m sorry I haven’t called you in a while. Work has been really hectic,” it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Her photography business was quite successful, but she rarely ever did anything, unless the person requested for Lauren.

Clara didn’t respond for a few seconds, “I’ve been fine. I could’ve popped in like what your sister does, but I just want to let you know that I’ll be coming to spend some time with you this week. It’s been forever since I’ve seen my grand baby.”

The woman sighed heavily. This was the last thing she needed. Her mother had known about what had went down between Camila and her, but the last thing Lauren wanted to do was entertain her mother.

“For how long?”

“Oh no too long, just for a couple of day maybe,” Mrs Jauregui said mindlessly.

Truth be told, Maggie had been updating her mother on what was going on with the couple when she visited. When Lauren had told her that she will be visiting her attorney; she never did mention that she was filing for a divorce, but Maggie still informed her mother. Clara had been very supportive of her daughter’s relationship with the young singer. She had loved Camila dearly and took her under her wing.

Of course she had been disappointed in the way her daughter acted. Yes, it was just a kiss, but when the vow of marriage is taken, your partner should relinquish all the needs for someone else. Whether it was a drunk or sober action, it was still wrong. Depending on how you saw it.

Normani cleared her throat, signalling that they needed to finish their meeting.

“I um..that’s fine, mami. I’ll let Camila know. But I have to go now, I’ll see you soon,” Lauren tried to hurry up the conversation with her mother.

“That’s fine, mija. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Lauren slipped her phone into her jacket and addressed Normani. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just my mother.”

The attorney nodded. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to hurry you but I have another client coming in soon. So, I’ll have everything ready for you before the ending of the week, okay?”

Lauren took a deep breath and nodded. She couldn’t believe that she was going to go through with this. “Okay. You’ll just contact me, or my secretary, and I’ll come here as soon as I can.”

***

After she left her attorney’s office, Lauren didn’t head home just yet. She took a stroll around the park that was in close proximity to her home. She just needed to clear her head even if it was just for a moment. The thoughts that kept running through her head about the divorce were driving her crazy.

Did she really want to do this?

At times, yes she did. It seemed as though it would be a lot easier, because it was torture in the space between them.

Maybe there was nothing left to fight for. It felt as though it was too much. The pain, it was too much for her heart too bear.

You only win if you don’t give up.

Love is war and war is love.

She saw a couple a distance off from her and she sighed sadly. “Where did we go wrong?”

At times, Lauren felt as though it wasn’t just the kiss that had hurt Camila. Obviously it did, but she felt like there was something more to it. They never did sit down as a couple besides when they were forced to discuss it in therapy. But even then, it didn’t seem as though it was working.

What would Chelsea think when she got to find out that they weren’t going to come to therapy anymore?

As a marriage counsellor, yes, she couldn’t downright tell the couple to divorce or stay together, it was their decision to make. But she had been trying with the couple to help them resolve their issues and to improve their communication. However, it doesn’t seem as though it was working.

It’s painful to say goodbye to someone you don’t want to let go. But you know what’s more painful? Asking someone to stay when you know that more than anything they want to leave.

In Lauren’s mind, she thought that Camila wanted to leave her. Why would she stay? She had hurt her, she wasn’t nothing special. Yeah, she was a sort of celebrity and a big shot photographer, but compared to her wife, she was a nobody.

Realising that she had spent enough time moping, she decided to head home. Lauren wasn’t sure how she was going to tell Camila that she had filed for a divorce. She wasn’t asking for anything. Her wife could’ve had their penthouse in Los Angeles, she could’ve kept her car and all her money. She would’ve gotten to see Izzy whenever she was in town, but the heartache of being with Camila when nothing felt to be getting any better?

Yeah, she wanted that to stop.

When she pulled up in front of her home, there was an all too familiar car sitting in the driveway. Groaning loudly, she stepped out of her vehicle and locked it. You’re never too sure if someone would try to steal it.

From the moment she stepped into her home, she saw her wife sitting across from her mother; who had Izzy sitting in her lap. Clara had always loved her grandchild and spent as much time as she could’ve with her. But as time went by, the grandmother-granddaughter duo didn’t spend as much time together.

Everyone seemed to have been hurting poor Isabella. The night she stumbled upon her parents arguing, it took a lot of consoling to calm the child down, but the questions she kept asking her parents, well…she never got an answer. However, it seems as though she’ll be getting her answer soon.

“Mami,” Lauren greeted her mother. “What are you doing here?”

Her mother scoffed fondly as her daughter gave her a hug. “I told you I was coming to visit, mija. Why are you acting so shocked?”

“I didn’t think you meant so soon. I didn’t even tell Camila.”

The brunette shrugged at the mention of her name. “I don’t mind Clara spending some time with us. Izzy is rather happy that her abuelita is here. Aren’t you baby?”

Izzy nodded furiously. “Yes! I’m really happy that, abuelita is here. I missed her so much. Can I show you my room? We painted it pink!”

Pink. What an ugly colour.

Clara obviously couldn’t resist her granddaughter’s request so she headed upstairs to see her room.

“Camila…” Lauren said softly. “We need to talk.”

How was Lauren going to break this news to her wife? Would it be easier if she told her now? Did she buy a cake that had 'We’re no longer married, so feel free to hoe!’ scrawled across it.

She didn’t know what to do anymore. But what she did know was that even though she thought she wanted to divorce her wife, at the same time she wanted more than anything to try to work things out with her wife.

“Talk about what?”

The photographer ran her hand through her hair and opened her mouth, but no words seemed to come out. “I um….we’ll talk about this later I guess. It’s really not that important.”

Camila furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. “No. Tell me what it is.” She scooted off the chair and stood up facing her wife, with some distance between them.

Lauren’s heart began pounding against her ribcage, her breathing became shallow, if she didn’t know better, she would’ve assumed she was going to have a heart attack.

The brunette approached her wife but Lauren stepped back. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her, telling her not to say anything, to call the divorce off, but she couldn’t. She knew that Camila deserved better and she knew that 'better’ wasn’t her.

“I’m filing for a divorce and sole custody of Izzy.”

And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the moment some of you were waiting for, the moment some of you dreaded and then the moment some of you knew was going to happen, just not so soon.

Camila felt her world instantly collapse. See, it was like she was riding a bicycle, but then the steering handle fell off and she didn’t know what direction the bicycle was headed.

Who was she going to be now? How was she going to live this life without her soulmate?

This was the same woman who didn’t want to end their marriage, she was the same woman who begged her wife to go to couple’s therapy because she couldn’t see a life without her. But now? Everything had changed. A part of Camila knew that Lauren would’ve only endured so much, because she wasn’t listening to Dr Briggs’ advice. She had tried but then everything came rushing back, all the hurt feelings and the constant crying, it came back and it had hurt her even more than it did the first time she had caught the duo.

Camila’s throat went dry. She blinked and stared at her wife in disbelief. She wasn’t sure what she heard was correct. Did her wife really say that she wanted a divorce?

“You want what…you’re filing for what?” She stuttered out, her brain wasn’t allowing her to form coherent sentences.

Lauren’s eyes started to glaze over. “Please…please don’t make me repeat it,” she shut her eyes tightly and when she reopened them, she saw the tears that were flowing out of Camila’s. “Camz…you need to understand, that this is hard for me to do. But it’s the better option. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what, Lauren? Doing what?” Camila whispered out. She had her arms wrapped protectively around her torso, trying to protect herself from the words that Lauren had said and would say. “Didn’t you…didn’t you want to work this out?”

“I did. I really did, Camila. But you…you didn’t…you didn’t seem as though you wanted to. Whenever we made one step forward, you took 10 steps back and pulled me along with you,” Lauren’s own voice was breaking. “How can we keep doing that? How can we keep breaking each other’s hearts?”

Camila shook her head 'no’. “That’s not true, Lauren. I wanted to. I really wanted to but…but it hurts,” the tears were flowing and she had no idea when they planned on stopping. “Every time…every single time I see you…I see that moment…and I…I feel the same pain in my heart when I saw the two of you.”

Lauren reached out for her wife, but it was her turn to back away. “Camz…”

Camila pulled up her sleeve and showed Lauren the bracelet she got for Christmas from her. “Do you see that infinity sign?” Her wife nodded. “I want that with you. But I know you feel like this is pointless. You think…you think I don’t want this. I do. I want you. You made a mistake. But why can’t I accept that? Why do I still think that it wasn’t just a mistake? Because the Lauren I knew, she wouldn’t hurt me like that. Why did you hurt me?”

Lauren scoffed through her own tears. “Do you really think my dumb mistake isn’t hurting me too?! I’m losing my wife! Hell, I must’ve lost my wife a long time ago!” She took Camila’s face in her hands. “I love you. I love you so goddamn much. Isn’t that as clear as the day?”

The brunette placed her hands over Lauren’s and moved them away. “I love you too, Amor…but I don’t feel it anymore.”

“We could only burn so long, Camz,” Lauren whispered. “I don’t know what happened for us to reach like this.” Camila shook her head but the green eyes she loved so dearly were filled with tears, so she didn’t say anything. “I should know by now, you should know by now we should know by now, Amor. Something’s gotta give, something’s gotta break.”

“And you broke me. You broke me beyond repair. I gave you a part of me I never wanted anyone else to have. You took it…but you broke it too. I know I messed up as well and I’m sorry. Something’s gotta change, but I know that it won’t,” Camila tried to fight back her own tears. She hadn’t expected to hear herself say these words. “No reasons to stay. So is it a good reason to go?”

To be in love is like jumping off a cliff. You don’t know what’s going to happen. Besides the possibility of death, but metaphorically speaking, there’s a high chance of death if the person isn’t going to catch you. You know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you jump anyway, without caring. All you care about is that just for that short period, you felt as though you were flying.

“Mama? Mummy?” Izzy’s voice caused her parents to look in the direction of the staircase. “Why are you crying? Are you sad that I asked abuelita to take me for ice cream without you?”

Clara descended the stairs behind Izzy and when she saw the looks on her daughter and daughter in law faces, she ushered her grandchild back upstairs and put on a movie for her to watch.

“Now, tell me what’s going on?” Clara took a seat opposite to the couple. “Wait don’t tell me, you’ve filed for a divorce. Am I right, Lauren?”

Camila was sitting in a defensive position on the couch a distance off from her wife. Her knees were brought up to her chest, as she wrapped her arms around them. Whilst Lauren sat on the other end of the couch, with her legs tucked under her and her face in her palms. They were always like this, so quick to isolate themselves and not talk about the issue that had been bothering the two of them. So quick to not want to try to work things out.

Her daughter looked a bit taken aback. “How did you know?”

Clara sighed heavily. “It doesn’t matter how I found it. Are you stupid, Lauren? Why on earth would you want to do that?” She pointed a finger at her daughter. “Don’t you dare answer that! How can you ignore your wife’s feelings? Your daughter’s? How can you be so selfish?!”

“That’s enough mami!” Lauren bit out harshly. She untucked her legs and glared at the woman. “You have no idea what Camila and I have been going through, so don’t you dare think I’m selfish!” Her mother looked shocked at her daughter’s outburst. “I’ve have been trying for a goddamn year! A whole fucking year trying to save my marriage! And yet you’re here telling me I’m being selfish?! If you think putting my daughter’s feelings before mine and trying to protect her from this…from us before we were to get worse, is selfish, then fucking hell, call me selfish.” The woman stood up and stooped in front of her mother. “If you think putting Camila’s feelings in front of mine, and ending our marriage because for god’s sake, I don’t want to end this, is selfish, then hell yeah mami, I. Am. Selfish.” She punctuated each word.

Clara Jauregui shook her head in disappointment. “What you’re doing is stupid. Can’t you see the condition of you wife?” She gestured at Camila. Her face was tear stained, and red. The tears were building up again. “How can you do that?”

“What was the reason you left papi?” Lauren asked. “The real reason mami. Because I knew the two of you loved each other dearly, and then one day, it wasn’t the same, you didn’t look at each other the same way…” the younger Jauregui trailed off.

Clara shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Lauren.”

“But it does. He cheated on you didn’t he?”

The woman paused before she nodded. “Yes…yes he cheated on me,” she laughed sadly. “Many many years ago with the maid. Can you imagine how it must’ve felt to walk on in and see that?”

Lauren nodded stiffly and looked at her wife. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How could I tell you that? Tell your sister? Maggie may seem carefree, mija but she can’t deal with her father being a cheater. So after many years of trying, we both realised it was time to say good bye to that chapter of our lives. It was better if the both of you believed we parted on a good note. And in a sense we did. We have two beautiful daughters together, the love we shared, well it’s no longer there but I don’t regret marrying your father. Without him, I wouldn’t have had you.”

It was the ones you love the most who could lift you in an instant. Fill your head with a possibility of a forever, but they can also destroy you without trying.

“Why did you stay with him when you saw him with the maid?” Camila asked weakly. She wiped at her eyes with her shirt’s sleeve.

Clara sighed. “Because I loved him. He wasn’t a bad man. He made me happy. He gave me the life I always wanted to live.”

“Do you forgive him?” Camila looked at her wife. “For hurting you…do you forgive him?”

Her mother in law smiled sadly and nodded. “I do. Call me stupid, but I do forgive him. As I said, he wasn’t a bad man, we all make mistakes. And sometimes we don’t think about the consequences of our mistakes, but I do forgive him. It took a lot of time, many tears and I guess, I still have a lot of unshed tears…but I forgave him before I even knew that I did.”

“Laur…” Camila’s voice was weak. “Please don’t leave me.” She begged. “Please don’t walk away.”

Lauren stared at her wife for a moment, she moved away from her mother and sat on the mahogany coffee table. Taking one of her wife’s hands in hers, she brought it to her lips and gently kissed it.

“Amor, tú eres mi vida,” Camila smiled softly. “But this is better for us. We’re going in circles and I’m tired, Camila. You can deny it too, but I know you feel the same way. I know you’re just as tired as I am.”

The singer shook her head and pulled her hand away from her wife slowly. “I used to think that our relationship would’ve been perfect because we loved each other. We were so right for each other. I used to think that nothing could’ve torn us apart, but I was wrong,” she stared into Lauren’s green, vibrant eyes and smiled. “But no relationship is perfect. No matter how much a couple seems right for each other, there’s going to be a lot of hardships, but if someone is willing to make it work, the least the other party should do….is try. I want to try, Laur. One more chance. Please?”

You don’t need another human being to make your life complete. But let’s be brutally honest. Having your wounds kissed by someone who doesn’t see them as imperfections or little disasters in your soul, but rather cracks to pour their love into, can feel like the most calming thing in this world.

Clara muttered something about giving them some privacy and going to check up on Izzy.

“I love you, Camila. I have loved you from the moment I saw you in that crowded hall at 7:50 on a Monday morning. You were dressed in your infamous white jeans, black crop top and some high tops. Your eyes were crinkled as you laughed at something funny your old friend Briana was telling you. I didn’t hear your laugh because it was too noisy, but I knew then and there, that if I did hear it, it would’ve been my favourite sound ever.” Lauren laughed softly at the memory. “I found myself coming to school everyday at that time just to see you. I never did work up the courage to talk to you until we were partnered up for a Spanish project. That was the first time you spoke to me. I was shocked that you even knew my name. I was a nobody, while you…you were the captain of the cheer leading squad. You were the head of the glee club and if I’m not mistaken, you were also the most beautiful girl to ever walk the halls of Miami High.”

Camila smiled. She could remember that very day when she and Lauren started to talk, and the reaction the woman had when she knew her name.

*** *Flashback*

“Miss Jauregui…Miss Cabello. The two of you will be working on the impact of the Latino culture on America,” Lauren didn’t hear any word after her teacher said Camila’s name.

They were going to be partners.

“What sort of sick joke is this?!” Lauren asked herself. She was too lost in her own world to notice the brunette, who had captured her eyes many weeks ago, standing in front of her.

Camila cleared her throat. “Hey, Lauren.” She smiled at her.

“She knows my name,” the green eyed girl said audibly instead of in her head as she thought.

The cheerleader laughed. “Of course I do silly. We’ve had classes together since the beginning of the school year. It’ll be kind of weird if I didn’t know your name right?” She took a seat next to her and pulled out her notebook. “So um…how are you at Spanish?”

Lauren was sitting their in disbelief. The girl who she had been crushing on was talking to her. Breathing the same air as her. And here she was making a fool of herself and no responding to her question.

Way to go, Lauren.

“Lauren?”

The girl blinked. “Oh right. I um..I’m Venezuelan actually. I wasn’t born there but you know, my grandparents were. So I’m pretty good at it. I think you’re Cuban right?”

Camila shook her head 'no’. “I’m Argentinian actually. I was born and I grew up there. Then I moved to America when I was 10. Legally that is. Don’t go reporting me, I’m not about to be thrown over the border.”

When giggled and when Lauren heard that heavenly sound, she felt her heart practically leap out of her chest.

“You have a cute laugh,” Lauren blushed when she realised what she had said. Why couldn’t she control her own thoughts?

The cheerleader smiled shyly. “Thank you. I hate my laugh actually. It’s pretty annoying. But before you say anything else, let’s figure out what we’re doing on this project okay?”

The duo had spent a lot of time together because of this project. Their friendship grew and so did Lauren’s popularity but she never focused too much on it. She had a couple of friends and she couldn’t care about the others, who wanted to be her friends because she knew Camila.

After a few months, Camila finally asked Lauren out, it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, she just wanted the girl to become comfortable with her. Their relationship only blossomed from there, until finally they got married when they were done with university.

*End of flashback* ***

“Camz…I think what we need is some time away from each other,” Camila was about to protest, but Lauren silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Let’s see how that goes first before we go through with the divorce. I’ll contact Normani and I’ll tell her to hold off on the divorce papers until I contact her again.”

Camila took a few minutes to weigh the pros and cons of this agreement. Pros would be that, with Lauren not there, she’ll be able to figure out what she wants. Cons, Lauren wouldn’t be there.

“What about Izzy?”

“I’ll ask my mom to take care of her. Unless you want Sinu to babysit her?” She shrugged. “I think we should let my mom take care of her.”

Her wife nodded. “Okay…” There was a tense silence between the couple. “Where are you going to stay?”

Lauren kinked an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ll be the one going?”

“I uh well I um…” Camila stuttered trying to collect her words. “I just assumed.”

Lauren smiled and gave her wife’s knee a squeeze. “I’m actually thinking about heading to Paris for a bit with Maggie for Fashion Week. She’ll be modelling,” her wife nodded. “Are you going to stay here?”

Camila shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll see what I’ll do as time goes by. I’ll probably go on a road trip with Dinah.” Lauren nodded in agreement. “When will we know when it’s time to come back together?”

“We’ll know. I promise. We’re going to find our way back to each other.”

*** Don’t lose any faith in me just yet. Also, Dr Briggs isn’t cancelled, it’s just a minor set back. Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter.

Wattpad: Commander_Camren

#UPDATE #series #g!p #camren #angst drama #family #humour #submission #Why Did I Get Married

33 notes · View notes

nobodysbusiness2 · 3 years

Text

10/17/21

Well it’s been a while, oops. A lot has happened since my last entry. I was right about deal swim school being good, I love my job. I got super thin and tan and my acne went away and I was really confident in my body and appearance. I still am but my acne is coming back. I have an appointment on Tuesday to get that figured out. I am about to go into the third week of off season at work. I think I actually really prefer being in the pool. Being at work feels pointless and I always just want to go home. Plus I’m just more comfortable working with kids than doing the office stuff. The last 3 hours of the day after my lunch break are rough.

I live with John and love it. He is sooo good to me. I definitely found my one. I’m very happy with my him and my life right now. Next week we are going to the keys for our one year anniversary. It doesn’t feel like it’s been a whole year. It both feels longer and shorter. I absolutely love him.

My favorite thing in the world right now is going to the movement sanctuary. We discovered it because we were going to the downtown st. Pete drum circles, but one day they didn’t have it and someone told John about the sanctuary and I immediately fell in love with it. It really is like a sanctuary for me. I have fallen in love with ecstatic dance. For me, it is practicing being vulnerable and loud (with my movements) and taking up space in public. I realllly love it, it is so therapeutic for me. Usually nobody dances with each other, but yesterday lots of people were dancing with each other and I danced with two different guys. One was very brief, the other was longer and a little more physical. I don’t know exactly why it freaks me out so bad. I want to be able to dance freely with other people and not freak out about it or feel like I’m being sneaky from John, because I’m really not and I know I’m not being unfaithful by dancing with people. I think a lot of this shit is leftover from Alex not even allowing me to say a word to any other males. I love feeling that electricity you feel with other people when you dance with them, and it’s not sexual in any way, but I love it so much I think I’m afraid of it or afraid of following it. I told him that J danced with other people and said if he’s not comfortable with me doing that then I will respect it, and of course he had no issue with it at all. He is so good. I don’t know how I got to lucky to find him. He is everything and he allows me to be free enough to dance with others. I told him that he should come dance with me sometime and he said he would. I think he will. I’m nervous he’s going to walk in while I’m dancing with another guy. I don’t even know why I’m nervous for that, because I know I’m not doing anything wrong. Idk. But I love the ecstatic dance. Every time I go to the sanctuary ya all I can think about the next day. Every damn time. Last night we were talking to a guy up in the net in the tree and he talked about how “it’s all about how you feel the next day.” I always feel amazing the next day afte the sanctuary and it’s all J can think about and J want to go back. It’s why I’m writing about it so much right now- it’s mostly what’s on my mind.

I’m breaking up with brandy my hair stylist and going to downtown hair lounge, where she used to work. I’m nervous af about it. If I don’t love what the new girl does I’m fucked. Plus I want my hair to be good for the keys and if it’s not great I’m gonna be real sad.

I should be asleep right now but I’m not tired. We went to the sanctuary last night so we didn’t get home until way late, and idk how but I basically slept in til 11 this morning, so now I can’t fall asleep.

Everything is looking good. I love my life. I’m so thankful and lucky. I have the best boyfriend ever.

0 notes

huntertales · 6 years

Text

Part Four: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. (Appointment in Samarra S06E11)

Episode Summary: The reader and Dean seek out Death to help get Sam’s soul back from the cage. Death tells the reader he will help Sam if the reader will agree to act as Death for twenty-four hours. When Sam hears of the plan to retrieve his soul, the younger Winchester decides he doesn’t want his soul back anymore. Sam goes far as enlisting the help of a new enemy to cast a spell to keep his soul out of his body. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 2,645.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You sat on the third to last basement steps after Bobby and Dean dragged the unconscious Sam into the panic room and handcuffed him to the cot, knowing all of you couldn’t take the chance of letting him loose. It was the same set up you had to do when the younger Winchester was under the detox for demon blood. Instead this time it wasn't for his protection, but for all of yours. You stared at the ring you had been wearing for the past twenty or so hours. Until you removed it not to long ago in order to fix a problem that you caused.

It should have been so easy to do what you were told. Hillary had been sick since she was first born. She needed to be put to rest in order for her suffering to end. And it wasn't like she was going to be facing an afterlife of misery and pain. People like her got a happily ever after that would last more than just a lifetime. Who knew. Perhaps she was in Heaven right now with her mother in that little cafe, being told stories about how her parents met. The thought made a fraction of a smile cross your lips. It didn’t last long for more than a few seconds.

In the past few years since you came back from Hell with Dean, you conditioned yourself to fight harder than you ever had before. Fight the natural order, fight who the universe wanted you to be. Fight to save the world and try to keep some of that free will you thought you had. And you did. There was rules and structure for a reason. Tessa was right about how everything you and the boys did, from the dying and selling souls, was exactly what the universe wanted. All of you had nine lives, but it didn't mean that others were that lucky. Sometimes you had to follow the rules in order to save them as well.

Nobody came out a winner tonight. You failed at the one chance of getting Sam's soul back from the cage. Dean and Bobby were foolish to think that Sam would behaved himself. Your fingers wrapped around the ring as you clenched your fist. For the first time you felt helpless. There was really no other options at your disposal anymore. Crowley was dead. Cas was up in Heaven, fighting what sounded like a losing battle. And you couldn't keep a damn ring on your finger. You could feel your breathing become more shallower when you wondered if you would be stick with that soulless man that you once called your best friend.

“I can’t keep doing this, Bobby.” Dean’s voice traveled from the other side of the basement. He peered into the panic room to observe his little brother who was chained up like an animal. Sam hadn’t woken up yet from the blow to the head he took when you whacked him out cold with the baseball bat. If you hadn’t acted when you did or showed up, Bobby might have been dead. He didn’t like how the night was coming along. You wondered if he was upset at what you couldn’t do. “What, am I gonna tie him up every time he tries to kill someone? That’s not gonna hold him. He’s--”

“Capable of anything.” Bobby mumbled, knowing exactly what the older Winchester was trying to say. The both of them had witnessed a side to Sam they never saw before. You were sure they hoped they never would have to ever again. No thanks to you, Soulless Sam was staying around for a lot longer than any of you wanted.

Dean fell silent for a few seconds. You heard his footsteps echo off the walls as he paced around back and forth ever so slowly. Your gaze fell to the ground when you heard the question the older Winchester asked himself. "What am I supposed to do here?" Because at the end of the day, no matter how much you tried to help carry the heavy burden that Dean carried on his shoulders since he was four years old, it was his little brother. It was his only remaining blood family that he could try and protect. And, once again, you screwed it all to hell.

You pushed yourself to your feet and began walking up the basement steps, suddenly feeling a parchment in your throat that only a beer could quench. You opened up the door and headed back to the house. Bobby and Dean needed some time to reflect on tonight's events, your lingering presence wasn't helping. You let out a sigh and began walking to the kitchen, happy to think that you were alone. As you turned your direction to walk into the kitchen,you stopped straight in your tracks, quickly noticing a familiar face you didn't think would be back so soon.

“Y/N.” Death sat at Bobby’s table with a friendly smile. You looked at him with a funny sort of expression when you noticed that he was eating a late dinner, the kind that made your empty stomach turn over with a wave of nausea. He stretched out a hand for you to join him. You went far as to the table, you stood next to the chair he gestured to. “Brought you one. From a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs.”

"No thanks. I'm trying out this new thing where I don't eat things that have to be killed." You said. The only thing that didn’t change about you was your snarky responses. You stared at Death for a moment until you listened to his command. You pulled out the chair and sat next to him. You sniffed the food that he was happily enjoying. While it smelled rather good, you weren't’ the least bit intimidated by him. “Wow, what’s with you and cheap food?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Thought I’d have a treat before I put the ring back on.” Death said. You almost forgot that you were holding onto the precious thing. You opened your palm to stare at the damn that had only caused you misery. And that was only for one day. You couldn’t imagine being chained to a job like that for century after century. “Sometimes you just want the thing off. But you know that.”

You looked at the man from the corner of your eye from the way he was speaking. You ignored his question about not being hungry. You placed the ring on the table for Death to claim as his own once more. The both of you knew that he was better at it than you ever could. “Look, I think you know that I flunked. So there.” You said, admitting to your mistakes before he could try and rub your face into it. “Oh, and by the way, I sucked at being you. I screwed up the whole natural order thing, but I’m pretty sure you knew about that, too.’’

“So if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl?” Death asked the most important question of all. “No fuss, no stomping your feet?”

“Knowing what I know now? Yeah.” You admitted, nodding your head slowly.

“I’m surprised to hear that. Surprised and glad." Death said. You huffed out a quiet breath and shook your head from your previous actions. It was just one life that you could have saved. You still had to kill the little girl in order to do your job. "I think it's a little more than what you're leading on. Today you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order is not quite such fun when you have to mop of the mess. Is it? This is hard for you, Y/N. You throw your life away because you've come to assume that it'll bounce back in your lap. The human soul is not a rubber ball. It’s vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know, and more valuable than you can imagine.”

Death's words hit you in a spot inside of you that not even you realized about yourself. You sold your soul, sacrifice yourself for the greater good because you thought it was the right thing to do. In reality, it was the part of the universe's list of things to accomplish. And you checked off every box. When you were left bleeding in that cemetery with Dean back when Sam threw himself into the cage, you had selfishly thought that you would be fine. That somehow you could become human and live your life. You might have died, but you came back. Because the universe wanted one more thing out of you. One more deed before you finally kicked the bucket.

“Do you want to know what I think? I think you knew that I wouldn’t last a day.” You said. Death tried to pretend and act like he had no idea what you were talking about. But the dumb act didn't suit him at all. "At least have the guts to admit that it was rigged from the jump. You knew I wouldn't harm a head on that little girl. All because you didn't want to fetch Sam's soul."

“Most people speak to me with more respect.” Death said. It seemed he found your tone of voice a bit out of the ordinary, you scoffed at his passive threat.

“If you want respect, old you old bag of bones, you got to earn it.” You leaned over the table and stared at him directly in the eye. You showed him that you weren't scared of him. You had died so many different times in the past six years, all of it was a blur. “We’re done here. Aren’t we?”

"It's been lovely. Nice to see that you're adjusting well without that little piece of your soul. I’ve got to cut our little banter shorter than I hoped.” Death said. You could feel the arrogant smirk on your lips began to slowly fade at what you heard. “I have to go to hell to get your friend's soul."

You had a feeling the attitude you gave him wasn’t what changed his mind. You failed at the deal he made with you. But for some reason, he was being the kind one here and throwing you a bone of mercy. “Why would you do that for me?”

“I wouldn’t do it for you. You and your little friends keep coming back. You’re an affront to the balance of the universe and you cause disruption on a global scale.” Death said. He walked forward to you until he was now standing next to you, hovering over your body. You swallowed as you apologized for whatever sort of problems you may have caused. “But you and those Winchesters have use. Especially you, Y/N. Right now, you’re digging at something. The intrepid detective. I want you to keep digging, Y/N.”

"Okay..." You raised your brow from what you were hearing, and having no clue what any of it meant. "So are you just gonna be cryptic, or--"

"It's about the souls." Death explained. You looked at him with an even more confused expression, still not having the slightest idea what he meant by that. A wiped memory could do that to a human. He reached for his ring and looked at you, knowing that with that little piece of your missing soul, the lost time would come back to haunt you. "You'll understand when you need to."

"Wait." You stopped the man from slipping the ring back on his finger. You wanted to know from all the effort you were putting into this, it was going to at least amount to something. "With Sam, and my little contribution...is this thing really gonna work?"

“Call it seventy-five percent.” Death answered you.

You watched as Death slipped his ring back onto his finger, all before disappearing from your sight again. What you heard was sort of...uplifting. Death put more hope into this plan that you had originally thought. You subconsciously placed a hand against your chest, wondering for a moment what the consequences were going to be for you in order for Sam to get better. Whatever it was, you would face them eventually. Right now, you knew what was about to unfold was going to be painful than anything you'd have to witness. It might even open a few old wounds that you tried to hide since coming back from the cage. But all of it would be worth it if Sam was okay.

You pushed yourself up to your feet and bolted for the basement door again. From the speed that you were going, you were surprised that you didn't go tumbling down the stairs. Your stomping caused Dean and Bobby to break away from their somber mood of lingering around the basement, trying to figure out what to do. For the first time in a long time, you might have just saved the day.

"Guys?" You called out for their attention, jumping down the last three steps and landing feet first on the concrete. You quickly turned the corner when you heard Sam's panicked voice echo from the panic room. Bobby looked at you with a worried expression, wondering what was going on. "Open the door. Now!"

Bobby did as he was told. The man headed over to the panic room and opened up the heavy iron door. You pushed between the two men to see that Sam was staring at Death himself, who was carrying something the man tried so hard to fight. You could feel your chest tighten in guilt as Death ignored the young man's pleads and took a seat down on the cot. He placed down the briefcase that he was carrying after his journey to the cage and opened it up, a burst of light illuminated from the special content inside.

"Now, Sam. I'm gonna put a barrier inside your mind. It might feel a little itchy. Do me a favor. Don't scratch at the wall." Death warned the younger Winchester. "Because, trust me, you're not gonna like what happens."

Sam tried his hardest to try and fight his way out of this one, but he was cornered, with nowhere to go but down. You could feel yourself overcome with fear at the sight of him. You’d only seen the man like this once, down in the cage, where the both of you were stricken with the worst kind of torture that even shook you to this very day. You were only down there for a hot second. Sam’s soul had been down there for over a year and a half. You could feel your bottom lip starting to quiver at the sight of him.

You opened your mouth to tell Death to stop, the memories of the cage and reality seemed to be clashing together. But you reminded yourself that this was reality. This was what you had to do. Dean must have sensed the emotions you were being put through. You found yourself cowering away in fear as Sam's soul finally began to enter his body again after being parted away. You tried your hardest to block out the noises of Sam's cries of pain as you buried your face in Dean’s chest.

You shut your eyes in an attempt to drift off to a better place. Instead you found yourself back in that wretched cage, with Lucifer himself staring at you. While he wasn't alone, it wasn't Michael by his side, it was a familiar face that you saw every day when you looked in the mirror. She blinked, revealing black eyes and a wicked smile to match her rotten soul.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester @lotsofspnshitposts @everything-i-tried-was-taken @starswirlblitz @albot-e @supernaturalismydrug @we-are-band-sexuals @angiewinchestercas @kaylinfayezink @owhatshername1@kgbrenner @kartuziprincessofhorrors @cleo-is-my-doggy @eeyore1988@dakota-dream @lilylovelyxo@timetravelingginger @flaurityxoxokokooxox @holahellohialoha @quicksilver123456 @natashacamillaus @nadanidea @falloutofmymemez @lexi-anastasia @kaylinfayezink @deanwnchstr @albot-eh @yelloweyedwriter @rashinyx2002 @e-quanimity @shellybeans @icantfindacreativeurl @becs-bunker @oreosatmidnight @bands-and-shietz @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear

(Message me if you would like to be added!)

32 notes · View notes

sunshine-tears-brokenhearts · 6 years

Text

A somewhat shorter version of my life

I come from a broken home , my family fight , we scream and shout and get very angry we hurt each other with words, words we can’t always take back ,

Growing up was never easy , surrounded by violence and hatred, the feeling of being loved less than everyone else . Not knowing why my dad didn’t want me . Not knowing why my mother cried in her room on the floor . Why she was always so angry.

Moving town after towm built me and broke me , I have been so many different people , I have built myself up to be broken so many times , I explored a the life of drugs and alcohol cause the pain I was suffering everyday was so unbareable that I needed something to make it go away.

I have been beaten and bruised , wished my life away so many times , being controlled by a tiny piece of metal that didn’t even seem to hurt as much as it should have . Hospital visits , upon doctors appointments followed by years of counselling that never made a difference , different medications that are sworn to ‘help’ but only made me feel more like nothing than I already felt , like my whole personality was just taken away from me .

Different men in my life that are supposed to be role models but only make me question the human race , who beat up my mam and shove me into walls and touch my leg. Make my little sister wet herself cause she was so scared , a man a man who was trusted to come into our lives and supposed to 'love’ our mam but only to smash a lamp across her head, for me to climb out my window in fear and for us to have to drive so late at night to a family friend just so we’re safe.

Counless times I’ve experienced things not even some adults have seen . The love for my family that I had slowly started to fade the trust I had in them was gone and the people who were supposed to make a 13 year old feel didn’t exist .

From being bet by family and bullies and having fake friends , to feeling suicidal every now and then to it being all I thought about . Every minute of every day. That tiny piece of metal became my only friend but when my sister found our she felt obligated to tell my mam and of course we already know she didn’t handle it well she frightened me into promising 'oh it was a one time thing’ I don’t think she actually believed this was true but In her mind she was ’ parenting right’ she picked up a sisscors and proceeded to slit her own wrist only to tell me that I done this.

So when she noticed I hadn’t stopped this she fucked me off to live with my dad who I knew nothing about , he never wanted me growing up so why now? I couldn’t understand how he cared now or at least I thought he did .

A few weeks later it was new year’s Eve in a town where I didn’t know anyone I didn’t know who I was. I wished it right there and tried to end my life.

I woke up the next morning with the worst feeling in the world , and noticed that nobody had even come to check on me , knowing what had been going on in my life but that was the moment I realised that nobody cared , I was alone in the world with nobody there .

I started school with one friend who became more like a sister than a friend , friendship so close that went up in flames . As I sat in the office waiting to be shown around it was around 9:15 I watched all these people pass me , staring I felt shame , I wasn’t sure why I felt it but it’s what I can only describe as shame , a girl walked in and I got this feeling that I hadnt felt in a while , not since my first crush on my bestfriend.she walked straight past me didn’t even look my way blue hair and the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen. She just had this presence about her that made me wonder .

We kissed in the bushes and it all started from there , that summer I was in a relationship with a girl, something that I had always been closed off about sharing with people , but everyone knew I guess my poker face wasn’t great.

Months went on of being broken up with so she could sleep with someone else , wasn’t a healthy relationship in any form. I ended up hospital for a week cause I had a nervous breakdown at 14 , the doctors saw the skin on my arms didn’t exist and in it’s place was hundreds of cuts that left scars that never faded .

I was seeing a girl who I cared for so much , I went away for the summer to see my best friend we rarely seen each other and she understood memore than anyone and something changed me forever that still haunts me to this day , some boy who I thought was a 'friend’ sexually assaulted me in her mother’s room , blood pouring down my leg , he cut me with his nails and told me I wanted this , even though I proceeded to say 'NO’ and begged him to stop and cried , he proceeded to tell me I wanted it , he made me feel like it was my fault. I couldn’t bear it . I swallowed some pills any that I could find and drank some vodka that burned my throat . It didn’t work. I ended up leaving the girl I was seeing because I felt like I had done something wrong. I couldn’t get close and I was distant .

Coming up to my last year of school still struggling to unfriend that shiny piece of metal I meet my first boyfriend who seemed to be the best thing in the world only to be a prick who put drugs before me and didn’t know shit , who went on to treat me like I was nothing , that’s when my anxiety started to get bad , panic attack after panic attack I didn’t know who I was , only to be broken and loose all sense of control I had. He made me feel like I was going to die without him , completely controlled . I had to move town to get away from him because he seemed to think he had the power to say im not allowed break up with him .

I started college and everything was great I figured so much things out , ironically I studied psychology . Selfish it seemed I was doing it more to understand myself and the people who hurt me.

I was living with a mate from school who I soon realised I didn’t want to be her mate , we were too alike . But she lies.

I lost myself , taking drugs and drinking the equivalent of my body weight in vodka every week , during the week , whenever I could , I wasn’t stable but I felt happy , I started sleeping with people , I had only ever had sex with a man once before this , it wasn’t for me , I didn’t see any appeal to it .

I had no respect for myself . I didn’t care if people we’re using me , I couldn’t feel anything , I met my best friend who made me feel everything made me feel love again and helped me to realise that maybe I don’t deserve what I put myself through. We promised we would always be there and regardless of the times I fucked him over he was always there ,still now.

I lost friend and gained some , I traveled from group to group as my personality changed , I trusted when I shouldn’t have and didn’t trust when I should have ,

Then I met him. I met someone who changed everything , he is utterly the one person in the whole world that breaks me but also builds me back up , that’s not good is it? Someone having so much control over your emotions , someone who said they loved me and made me feel more than I’ve ever felt. Someone who I knew would never hurt me the way I had been hurt in the past but I was struggling when I met him , that little shitty piece of metal was back in my life and somehow they made me forget about it .. I fell head over heals for him , I moved back home to my mam for the summer leaving him but we promised we would wait.

We found our way back but I had grown so much over the summer and gotten so far with myself , I felt more and cared more. We loved each other so much , but one day he woke up and decided he couldn’t say it anymore , even kiss me , he would sleep in my bed with his back facing me , no affection no love , it tore me into a million pieces , and the only excuse was ’ I don’t know’ and made me feel I done something wrong. I fell straight back into my back hole of depression where I never seemed to easily come out of .

My life has been a whole load of heartache so how can I cry over someone who 'doesnt want me' is it just selfish to love people when I can't even love myself and my life . Spiriling out of control and not knowing where to go. It's sad when you have so much love in your heart but it expresses like hatred.

2 notes · View notes

gendertrader · 4 years

Text

Physical

279 lbs / 5’9” / 24 / Spiro: 1/1/19 | E: TBD

All right, y’all. I know I’ve been away for some time now, but there haven’t really been many changes to report. Until now.

I’ve set a date. Well, an approximate date, but a date nonetheless. My birthday is coming up (February 10) and I figured now is as good a time as ever. I’ve been on Spiro for a year now and I’ve been happy with all the changes. Of course, there have been mental issues arise since I’ve started, but I like to think of it as unlocking a new level – it’s harder because I’m further in the journey. I originally looked into going to a Planned Parenthood (because they’re informed consent and offer payment options for those without insurance) but there aren’t any near me that offer HRT, merely service referrals. Now I’m shopping around but still plan on setting the appointment for early February. Anyway, let’s get into the data.

Skin

N/A

Hair (body/head)

My hair is a little softer and a little easier to tame than it used to be. Of course, I’m working to improve my haircare routine, but it’s been visibly less crazy even on days when I use the same routine as previous years. It’s not quite as full, but I think that’s due to the hair-loss I experienced a couple weeks ago. I also recently cut my hair (from a lob to a bob) and even though it’s shorter than I wanted, it’s still a cute cut and has gotten me “ma’am”ed a couple times so I’m not unhappy.

My body hair has been growing a little slower for sure, but since I’m on biotin, some of it is growing at regular speeds but is easier to maintain. Chest and armpit hair has been growing slower for sure. I don’t believe anything has gotten thinner or finer, though.

Face

Not much cheekbone growth since my previous mention. I wish there were more, which I guess is why I will be (hopefully?!?) starting E soon.

I finally got my eyebrows thin enough for the look I’m going for! There’s still a little trimming to be done, but I think I finally found what I’ve been looking for.

I experienced a slight increase in facial acne around the chin and forehead, but I imagine this is normal.

Body

Not much here, either. I’ve seen very minor breast growth, but still in a gynecomastia kind of way, and not a breasts kind of way. Which is fine. But I’m starting to doubt (surprise surprise asksdkgskd) my decision in an “I’m just using gender dysphoria as a cover for my desire to be thin” way, which is problematic but a very real worry I’m having. I keep telling myself that I’m actually happier with my fatter body because it feels closer to my desired shape, but there’s no denying that the idealized version of myself that I’m trying to build is thinner, and I’m not sure that I’m appropriately disassociating weight and happiness from transness. Am I falsely assuming that transitioning will help with my weight problems and happiness problems inherently, or do I believe that transitioning will increase my happiness, which will in turn affect my compulsive need to overeat to substitute for the organic happiness I’m not receiving, which will result in my being thinner? Who knows! It is kind of helpful to get it all typed out (thanks for the help lmao) but still doesn’t clarify anything. I’ll have to wait and see.

Ummmmm I’ve been literally so horny recently. Like wtf horny. Like masturbate twice a day as opposed to once a week horny. I guess it’s fine, it just makes me concerned that my Spiro isn’t as strong as it used to be, or that there’s a ‘spillover’ (if you will) of T since Spiro blocks the reception but not the production. I’d like to speak with an endo sometime after I start E to discuss switching to something safer (like bicalutamide or cypro).

I noticed a distinct scent change probably like two or three months ago, I’m not sure if I’ve recorded that, but my shower schedule has had to change because it’s more difficult to hide if I’ve not cleaned in a week. Good for depression or something.

Mental/Emotional

Depression: Definitely getting worse. It could be the SAD or that I’m changing jobs or that I’m hitting a new trans milestone that’s got me all fucked up, but I’m tired of it. I was told that there’s a free clinic near me that would prescribe meds, and I’m seriously considering it. I’m not sure if I want to go before or after my E appointment but I imagine executive dysfunction will cause it to be after. Speaking of which...

I’m p sure I have ADHD: inattentive. Like symptoms and coping mechanisms are lining up interestingly close to those with diagnosed ADHD and some other things are clicking into place. I’m not sure if this means anything, but thoughts are happening for sure.

Anxiety: Not as bad, though I switched the weed strain I’ve been smoking last month, so that could be playing in. I’m definitely smoking more (or for different reasons?) than I used to so I’m trying to keep an eye on that, make sure that I’m not withdrawing too much. This world is a shithole and I sometimes despise being forced to exist here, but it’s the only one we got.

I keep catching myself nervous beyond belief to actually start E, despite having wanted this since high school. I know this is a normal reaction with many valid points, but I can’t help but worry that mine are one of the few that are unfounded (#narcissism). I’m going to have to detransition because I was experiencing mental traumas that made existing as a woman-aligned person easier that confronting my relationship with masculinity and my body. In reality, I think my grasp on masculinity and its role in my personality will become clearer with HRT and I will have an easier time displaying it when “masculine” is no longer the default seen by the people around me.

Finally, I wish to share this with the parents. I think. Probably.

I know I want to share the decision to start E with my Facebook friends, as they’ll likely realize something is up via my posts and pictures, but I can’t do that until I’ve explained this to my family, which will be...interesting. I’ll have to prepare some resources for understanding nonbinary identities and answers to all those pesky questions nobody wants to have to answer, and I’m sure it’ll be a while before they get it, but...this coming out will be different from my first. I guess mainly because I’ve mostly socially transitioned at this point so few people should be surprised, but also because I have more power in how I decide to exist and am a stronger person now who has weathered this before. I think this is where some of my anxieties stem, that I’ve forgotten how to be that person, but I’m working on remembering that I’m stronger than I think, and that I’ve been through much worse.

#transition #updates #late new year post

0 notes

driftinglightofthewoods · 7 years

Text

Value || Drabble

Summary: A not completely chronological yet long drabble about the relationship between Miston’s sister Amathel and her to-be fiance Lagoron.

Characters: Amathel, Lagoron Also mentioned: Sernil, Brasson, Pellam, Kaziel (who belongs to @lacrimosa-magnolia )

“You’ve set me up with… Lagoron?” The captain looked up, brown eyes meeting the bright grey ones of one of her guard members- okay, not just one. Sernil would never deny Amathel’s skill or score as a guard member, but that was beside the point as she watched the dark haired elleth go through various conflicting emotions as she read the roster once more, before turning her head to her captain with wide-eyed confusion. “Why?!” it made absolutely no sense to the tall warrior, “He’s-“ “In the bottom rank, only above two others. He’s unmotivated to the point of being downright lazy and he’s more often found eating our kitchens empty than actually practicing. I am aware of this, Amathel.” “Then why- this is a mistake. You meant to set me up to train with someone else, right? Brasson?” “Clashing egos make a terrible team, Amathel.” “Pellam?” “She would have no say in any decision making, you are too power minded for her.” “Kaziel, then. Please?” Sernil raised an eyebrow, before letting out a small huff of disbelieve. Oh, if only Amathel could just accept a decision from someone else every now and then, that would make the whole situation a lot easier. “No. Kaziel is not technically a bad choice. He’s skilled and devoted, sure- but I guarantee you that your stoic and serious work attitude does not go along with his… somewhat childish nature. Amathel, there’s been no mistake. You’re training with Lagoron, end of discussion. You’re dismissed.” With a loud groan Amathel turned on her heels, stalking out of the study of her captain while grumbling to herself on how ridiculous this whole situation. Out of all people she had to train with Lagoron? Really?! Fine. If that’s what the captain wanted she would show what a useless decision it was. “You!” her voice roared over the training fields, with several elves looking up as they parted to let her through. She stalked right over to Lagoron, who had been sitting on the field casually eating a pear and looking up at her with mild annoyance over being disturbed. “For some reason, our captain has put you as my sparring partner for this month. I am going to prove to her that it was the wrong decision, and that I should be set up with someone else!” He blinked once, taking the last bite of the pear and chewing it slowly before tossing whatever remained over his shoulder, not even giving the slightest indication that he was about to stand up and do anything while their brothers and sisters around them had long decided to return to their own training- and it infuriated Amathel already. “Get up!” “Fine.” He was slightly shorter than her, more lean in build than her muscular frame- it was actually rather amazing that an elf who ate as much as the first hobbit you’d find was still as thin and lean as Lagoron was. He stood before her, still unmotivated. Out of pure frustration with everything, Amathel threw the first punch- Which he swiftly dodged. They stood there, silently observing each other with questioning eyes. Amathel wasn’t someone who missed her mark often and Lagoron had never shown such swiftness before- then again, when was the last time she had seen him practice anything at all? She couldn’t remember. With a growl she threw another punch, which he dodged again as if almost by instinct. Now fully enraged, Amathel threw everything she had into the spar- punches, kicks, moves and yet he all- “Stop avoiding me! Stop dodging!” “Well I’m not just going to stand there and let you rain your revenge on me!” “Stop-!” She felt her fist being halted by something, which gripped onto her hand tight and held it back enough for the muscles in her arm to shake from the strain. She looked up, seeing his hand in front of his face clutching down on… hers. “You…” “I-“

He dropped her hand, causing her to stumble forward as he was no longer holding back her weight, the palm of his hand quickly reddening. He winced in pain, flexing his fingers in some attempt to ease the discomfort- she did hit hard, even in practice apparently. “You blocked it..”

He watched her, continuously hitting the straw dummy over and over in frustration. Lagoron had quickly learned, within days even, that Amathel was prideful. The comment Sernil had made about her stance therefor had cut deep. Apparently, she tried to inflict that onto the straw dummy in the past few hours she had been standing there. He sighed, waiting a moment longer before approaching her. “Am?” With a grunt she hit the sword into the side of the dummy, causing it to get stuck- She bit her lip in anger, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I know you’re upset, Am. But this is not the way to deal with it.” “So I’m just supposed to ignore her criticism, is that it?” “It wasn’t criticism, Amathel. Not in the way you seem to perceive it. Sernil didn’t tell you to slave over this dummy for hours to get your stance right in one split second of battle-“ “So I’m supposed to do it your way, then?!” she snapped, turning to him in one fluid motion. “You take criticism as an excuse to do nothing! Because why try to improve, right?! Much easier to do nothing!” She wanted to say more, but stopped when she saw the hurt visible in his eyes. Oh no. She instantly regretted it, recalling the one time Lagoron had lowered his guard and told her how despite his desire of being a warrior he found it so difficult to be motivated since even if he tried his best, he still was out shadowed by so many in the ranks- as if everything he did was in vain. He turned around quietly, walking away from her as she made an attempt to reach out and take his hand. She halted in the middle of it, feeling tears burn in her eyes as she watched him leave. I’m sorry.

“Can you please listen to me?”

If he thought he could outrun her on the tracking fields than he was wrong, he knew that well enough himself, but the least he could do was ignore her. She had hurt him badly and he wasn’t in the mood to listen to her apology. So he ran, gaze in front of himself despite knowing that she easily kept up with him. She could do more meters than him, faster than him- it didn’t matter. He was better at pretending she wasn’t there, if she would just- It was just one missed step, but it almost folded his ankle in half and send him to the ground, hitting it with a heavy handed thud. Amathel forced herself to stop, letting others run by until only the two of them were still at the same spot. She was in front of him in two steps, slowly kneeling down. “Lagoron-“ “Go away. Don’t you have a new record to settle? Break your old personal one?” “Lagoron…” “I don’t need your pity.” “I don’t pity you.” He looked up, gently pushing himself up into a sitting position as he looked at her knelt in front of him. He sought her face for any explanation, but didn’t really find anything aside from a strange sense of compassion. “I’m sorry, Lagoron. I’ve been incredibly mean to you. I haven’t been a team player, at all. I thought that if I proved myself to Sernil that she would give me a “dignified” sparring partner, that she would give me someone higher in the rank. But…. I understand, now. I understand why she decided to put you with me.” “To make you feel superior?” “To make me value my team.” He rolled his eyes, flinching back for a second when she reached her hand out to him. He frowned, staring at it in confusion. “I’m not going to claim that you are the strongest of our team. Or the fastest.” “Geeh, thanks.” “But you are brave. And just. I’ve seen you, Lagoron. I’ve seen you talk to Brasson and letting him discuss the things that frustrate him. I’ve seen you offer Pellam insight in which arrows she should pick and let her come to the conclusion herself. I thought Kaziel couldn’t be sad for long, but you sat with him and held him company when that… anniversary came around and he didn’t have the mood to do anything- when the rest of us didn’t know what to do to make our appointed ‘clown’ happy. You are only behind in your own training because you close the ranks- for our sake. You avoid fights because you’d rather help your team succeed. You keep us together, because you refuse to turn your back on anyone in this team. You…. No one has ever even tried to talk to me when I’m taking my anger out on those straw dummies- I didn’t value it. I didn’t value that you leave nobody behind. It’s about time we don’t leave you behind, either.” Once more Amathel reached her hand out to him, surprisingly gentle in the gesture. Lagoron looked at it, his gaze going up to meet her eyes before sinking down again to look at her hand. He placed his own hand slowly into hers, allowing her to pull him up. “Ow, ow. My ankle-“ “Here. Let me help you.” She pulled his arm over her shoulders, wrapping the other around his waist and allowing him to place most of his weight onto her- it wasn’t like she couldn’t handle that, anyway. Amathel stuck beside Lagoron, slowly but surely bringing him back to the normal training fields and to the healer’s cabin.

“Are you alright?” She looked up at him, quietly, tears pooling in her eyes but none spilling. She didn’t even need to say a word for him to sit down beside her on the field, underneath the starry night sky above them that seemed to go on for miles beyond the tree tops. He offered her an apple, which she accepted and took a bite out of- the stress hadn’t allowed her to eat much during the day. He kept quiet for a while, thinking about what would be the best thing to say. “One failed test won’t make you drop in rank.” “I know. I’m still upset I failed. I trained so hard… I should’ve blocked that attack. After all the training we’ve done, after all I’ve seen you do- you would’ve thought I picked up some of your blocking.” “You’re not me, Amathel. You’re better at offense than defense, and with me it’s vice versa.” She sighed, looking up at the sky as she placed her hands behind her hips to support her weight. At least she was getting better at not letting her failures fill her with so much anger and frustration. She felt his hand on her own, looking at him from the corners of your eyes. “I’m proud of you, Ammy. If you want, I could help you train blocking for the next test?” “I would like that. I’m proud of you too, Lagoron. You’ve come so far.” He smiled at her, moving to rest his head on her shoulder and look at the sky as well. The stars seemed to shine even brighter and the moon casted it’s pale glow onto the field that was surrounded by rose bushes that would bloom again in the morning. Fireflies were dancing around and everything seemed at peace as was almost the norm in Imladris. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Lagoron. You taught me how to slow down and just breathe.” “And you’ve gotten me of my lazy ass.” “You’re not lazy.” “Not anymore.” She gave him a playful shove, comfortable in his presence to the point where she didn’t feel like being serious about everything all the time, ruffling his blond hair until it almost resembled a bird’s nest. “Hey!” “I won’t let you talk bad about yourself again. You’ve done that enough and so have we, the rest of the team.” They sat there in each other’s company enjoying their surroundings in the quiet and calm night until Lagoron sat up, stretching himself with a yawn. He chuckled softly to himself, looking at Amathel from the corners of his eyes. She looked beautiful to him in the pale moonlight. A soft smile rested on his lips as he kept looking, eventually getting her attention. “What?” “I’m sure you’ll do fine on your next test.” “Lagoron-“ “You’re amazing, Am.” Amathel blinked, confused by his compliment as she felt a blush creep onto her face which only turned a deeper shade of red when he brushed a strand of her dark hair away from her face- he was suddenly so close to her. Almost as if frozen, neither of them moved for a while, their eyes locked onto each other as they were trying to figure out what to do next and how the other would accept the next step- She slowly closed the gap, gently pressing her lips onto his and feeling his fingers thread themselves in her hair as she cupped his face in her hands. It only lasted a fleeting moment before they both pulled back, gasping slightly before giggling nervously and turning away. “… That’ll stay between us, right, Am?” “Y-Yes. I mean, can you imagine if we told Brasson or Pellam?” “Pfft, I’m more worried about Kaziel. He’ll definitely tease us about it if we told him.” “We don’t need to tell our clown anything.” They both started laughing, the sound of it harmonious together in the silent night. “Still, this team would be boring without Brasson, or Pellam, or Kaziel.” “Aye.”

#drabble #proud warrior of Imladris (Amathel)#he was the calm to her storm (Lagoron)

3 notes · View notes

myaekingheart · 6 years

Text

summer road trip 2018 ; day three

I didn’t get a chance to write this out the day of in the hustle and bustle of everything so I‘m doing it now. At 1am on a Sunday night. Oops. But anyways, I slept better on Friday night than I did Thursday night so that was good, even though I shouldn’t have. I slept on the pullout couch in my parents’ hotel room and I could literally feel every single spring in the mattress so that wasn’t fun. And yet somehow I still slept pretty decently. We woke up early, got dressed and showered and whatnot and then we went downstairs for breakfast which was great. I was starving and they had pretty good food. I ate mini omelets and tater tots. We ran into my cousin, the one who was getting married that night, and her family down there, as well, and got to all eat together which was wonderful. I haven’t seen my cousin in ages but I feel like in a way we’re kind of like kindred spirits or whatever. We were really close when I was a kid-- she used to sleepover all the time and she and my aunt would always babysit me, and we had a great time every time even though we’re nine years apart. She was like the big sister I never had, really, and I regret moving away because it meant we drifted drastically. We both are kind of goofy and fun and have anxiety issues and our cats are basically twins so that’s cool. But anyways, so we eat breakfast together and then my dad dropped my mom and I off to go get our hair done. I was incredibly excited since I had really been looking forward to this. Not that I wasn’t excited for the wedding, too, because I was, but I’ve been meaning to get my hair cut for months. I just kept putting it off because I didn’t feel entirely comfortable walking into a Hair Cuttery in my town by myself and running the risk of running into someone I might know or something. I hadn’t gotten a haircut since last summer, though, when I got side swept bangs and layers and in the year since then, they‘ve both grown out and my hair ended up looking kind of lifeless and just...there. I really wanted to do the same sort of thing again, though, and really commit to the indie scene hairstyle I love so much (yeah, I know it’s outdated. Shoot me). My mom went so far as to make an appointment for us, too, which was even better. I was expecting the two of us to sit there getting our hair done shooting the shit and laughing and just having a great fucking time. But of course, let’s face it. This is me we’re talking about here and we all know my luck. We checked in and my mom got called back immediately. Meanwhile I sat there for thirty fucking minutes waiting for someone to call my name. People who had gotten there after me were getting called back before I did. I was about to have a fit. A part of me felt like I was going to cry. I felt left out, truthfully, watching my mom get her hair done meanwhile I was stuck back in the waiting area with no fucking clue how long I was going to be stuck there. I was panicking, truthfully. I started second guessing myself, thinking maybe this wasn’t worth it. Eventually, I did, in fact, finally get called back. I made friends with the girl who shampooed my hair which was probably the only good thing about this trip. Someone else was assigned to cut my hair and apparently no amount of meticulous preparation was enough. I had nearly 70 reference pictures of exactly what I wanted and what I got was honestly not even close. I will admit that there was at least one very valid excuse for why she fucked up and that was because the fire alarm randomly went off while she was doing my hair and she probably got flustered and disoriented or something. Nobody had any idea what was going on and it was clearly stressful for everyone so I mean, I will put that into consideration. Still, though, I don’t think that’s a good enough excuse for what she did. I’ll start with the more tolerable fuck-up: the layers. In that I swear she didn’t give me any. I was watching her cut my hair and I mean, it looked like she was cutting layers into it so I was really confused when, at the end of it all, I looked at my hair and there are legit no fucking layers in there. It’s all one even length. I would know. I got layers last time and it was very clear that I had layers. The most intolerable fuck-up, however, were the bangs. I cannot even begin to explain how disappointed and depressed I am about how she cut my bangs. She apparently had absolutely no idea what the fuck she was doing. She asked me what side I normally part my hair and I told her on the right and so she started cutting with the intention of them sweeping to the right. I told her she could probably tell which part of my hair was once my bangs the last time I got them cut because they were shorter than everywhere else, and she asked me if I wanted them the same thickness. When I told her I wanted them thicker, she looked at me like I had three heads. But I had a goal. I had something in mind. I wanted that typical indie scene hair where your bangs start all the way back at, like, your crown and are all brushed forward. So at least she cut them at the right thickness, even if she thought it was blasphemous. The way she cut them was the most horrendous fucking thing I have ever seen, though. She said something about angling them but the way she worded it made me confused and question whether she really knew what she was doing. I learned quickly that she most definitely did not. Instead of cutting them angling downward like a normal human being, she cut them nearly straight across from, like, the start of my ear to my nose. The only hindrance on the straightness was that it was longer nearer to my face. Like inverted side swept bangs. When she was finished, she asked me how I liked it with this look on her face like “What the fuck kind of weird-ass alien style do you even have?” I lied and told her I loved it. The reasoning behind this was two-fold: I didn’t want her to feel bad if I bitched, and if I bitched I didn’t want her to try and fix it because I knew she’d only make it worse. Afterward I wanted nothing more than to run to the hotel room and just fucking disappear but my mom had some other errands to run and truthfully, I did, too, so we ran to Ulta and got her some new mascara and Old Navy to get me some new flip-flops because the cats completely ruined my old ones (which, truthfully, were ready to go anyways since I’ve had them since like freshman year of high school if not longer). When we were finally done with that, my dad picked us up and let’s just say he definitely didn’t think either of our looked great, either. My mom got a long, layered bob which the hairdresser curled with a flat iron and it looked really cute except for around the face where they curled a few small pieces far too tight which my dad said made her face look heavier and I thought it made her more resemble a poodle or something. At least for her it was an easy fix. I promised I’d work with it myself and make it look better, since I already had in mind exactly what I was going to do with it. My case was much more dire. I had no idea how to fucking fix this mess that this hairdresser made of my hair, and that was terrifying to me. I’ve always been really opinionated about my hair, and it’s kind of a massive source of my self esteem. When I chopped off twenty inches after graduating high school, I had a minor crisis. So you can only imagine how much this affected me. At least the good thing is that I am a wizard at making bad hair look good and messing with hair. That’s one thing cosplaying Disney princesses has taught me. My Ariel wig was bought on sale at a Halloween store and it took me two hours to tease the bangs and shape them into what they are now. I feel like if you look at it, you’d never guess it was $15 from Spirit. But human hair isn’t like wig hair. It’s softer and has a mind of it’s own. And this was perhaps the most horrifyingly drastic case I had ever been subjected to. I feel blessed to have discovered that my bangs looked better if I parted my hair on the opposite side, even if I hate having to do that. One of the big reasons I part my hair on the right all the time is because I have some really intense dry scalp issues on that side only and when I part my hair on the right, it means it’s easier to cover. Plus both Violet Parr and Rapunzel have their hair parted on the right and it made me happy knowing I did the same. Now that my bangs are completely fucked up, though, I have no choice but to revert to the left. Once I discovered how much better it looked when I did this, though, it made fixing it up a lot easier. The minute I got back to the hotel, I made a beeline for the bathroom with a pair of shitty orange scissors (you know, the kind literally everyone has that are dull and from, like, the 90s) and basically went to town. I brushed my bangs forward so that it would start from the crown and snipped side pieces so that I turned this:

Into this (after I also styled it for the wedding):

I feel really grateful I was able to fix it to where it was at least tolerable but my heart still breaks every time I think about what happened and how it’s still not exactly what I want, even after going at it myself. I might just have to go to a hair dresser somewhere in my town when I get home and ask for layers because I was about to do them myself but then I realized I had no idea what I was doing and I didn’t want to make myself practically bald for the wedding. Curling my hair helped a lot, too, since it made my hair look a little more put together and made my bangs look more like what I intended. My hair, both fixing it and then styling it for the wedding, definitely took the longest out of all of my wedding prep, though. I somehow managed to finish my makeup in, like, ten minutes which I thought was pretty impressive. Once I was finished, I helped my mom with her hair and my dad went down to the lobby to bring my grandparents up so we could load my stuff into their car. We decided that because my parents wanted to go around meeting up with friends and drinking on Sunday, and I’m not legal yet and would be insanely bored, I was going to go home from the reception with my grandparents and spend the day with them instead. The only issue was trying to figure out how to get my stuff into their car since my parents were taking the shuttle to the venue and my grandparents didn’t want to come back to the hotel afterward. We resolved to, obviously, have them stop by our place first, load my stuff into their car, and then we’d all leave. I ended up going with them to the wedding while my parents waited for the shuttle over, rather than them pile in with us and only take the shuttle back. My cousin and her fiance got married at a golf resort which I know sounds weird when you first say it but it really was beautiful. When we entered the lobby, there was a glass table in the center with lanterns and pictures of the happy couple. The employees asked everyone to make their way back to the small bar room so as to not congest the entryway. My dad got him and my mom a beer which they then took to the ceremony with them (but then again, my cousin and her fiance are in the brewery business so I mean, the alcohol was a-flowing). The ceremony took place outside “in the woods”, so to speak. When I first heard that, I was expecting a half mile trek into the deep wilderness with bugs and humidity but instead it was right on the edge of the golf course in front of a relatively thick layer of trees. There was a beautiful little arch made of wood and leaves and they were married by a female minister the fiance knew from his youth group as a kid. It was really a gorgeous wedding and everyone cried. My heart melted when the fiance walked up the aisle already crying, and then my cousin surprised him by walking up the aisle to what was his grandparent’s favorite song. After they were officially married, they and the rest of the bridal party ran off to get formal pictures taken while everyone migrated to a patio for cocktails and hors d’ourves. I didn’t eat anything there mainly because my stomach has been finicky and I didn’t really want to push my luck but it was weird to hear my dad say I could have an alcoholic drink if I wanted to so long as my mom got it for me instead of him (for reasons I‘m not going to delve into). I guess he figures with my turning 21 in a week, he’s cutting me some slack and letting me break the rules a bit since I’m so close. I mean, he let me take sips from an alcohol-filled pineapple last summer, too, so.... But anyways, I resolved not to drink anyways because the idea of breaking the law essentially made me anxious, even if it wasn’t technically a huge problem in this case. Cocktails lasted about an hour, during which one of my aunts and uncles gave me my birthday present early (some money and a really awesome collectible Audrey Hepburn lunchbox which my aunt said she found last summer and hasn’t seen the likes of which since) and then everyone filtered into the ballroom for dinner and dancing. I only did one of the two and that was dinner. We had fancy salads (that were legit greens wrapped in a shred of cucumber and it looked cool as fuck), lemon sherbet for a palette cleanser, filet mignon and shrimp with some roasted veggies and mashed potatoes on what I‘m pretty sure was a mushroom??? And then there was an entire room dedicated to dessert, and tons of pizza was delivered at 10pm because why the fuck not. I only ate a bit of the sherbet and then a good deal of the entree and then stopped there because, again, I didn’t want to test my finicky stomach. I spent the night watching all the important dances like the newlyweds first dance, the father-daughter dance between my cousin and uncle, and my mom twirling around the flower girls. Since I under very few circumstances will ever dance, I expected to be really bored the entire night, as I usually am at weddings. Instead, I ended up having a fantastic time talking with one of my cousins who also cosplays. We ended up out in the hallway having a massive fangirly conversation about our favorite characters, our cosplaying, cartoons, video games. It was great. And truthfully, it was the first time we had ever really actually had a full conversation together. We’re friends on social media and shit, of course, but that’s nothing compared to actual, live conversations. It made the night go by much quicker, and much more enjoyably, to be quite honest. So after that and witnessing party crashers, my “I know my limits” father run by me with cake and ice cream yelling “GET JIMMIES! NOT SPRINKLES, JIMMIES!!”, and the groom hoisted onto someone’s shoulders chugging beer and fist bumping, my grandparents decided it was time to head out and so the three of us said our goodbyes to everyone and started the trek home. It was a 45min drive apparently but it felt way shorter either because it really was, or maybe that’s just what a total of 16 hours in a car previously does to you. But anyways, when we got home, my grandfather unloaded the car and I moved into their guest bedroom and we basically all just went to sleep. If we could even sleep. My allergies have been flaring like crazy lately, probably because the pollen is different here and the trees are still a little bare from winter, so I pretty much slept with a box of tissues in my bed but I mean, whatever. At least I slept at all, you know?

#summer road trip 2018 #ramblings

0 notes

justtwentyonewriters · 7 years

Photo

I Don't Care What's In Your Hair//Josh Dun Xx You smiled softly to yourself, despite having to maneuver up to the venue with bags full of equipment. Though the title “professional tour hairstylist” gives your job no justice. It’s a lot more than brushing hair and applying hairspray (especially when working with Josh and Tyler. Twenty One Princesses would’ve been a more suitable band name. The way they fuss and care for their precious locks made you wonder if there was magic hidden somewhere deep inside the roots). “What. Did. You. Do?!?” You stopped dead, jaw falling as you saw Tyler. His once messy hair was now just stubble. You tried to form words; ask why the sudden change? Why so short? Did you want it? Who did this? But the most you could manage was little heartbroken sounds passing your lips as you stared in fear and heartbreak. You loved your job, it meant bonding with the guys (even though it was totally professional on tour), and making the fans go wild whenever you helped one of them change up their hair. On or off of tour (one of them “coincidentally ” came across your salon and they’ve been frequenting ever since. “Josh let me down. He didn’t watch my haircut closely enough.” Tyler smiled at you, shrugging playfully as he grabbed a couple of your bags. “It was a heat of the moment decision. Go in and get my hair cut. Why bother you? It was your time off anyway.” He sent you a soft smile, obviously trying to make you feel better about him going to someone else. “You’re still my favorite hairstylist. This appointment was awkward and my hair got cut a little shorter than planned.” You merely nodded, thanking him for helping you before he scurried off to sound check. “Why so blue, chicky poo?” A voice spoke up from behind you, causing you to smile widely. You strived to keep things professional; but you couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside when Josh was around. “If this is about Tyler’s hair, I told him he should’ve waited for you.” The drummer laughed, sitting in the chair in front of you. Taking off his hat to mess with the hair underneath. “Your hair is faded.” You fluffed at his pink locks with your fingers. His hair was always so soft. “And the sides are growing out again.” You moved your fingertips to rub lightly against the sides of his head. His eyes closing slowly as you continued—he told you that he liked these silly habits of yours when you first got hired. Something about relaxing him. “We don’t have the time today; but I wouldn’t mind doing a cut and dye for you—if you’d want anyway. So you don’t accidentally turn out like Tyler.” You giggled softly. Removing your fingers from his hair—much to the drummers dismay. “I’d like that. I think we have a day off in the next city.” Josh grinned at you; the silly lopsided grin. It made your heart melt. “It’ll even give my time to think of my next colour.” With that, Josh stood from his chair and made his way out of the room. Stopping at the doorway. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything.” He smiled back at you, before finally leaving the room. Leaving you confused. The guys and crew thanked you before; but never randomly like that. You decided to leave it be, you’d ask Josh later on. Xx “Tyler!” You laughed. Watching as Tyler sat in your chair, gesturing for you to get working. “There’s like nothing here. What do you want me to do? Shine your head?” Your laughter grew harder when he began pretending to fix his hair (like he used to), mumbling something about “when your hair stylist refuses to do her work”. The singer finally gave up, sending you a lighthearted smile before walking over to finish off his stage look. “Y/N. Make me the prettiest drummer of them all.” Josh flopped onto the chair, taking off his hat and shaking the mop out. You are the prettiest drummer of them all… “That’s a tough one. I’m a hair stylist, not a miracle worker.” You giggled softly; cursing at yourself for your prior thought. He is my employer. Employees can’t simply fall for the employer! You held back a sigh as you began attempting to comb through the mess of knots that took over his hair. (It isn’t just naturally fluffy—that’s where your magic came in). Xx The next couple days were slow. Turns out Josh was a bit wrong with dates—it was a week until the guys got a day off, and 4 cities later. You were currently setting up the bathroom for hair dying to take place. Ensuring that the housekeepers wouldn’t get too angry when they came into your bathroom. “Y/N?” Josh called, stepping into the room. Since everyone got 2 keys; Mark took one just in case. Which is why Josh was able to let himself in. “Anything you need help with?” He asked leaning against the doorframe. Watching you intently. “Um yeah; I’ve been meaning to ask. Which colour do you want? I have a bunch in my black bag. The boxes should say which colour is which.” You saw him walk out, as you sighed softly. Why won’t these feelings just go away? “How would yellow look?” Josh popped his head in; holding what had to be the only box of yellow dye in your collection. You never expected anyone to actually want pure yellow hair. But hey,this is Josh. He can work anything. Before you could mentally yell at yourself he was sitting in front of you, opening the box of dye. “You’re going to look like a lemon head. Or banana head. I thought you didn’t like bananas.” Your words coming out at least 3 timed faster than before. You felt your heart beat inside your chest as he began stripping himself of his shirt. It was because he cherished it, and didn’t feel like ruining it with dye. But damn. Stop. Y/N…we talked about this. “You’re awesome though. I know you’ll make me look awesome Y/N. Look at yourself for example.” You arched an eyebrow. Looking down at your outfit. Nothing special; a pair of jeans and a simple shirt. Rather than questioning it, you began doing the drummers hair. The two of you sitting in comfortable silence. “Hey Josh.” You began, stomach tying itself in knots. You couldn’t figure out why you were so nervous. “Earlier; you thanked me. I didn’t do anything for you.” You silently waited for a response—wishing you didn’t come off so awkward. “I thanked you, because you need to hear those words more often. Thank you for everything. The way you refuse to take full payment at home when you do our hair. The way you joke around and calm us down before shows. The way you brought the crew together more closely. Everything you’ve done in the 2 years you’ve worked with us have been amazing. Except one thing.” He sighed. Something obviously tearing his mind apart. When you stopped applying the dye to his hair, heart breaking by the second. You had done one thing that hurt him this much. “You made me fall hopelessly in love with you.” Josh sighed. You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. So you stayed quiet—feeling horrible for breaking the drummers heart. I’m a monster.. Xx “Y/N!” Tyler called—you were currently walking down to the local Taco bell to grab lunch for everyone. “What happened to Josh? He was fine until the day you two hung out.” You knew he was less than impressed for what you evoked in Josh. He was less excited for shows, putting less energy in—and the fans were slowly noticing. You had gotten tweets asking what happened, and you knew everyone else did too. “Hey. Are you paying attention?” You could hear the agitation in his voice, even through how hard he tried to hide it. You hurt his best friend in unexplainable ways. “When we were doing his hair he said he loved me.” You mumbled. Opening the restaurant door. You followed Tyler to the counter; listening as he placed the group order. Obviously trying to decipher what you said. The two of you waited in thought-filled silence. Walked most of the way back in a resentful silence. “I didn’t say it back. I don’t want to damage the business relationship over emotions.” You sighed. Holding back tears as the two of you stood in front of the venue. “This is the best job I’ve ever had; I can’t risk it.” You whimpered. Watching in hurt as Tyler let out a sharp sigh. “Then maybe you shouldn’t be here. You ruined him Y/N; and for what? To feel professional.” You felt the tears run down your cheeks as Tyler walked inside. It took a lot to make him agitated; and you managed to go above and beyond that. Which is why you stayed outside. Sitting against the back of the venue softly sobbing. You lost your dream job because you tried to save it. How ironic? Xx A month and a half had passed since you were laid off the Twenty One Pilots tour. You wiped your tears, stood up and continued on though. Leaving the heartbreak of the situation in the past. Leaving the drummer that you loved so much there too. Nobody from the crew spoke a word to you after you left. “Hi, I have an appointment with Y/N.” A blonde woman walked up to the counter, giving you a soft smile. “My boyfriend and his friend recommended you by name.” You arched an eyebrow. Quietly wondering who would recommend you? Specifically you? The only people who would left you when you got fired. “Well I hope I live up to what they say.” You softly chuckled, getting to work on cutting the woman’s hair. It went by quite quickly; casual conversation the whole time until: “They regret it. Both of them do. Tyler feels horrible for what he said and Josh just isn’t the same. He refuses to let anyone touch his hair.” You held back a sigh. “I’m Jenna by the way. Tyler’s girlfriend. And uh this is for you.” She handed you a paper before paying. Saying she would definitely be back next time she needed her hair done. Xx You wish you could say that the paper Jenna gave you was out of sight out of mind for the remainder of your work day—but sadly that was not the case. It never left your mind. So right when you got to your car—you read it over. Part of it was an apology from Tyler—it looked almost like a song. He was always poetic. Then on the bottom of the page, in messy writing read: I miss you—let’s catch up sometime. -J It was followed by his phone number. You pulled your phone out, saving his number and trying to get the courage to type him a message. You pushed your fears aside and quickly typed. An answer came almost immediately. He was in town so you would be meeting him at Taco bell for supper. Xx “Y/N.” Josh stood from the table, smiling at you as you walked in. “It’s been a while.” He commented, looking you up and down as you did the same. His hair was a reasonable amount longer. His brown roots poking out. The two of you ended up in tight embrace. Both holding on for dear life. “I know you probably forgot about the feelings…but I love you. I love you.” You softly whispered. Fighting tears as he held you tight. “I’ve never stopped loving you. Give it a chance, please?” Josh whispered, looking down at you. You nodded excitedly. Maybe the world was on your side after all. “I’m not screwing up this time. I need you Y/N.” You softly started giggling, confusing a very nervous Josh. “We just had a romantic moment in the middle of Taco Bell.”

#josh dun #josh dun imagine #tyler joseph #twenty øne piløts #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots imagine #request

107 notes · View notes

raisingsupergirl · 3 years

Text

What Health Class Didn't Teach You About Life After 20

I remember the first time I realized I was getting "older." I had just turned twenty-five. I'd planted my right foot during a pick-up game of basketball, slipped on a wet spot on the floor, and felt a pop in my right hip. Self-diagnosed labral tear. No need for surgery, but it did click and pinch and frequently remind me that I wasn't as invincible as I once was. Shortly after that, I hurt my left knee—self-diagnosed meniscus tear. Also more of a nuisance than anything, but also a good reminder of my mortality. Then there was the back, the neck, the creeping weight-gain, the creeping hair loss, and the general creeping dread of my impending death... eventually. And never—not ONCE—did someone sit me down and warn me about all of this garbage. No advice on how to process it, overcome it, or even come to terms with it. So this is me, warning all of you twenty-and-thirty-somethings out there about what's to come. So listen up!

First off, there's the orthopedic stuff—all of the hip and knee and back issues that would have completely wrecked my future if I hadn't been a physical therapist. I've never had great insurance or money to burn on a bunch of fancy-pants doctors. The hip and knee things I might have ignored. But I also might have tried "working through it" too early, which would have only made things worse (possibly to the point of needing surgery). But the neck and the back? Those were two weight-lifting injuries that happened in quick succession that absolutely floored me. Like, literally. I couldn't get off of the floor because of pain. And even with my education and experience, I still allowed the injury to happen due to incorrect exercise form and habits. And there was a short time after the injury that I was doing the exact WRONG thing, making the herniated disc in my neck much worse. To the point that I ALMOST needed surgery for that one. And most people would have ended up there. It took over a year of rehab to get back to (mostly) pain-free, and there aren't many people who would have held out hope for that long.

So, my advice when it comes to acquired injuries? Be your own advocate. Take responsibility for your body. Remember that you only get one, and it's worth the time and effort to educate yourself on the best ways to take care of it. Ask a health professional friend (sorry, I'm busy). Make an appointment with a doctor who specialized in your injury, but also remember that most such specialists are surgeons, so their mind will usually gravitate toward surgery as the best option. It might be, but maybe also ask a physical therapist. Ask a chiropractor. And only AFTER you've asked enough professionals should you ask Google (unless you want to be told you have cancer literally every time). Then use all of that information like a grown adult. Write it all down. Compare and contrast the diagnoses and treatment options. Consider your needs regarding finances, recovery time, and desired outcomes. But remember: you only get one body. Any injury you decide to "live with" could potentially just keep getting worse until you stop living. And finally, above all else—no… wait. I'll tell you the most important thing a little later. First, let's talk about the OTHER stuff nobody ever warned me about.

The Great Hair Migration. It's a thing. It gathers on your head when you're young, but then it gets too tired to climb to the top. Instead, it starts sprouting out of your ears, your nose, your back... pretty much everywhere EXCEPT your head. Your mileage may vary, but it happens to everyone to some extent. For me, it started out as a receding hairline in my mid-twenties. The thing is, it happened so slowly that I doubted its existence. A wispy white hair here. Some more shiny forehead there. Then one day someone complimented my comb-over, and my life was over. Dead. Gray hair was one thing (even kind of cool in some ways). Going bald was another matter entirely. It's been over a decade since then, and the thinning has continued. Recently, I considered Rogaine or Propecia, but the former is too much work for no guaranteed results, and the latter is too much money with some, uh, undesirable potential side-effects. Then there's all the organic and alternative treatments that have little to no efficacy with plenty of dollar signs attached. No thanks. So, if I'm not going to recommend medical intervention, what IS my advice? Cut your hair. The shorter, the better. It looks less like a comb-over, and when the time comes that you have to start shaving it, it won't be as much of a shocker. Unless you're a woman. In which case, you CAN shave it, but maybe look into a nice wig first. Oh, and then there's the best advice... but I'm still saving that for later. First...

Belly flab! Back flab! Butt flab! Where does this stuff come from? Cheeseburgers, that's where. And cookies. And chocolate cake. Heck, even protein smoothies and chicken breasts are to blame. Calories in > calories out = weight gain. That's science. When you burn less calories than you shovel down your throat, your body stores the excess "energy" in fat cells. You know, just in case you need to tap into those fat reserves to survive a harsh winter or whatever. Evolution definitely hasn't kept up with 1st-world probs. But I'm not going to complain too much. I'm not overweight. Never have been. But I AM human. And like all humans, my metabolism started slowing down in my twenties—because we all basically start dying after puberty, and a part of that is slower processing and utilization of energy because dying people don't need as much fuel (which is also why we don't need as much recovery sleep and why we don't have that youthful energy forever). Yay!

So I started gaining weight. My new "normal" went from 170 lbs to 180 lbs. Then 190. Then I broke 200. Then I broke down. I learned that a dozen cookies right before bed would float around in my body all night until I tucked them away in my fat cells. I learned that a little bit of exercise (especially anything that builds muscle) goes a LONG way. And I learned that there's a certain point when eating thirty hot wings in one sitting is no longer a wise life choice. My advice? Nothing new. Exercise consistently (without herniating a disc in your neck) and appreciate WHAT you're eating, not how MUCH you're eating. Enjoying things in moderation actually improves your appreciation for them. At least, it does for me. And, of course, there's that most important piece of advice that it's almost time for. After we talk about...

Complete and utter decline of mental health because of ALL THE THINGS. I joke, but there's so much truth to this as we ease from childhood structure to adult freedom. Yes, adults are free (until we create our own prisons). As kids, our lives are fairly linear. Sure, we all had hobbies and preferences, but for the most part, we have one goal for the first eighteen years of our lives—learn what we're supposed to learn so we can avoid punishment and graduate from high school. For some of us, that structured bliss continues for a few more years. But eventually, we're all cut loose into the wild blue.

We can do literally ANYTHING (well, not "literally," but, yeah, anyway). Sure, there are some social norms to give us a little framework. Jobs, spouses, kids, taxes, retirement plans. But what's our PURPOSE? Why did we work so hard for those diplomas? How are we going to leave our marks on humanity and history? Do we NEED to leave marks? Is everything meaningless? Or just the things that OTHER people care about? Thankfully, humans are pretty good at assigning value to mundane things, and if we go about it the right way, we might even find some things that TRULY matter. So, what's my super-profound advise that you've all been waiting for? What's the secret to aging gracefully and finding the meaning of life?

Honestly? I have no idea... But only because I'm not you. I know what's worked for me, but that's because I know myself better than anyone. So my best advice has been there all along: look at yourself in the mirror and embrace your own unique changes. Embrace the customized adventures and challenges created just for you. Find your own answers and your own way in your own time. Don't expect someone else to hand them to you (especially not in a blog post). Don't bury your questions and fears. Don't drown them with self-medication or temporary distractions or someone else's ideas of success. And don't assume it's just a phase. Because it's not. It's your life.

Come to terms with the fact that you WILL acquire some injuries that can't be fixed. You WILL gain some weight. You WILL lose some hair. You won't be as clever as you once were, and you'll wake up some mornings wondering what the purpose of everything is. And, of course, you'll eventually die. We're not MEANT to live forever. Ultimately, something will end us no matter how hard we try to beat everything back. And if we only focus on living as LONG as we can, we'll forget to live as WELL as we can. And living "well" probably won't look the same for you as it does for someone else. To be honest, it's not the end of the world if you never run that marathon or beat those punks at basketball. Heck, it doesn't even really matter if you never have kids or find a cure for cancer. Rather, those things don't have any INTRINSIC value. Who cares if the human race dies off? Do you think anything else will really miss us?

So what DOES matter? Well, whatever you assign value to. Whatever you take the time to contemplate, plan, and dedicate yourself to. If that thing is a lush head of hair, start popping Propecia like your life depends on it (I wouldn't recommend that life path, but who am I to judge?). If it's commitment to a loving God (a path that I WOULD recommend, but again, you do you, boo), start keeping an eye out for every opportunity to truly listen to others and share the Good News with them. But mostly, don't get so hung up on the fact that you're dying. It's really not a big deal unless you MAKE it a big deal. Instead, focus on life. It looks a little different to all of us, and every day is a different gift. Enjoy each and every one in all of its broken, wrinkly, chaotic glory.

And don't say I didn't warn ya.

#aging gracefully #middle aged #life after 20 #aging process #orthopedic injuries #hair loss #weight loss #exercise #life advice #mental health #adult wellness #dadblr #momblr #mumblr

0 notes