#i was so sad when naya rivera died | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flutistbyday2020 · 4 years

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If I Die Young

A one shot based off the song, “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry (but I recommend the cover by Naya Rivera).

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader, Dean x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak. Pretty PG 13.

Hunters don’t die from old age or natural causes.

They die from wounds, during a hunt gone wrong, self-sacrifice, or a bar brawl turned nasty.

They definitely don’t die from cancer, and they definitely don’t die at twenty-seven.

So, when you had a bruise that just refused to heal, you didn’t think anything of it, but Sammy insisted that you go to the doctors.

[[MORE]]

You took your fake ID and your fake insurance cards and sat in the waiting room, your small, clammy hand in Sam’s sure, large one.

Your leg bounced nervously. You hated the doctors. You hated hospitals. You hated feeling trapped.

“YN,” Sam chided gently.

Your leg’s movement ceased.

“It’ll be okay,” Dean encouraged.

You shot a glare to the elder Winchester brother.

“Jordan?” A nurse called.

Sam and Dean stood before you realized you were Jordan.

The nurse smiled at you and your boys as you went through the door that separated the waiting room and the exam rooms.

She made you get on the scale, she made you stand against the wall to get your height— you were short and the brothers never let you forget it. She sat you down on the exam table before she took your vitals.

The nurse asked standard questions and you answered. Dean blushed when she asked if you could be pregnant. You snorted.

The nurse left and the doctor came. “Jordan?” She asked and you nodded. “I’m Dr. Lexi Grey.”

They took vials and vials of blood— Sam held your hand and kept your eyes focused on him and not the needles.

They took X-Rays and MRIs and every other scan in the book.

It took almost three weeks to get the results back.

Cancer.

You laughed at the irony of a perfectly healthy twenty-seven year old getting cancer. Stage four cancer.

“Six good months if we don’t do chemo or maybe eighteen if we do chemo,” Dr. Grey said.

“We can do chemo—” Sam had started.

“You’re still young—” Dean had said.

You shut them down. You weren’t going to fight it. Your grandfather had died from cancer and you didn’t recognize the man in the coffin by the end of the ordeal.

“Not happenin, boys,” you said.

Not long after your diagnosis, you began feeling the effects. You were tired, all the time. You didn’t have an appetite most of the time. You lost weight.

But you were still happy.

Sam and Dean unconsciously took on less and less, spending more time with you.

You traveled just to travel.

The first place you went? The World’s Largest Ball of Twine.

It was a three hour drive from the bunker and you bounced with anticipation the whole way there.

“This is what you wanted to see?” Dean asked, hands on hips, watching Sammy very carefully take a picture of you.

You stood in front of the ball, arms outstretched and a goofy smile on your face.

You humored Sam, too. He wanted to visit the historical town of Lindsborg, so the three of you drove there, all singing along to classic rock the whole time.

But your favorite place that you visited? That was the Boot Hill Museum in Dodge City.

Dean dressed up like a cowboy and participated in a fake shoot-out.

He bought you a hat that said “World’s Cutest Cowgirl” and you proudly wore it.

You had hundreds of pictures from these trips and you insisted on making a scrapbook.

Dean complained on the outside, but you knew he’d do anything to make you happy.

Sammy was awfully adept at decoupage.

“When I die, I’ll turn into a rainbow. That way you’ll know I’m in heaven,” you said one night during dinner. “That way you’ll know I’m safe.” You nodded in affirmation at your statement.

The cancer was spreading. You could feel it in your soul.

So you made your boys— Cas included— eat one big meal with you once a week.

Dean tried to lighten the mood. “Who says you’re going to heaven?”

“I did,” Cas deadpanned, glaring at Dean as if it were stupid to think anything else would happen to your soul.

That made Sam laugh and you smile.

It made Dean glare.

“I don’t want you to die,” Dean said after he’d snuck into your bedroom way past what could be considered a decent hour.

He had been crying and his cheeks were still wet.

You didn’t say anything. You just held your arms out.

He accepted your embrace and you cried and together.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always have. Was too stupid and too scared to say anything. But now—”

You cut him off with a kiss. “Now we have to face the music.”

Dean spent every night with you after that.

“I want a hunter’s funeral, obviously,” you said.

Sam and Dean had fought this— they didn’t want to plan your funeral.

“But I want my ashes spread at sea. And you have to sing to me!” Tears sprung from your eyes.

“Of course,” Sammy said.

“What song?” Dean asked.

“‘Hey Jude’, please,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “At dawn.”

“Put on your fed suits.” You were rambling now. “Throw my pearls into the ocean.”

“What happens when I die?” You asked Cas.

“Your soul will separate from your body. I expect that Tessa will be your reaper,” Castiel explained in his gravelly voice. “Tessa will take you to the threshold and I will greet you there. I will take you to heaven.”

“What’s heaven like?”

“It’s different for everyone. For Ash, it’s the roadhouse. For Bobby, it’s watching the boys grow up before they were truly hunters. It’s your best memories, over and over.”

“Oh.”

Your mother visited you in your dreams. “I’ll collect you in sixty days’ time.”

“Dean,” you said the next night after passionate love making.

“Yeah, Princess?”

“I wanna get married. Next week.”

Dean threw his head back in laughter. “Of course.”

“And I wanna drive Baby.”

Dean laughed again. “Okay.”

The wedding was small and haphazard and perfect. Sammy was the best man and Castiel was the maid of honor, much to his chagrin.

You bought a short, white dress from a second hand store and the boys wore their Fed suits.

You bought a cheap bouquet from the nearest florist and went barefoot. You had your grandmother’s pearls around your neck.

Castiel was kind enough to transport you to a private beach for the ceremony.

Dean cried, just a little.

You could feel the beginning of the end two weeks before your mother said she’d be there.

“This is it,” you told your boys at the weekly meal.

Everyone cried, including Cas.

You spent your last week in a special hospital bed— you were in pain and needed an IV for the pain meds. Dean helped you go to the bathroom as much as he could.

Your eyes were heavy and you couldn’t fight it.

“I love you, Dean, Sammy. So much.”

Sammy kissed your forehead and Dean kissed your lips.

You fell into slumber and neither of your boys left you until your body was cold.

When you opened your eyes, you were separated from your body. You watched the scene before you.

Dean carefully laid your body on the pyre— the one that you and he had constructed. Therapy you called it.

Sammy lit a match and tossed it.

They watched until the flames burned out and Dean fell asleep outside.

Tessa didn’t say a word— she just touched your arm and you followed her into the light.

As promised, Castiel was there. You threw your arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

He returned the affection.

When you entered heaven, you didn’t know what to expect.

You were wearing your wedding dress and you could feel your wedding band on your left hand.

You heard a voice you thought you’d never hear again.

“YN!” Bobby boomed.

“Bobby?” You cried.

You ran to him and threw your arms around him. Tears fell freely from your eyes and sobs fell freely from your lips.

“I know, YN. But they’ll be here before you know it.”

Bobby held you until the tears subsided.

“I’ll visit you often,” Castiel promised as he turned.

You jogged to catch up with him. It was easy because you didn’t need to breathe now.

“Cas, how do I make a rainbow? I promised Sam and— and Dean I’d let them know I was safe.”

Cas nodded for you to follow him. He walked until there was a clearing in the cloud and it felt like you were dropping, but Cas was flying your soul down to earth.

Dean and Sam were collecting your cremains from the pyre and Dean was clutching your pearls.

“I’ll open the clouds,” Cas started, “and you’ll use the purity of your soul to refract the light from the sun. Focus on Dean.”

The clouds separated and you closed your eyes. You could feel the sun moving through you. When you opened your eyes, there was a rainbow that shined on your boys. No, you shined on your boys. You were the rainbow.

Dean fell to his knees and cried. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he choked out.

You visited Sam and Dean when they drove to the ocean. They found a secluded cliff to spread your ashes.

Castiel made sure the wind blew toward the ocean.

He landed next to Dean.

Dean turned and pulled Cas into a hug.

“Thank you for being here.”

“YN is here, too,” Cas said, pointing to where your soul was.

Dean turned and you focused on making yourself into a rainbow again.

Sam chuckled. “Hey, YN. Miss you.”

Dean walked closer to your rainbow and reached out to touch it—you.

When his fingers touched your colors, you gasped. You could feel his fingers.

The rainbow was solid—no, you were solid. Dean laughed when his fingers didn’t move through the light.

“Miss you, sweetheart.”

He placed a kiss at where he thought your forehead should be and turned.

He opened the bag of your cremains and began singing.

“Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better.”

Sammy and Cas joined.

“Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.”

Dean turned the bag and your ashes spread in the wind. Tears rolled down his face.

Sammy grabbed his shoulder and he cried, too.

“Hey Jude, don't let me down

She has found you, now go and get her

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

Better, better, better.”

“Na, na, na, na, na-na-na na

Whoo-ooh-oh

Hey Jude, hey Jude

Hey Jude, make it, make it

Make it, Jude

Oh, Jude.”

When Dean died, Castiel came to you immediately. “I had to pull some strings— I owe Naomi— but Dean will be here soon.”

You ran to the gates and waited impatiently.

Tessa could barely keep up with Dean because of how fast he was running.

“Y/N!” He called when he saw you.

You ran to him and he picked you up in a tight hug. He squeezed you hard before he began kissing you.

It had been five years, and damn, did you miss those lips.

“Hey Cas? Can you get pregnant in heaven?” You asked. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt pregnant.

“Y/N, you were pregnant when you died. Now that your soulmate is here, the baby will grow and age until they are eighteen, then stop growing.”

Dean almost shit himself.

When Sammy died eight months later, Dean had felt it. He waited by the gates, holding you in a casual embrace.

Sammy pulled you into a bearhug and wrestled Dean to the ground.

“Momma?” A small voice called.

Sam’s eyes snapped up— Bobby—Bobby Singer— was holding a child that looked exactly like Dean.

“I was pregnant when I died,” you explained.

Sam shook his head and pulled Bobby into an amended bear hug.

“Who’s this?” He asked as he took the child from his stand in dad.

“I’m Mary!” The little girl exclaimed. “And you’re my uncle Sammy!” The girl wrapped her arms around Sam’s neck.

Yep, he was a goner.

Dean had died a hunter— scarified himself for Sammy. Sammy had died a hunter— hunt turned nasty. So it didn’t matter that you died a civvy way, as Dean joked.

But who cared?

You had your boys and your best girls and that’s all you needed in your forever.

**************

(Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my future Spn one-shots!)

Tagging my permas.

@glaimtruelovealways

@drakewalker04

@kimmiedoo5

@imthequeenofcordonia

@texaskitten30

@dcbbw

@cordonia-gothqueen

@custaroonie

@shz256

@hopefulmoonobject

@sanchita012 2

@bebepac

@ac27dj

@we-lazystudent

@losingbraincellseveryday

@mom2000aggie

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fan fic #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #flutistbyday writes

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reelperspective · 4 years

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I’m generally not the type to mourn celebrity deaths. It’s usually beyond me to truly mourn the passing of someone who is so completely removed from my life. I tend to reserve grief for personal losses. I would say that is still true - I don’t know if you could call what I’m feeling grief, but it’s definitely something akin to it.

When I heard that Naya Rivera had passed away in a drowning accident, I thought “my god that sucks. That glee cast is cursed or something.” Then I moved on with my life, as one does. I felt it in the moment because Santana was my favorite character (well her and Brittany), but I didn’t dwell on it. I hadn’t seen the show in years, so I felt removed from it.

Months later, I go down a YouTube recommended video rabbit hole and end up watching the Glee version of Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide. I’d always loved that cover of the song. From the moment I first heard it, I thought it was beautifully arranged and flawlessly executed, but I digress. The point is, after watching it, I started watching other Glee videos (again, recommended videos). At a certain point I thought, “fuck it, I haven’t seen this show in years. Maybe it’s time for a re-watch.” So, I started to binge watch it. It is just as hilarious and awesome as the first time. And again, just as the first time, Santana proved to be my favorite character.

I think that Santana was the most emotionally complex character on that show. I think she had a great arc as a character that started off not being very sympathetic at all, to becoming a character that people could really relate to and root for. She had a fascinating duality to her as the bully who sometimes had a heart. Her love for Brittany added a significant layer to her character - displaying a side of her that had previously been unseen. A side reserved only for Brittany- the exception to her rule. Which is remarkable because, being that she was an idiot, Brittany should have been an easy target for Santana’s ridicule. Later, Santana reveals in a rant against Rory the Irishman, that she believes Brittany to be beautiful, innocent, and “everything good in this miserable, stinking world.” This revelation spoke to the heart of the character because it showed that despite her blatantly “Evil” characteristics, what Santana truly values most is goodness and purity of spirit. Brittany was the only person Santana never insulted. You could say that this is because she loved Brittany. That’s a factor, for sure, but I think the main reason is that even she couldn’t tear down someone so innocent. This, and other instances of vulnerability, developed Santana into a more three dimensional character - someone real, rather than just the caricature of a mean girl.

Yes, it’s true that the writers can be credited for this nuance in her character, but I believe it can be argued that Naya highlighted these nuances flawlessly. She did a beautiful job of portraying Santana’s *reluctant* displays of humanity. Not to mention how fucking talented she was when it came to the singing and the dancing. Vocally she’s top three along with Amber Riley and Lea Michele - and she’s a better dancer than either of them.

I noticed all of these things during this recent re-watch of mine. I’d always enjoyed Santana’s viscious barbs and her scathing wit, but this time I gained a deeper appreciation of the character as well.

Why am I talking about the character when this post started off being about grief? Well, watching the show again really drove home what a goddamn tragedy it is for the world to lose someone so talented and hilarious. This feeling drove me to look into Naya as a person. I listened to her audio book, and I read what people have said about her, and the general consensus is that she was an all-around amazing individual. She was Kind but sassy, tough yet compassionate, funny and intelligent. I then watched some of her interviews, and her personality was positively magnetic. She always lead with a blunt honesty that she delivered with this matter-of-fact attitude and wry wit. She owned up to things that most people in her position would hide. Despite the bluntness, she never seemed tacky or crass. Then to add to these revelations is the observation that she so clearly loved her little son with a tremendous passion. I’m sure all celebrities love their children more than life itself, but most don’t speak out about it specifically or so frequently. Naya, on many occasions, spoke of her passion for motherhood, and how much it meant to her to be Josey’s mom. With all of the things she has accomplished, she credited her son as her greatest success. Topics that get repeated across many conversations tend to be subjects that the speaker is fairly obsessed with. It is clear that her son was her whole world. He was not only her responsibility and her greatest love, but also her greatest source of joy. I’m not surprised that she somehow found a way to save him even though she couldn’t save herself.

Which leads to the final straw on the camel’s back - the manner in which she died. As was mentioned previously, she saved her son - which kicks you right in the feels. He had to witness some of her final moments - kick #2. Then there’s the tragedy of the circumstances of the death itself. Drowning is a horrific way to die. She must have been so terrified in her final moments. To add to this is the fact that had any of a number of events transpired differently, she’d still be with us today. Had she not gone to the lake that day. Had she gone with at least one other adult. Had she not jumped out of the boat. Had she worn a life vest. Had the boat had an anchor and a ladder attached to It’s side.

Then I’m confused about how this all went down. Apparently, she was sucked under the water by a current - I guess the equivalent of an undertow - but I thought undertows only happened in the ocean! Considering that this is a lake - a man made one at that- and not a river or an ocean, where the fuck did this incredibly strong underwater current come from? A lake is pretty much stagnant water, is it not? I looked at a map of it, and from what I can tell, there are no rivers feeding into this lake. So, I’m confused and this death is not only tragic, but senseless.

It’s just so fucking sad - every which way you look at it. I feel it in my very soul, and as I said before, I never feel celebrity deaths like this. I can’t stop thinking about her poor child having to grow up without his mommy. I lost someone as a child, and it left an enormous hole in my heart. I remember feeling so profoundly and absolutely destroyed. There are no words to describe the depths of my despair, and I can’t help but think that Josey is feeling that now. Though I was older than he is - I don’t know how much his young mind can make sense of or process the reality of his mother’s death. I know for sure that he is feeling it - he will miss her forever. Ryan Dorsey, his father, released a statement in which he said that he had to explain to his son that his mother was in heaven, and Josey asked him how he could go there too so that he could be with her. That just breaks my heart - I know exactly how he feels. I can’t stop thinking about Naya’s mother and how she collapsed on the dock at Lake Piru and threw her hands out in a display of pure, all-consuming grief. As I’ve said, I’ve felt grief like that before. I’ve collapsed to my knees under the weight of it. So, I feel for her family and her friends. I saw an interview in which the actress who played Santana’s abuela says that Heather Morris was so distraught, she wanted to jump into the lake to search for Naya herself.

I also feel a keen sense of loss for all of the wonderful things she will never do, all of the hilarious things she had yet to say, and all of the characters she might have been destined to bring to life with a singular authenticity. Lastly, and least importantly, I feel this keenly because she and I are the same age. The reality of such a thing just slaps one in the face.

That being said, I keep having these moments of cognitive dissonance as I’m watching the show. I feel her loss so much, yet it seems like she’s not dead. She can’t be! Look at her. Look at how full of life she is. She’s so young. That can’t be the reality - but alas, it is. I keep remembering that it is, and the cycle of emotion starts up all over again.

I know that part of the reason for my deep feelings about this tragedy has to do with my own experience with loss. I’ve lost so many people in my lifetime - some of which, I’ve loved more than life itself. At least one of which, I had wanted to follow into the grave because I could not fathom my life without her in it - it just hurt too much.

So I lay this all out here on tumblr. It is very likely that no one will ever read it, and that’s okay. I just needed to express it anyway as it has been building up inside of me.

#naya rivera #naya rivera son #naya rivera death #gleek #glee #heather morris

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tuiyla · 3 years

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Hi! Not active in the Glee fandom, but you’re one of the few Glee accounts I still follow and I was just wondering something.

I was an avid Naya Rivera fan, her character Santana was the first lesbian I had seen on Television, and to say that she changed my life is such an understatement. I followed her work after Glee, I followed her through the good and bads, and when she was receiving awful hate, I stuck by her and spent my free time defending her from online psychos.

Her passing put me in a horrible, depressive place. She was my favorite actress/celebrity, the only person I was invested in on a personal level. When she died, the void was empty and I feel like I really hung onto Jenna, who is now the actress I keep up with the most. I think a lot of it has to do with how much she did after Naya’s passing, it all felt so comforting. Seeing her be the one to constantly post little pictures of Naya on her story, the work she put into setting up tributes, how she spoke to the fans with her grief. It

I guess I’m just wondering if anyone has a similar experience? Or if this is just weird? Like, forming an attachment to a cast member due to the death of another cast member.

Hey Anon!

I want you to know that, while I'm really sorry to hear you were/are in a bad place because of Naya's passing, it's perfectly valid to feel that way. Parasocial relationships are important to recognize as such but that doesn't mean the grief you and many, many, many others around the world have felt isn't real. It really sucks and there's such a sense of unfairness in this tragedy. I myself was surprised to find that I really was grieving for her, especially because it was only after last July that I truly got into Glee and read up more about Naya and the rest of the cast.

She's changed so many lives and like you say even that is an understatement; I don't think it can ever properly be expressed just how much her portrayal of Santana and her off-screen advocacy meant. I think it's really sweet that following Jenna more closely helped fill that void even if only a little bit, it's definitely not weird and hey, if it makes you feel better then please do take as much comfort in her posts about Naya as you can. I have a massive amount of respect for Jenna: not only does she seem like such a dignified person in general (after all that she's had to put up with on the Glee set) but like you I took comfort in her efforts to remember Naya's legacy. She was a key organizer of Snixxmas and it filled my heart with such joy when I found out she was the one who reached out to GLAAD about the tribute.

So just to reiterate, it's not weird at all. Take comfort in whatever you can, whether that's following what Jenna's doing or rewatching Santana performances on a loop, or really just whatever. Like I said it's a genuine sense of grief that accompanies celebrity deaths - I mean, they're people too, with loved ones and a body of work that has meant something to people.

Sorry to go all PSA at the end here but as a disclaimer, obviously there's a healthy line there as well like with all parasocial relationships, so putting all we have into a single celebrity to the detriment of our "real lives" is of course crossing that line. But that's not to say you can't feel sad about Naya and truly grieve her passing, or that forming an attachment to people like Jenna who loved her and keep her memory alive is also necessarily crossing it. At the end of the day just do what's best for you, take comfort even in the little things and take a step back when you feel like it's getting too much. I really appreciate that you shared this with me, my inbox is always open to any and all random thoughts or if you feel like you need help.

#anon #ask #anonymous #naya rivera #glee #jenna ushkowitz #it's tough anon i know but you're doing great and coping the best you can #also idk how to feel about being a glee account haha #i guess? happy to be your source of glee!#it's mostly santana and wailing about pezberry #glee asks

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romance-incubomp3 · 4 years

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I know Glee is one of those shows/fandoms deemed “cringey”, but if anyone out there is saying shit like “ew I hate Glee” in regards to Naya Rivera’s disappearance, fuck you. It really does not matter how you feel about Glee or the fandom, there is a real woman out there with friends and family and a lot of fans who are scared and sad because she has been missing. I remember when Anton Yelchin was killed there were people saying “oh well the Star Trek reboots sucked” (I even saw someone say they were glad he died because they hated the reboot movies) as if that has ANYTHING to do with someone dying. Actual human lives are so much more important than your feelings about a piece of pop culture. I’ve never watched Glee but going through Naya’s tag to read about what’s been going on there are so many people who she had a massive impact on. There’s millions of people grieving right now who are scared and upset and in pain over this, and to anyone out there making this situation about your dislike of a tv show, you’re a terrible person.

#i hope everyone is doing okay right now and i hope that she is too #naya rivera #death mention/

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timenottwasted · 4 years

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This is going to be tough, but here we go.

The reason I got a tumblr in the first place, was, simply put, because of Naya Rivera. I had just recently started Glee with a friend and I was immediately enamored by her. I was in high school, had a lot of free time, and spent the next few weeks catching up on all that I had missed so I could watch on TV with everyone else. But, I found myself constantly rewinding Naya’s clips; laughing at her lines and memorizing her performances. I related to her. At the time, I don’t think I truly knew the full-scope of why, but I knew that I did. I would come on tumblr and scroll through “#nayarivera” or “#santanalopez” for hours.

Her character made me feel something that I had never felt before, ever. She made me feel visible. Like someone finally saw me, for me. I related to her quick-wit, her constantly resorting to comedy— be it because she didn’t want to feel or she was feeling to much, and pretty much everything she did in between. Naya made her character everything I felt like I was. She was hard on the outside, but soft on the inside, and she felt everything deeply and passionately.

When her story line morphed into one about discovering her sexuality, I had a brief moment of panic. Soon, it absolved into something I could only describe as englightnement. She helped me understand parts of myself that, up until that point, I was petrified to admit.

Eventually, despite the hardcore fan that I was, I stopped watching. Never finished past the fourth season. I was growing up and moving on, and just wasn’t into it anymore. But I couldn’t let go of Naya for some reason. She felt like a part of me, if that makes sense. Even though I didn’t know her, it felt like she played such an integral part of my formative years. So, even though I was letting go of Glee, I couldn’t let go of her. I continued following her on social media, keeping up with her career, and rewatching some of my favorite moments of hers. I felt so much joy watching her transition into a new part of her life post-Glee. She seemed happy, and that made me happy. When she had her son, you could see the joy radiating off of her. Without ever being around her, you could just tell she was meant to be a mom. Her recent posts were full of so much happiness and love, it made me miss seeing her on TV, watching her sing and laugh. So, two weeks ago, I decided to start Glee all over. Figured it would give me a little seratonin boost with everything going on in the world.

When the news broke last week, the first thing I felt was numb. No tears, no panic... it was just complete and utter shock. I didn’t want to believe that there was even the slightest possibility that she was gone. I read the words “missing” and “presumed” and.... I held on to them. As horrible as they were, it was better than the alternative, harsh, and definitive reality that Naya Rivera could be dead. So, all week, I prayed. I combed through Twitter and news outlets obsessively to give me some slivers of hope. But every passing day it got worse. I was fighting back and forth with myself—— no updates means she still has a chance, but no updates also means her chances are getting more bleak. In the end, I decided on holding out hope until the very last second. Even after the news broke that they found a body this morning. I tried to tell myself that there was still a chance.

But if I’m being honest with myself, I knew. And I couldn’t come to terms with it. Quite honestly, I’m writing this post because I’m still struggling to. I got the confirmation that Naya was gone while I was at work today. Everything started moving in slow motion, and that’s when I really started to panic. I made an excuse that I had to run to the bathroom, and I ran. Right out of the room. I was alone, and it had never felt more painfully obvious than that before. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. A million thoughts were running through my mind and it felt as though I was trying to navigate a minefield. I thought of her beautiful son, her family and friends, her millions of fans, all of the memories that she left behind and those she would miss out on making....... and selfishly, I thought of myself. I thought of how I got there and why I was feeling the way that I was.

It felt like a small piece of who I am, died today. And I know, it sounds dramatic. Painfully so. I’m not an over-the-top person. I wasn’t running fan accounts or messaging her everyday. I wasn’t doing anything, which is kind of my point. I was just simply enjoying being in a world where Naya was existing at the same time I was. It brought me comfort having her as a constant. I would see posts on Instagram of her smiling and loving life and I was reminded of why I loved her so much in the first place, and what little impacts she had on me along the way. I never thought there would be a time where we didn’t exist together, apart.

And now we’re here. She’s gone, forever, and I’m trying to understand. Naya presumably has no clue the profound affect she had on me, as I’m sure is the case with millions of others. And that makes me more sad than I could possibly articulate. I feel, for lack of a better word, gutted. There’s this constant heaviness in my chest and it’s crushing and all-consuming. I don’t feel like myself, and I can’t possibly imagine what it feels like for those who were close to her.

I wish I could have thanked her for everything she has given me. But if I think about it, there are no words that I could possibly come up with that could accurately convey it all. Naya was so many things. She was breathtaking, talented beyond comprehension, kind, and an outstanding mother.

I’m writing this post, mostly for myself. Hoping to get some sort of closure and to remind myself, and anyone who might come across this, that it’s okay to grieve. I strugggled with whether or not what I’ve been feeling today made sense, because I’m feeling everything SO intenstly. But the fact is, I’m feeling it no matter what. No one can tell you how to process or how to navigate this incredibly tragic loss.

I truly don’t think I’ll ever get over Naya’s death completely. As time goes on, I know it will hurt less and less, but it’s going to be there regardless.

Naya Rivera changed my life. She helped shape me into the person I am today, and brought me closer to being able to love myself as I am. That being said, I’m heartbroken. I feel like the world was robbed of an exceptional person..... talent, charisma, laughs, and love. It brings me comfort knowing that Naya lives on through her son. The ultimate sacrifice she made for his safety is gut-wrenching, but speaks volumes about her as a person and mother.

Naya, all I can say is, thank you. You are so loved, and your legacy will live on far beyond today. Rest peacefully.

#nayarivera

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im-gleeking-out · 4 years

Text

You Are My Shooting Star

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose not to Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death

Category: F/F

Fandom: Glee

Relationship: Heather Morris/Naya Rivera (Heya)

Characters: Heather Morris, Naya Rivera

Tags: At the bottom!

Words: 1650

TW, Major Death!!

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Heather sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through the channels on her TV and sobbing. She had turned her phone off and left it on the coffeetable, ignoring any messages or calls. The piercing pain in her chest hadn't gone away for hours, and she just wanted to breathe normally.

She'd found out the news just this morning, and it knocked the wind out of her. Not just the wind, the soul, the life out of her. Drained. She'd cried till she'd almost thrown up, and even then she didn't stop, while she hugged Jenna, standing on the shore of the damned lake that took her away.

She didn't want to live, didn't want to breathe, didn't want to exist in a world that didn't have her best friend in it.

Just then, the door clicked open. Startled, she turned off the TV and put the remote down.

"Hello?"

Naya's head poked through the door, and Heather burst into a fresh round of tears.

In one quick motion Naya was on the couch next to her. Close enough she could smell Naya's signature perfume and feel her breathing. "Heather, it's okay," Naya said softly, cradling her face. "It's okay, it's okay, you're just fine."

Heather sobbed into Naya's hands, her own wrapped around her head, trying to bury her face into her legs. She curled up on their couch, folding into herself. "Oh my God. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry," she gasped. "We tried. We tried so hard. We tried so, so, hard and it wasn't enough. I'm sorry."

Naya never wavered, letting her sob.

"Your dad went swimming, your mom begged the lake to give you back, we shouted your name, I almost jumped in myself, I tried to organize a search party-" Heather gasped, sobbing and heaving. "We tried so hard to get you back."

"Heather, hun, you're just fine, seriously, you're okay, you're okay darling," Naya said softly. "Shhhhhh. May I hug you?"

Heather nodded vigorously, and Naya pulled her into a hug, wrapping her arms around Heather's trembling body. She stayed there, holding her and rubbing circles into her back. Heather just shook in her grasp, willing herself not to cling to Naya and never let go.

"Are you okay?" Heather gasped shakily. "Are you really here?"

"I'm okay," Naya smiled. "And no. I'm gone. The water doesn't hurt my lungs anymore though."

Heather tucked her head into the crook of Naya's neck. "Can you stay a while?"

Naya's hand continued to rub circles on her back. "Not too long," she said. "Just long enough to promise you that I'm not sad or scared anymore, okay?"

"Please don't go," Heather sobbed. "We're supposed to grow old together, we're supposed to raise our children together and the end up in a nursing home together. And then when we die we can go through walls as ghosts together and scare the shit out of people."

Naya laughed quietly. "It was time to go," she said. "I know you don't understand and you think I was supposed to live longer, but I'll be alright, okay? And so will you. It won't be all at once, and probably not soon, but I promise it won't hurt as bad."

"What about Josey?"

"He knows. I made sure to tell him too," Naya said. "It's okay. He's okay. Take care of him for me, will you?"

"Yeah," Heather wiped at her tears furiously, until Naya replaced her hands with her own and gently thumbed away the fresh tears. "Yeah, I was planning on it anyway. Josey needs a mom. You're a hero, you know that?"

"I am?" Heather finally caught Naya off guard.

"Yeah. You died saving your son. He's alive because of you."

"Oh, wow," Naya stared down at her lap. "He's going to grow up and be so amazing."

She got up and moved over to the sink in Heather's house. The open plan allowed Heather to still see Naya from the living room, or she would have gotten up to follow her. She didn't want to lose sight of her best friend, not again. She came back with a glass of water. "Here, drink this. It'll help you feel better." She smoothed out the blanket and sat down next to her.

"The very same substance that took you away," Heather grimaced, and took a few sips.

"I can't stay much longer," Naya said. "But before I go, I promise you something. I'm watching from above, and I see your wins, and I see your losses, and I'm here for you. Write letters on balloons. I'll get them."

"Please don't go," Heather whispered, crumpling once more into Naya's body, tucking her head on her chest like she always did behind the scenes of Glee. "Please don't leave me. Don't leave us."

"I wish I could stay forever," Naya said, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry I can't."

Heather finally looked up, and Naya was crying too.

"I know, I fucking know this is not how it was supposed to be. And I know you think it's not fair that I'm not here and you are," Naya whispered. "I know, and I'm sorry."

"It's not!" Heather screamed, throwing the glass on the floor. "It's not! You're supposed to be here! This isn't happening! You're alive, and you're going home to Josey, you're going to take care of him and everything's going to be okay!"

"It's not," Naya said, sobbing. "Heather, please, I know it hurts so bad right now. I know you can't swallow around the lump in your throat. I know you're so, so, so, sad. I know you're angry that I got taken away and I know you don't think it's fair. I know you're probably confused and scared. And that's okay. Just please, try to remember, I'm not hurting anymore. I'm okay. I'm at peace. I don't feel a thing. I want you to not worry about me."

"Won't you, please, just stay with me," Heather begged. "Just stay here and make it okay for a little while longer. It still hurts for me! It still hurts." She pulled Naya against her, feeling her drop her cheek against the top of her head.

"I have to go," Naya said, wrapping Heather in a hug again. She wiped at her tears. "I'm an angel now. I have my wings, and you are the human I've chosen to protect. You, and Josey, and the other Glee people, okay? I am always watching over you. When you see a shooting star, that's me, cheering you up."

She planted a kiss on Heather's forehead. "You're going to be okay. I'll protect you from above. I promise, okay?"

And with that she left Heather on the couch and slipped out of the door.

Heather got up immediately, yanking open the door and running out on the street. "NAYA!"

"NAYA, PLEASE!" Heather dropped to her knees, not caring that the asphalt was searing hot, burning her knees. "Please, please come back. Oh God, oh God, this can't be real please. Bring her back. Nay Nay, please, please, please, oh God."

She let the tears fall freely, down her cheeks and onto the road, until her husband came and grabbed her, bringing her back inside and hugging her till the tears stopped. When she'd finally slowed to hiccups, he loosened his grip on her.

"Hey, babe," he said, not leaving her hugs, and reaching across the coffee table. "Mrs. Rivera wanted you to have this. They found it in her personal belongings."

He handed her a small box. She opened it, and inside there was a silver necklace inside, with a small, flat circle pendant.

On the pendant it had an engraved shooting star, and "Naya" written beneath it.

There was a sheet of lined paper, folded and squished beneath it. She unfolded it and began reading.

Dear Hemo,

I don't know if you'll remember this, when we're old and have Alzheimers and roll around nursing homes together, but in the case of that happening, I wanted one of my family members to give you this. We made this promise to each other during Glee when everyone thought we were having an affair and we wanted to fuck with them.

If you're reading this, it means I'm no longer on this earth. I don't know what we've done together yet, but I bet it's a lot by this point, and I'm sure it's been fun.

You're an incredible person, Heather. You can't forget that. You helped me, and so many other people, and I don't want the fact that I'm gone to stop that. Spread the love you gave me on other people. You were one of the best people in my life and I never, ever, ever want you to forget that.

You're the most beautiful human being ever. Your life radiated everything good in this world and I wanted to be with you all the time. I love you, from the bottom of my heart. You are my best friend and that will never change.

No wonder people thought we were having an affair, huh?

Anyway, to put an end to this rambling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Spread love. Spread light, Heather. You are a pure ray of sunshine, you are the best mom, and you'll succeed at everything you have already done and are going to do.

I am watching over you, from above. I promise. I'm protecting you. It's all okay. I'm real happy - I have a lot of friends, and I get to finally see Cory again.

Read this letter again. And again. Never forget, Heather. I am your shooting star, when you look up, I'll be there.

Love, love, love, and more love

-Naya

Heather wiped away the tears streaming down her face. "Oh God. Never forget. Fly high, shooting star."

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youreonyourown-kid · 4 years

Text

ughhhhh i mean i sorta get why people would be upset about honoring Chadwick Boseman by just talking about T’challa/makinging black panther gifs; because he was an amazing actor and did so many things, definitely recommend watching his filmography if you only know him that way. But also if youre gunna shame people or try to make them feel bad about it shuuuuut uppp.

-When Robin Williams died every post I saw honoring him had the quote from aladdin or hook. Did it kinda annoy me? A bit because he was a real person. But also I don’t get to chose how other people mourn.

-When Naya Rivera died there were so many of her glee performances going around and people talking about how much Santana meant to them. That’s fine. But again we didn’t lose a fictional character; they’re not real, we lost Naya. But it was still painful either way, and it’s okay to be sad.

If you want to honor Chadwick Boseman keep in mind he was a real human being who lived; but if you can know that and still say “Wakanda Forever” at the bottom of a gif set honoring one of his most known and celebrated characters and don’t let anyone tell you you have to mourn a certain way honestly.

#chadwick boseman #marvel #black panther #t'challa #like people seriously #why is it everytime a celebrity dies some people chose that time to be rude #stop just stoppppp

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forabeatofadrum · 4 years

Text

Myosotis sylvatica (22/24)

Notes: By now, you’re probably used to my long notes. This is going to be another one. I was going to write something like “remember when the neuroscientific stuff had to be taken with a grain of salt, then take the microbiological stuff with even more grain of salt” (which is still true, by the way, check the end notes for more) and then I was going to promote Amber Riley’s #unMUTEny tag on Twitter that’s all about boosting Black voices in the entertainment industry. I was going to post this beast of a chapter in July to keep up my accidental “one-chapter-a-month” update schedule after finishing my university paper.

And then Naya Rivera died.

It’s been a month since her body was found and I still cannot believe this happened. I’ve expressed my thoughts on Tumblr and I leave you with my previously mentioned university paper since I dedicated it to her. It’s about representation of queer women in glee. I never expected to write an orbituary in a university assignment/scientific paper, but I also never expected her to die so early.

Naya Marie Rivera

* January 12th 1987 - † July 8th 2020

AO3

VERDICT

Kurt is very nervous. It is his first time on television. Sure, it’s Blaine who is in the spotlight and Kurt’s in the audience’s front row, but Kurt doesn’t mind swaying in the background for once. The whole fame thing still boggles his mind, so it’s nice to have a chance to watch a televised moment unfold from afar.

The last few weeks have been quite a blur for Kurt and Blaine. Career-wise, a lot has happened. His previous understudy, the one who took over from Kurt during his leave, has left the show to pursue a film role and Kurt is back on the principle contract. Blaine’s “creative juices” have somewhat returned and he’s working hard with his team on recording and producing.

They were supposed to get married this month, but now they’re occupied with other stuff.

The applause pulls Kurt out of his thoughts. The late night show happily introduces Blaine. Of course, the album isn’t finished yet, but Sebastian thought it’d be a good idea to already start some promotional stuff, so that people can get excited. It’s been working so far. A New Normal is a highly anticipated release.

Kurt watches Blaine walk on the set with so much poise and grace. He smiles charismatically and he thanks the host for having him. They talk easily and Kurt is charmed. This is Blaine at his best. He’s happy, he’s confident, and he manages to charm the entire audience with a couple of words. It’s quite a difference from the sadness and anger that have been haunting Blaine for the past few months.

And those little shits are still there as well, but right now, Blaine is doing what he’s best at and he loves it.

“Yes, of course, the past few months have been really weird for you,” the host says and the noise dies down. Kurt knew that the host was going to talk about the amnesia. Kurt gave his blessings, but now it is actually happening.

They’re going to talk about the amnesia for the first time since Kurt posted that Firmspring post.

Blaine makes a face. “Obviously.”

The host laughs and repeats: “Obviously.”

Blaine laughs along, but Kurt can see that it’s forced. So far, Blaine’s been his authentic self, but now, the media façade is coming up. Kurt knows that the camera will pan to him, so he also tries to school a neutral expression.

“I can imagine that it is quite a difficult situation to talk about, since this is very uncommon,” the host continues.

“Very, and I’m not going to lie, it’s been pretty terrible,” Blaine says and he shrugs. Kurt nods along. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off Blaine, but he knows that a cameraperson is focusing on his reactions. It feels weird. “We thank our fans for their patience and their continued support during these weird times. We also absolutely love our friends and family for their love and support.”

Blaine looks directly into the camera and mouths ‘thank you’. Kurt puts his hands over his heart and he also nods. He agrees with everything that’s been said.

And then it happens. Kurt knew that this was going to happen. A crew member holds a microphone in front of Kurt’s face.

Kurt keeps his neutral expression, but initially he tries not to freak out. He consented to this. He is going to show the whole world how much he loves this man.

The host turns to Kurt in the audience and says: “I cannot even imagine how strange it is to wake up 15 years into the future. If I may ask, how did you hold up?”

The I didn’t dies on Kurt’s tongue. No, now is not the time to share his personal burdens. He would like to keep that personal. Instead, he looks at Blaine and says: “I’m just happy that I have Blaine with me. He’s been nothing but kind and accommodating throughout this entire ordeal. We’ve really worked together. As cliché as it might sound… we’re a team. I didn’t expect to have a gorgeous boyfriend, but he’s here and he’s real and I love him very much.”

It’s cringy, but it is true, so Kurt doesn’t regret saying that.

The audience coos and applauds. The host talks about Kurt and Blaine as a couple and Blaine adds some fun stories.

Then, the big question gets dropped: “How did this amnesia happen?”

Kurt sighs and Blaine’s smile slowly disappears. “We don’t know.”

In the past few weeks, there have been a lot of trips to the hospital. They’ve been happening ever since the ‘Brittana Visit’ (Isabel’s words, not Kurt’s). The hospital had called to talk about a certain new field in biology regarding DNA and memory.

At that point, Kurt had been desperate for an answer (he still is), so he said yes. Ever since, doctors occasionally have been running tests. Of course, Kurt is still in contact with the neuroscientist, but another field of interest cannot hurt, right?

Kurt’s also had to gather DNA from family members. He’s answered questionnaires about illness within the family. He’s even been in a weird brain simulator, since the biology department works together with the neuroscientific one.

Of course, nothing is done without Kurt’s consent. The doctors have explained it. His main new doctor, doctor Park, has explained it several times.

“Over the past few decades, the idea that DNA can heavily influence memory has gotten more substantial empirical evidence,” she had said, “The genetic memory theory proposes that memory can be transferred biologically and therefore is stored in one’s DNA at birth.”

“Then, why aren’t babies fully-fledged humans after birth?” Blaine had asked. Of course, Blaine was with him most of the time.

“Because those memories are incorporated into a genome, waiting to be triggered by external stimuli,” doctor Park had answered, “Human development is a process and therefore all memories are not always accessible from the beginning.”

“This sounds like a sci-fi plotline,” Kurt had whispered to Blaine, but apparently, doctor Park has impeccable hearing.

“That is true, Mr. Hummel, hence the experimental aspect of all of this. After all, we do not have all skills from our biological parents whereas genetic memory theory predicts that all those skill memories are part of our DNA. Nevertheless, the idea that DNA impact memory has grown. After all, DNA already impacts almost everything else from disease to aging to hair colour et cetera. Some even claim that our DNA will become a storage for data. The idea that DNA can impact memory is no longer sci-fi.”

“But the thing is that I’ve lost memories, not gained them,” Kurt had said. He didn’t mean to sound condescending, but his head was hurting from this information dump.

Doctor Park didn’t comment on the condescending tone. “True, but if DNA can impact memory in general, then DNA might also impact memory in a negative way.”

And with that in mind, Kurt’s been doing experimental procedures and other kind of test. He’s not the only one working with the scientists, but due to privacy laws, all the participants are anonymous to each other. Honestly, Kurt doesn’t mind, but he does wonder if he’s not the only one with a huge chunk of unexplained memory loss, or if some people have different kind of memory problems.

He will have to wait and see. Kurt obviously is interested, but life goes on and he has other things on his mind. His wedding might’ve been cancelled, but his birthday is something he cannot cancel.

“Happy birthday, love,” Blaine is standing in the doorframe of their bedroom. He’s holding a breakfast tray.

Kurt puts away his phone and smiles. “Oh, so this is why you insisted on me staying in bed.”

“Well, I can’t make you breakfast in bed if you’re not in bed,” Blaine says. Something in Kurt’s memory tugs at that sentence, but Kurt pushes it aside. Not today.

Blaine hands Kurt the tray and he climbs into bed.

“Oh, I see how it is. This is a shared birthday gift,” Kurt jokes. Blaine rolls his eyes.

“Your actual present is in the living room. See this as a pre-game.”

“The word pre-game makes it sound like we’re hitting the clubs afterwards.”

“Aren’t we? Who knows!” Blaine says, “Maybe Rachel has organised a club night.”

On the day of his birthday, Kurt has to go to a surprise party. His surprise party. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Rachel begged Kurt to let her organise the party. Rachel really gets a kick out of organising lavish parties. She’s already planned seven different kind of baby showers.

“No one does gender reveal parties anymore, since that is so 2010s or early 2020s, so that means I have more time to plan other kind of parties!” she had said.

That includes Kurt’s 20th or 35th birthday party. But that is later in the afternoon. Now, he has breakfast and Blaine.

“Blaine, is this my 20th or my 35th birthday?” Kurt asks.

“I have no idea,” Blaine answers, “What do you think?”

“Well, obviously I feel 20, but I guess I am 35. I think this will continue for the remainder of my life. I will have two ages.”

“Does that bother you?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs. “Like I said, I think it will always bother me. I might never get over this happening to me, but life goes on. I have reached a level of acceptance.”

“How very sophisticated.”

“Yes, especially for a twenty-year-old,” Kurt snorts.

“Well, I am actually in my thirties and I can tell you that being in your thirties does not grant you the wisdom of the world,” Blaine says.

“Ah, there goes my excuse of ‘well, I am technically thirty-five so I better sound sophisticated’.

Blaine laughs and he leans his head against the headboard. “Remember when we were kids? We all thought that all adults had all the knowledge in the world. Kids are so damn gullible.”

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee before saying: “I don’t think little Kurt could’ve ever predicted this. Hell, even teen Kurt had no idea what was going to happen. I never thought adulthood would be so medical.”

“Medical?” Blaine makes a funny face at the word.

“Wrong choice of words, sorry,” Kurt says, “But I mean with all the tests, and therapy for you and maybe for me, and all this talk with doctors and Mrs. Pillsbury about compulsions. It’s a lot.”

Blaine barks a laugh. “What an interesting thought on a day like this. Happy birthday, your adulthood is medical!”

Kurt also smiles. “Enough of that now. Today is a day for celebration. My ‘medical’ adulthood will have to wait.”

Blaine has his hands on Kurt’s eyes. He’s leading Kurt to the venue. Of course, Rachel has hired a venue.

Blaine whispers into Kurt’s ear: “Three… two… one…”

At the ‘one’, Blaine removes his hands and Kurt can see an entire group of people.

“Happy birthday!”

The loud crowd is deafening. Kurt looks around in shock. Dani, Clara, Luke, Elliott, Adam, Sebastian, Mae and Wes are here. Kitty and Roderick are standing next to Brittany and Santana. His dad and Carole are in the front of the group. Kurt does a double take when he sees that all of the New Directions is here.

He hasn’t seen some of these people in, well, years. They’ve all grown sixteen years. He’s seen Artie, Tina and Mercedes, but now everyone else is here as well. Sam has a ponytail, Quinn has dyed her hair red, Mike has grown a moustache, Puck is wearing too formal clothes and so on.

Then, behind all of that, Kurt’s friends and co-stars from his show are there.

He knows that not everyone in his life is here. A lot of people have come and gone in sixteen years. He’s forgotten most of them, which sucks, but right now, these people are here to celebrate him.

Kurt laughs when he sees Jesse at a DJ booth and Rachel has a microphone in her hand. “Let’s party!”

Quinn and Puck live in New Haven with their two adopted kids. Their son is named Finn and their daughter is named Lucy.

“Finn and Lucy are staying at auntie Frannie’s house in New Haven. We didn’t name Lucy, obviously,” Puck tells Kurt, “She was seven years old when we adopted her. That is why she’s older than Finn. Changing her name felt cruel. Besides, Quinn goes under the name Quinn, not Lucy, so it’s not like they both have the same name.”

“Finn was a name we both agreed on,” Quinn adds, “He was adopted as a baby, so we felt more comfortable changing his name. His birth parents never gave him a name, but the hospital called him Chad. What a terrible name!”

“But we kept it as a second name,” Puck sighs, “So our son is now called Finn Chad Fabray-Puckerman.”

Sam still lives in Lima and he is the glee club director, but he’s happy. Kurt still wonders if his relationship with Mercedes works out.

“Sure, we miss each other and we’re constantly talking about what to do next, but Lima truly is more my speed. I made my NYC dreams happen anyway. I assume that Mercedes has told you the story behind this,” Sam points towards his shirt. A photo of him being half-naked on a side of a bus in New York is printed on it. Kurt knew about the half-naked part, but not about the shirt.

Mike is married to an unknown woman named Miranda and they have an infant daughter. Mike’s wife and daughter are still in Chicago, since Miranda had work commitments.

“You don’t remember, but you love her!” Mike says while he swipes to the next photo of his baby. He coos when he sees a family photo. “Oh, Miranda was in such a sore mood, but Mei looked so cute in this romper. Miranda says hi, by the way, and she hopes that you can re-meet her soon.”

“Mike, Miranda and Mei?” Kurt asks.

“My father-in-law calls us the Triple Ms.”

Kurt loves hearing how everyone’s lives has worked out. He knew that all the New Directions members are successful, since Rachel and Jesse told him that months ago, but actually hearing it from these people in person makes him feel proud. Sure, he’s talked to them through messaging apps, but this is much better.

Rachel demands a performance and Kurt freezes in horror when the instrumental of Don’t Stop Believin’ starts playing, but he can’t deny that it’s their anthem. Mercedes takes him by the hand and the two of them join the others for a stellar performance.

It is a wonderful birthday.

Almost a full month after Kurt’s 20th or 35th birthday, doctor Park asks him to meet her. It sounded urgent, so Blaine cancels a meeting about scheduling an album photoshoot so that he can come along. They arrive at the hospital early in the morning. They scan their Springo’s to register and identify, and they take the elevator to the right floor. Doctor Park leads them to her office.

When the three of them sit down, doctor Park tells them something they did not expect to hear: “We might’ve found a highly possible cause for your amnesia.”

Kurt and Blaine look at each other in shock, before looking back to doctor Park.

“A highly possible cause?” Kurt asks in disbelief. He can’t believe it. He’s been waiting for this for nine months.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Blaine asks, sounding cool, but Kurt knows him better by now. Blaine’s scared for a bad answer.

Doctor Park turns towards a monitor and Kurt’s test results and scans appear, but also something else.

“We’ve examined your DNA and we’ve found a small amount of a certain DNA methylation. This is a biological process by which methyl groups are added to the DNA molecule. Methylation can change the activity of a DNA segment without changing the sequence. DNA methylation is essential for normal development and is associated with a number of key processes. One thing that can happen is a case of amnesia.”

“And this is known?” Kurt asks.

Doctor Park nods, but she quickly says: “Before you ask me why we haven’t considered it before, let me explain. DNA methylation can indeed lead to amnesia in memory, but your amnesia is extreme. Your DNA had been checked before, but this aspect was quickly discarded. And we were correct, but only recently, we found out that there is actually a different kind of methylation. A hereditary one.”

“Hereditary?” Blaine asks.

Doctor Park nods solemnly. “A recent discovery has been made in Denmark’s microbiological field. Kurt, you are not the only one with this problem. Your condition is incredibly rare, but over the past three years, people have been experiencing a similar kind of problem.”

The monitor changes and ten dots appear on a world map. Two in Africa. One in Europe. Three in North America, one in Asia, and three in South America. “Ten people in a population of billions is nothing and who knows how many more people have flown under the radar. We might have to add an eleventh one, also in New York. This person decided to look for help after seeing you and Blaine on television. If there are already two in New York, then the chances of, for example, only one person in all of Asia is ridiculous.”

Kurt and Blaine look at each other again. Their story has made people seek help.

“Are you saying that a new condition is being discovered and Kurt is one of the registered people with this condition?” Blaine asks, amazed.

Doctor Park nods. She enlarges three other images on the monitor with a hand movement. She doesn’t even touch the screen. Some technological advancements are mind-boggling, even after months.

“This is your father’s DNA,” doctor Park enlarges one of the three images. Then she swipes to the second one. “This is yours. We’ve traced your bloodline. That is why we asked your father for a DNA sample. Other biologist over the world have done the same and everyone except for you had one thing in common: a change in DNA shared by a biological parent. Your father does not have this amnesia DNA part, but you do. And so do all the other ten people and their parent.”

“That doesn’t make sense!” Kurt yells out, “Then why are you associating me with these other nine people?”

Doctor Park looks him in the eyes and Kurt quiets down. Her stern stare makes everyone shut up.

“I was getting there,” doctor Park says and she swipes to the third image. It’s labelled DNA MOTHER. Kurt’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. His mother’s DNA?

Doctor Park sees the confusion and she explains: “We remembered that your mother has passed away twenty-seven years ago. You put it in one of our first questionnaires. Luckily for us, it is very common to be able to recreate DNA nowadays. We do that by using your DNA and your father’s DNA.”

“You can do that?” Kurt asks in surprise.

“It’s quite common, love,” Blaine says, “It’s on the news a lot. It helps solving criminal cases involving DNA.”

“It is 2028, Mr. Hummel, and a lot has changed since 2012. We sure can,” doctor Park says happily, “Your partner is right. It is a common practise and criminologists marvel over it. You can compare it with a simple math equation. If you add two and three together, you get five. Now, if you have the number five as your final answer and the number three as one part of the equation, you know that you have to subtract that three from five to get the other part of the equation: two. Of course, with DNA it is more complex than a basic math principle, but this is the best way to explain it. With this method, we’ve recreated your mother’s DNA.”

Kurt wants to comment on the possible unethical aspects of this, but doctor Park enlarges the image with his mother’s DNA. She puts it next to the image of Kurt’s DNA and it matches.

His mother had an amnesia DNA without knowing and she transferred it to Kurt.

Luckily, Kurt’s already sat down, because he needs a moment to process this. His mother probably didn’t know, since his father never mentioned it. His father probably doesn’t know either. Hell, he probably doesn’t know this amnesia DNA exists. Kurt didn’t know of its existence until a few minutes ago.

Next to him, Blaine has his head in his hands.

“Well, good thing I’m gay so I won’t be able to transfer this gene to my kids.”

But then Kurt remembers that it’s easier for same-sex couples to have biological children in 2028 and that he and Blaine were planning on having kids with Rachel and Quinn, so the terrible joke dies out.

“If you want to take a moment to yourselves, then I can lea-”

“No,” Kurt immediately says, “Doctor Park, I would like to ask more questions, if that is okay?”

Doctor Park smiles warmly. “Of course, Mr. Hummel, but do keep in mind that this is a quite recent discovery.”

Kurt nods. He still feels a bit numb, but his curiosity is stronger. If this is really happening to him, then he wants to know everything.

“So, my mother most likely had this condition as well?”

Doctor Park nods.

“Okay, then why didn’t my mother have this amnesia? My mother was in her thirties when she died and she didn’t have amnesia.”

“You pointed it out yourself, Mr. Hummel,” doctor Park says, “Your mother died in her thirties. Of course, we cannot account for your mother, but we can account for the other nine parents.”

“They all have amnesia like this?” Kurt asks, bewildered.

But doctor Park shakes her head. “No, not like this, but they do all have memory problems and some amnesia periods and all of that took place in their later years. These nine people all got some memory problems in their sixties.”

“So if my mother had lived, she would’ve been in her sixties as well. She would have had memory problems?”

“That is most likely,” doctor Park confirms, “There are hereditary conditions that get worse every new generation, like the Steinert muscle disease. That one becomes worse every generation, but problems also arise earlier every generation. Person A might get it in their eighties, offspring B will get it in their fifties, offspring C will get it during their teens, and so on. This is still a hypothesis, so speculation, but so far it looks like this is one of those hereditary conditions.”

“Wait, so I can get it again in my sixties? It can get worse?” Kurt asks and he immediately grips Blaine’s hand, “This can happen to me again?”

“Jesus fuck,” Blaine cries out. Blaine barely loses his cool in front of people like doctor Park.

Luckily, doctor Park shakes her head. “We can’t completely out rule it, but if it’s like the Steinert disease, then it will probably not happen again. Once it happens, it happens.”

“How will we know for sure, you know, that previous generations had it at a later age?” Kurt asks.

“That is what scientists are working on right now, but this is more difficult,” doctor Park answers and she lists: “First off, we only have nineteen people in our sample, not including your mother, which scientifically speaking is not a lot and as a result, it can lead to people questioning our validity. Second off, most people of your grandparent’s generation are dead. Third off, if those people all had memory problems at an older age, say eighty to a hundred, then it can easily be brushed off as Alzheimer’s or old age. And lastly, it’s still difficult to recreate DNA with only one DNA sample as a starting point. For your mother’s DNA, we had your DNA and your father’s, but for both grandparents on your mother’s side, we only have hers. Same goes for most the grandparents of all the other nine people involved. If I am correct, only the Brazilian person still has one grandparent alive, so we can take their grandparent’s and their parent’s DNA to recreate the DNA of the other grandparent, but that is only one person. Not only that, but your mother DNA is a remade, which creates even more problems.”

All the DNA talk boggles Kurt's mind, but he thinks he understands it.

“Bottom line, nothing is certain?” Kurt asks sadly.

Doctor Park looks remorseful. “That is true.”

Blaine takes a deep breath and Kurt thinks he’s doing his breathing exercises.

“But on the plus side, uncertainty means that the negative outcomes aren’t certain either. It is possible that this happened to you and that it is it. Of course, it has brought its problems-”

“You don’t say,” Blaine mutters. His voice shakes and he continues to breathe calmly.

“-but you can continue your life as ‘normal’ as possible,” doctor Park uses air quotes for the word ‘normal’. She also knows that these past nine months have shown a new normal.

Kurt has no more questions to ask and the reality sinks in. “Doctor Park, could we have a moment after all?”

“Of course,” doctor Park quickly gets out of her seat and she leaves the office.

“What now?” Blaine asks.

“Do what she says. We must live on, even with all this uncertainty,” Kurt says solemnly. He leans against Blaine. This is a lot to take in. “I think we should tell my dad about mom.”

“I’ll ask Mimi to put a call reminder in the calendar,” Blaine says weakly.

“Are you sad?” Kurt asks.

“Are you?”

“… I don’t know,” Kurt admits, “I just feel numb. These past few months seems surreal. I know that they’ve happened and I know it isn’t all bad, but it sounds like something from a story. This doesn’t happen to real people. This doesn’t happen to me. Besides, I have spent so many times grieving what I’ve lost, I feel like I don’t want to be sad about this and start all over.”

“You can be sad about this, love,” Blaine says.

Kurt nods. “I know. And I probably will be, but if there’s one thing that I’ve learned since New Year’s is that I must keep on living. I can’t act every day as if I’m going to lose it all, even when that is a possibility.”

And it’s true. Kurt will probably have bad days about this. There will be moments where it’s just too much, but he must carry on. He leans away so that he can look Blaine in the eyes. He’s not surprised to see that Blaine’s crying. Kurt doesn’t know why he’s become the more rational one in this relationship, but both of them crying won’t help anyone. He wipes Blaine’s tears away.

“Whatever happens, we’ll do it together.”

“Fearlessly and forever,” Blaine says back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After they dry Blaine’s tears, they ask doctor Park to come back in to talk about their options. This sucks, but they have to go on anyway. Blaine has an album to release and Kurt has to do eight shows a week. Kurt loves his life, even though it didn’t go as planned, and this won’t stop him.

End notes: *claps hands* So, that sure was something!

Just to be clear: as far as I know, everything that I’ve written down is fiction. Myosotis sylvatica is not meant to be sci-fi, but this is fiction. I know way too little about DNA and microbiology and genetics to predict if this is a plausible future for those scientific fields, but in this story, it is. The gene theory aspect in this story is meant to be that: a possible future research question. I left some things vague for that reason, because I simply cannot go into details.

I did once again wrack my brain over readings that I did not understand, so once again:

DNA methylation. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DNA_methylation (I, uh, copy-pasted some sentences of this, but hey, here is the source!)

Genetic memory (psychology). (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genetic_memory_(psychology)

Ham, T.S., Lee, S.K., Keasling, J.D., & Arkin, A.P. (2008). Design and construction of a double inversion recombination switch for heritable sequential genetic memory. PLoS One, 3(7), e2815. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0002815

Hernández-Orozco, S., Kiani, N.A., Zenil, H., (2018). Algorithmically probable mutations reproduce aspects of evolution, such as convergence rate, genetic memory and modularity. R. Soc. open sci. 5: 180399. doi:10.1098/rsos.180399

Lee, S.Y. (2019). DNA Data Storage Is Closer Than You Think. Retrieved from https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/dna-data-storage-is-closer-than-you-think/

Nikitin, V.P., Solntseva, S.V., Nikitin, P.V., & Kozyrev, S.A. (2015). The role of DNA methylation in the mechanisms of memory reconsolidation and development of amnesia. Behavioural brain research, 279, 148-154. doi:10.1016/j.bbr.2014.11.025

Solntseva, S.V., Filatova, T.S., Nikitin, P.V., Bredov, D.V., Kozyrev, S.A., & Nikitin, V.P. (2014). Processes of DNA methylation are involved in the mechanisms of amnesia induction and conditioned food aversion memory reconsolidation. Bulletin of experimental biology and medicine, 156(4), 430-434. doi:10.1007/s10517-014-2367-6

Still, it is fictional and take the factual information with an extreme grain of salt. I mostly read the abstracts and 90% of the time, I did not understand it (this is why I am studying social sciendes). For example, I have no clue what a methyl group (big part of the whole DNA methylation thing) is and what it does. Everything I found, even on Wikipedia, was written in biologist jargon so I did not understand it. I don’t even know if these articles here are all about the same thing, but hey, I tried.

If you do actually understand anything about this and you notice some (possibly extreme) inaccuracies then, well, then I guess Myosotis sylvatica has become sci-fi after all.

#i basically wrote this in one day and now my brain is freezing #klaine advent 2019 #klaine #klaine advent: verdict #klaineadvent #glee #holy fuck I wrote #2020 #multichaptered

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