#i went a bit awol tonight

[buck-up-buck]

HMMMMMM

Ya'll can blame @theredrenard for this because I was told specifically to stop manifesting this, so guess. what.

HERE IS ME CONTINUING TO MANIFEST IT.

So, as per my post HERE I talked about the potential to burn Buck's loft down. Now, again, you don't have to tell me twice about how AO3 this theory is, I have been in this fandom since day one and I have read an unhealthy amount of fanfictions with this plot line, but, indulge me a second, will you?

So, at the beginning of the season I know that SOMEWHERE, there was a scene where there was a housing market crisis headline on the TV in the background, but I cannot for the life of me find it, so here is a screenshot of a post I saw talking about it!

We also have the scene where Buck is touring Harbour with Tommy at the start of 7x04 and Tommy mentions that he sometimes responds to "high-rise fires."... interesting Tommy; do you sense a high-rise fire in your near future to save you boyfriend, huh, HUH?!?

AND THEN, we have Buck at the end of 7x04 before Tommy knocks on the door seemingly going through paperwork, bills maybe? This, accompanied with the housing market crisis SCREAMS that Buck is maybe having issues with paying rent, or with living in the loft in general and is potentially looking for an out?

Now. all of these combined alone are enough to see a potential storyline to do with the loft (and it burning down, cough cough), but what really sealed the deal was Eddie's comment in the last episode (7x07).

Eddie walking in and commenting that he could smell smoke, with Buck telling him the new recipe he is working on is cracking him, rubbed me the wrong way. What a STRANGE way to word that scene. AND THEN, Buck looking up at the ceiling, where I assume the smoke detector is, all confused as if it should have been going off, but wasn't, is potentially foreshadowing issues with the building.

NOW, all of this together, SCREAMS a storyline to do with Buck's loft, the scene in 7x07 just solidifying a potential fire even moreso.

I will admit, I have changed my mind on Amir's involvement in the fire. I now highly doubt this man would go through all this effort to burn down an apartment complex, after suffering such a loss in one himself, and would not go out of his way to injure innocent people. BUT, what I do think however, is that his conflict with Bobby is going to potentially do some more foreshadowing for the loft potentially burning down.

I doubt Amir would use the words as direct as "karma is a bitch", but I do think sentences like...

"The universe has a wicked sense of payback." "Life has a way of serving up its own brand of justice." "In the end, karma is a flame that burns with the heat of our actions."

that all basically SCREAM, fire. And this makes Bobby super anxious but Amir is gone, he is either over it and has moved on with his lil ominous departure, or he's been arrested for his conflict with Bobby, and Athena is like, "he is gone, that man is gone from our lives." and Bobby settles because she is right, it's fine. everything is fine.

Until it isn't.

Until something happens that causes Buck's loft to go up in flames and all Bobby can think about is, fuck, this is my karma, and he is like, no, I will save my son, and he goes all badass and he gets Buck outta there.

Below are my messages in my beloved 9-1-1 server that I sent literally as that scene in 7x07 was playing out in front of me, including a 46-second-long VN about why that comment from Eddie just, didn't sit right with me.

ANYWAY, hope you enjoyed. As always, let me know what you think. Am I crazy? Am I onto something? At this point, I don't even know anymore but I am having so much fun terrorising the Clown Car that now I just do it for the bants.

Whenever anyone sees me type "I HAVE A THEORY" they all immediately log off, it's so weird.

[hoonvrs]

hi😄

[depressedzelda]

u know when u overthink shit and ur convinced something is destined to spiral into a fuckshow but you have no control over it or leaving said situation. Feeling that with this job

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something II

A/N: okayy I’m finally going to stop overthinking and just post this one. Please note the tw in part 1. Thank you all SO much for the comments and love on the original…hope this one meets ur expectations. It’s definitely more focused on the lost daughter relationship rather than you and Harry so p dense but...here it is 🫣

——————————————

Age 36:

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Harry informs me over the phone. “I went with chicken noodle soup.”

“Mmm,” I close my eyes. “I could use something hot and hearty right now. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I didn’t need to make dinner for that.”

“So come here, warm me up,” I crane my neck to the left again. “Stupid delays.”

“I can come get you."

I’d mapped it out before calling Harry, it would take him too long to get here. “That’s alright. Doesn’t make a difference.”

The screen on the platform showed 6 minutes…for the past 15 minutes.

“I’ve either been living in the longest minute of my fucking life,” I mutter. “Or this line is taking the piss out of all of us.”

Two dozen of us had gotten off the last train when it announced it was out of service. Now the number on the platform had tripled waiting for the next one.

“Patience,” Harry says. “Is a virtue.”

“Easy for you to say in the warm flat with the chicken noodle soup.”

“It’ll be yours soon.”

Soon. I sigh and try to release the anxious energy with it. “Thank you for taking care of dinner.”

“Of course.” He replies. Like it was that simple. But being with Harry was like that nowadays.

Despite all the catching up we had to do with the 17 years we had lived separate lives, emotionally it’s like we picked up where we last left off.

I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing the whole year we’d been together. There had been a hard few first months where both of us felt unnerved by the peacefulness of the relationship. We weren’t used to such an easy quiet.

I’d tried to self-sabotage first by going awol and working longer hours than I needed to. I think I was scared Harry would wake up one day and realize too much time had passed and he didn’t like who I’d become so I minimized our time together. Until Harry called me out for it.

But then he went off the rails, and for a few weeks I’d been an even bigger ball of anxiety. Ultimately I had to give him the hard truth even though the last thing I ever wanted was to convince someone to stay with an ultimatum. But I’d told him, he had to at least attempt sobriety if he wanted us to work.

There were a few sleepless nights, I didn’t know if we were going to make it. But one morning he asked me to go to an aa meeting with him.

Going together, being in the same boat as a group of people gathered in the back room of a dusty church finally gelled us together. For good. He’d been sober since.

We moved in together 7 months ago. Even though it doubled my commute time—tripled with delays, I had never been more sure that I was exactly where I needed to be.

We held space for each other. Even the heavier bits; we knew what they were. What it was like to hold them on our own. We always joked about how our loads had halved despite taking on half of the other’s. Because just like our venn diagram of love, our venn diagram of hurting was the same.

“Oh god, I better not be hallucinating.” I nearly jump up and down when the twin headlights of the next train peek in the distance. The platform board still says 6 minutes.

“You’re cutting up what?”

“Nothing! Train’s here!”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.” Harry says before I hang up.

I spend the remaining 15 minute ride going over the lecture I’d given tonight.

3 years ago when I applied to be a lecturer I didn’t actually think I’d get it. But in the 10 years of my career I had collected, I had done exceptionally well. It was ironic with all the bullshit life threw at me, I had somehow channeled it into a determined work ethic. After failing many math tests in high school I had found a love for it in uni—it made me work hard, get out of my head with its constant thoughts. Harry now took to calling me a masochist for teaching something mathematical.

In reality it wasn’t that mathematical. I taught Management Econ which was a snorefest on paper but I tried to be engaging and include a whole host of ways to teach—I knew not everyone excelled with a textbook.

It had made the course popular, it went from being offered once a semester to 3 times this year because the waitlist spoke for itself. It was one of my proudest accomplishment—getting students motivated and interested. And because it was mostly first and second year students, they were still eager and not jaded by the uni system.

That was how I spent my evenings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Otherwise I worked for the city the same hours Harry worked his creative exec job at a major firm in the city. Sometimes we met up for lunch. It was the little things like that, making time to see each other in the middle of the day even though we woke up and fell asleep to each other, that made this relationship feel so secure.

It felt like coming home each time I caught sight of his face, and knew his smile was just for me.

My thoughts drift to our daughter. She would have celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. I always lit a birthday candle for her, this year Harry and I bought a cake and a symbolic drink for her. Our baby was old enough to drink.

“Do you think she takes after her parents?” Harry had asked.

“I think she grew up alright.” I always imagined her to have. “I hope she has no reason to drink herself silly.”

“Being 18 is reason enough.”

We talk about her often. She slips into conversation as easily as inhaling. It keeps her with us.

When I spot Harry’s car at the station I nearly weep.

“Your cheeks are so cold,” Harry says after a peck hello. He holds them both in his heated hands and plants exaggerated kisses on each cheek.

“Please sir,” I kiss his mouth and continue in what Harry called my Oliver Twist accent. “Take me to the chicken noodle soup. I hunger.”

Harry responds in the same accent (although it wasn’t as good as mine) and pretty soon I’m forgetting the 20 minute delay, the lecture with 100 technical difficulties, and anything in between.

After dinner and completing my 20 step night time routine I crawl into bed beside a cozy-looking Harry.

“Whatcha reading?” I peek at his book. I can’t believe he was the reading-before-bed type. In a way it was so different from the 17 year old guy I knew. It was also a reminder that even though we knew each other through and through, there were still so many habits and stories and quirks to discover.

“It’s a boring as hell sci-fi novel, don’t ask.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I accidentally joined a book club at work!?”

He tells me the story of how he told some people he enjoyed reading, and then being unable to say no when they bought this month’s book for him and presented it to him a week later.

“I bet you that’s their ponze scheme. It’s like an MLM, the latest recruit has to guilt the next joinee. You’ll be doing it soon.”

Harry laughs and holds his book out to me. “That actually brings me to my next question with this very generous gift, do you like reading?”

“Nope.” I push the book away. “I also don’t like book clubs.”

He tosses the book down lightly. “Damnit!”

We laugh. I cuddle into his side and lay my head on his chest as he finishes his chapter. His heart beat is steady, like the life he’s helped me create as we committed to each other. I listen to it as it lulls me to a calmer place.

“So how was work? How’s your students this semester?”

“Work’s good. Same old right now. Teaching was interesting. It’s the second week of classes so still seeing a lot of people come and go. You start to see the regulars by week 3.”

“Full class?”

“Almost,” I tell him. “A few empty seats. There was one girl who was obviously watching tv the whole time, another guy that fell asleep halfway, and this other kid kept looking at the door like he was physically trying to decide whether he would stay. Weird lot.”

“They won’t be there next week.”

“Nope.”

“You think she’s starting uni? I wonder what she’s decided to study.”

“Mmm, I always think it’s something creative like you.”

Harry squeezes his arm around me. “I think she’s a masochist like you.”

We talk more about her, about the upcoming weekend, and as sleep visits we drift away still intertwined like most nights.

***

“Does anyone know why?” I ask the lecture hall. Just like I predicted, most of the people I knew wouldn’t make it were gone. Now there were just under 60 students in total. What had surprised me was the guy who looked nervous the second week stayed. He’d been joined by two friends who only showed up in week 4. He was probably the designated note taker.

A girl to the left puts her hand up and I point to her. “The growing gap between upper and middle classes?”

“Yes.” I give her a reassuring smile. Until I started teaching, I forgot that most answers they gave were questions. “Anyone else?”

The girl beside nervous guy puts her hand up. “The ageing population, it skews the demographic from what was initially projected?”

“Exactly,” I try not to show favourites but that was beautifully said. Maybe she didn’t need to come to all the classes.

“That would also affect the workforce,” a guy sitting in the front pipes in. I smile, pleased that a discussion was forming.

A few others join in and I nod at each point. I loved this job.

After class is over I always got a few stragglers asking questions. The nervous guy comes up to me.

“Um professor,” he hitches his backpack and glances back at his friends. “For the assignment due next week, can groups of 3 be okay?”

I glance at his friends, it was supposed to be in pairs but what the hell. “Sure. But I’ll need extra stuffing in the assignment to make up for it.”

I say it with a joking tone but he’s so wound up that he takes me seriously.

“Of course. We’ll increase the citations and make sure to include more research-“

“Philippe,” one of the girls is suddenly a few feet away.

“Thank you.” He says, finally meeting my eye. I smile and he relaxes. I turn to his friends, to acknowledge them but they stare at me like I’d grown a second head. One of the other students asks her questions and I turn my attention away—weird.

***

“Mid-terms?” Harry asks. I’m reading a textbook while I stand over the simmering pot. We had accidentally ordered 4 times the tomatoes on our online order last week and with three still left I’d decided to batch make spaghetti sauce. It had been a long time since I made it from scratch.

“Kind of.” I push the book aside. “Someone in the department wants to update the textbooks and they left notes in the old one for what needs updating. They asked me to take a look.”

“That’s cool,” Harry walks over to me. He smelled like cologne and outside, the way he usually did right after he came home on chillier days. “That he wants your opinion?”

“She actually,” I poke him. “And it is! I can’t believe I get paid to lecture about one of my passions.”

“Economics,” Harry makes a face like he smelled something bad.

“Makes the world go round,” I smile sweetly.

“Remember when you liked things that were cool like Harry Potter and Coldplay-“

“I still like them! If I recall you’re the one who motivated me to do well in maths.”

“I did?” Harry looks off into the distance but his slow smirk is evident that he was remembering. He tilts my chin up and brushes my lips. “You’re right. So how about now? Would that still work?”

“Do you want me to stroke your ego right now?”

“Amongst other things,” he muses, his hands drop down to my hips and then lower, giving my bum a squeeze.

“Cut it out,” I scold him but it’s cancelled by the smile on my face. I shake my head and go back to the simmering pot.

“Is that tomato soup?” Harry’s suddenly distracted by the pot. We’d been having a lot of it this week because…well tomatoes.

“Nope, I’m making spaghetti sauce. From scratch.”

“Hey, didn’t you make that one time? When we were kids.”

“Hm,” I think back. It felt like so long ago but something niggles at me. “I think? I used to help my mum—it’s her recipe. Maybe you had dinner on a night we made it?”

“Yes. Dinner at your place, around Easter.”

I remember that Easter clearly but not for dinner. It was a night Harry and I had talked our lives all out.

“Aw. We were so young then.” I wrap my arms around Harry.

“I’m still young,” Harry says. “I’m in my prime.”

I pat his cheek. “Of course you are love.”

***

“Taylor I can’t really do this right now!” I tell my sister as she whines to me. No matter how old we got we were always somehow 17 and 12.

“C’mon just call mom! Tell her you met him and he’s really awesome.”

“I’m not lying to mom so you can invite your newest loser boyfriend to dinner. Anyway I can’t talk. I have to get to class!”

“I know.” She says weirdly. And I understand why when I walk into class and see her sitting in the front row. Ugh she knew I would try to blow her off!

My sister had somehow taken up the bad habit ever since her mid-20s of having a string of shitty boyfriends. We all blamed it on her longterm bloke breaking it off around her 26th. I don’t think she ever fully let herself heal from that.

After two separate guys were invited to two separate family dinners and both ended in mum or dad exploding over something, they were banned. This new guy, as she insists, was different. Mature. He deserved an invite.

She holds up 9 fingers and mouths, 9 months! That’s a long time!

I shake my head and start setting up my laptop.

“Hiya,” one of the students, Kim, walks up to me as I do so. “Sorry I was just wondering when we’re getting our assignments back? Will it be before midterms?”

Midterms were in 2 weeks for this class. The assignments were in my bag, marked and ready. I tell her and watch the relief spread through her.

I spend the next hour teaching, and before we break at the hour I announce I’d return assignments. As I call them out student walks down to me and pick them up, leaving with a smile or a frown.

“Philippe?” He had stuck to his word and his group had gone above and beyond. It was a beautiful paper, albeit overly-sourced. But I appreciated it.

“He’s not in,” one of his friends comes down to get it. She looks at me in that same way again, with just as much fear as curiosity. It’s odd.

“C’mon then,” I shake the paper I was holding out. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh sorry,” she grabs it from me in a rush I nearly get a papercut. She doesn’t even look at the grade, turning quickly away before halting, pivoting halfway, changing her mind, and running back up the steps to her seat. That group of kids were weird. Maybe they were on drugs.

I catch eyes with Taylor and she raises her brow. I shrug and continue handing out the papers.

I don’t expect the girl to come up to me after class. Her friend stays hovering behind, close to my sister who I know must be desperate to have sat here the whole lecture.

“Um ‘scuse me. Professor?”

“Yes?” She was the last person in the small line that had formed after class.

“I had a question about the assignment? You um, you said we missed the equations for our answers but they’re um-“ her hands are shaking as she flips the pages to the last page. “They’re on the bottom here.”

“Oh,” I did remember they were missing it but my pen marks were all over the back of it. “I must have missed that, bloody hell sorry about that!”

“Yeah um, do we get the extra points?”

“Of course but I-“ I glance back at Taylor. She’s talking to the friend. I had to get her out of here before she said something ridiculous. “I have office hours after my Monday class. I’ll have it remarked by then and you can pick it up?”

“Um, okay?”

I quickly shut my things down and grab my sister, getting her out as quick as possible.

“I’m a professional,” she reminds me. “Jeez. Anyway Y/n listen it’s the longest I’ve been in a relationship since, well y’know. 9 months! It’s different with this guy. He works like you! A cushy office job. He’s serious. Please!?”

I hadn’t seen Taylor since last month’s dinner when she had tried to convince me to get on board with this guy. She’d been pleading for a month. “Fine.”

“Oh I love you!” She squeezes my arm. “Text me when mom gives the okay.”

I sigh. I’d really got myself in the middle again.

I retell this to Harry when I get home.

“She’s persistent. But 9 months is a new record.”

“I know!” Harry knew all about her string of boys, I’d caught him up months ago. “Anyway I can’t believe she sat through the whole lecture.”

“Maybe this is the guy. The One.”

“You don’t believe in that do you?”

“Yeah?” He squints at me. “Of course I do?”

“So I’m The One?”

“Baby do I even need to say yes? I knew it as soon as I saw you when we were 14. You confirmed it when you kissed me on the roof that day.”

“I can’t believe I did that. I had my first drink that day by the way so I might’ve been drunk.”

“You were not drunk when you kissed me,” Harry points his fork at me.

“Look at you getting all worked up,” I tease.

“I’ll get you all worked up,” he mutters into his plate. I grin as I stretch my leg out under the table and run it up his leg. He grips my ankle when it gets too high and the look he gives me across the table sends my heart racing.

“Oops,” I drop my foot and go back to eating.

We put on a movie after, something we can zone out to. It doesn’t take Harry long to get bored and nuzzle into me, and it doesn’t take much longer after that before the movie is just for show and we’re tangled in our sheets.

There were 17 years of experience Harry showed up with now, and it was another one of those things that made catching up on lost time all the better.

***

In the first half hour of my office hours, the girl walks in. I should remember her name but I just associated her group with Philippe. I was surprised he wasn’t here actually. He seemed to be their spokesperson.

“Hi come in!” I wave her into the tiny cubicle-like room I borrowed for a few hours every Monday. “I’ve got your assignment here all done.”

“Thank you,” she hovers over my desk and I hand it over. Her fingers fidget with the strings of her hoodie and I seriously consider the drug angle. Or maybe her and her friends had serious anxiety issues. I didn’t miss that part about being a teen.

“You wanna flip through one more time? I try not to make mistakes twice but…”

She sits down tentatively and buries her head in the paper as she flips through.

“It’s alright,” she says. Her expression is so serious it nearly makes me laugh. She had pretty hair—blunt cut bangs that I remember rocking in my early 20s, but on her they hide the expression in her eyebrows. Maybe that’s why she always looked so sullen. Her lips are painted a pretty mauve colour and it complimented her green eyes.

“I really um…your class is really interesting.”

Kids saying that was like injecting pure joy right into my veins.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” I smile at her. But it still doesn’t crack a smile on her end. “It’s dense material but that’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if I was gonna keep the class.” It’s subtle but she inches back in the seat. The more she talks the more she relaxes back. “But I heard it was worth taking. And people were right.”

“Are you in your first or second year?” I ask.

“First,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s covered in piercings.

“How are you liking uni so far?”

She meets my eyes for a second before they shift away. “Yeah it’s nice? I’ve never lived away from home but I have some friends here that I’ve known since before so it helps. It’s really different, less structure but I like the freedom.”

Wow, she really spoke a lot more when she was comfortable. But I find it endearing.

“That’s really nice. It’s good to have a support system, especially with such big change.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Her eyes dart around the desk as she goes silent. I wait for her to get up and go but a minute passes and the room starts to feel even smaller.

I could ask her if she needed anything else, or maybe continue the conversation? Did she want me to ask about her? No, that would be weird.

“So um, was that your sister in class last week?”

Okay, didn’t see that coming.

“It was! My baby sister, although she’s not really a baby. Did she tell your friend that?”

She nods again. “She was talking to her.”

“You have any siblings?”

“An older sister yeah.”

“So you get it,” I say. “You love them, they get under your skin, you’d do anything for them, and the cycle continues.”

For the first time she smiles and my breath catches. For a moment…no. No, I was imagining things.

“Yeah. My sister and I were close growing up, but she’s the one person that really knows how to get under my skin. I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

“Probably,” I want to say something funny again. I just want to see her smile.

Back off, my inner voice says. Don’t do this again.

Some years back, when I was still in the throes of alcohol, I had followed a girl at the mall for nearly an hour. She had looked so much like my sister but with brown curly hair. I could have sworn it was her—my daughter. But after an hour of drunk stalking she had met up with her mum, a direct clone of her.

I couldn’t be obsessive again. Nobody knew about that phase. Not even Harry.

“D’you have any kids?” She asks. I don’t expect the question and it throws me off what with the thoughts looping in my head. She watches me, waiting for an answer.

“Um,” I usually answered no. To anyone who had asked in the last 18 years. But for some reason I nod today. “Yeah. One.”

I imagine it, I must have. Her face draws in for a second before she looks down. “Does she ever come to your lectures?”

“Oh no,” I feel the prick of tears and try to blink them away without being too obvious. “I’m not sure she’d find them interesting.”

“Oh.” She finally stands. “Maybe when she’s older…but I’ll see you on Thursday I guess?”

“Yeah,” I watch her go and realize she’d forgotten something. “Don’t forget your paper hon!”

She stiffens by the door before coming to get it.

“Sorry, it probably makes me a bad prof but there were two female names on the paper. Which one’s yours?”

“Bridget,” her voice cracks.

“Bridget,” I try to match the name to her face. It fit. “That’s lovely.”

She scurries out and I hear someone say “well!?” Outside followed by a “shh!”

I shake my head and try to focus back on my work, my heart racing an unusual amount.

***

It takes a couple days but I confess to Harry. He’d decided to meet up with me after class on Wednesday to eat out. We didn’t go far from the uni, a pub a few roads down. I actually spotted a couple former students there and they’d waved at me warmly.

“You’re not crazy,” Harry holds my hand on the table. “A few years ago I realized the volunteer interns we took on from the nearby school? They were the same age as her, teens? And I used to check up on them all the time, make sure they were feeling comfortable, until one of the guys on the team told me to quit being so weird and find someone my own age. I don’t know if it came across that way but…I got lost in that.”

“Oh Harry,” I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“Me too,” I pop another chip into my mouth. “But really I’d kind of pushed those memories out of my head until the other day. I can’t explain it, when she smiled it just felt like I knew her.”

“Yeah. Maybe she just looks like Taylor?”

We finish dinner while Harry tells me about a story about some friends of his I knew. We reminisce about our old friends as we wrap up and head out into the brisk November air.

We’re near the station when I gasp and clutch Harry’s arm. Standing outside one of the nearby pubs, smoking with her friends, was Bridget.

“Harry! That’s her!”

“What? Who?” He’s so oblivious as he whips his head around.

“Hushhh!” I nod towards the northwest side. His eyes scan the group. “Red beanie. We have to walk past just look at her okay? Tell me if you see it.”

Harry laughs to himself, “This feels like we’re in high school walking past a crush.”

“Is that how you walked past me?” I tease.

“I did.” He looks at me in that way that still gives me butterflies. It never got old.

“Stop making me want to jump your bones out here. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Hey I’ll still have a job to support us,” he whispers as we near closer to the group. “Feel free to do whatever you feel.”

“You’re a bad influence.” I whisper back. By now we’re a few feet away and I sense Harry slow down beside me.

Bridget’s nodding to whatever her friend is saying. Philippe is waving his drink around as he responds. We almost pass by unnoticed when someone completely different calls my name.

“Hey professor! Can we buy you a drink?”

I turn and spot a group of students I taught last semester. They were all friends, always battling out their wits during group discussions. It made my class lively, even distracting at times. But I tried going with the flow of whatever group of students I got.

“Hey kids!” I say. Then I have no choice but to acknowledge Bridget and her friends. “And more kids! Is this the new spot to be at?”

I sounded so lame but shite! We weren’t supposed to get caught.

“It’s always been popular,” one of my old students says. “Can we pick your brain? Buy you a drink? We can buy one for your friend too.”

“I uh,” I glance at Harry but he’s frozen solid. I look to what he’s looking at and it’s Bridget. They’re locked in some silent conversation and her friends eye each other. “Harry?”

“Huh?” He focuses on me, flushed and just as confused as I had looked on Monday.

“We’ve gotta get him home,” I pat Harry’s arm. “Our alcohol metabolizes differently at our age.”

“You’re not that old,” Bridget says. She seems to be surprised she said it at all and her eyes widen. “I just mean you look younger than my parents.”

“We’ll take that as a compliment.” I smile up at Harry who still looks a little lost.

“Miss aren’t you going to introduce your male friend?” One of my old student goads.

“Don’t assume,” the other chides.

“Aren’t you a nosy lot after a few drinks.” I missed dishing it back in class with them.

“Oops!” They laugh.

“Anyway. This is Harry.”

“You can call me Mr. Professor,” Harry jokes and it’s a crowd pleaser. God they were drunk. Harry leans into me, “I can see why you like teaching. They’re an ego-booster.”

“Not in a 6pm lecture on a Thursday night.” I whisper back. He hides his laugh.

“Are you guys heading home?” Now it’s Philippe. I’m surprised he was getting involved in the conversation. He was usually the quiet nervous type.

“We are. Need a good night’s rest so I’m not falling asleep in your lecture tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t mind,” Philippe goes for joker but his face flushes. It’s cute.

“Philippe you take way too many notes during class for me to believe that.”

His two friends, Bridget and the other girl, look at each other wide-eyed before losing it. And I watch Bridget’s face transform again and I get the same feeling. I look up at Harry and he’s transfixed.

I tug his sleeve and he looks at me, swallowing like he was parched.

“Weird right?”

“Yeah,” he whispers but his mouth turns down ever so slightly.

The girls are too busy cajoling Philippe to say goodbye to so we make our exit quietly. We don’t talk much on the train ride home but Harry simple holds his hand out on my thigh, palm up, and I lock my fingers into his. Even when we didn’t have words, we never stopped staying in touch.

***

It’s exam and holiday season before I know it.

I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year. It was the first that Harry was going to join with my family. Taylor’s bloke was also showing. He had been a hit with my parents and even I could admit he was the better of all the guys she’s every brought over.

It’s the last 30 minutes of the last exam I was facilitating this year. I announce the time left to the group. There were only about 15 kids left.

Bridget is one of them. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear and bite her lip. She’d been pretty quiet the remainder of the semester, and I tried not to let my eyes wander to her too much.

After that night, bumping into her with Harry, we hadn’t spoken much about it. The hope that was initially so buoyant turned crushing as we faced the reality that the odds were slim to none. That our wishes were just pennies tossed in a fountain, sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Dreary winter days pass by and Harry and I try to keep the seasonal depression away with regular outdoor dates, cozy nights in bed, and seeing friends as often as we could.

On Christmas we go to my parents’. It’s a loud affair as my grandparents and a few cousins join us. After dinner I go up to my childhood bedroom, it’s now a guest room but some of my things still lay around. I open the window, it was cold so I drag a blanket out and sit outside. The street is quiet, I see families in a few open windows and I watch the festivities through them. I feel a mix of nostalgia and an ache that goes even beyond that, like I was missing something.

“Y/n?” Of course Harry would find me even though I’d left the door closed and the window tilted.

“Here,” I say.

“Ah,” he struggles to hoist himself out. “Some things never change.”

“You need help?” I watch him climb on all fours.

“I’m steady,” he grins as he crawls to me. I open the blanket and he gets in.

We sit in silence for a bit.

“It was getting really loud downstairs wasn’t it?” I ask.

“I think your grandma’s in love with Taylor’s guy.” Harry says so bluntly that I burst out laughing. He joins in.

“I feel like old people get to flirt with whoever they want because it’s always harmless.”

“Maybe that’s the case with older women,” Harry grimaces. “Can’t say the same thing about old men now can we?”

“Jesus!” I laugh and then laugh even harder when Harry says: “it is his day.”

By the time I wipe my tears Harry’s gazing down at me.

“Sorry,” I lean my head against his shoulder. “You have to stop being so funny.”

“Nah,” he kisses my head. “Have I never told you how much I like your laugh?”

He had. On a night many years ago on a roof like this.

I go to remind him but he’s pulling away. I watch as he shifts to face my slowly. He pulls something out from behind him and my brain only connects the dots as he starts talking.

“Y/N, this is something I wish I could have done 18 years ago but only feels incredibly right to do now. Especially out here.”

“Harry,” I gasp. When did he get the ring? When had he planned this?

“We somehow found our way back to each other again y/n, and you know I love you more than ever before.” He clears his throat as it clouds with emotion. “Some 18 years ago I told you I knew you, because the first time I ever laid eyes on you my heart knew. You were something special. And I never ever want to spend another moment apart again. So Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour and finally be mine? Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” If I wasn’t sitting on a roof I would launch myself at Harry. I settle for pulling his face down to mine and kissing it. “I’ve always been yours Harry. But yes, of course yes!”

He slides the ring on and it fits perfectly.

It was perfect.

When we go back down my mum knows right away, and if it was loud before it’s absolute chaos as everyone descends on me and demands to know how he proposed and how the ring looks.

“On the roof? When there’s a perfectly pretty tree here?” My grandma asks. Harry and I exchange a look then, trying not to laugh all over again.

We ring in the New Year with friends, as fiancés. I can hardly believe it. Apparently most of our friends knew Harry was going to propose and they all toast to us and our happiness.

Somewhere in mid-January, I drop by my parents’ house to drop off some groceries. That’s when my dad hands me a letter that had been mailed home.

“It came for you, I dunno who thinks you still live here but it looks handwritten.”

I take it from my dad as I say one last goodbye. I barely make it to the tube with wobbly legs. Because somewhere inside I know.

It’s a long and agonizing 2 hours that I wait for Harry to come home. He finds me sitting in the dark; the sun had set while I waited, and I’d been too busy staring at the feminine scrawl on the front of the letter to turn on the lights.

“Hello-y/n, what are you doing in the dark?”

Harry drops his things where they are when I look at him. “Y/n are you alright? Say something.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I just push the letter forward.

He walks towards it. It’s like he hits a brick wall when he puts the pieces together, he halts a foot away.

“What is that?”

“Is was…” I try to swallow so my voice doesn’t sound so hoarse. “My dad gave it to me. It was sent to the house.”

“Is it…”

“I was waiting for you.”

Suddenly he’s in motion. He puffs his cheeks out and lets out a noisy sigh. Then he paces the floor one, two, three, four times before standing in front of the couch.

“We should read it.” I say.

“Yeah,” he deflates into the couch. I want to join him but it feels like my arse has been glued to the chair.

I inch it towards me and Harry nods. He wanted me to read it.

My mouth is parched. I can barely make out any sounds as I open it up. It’s three pages folded in two, the paper itself isn’t anything very special, it’s typed up so it’s literally just ink on paper. And yet it’s worth a whole goldmine.

“Y/n and Harry,” I read before my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. Our baby girl had written to us. She had reached out.

“C’mon love,” Harry’s suddenly beside me and his hand squeezes my neck. The touch gives me enough strength to stand with him. He sets me down where he just sat and leaves again, returning with water and the letter.

“Can you read it?” I ask.

He settles in beside me, we touch along every edge of us. The letter sits in between us like our love, our hurting—it’s where it belongs. He begins to read in his soothing voice.

“Y/n and Harry,

I hope it’s okay I’m calling you that. I don’t know if it’s proper but ever since I found out about you two last year that’s what I’ve been calling you.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and I intertwine my arm through his. He kisses my temple and continues.

“When I turned 15, I asked my mum about you. I started to wonder where I came from. I knew I was adopted for as long as I could remember but it didn’t mean much to me for a long time—I had a mother, a father, and a sister. I had a family so why did I need to know where I came from?

But over the last few years it’s been like an itch I couldn’t get to. See when I was 15, what set it off is that my sister decided to look into her birth parents. They were separated, her father lived in Tokyo and her mother lived in Wales. It took her a year to convince our parents to go to Wales. I went with and I found myself in the home of a woman who looked just like the girl I grew up with. The whole time it ate away at me. I wanted this ending too.

I asked my mum and dad when I turned 15 but they were weird and evasive. I turned my skills to the internet but I didn’t really know where to start.

I felt the missing part more and more as I turned 16. I used to fall asleep thinking about you two, if you were alive, what you looked like, where you were, what you did.

I love my parents. They’re wonderful and amazing, they are supportive and never made us feel like we were anything but theirs. But I wanted to know my background.

On my 17th birthday my parents gave me a letter like the one I write today.” Harry stops reading and takes in a deep shuddering breath. “She got the letter.”

His shoulder shake and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I clench my teeth so I wouldn’t cry too. I wanted to finish this letter. I wrap my arms around him and hold him.

This was unbelievable, what we’d dreamed of. Her words, in our hands.

“Here.” I take the letter from him and continue. “Let me read it.”

Harry stays hunched over, so with my hand on his back I continue, “in it you told me how much you loved me. How much you loved each other, your families, where I came from. And Why you had to give me up. For a better life. I saw the picture of you, and I felt broken and complete at the same time. I realized I was the same age as you in the photo, I had to meet you but I was terrified. And I didn’t know how.

I spent a year agonizing and looking through every google page I could find about you. I learned a lot! But I needed to meet you.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve made decisions that may not have been the best but I’ve left my number and a picture of me when I was 5 in the envelope.

I hope you call.”

With shaking hands I turn to the third page that has one of those polaroids taped to it and a phone number in the same handwriting as the envelope.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry says while tears continue streaming down his face. I can’t even hide mine anymore.

She was beautiful indeed. She had his eyes, and her curly locks in a deep brown frame her chubby face. She had my nose, she looked a little like my sister as a baby. A scatter of freckles over her cheeks confirm it. She was ours. Our baby had reached out. We knew what she looked like.

“We need to call her,” I say. “We need to meet.”

“Yeah,” Harry wipes his face. “We…we need to do this carefully. It’s delicate right?”

I wanted to call her right now but what would I do but cry into the phone? No, I had to wrap my head around this. Harry was right. “Right.”

“She’s out there,” Harry turns to me. “She wants to know us. Y/n she wants to meet us! She saw the picture I-“

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “Our daughter wants to—did she leave her name?”

We open the letter and flip over every piece of it but her name is nowhere.

“Maybe she didn’t want us looking her up?” Harry offers.

“Maybe she has an awful digital footprint.”

Something about it makes us laugh and we can’t stop. But pretty soon it shifts back into tears and we’re left holding each other on the couch, tender and content and anxious.

Our daughter had made contact. Would she like us? Would she be mad at us? What did this mean for us?

The thoughts continue to spiral the rest of the evening. We don’t make much of an effort, we reread the letter and try to get dinner in us. We face each other as we try to fall asleep, whispering questions into the darkness. The darkness doesn’t answer, it grows heavier as does the night, and we fall asleep for the first time in our lives knowing the weight of a decision so long ago was a tiny bit lighter.

***

It’s a few days later. All I’d been thinking about was the letter, when I woke up, at work, during my commute, during breaks, when I went to bed.

It sits on our dining table, we glance at it as we pass by. It becomes part of the decor, three pieces of paper and an envelope. It’s so much weightier than that.

I come home from my lecture on Wednesday, a slight buzz of anxiety humming in the background. It wasn’t unusual for Harry and I to get busy at work and not talk the whole day but today Harry had been radio silent. He hadn’t answered my texts or phone calls in a very un-Harry way.

I walk in to Harry sitting on the couch in the dark, staring at the coffee table. On it sits the letter.

“Hey,” I don’t even take off my jacket. I slide next to him. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey,” he whispers. He stays frozen sitting forward, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hand.

I wait for him to speak, to say something about what was going on. I rub my hand over his back and he glances up. I tip forward until our foreheads touch. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? Let me help you.”

“It’s a lot,” he whispers. It tears me in two.

“Hey,” I remind him. “Just one day at a time. Let’s just talk about today.”

“I want to call her so bad,” he leans away and buries his head in his hands. I wanted to call her too, I’d been waiting for Harry to give the cue since I knew I could be rash and impulsive about something like this. But something was going on with him.

“We will.”

“We gave her up. What if she hates us?”

“She wouldn’t have written us that beautiful letter, or sent a photo, or left her number if she did.”

Harry sniffles and then asks what he really wanted to, “what if she hates me.”

“Harry look at me,” He unfolds slowly and I make sure he’s looking at me. “You’re her father, you’ve carried her with you for the last 18 years. You love her. She wants to know you. Why would she hate you?”

“I’ve fucked up so much!”

“You’re not your mistakes.�� I remind him. I get teary eyed as I feel the echoes of his insecurities. I’ve thought about it too: what if I didn’t meet her expectations? “She’s not going to see you and see every good and bad decisions you’ve ever made. She’s just going to see her father—her biological father, and see where she got her eyes from and her hair from and every other quirk she has.”

“You’re not worried?” He asks, looking at me with grief.

“Of course I am,” I confess, tears leaking out of my eyes damnit. “I’m so fucking worried. But my curiosity overtakes that, my love for her is what I’m focusing on.”

“I love her,” he says.

“That’s all that matters.” I cup his face and press a reassuring kiss to his lips. “That’s all she’ll care about.”

Harry untangles himself from me and my heart sinks. He paces the length of our living room a few times, running his hand through his hair.

“We really should talk about the letter,” he says.

“Yeah. I know. I want to call. Badly.”

He pauses. It’s like all the anxious energy drains out of him at once. He sits back down beside me.

“What do we do?” I ask

“How about Saturday? She’s probably going to be home then right? No school—if she’s in school.”

Two days. Two more days of agonizing over the letter.

At this point the letter is memorized, seared into my brain like I had an exam on it. I want to know the person behind it.

When we wake on Saturday it’s a cloudy day. I don’t take it as a bad omen.

We sit with our phones out after breakfast, just staring at everything before us.

“You should do the talking,” I tell Harry. “I’m too nervous.”

“I think you should.” Harry says. “She sent the letter to you.”

“Only because that’s the address my mum gave…gave her mum.”

It hits me again in another wave I try not to drown in. She was eighteen, she’d lived a whole life with a whole family. There was everything of her we’d missed out on.

“Please Harry?” I was already overwhelmed with the realization. I just couldn’t.

He watches me, must hear the desperation in my voice, and slowly pulls his phone forward.

It rings, and rings a few more times. When it goes to voicemail he turns it off.

“I didn’t think that was an option,” Harry says and we laugh. It feels good.

“It’s only 10 maybe she’s asleep. Try one more time?”

He pulls my phone and tries again but it still goes to voicemail.

We sit there, unsure of what to do. We agree to try again later, in the afternoon.

But around half past 12, while Harry’s working in our spare room and I’m scrolling through my phone, it rings. I don’t think much of it and pick it up automatically.

“Hello?” It’s silent on the other end. “Hello?”

I wait, but as I do it dawns on me. Who called me?

I check my phone screen and swipe through as I say hello again. I match the number. It was her.

I run to Harry but the phone is still silent. I wave the paper with the number saying hello again.

“Is this…well you never gave us your name. But we got your letter. We’re so gl-“

The line goes dead and so does my heart.

“You called her again?” Harry whispers, his brows furrowing as he stares at the phone.

“She called.” I think about calling her back but that was pushy. She was backing out of this.

All of a sudden I feel myself giving out. I catch myself against the wall and slide down.

“She’s backing out. It must be…too much for her.”

Harry stares at a spot on the ground, a million thoughts flickering through. Finally it settles on acceptance. He sighs.

“We can’t force her to talk to us,” he says softly what I already know. But his words are like a saw to my resolve and I just start crying. He gathers me in his arms but the grief feels endless. It felt like she was slipping away again; I’d lost so much and I lost her again. She had been so close. How could she do this? Why did she reach out if she wasn’t ready?

Questions without answers. More of them piled on top of the lifetime of questions I’d built for her.

I know Harry feels the weight of them too. We carry them together. That’s the only reason I hadn’t broken yet.

But I come close to it that day. We don’t hear back from her. And we don’t try to call her back. It didn’t feel right.

It killed me she was so close. And something changes inside.

For weeks I feel like I’m on autopilot. It’s like my first semester of uni all over again.

Harry tries his best to keep me together but he struggles too. It makes me feel worse I was taking the bigger hit, not being there for him as much as I wanted. But life feels like a a million blankets covering me.

I try to keep my usual momentum for my classes, but I’m always exhausted after. It pulls me deeper into my sadness, something I loved made me so tried.

It’s a Thursday at the end of the semester and I’m marking exams during my study hours when there’s a light knock on the door.

I’m surprised to see an old student.

“Bridget,” I wave her in. “Come in, what can I do you for?”

“Hi professor-“

“Call me y/n, I’m not teaching you anymore am I?”

“No,” she says with a stiff smile. The last time I saw her was in February, I’d spotted her with Philippe and a few other friends at a local coffee shop. She had been explaining something to one of her friends from a textbook.

Now her hair was short and more pronounced with waves. I wonder if she styled it, her longer hair had been pin straight.

“I had a question?”

You already asked it, I want to joke. But she was usually wound up so I knew it wouldn’t land well.

“What’s that?”

“Um, well.” She perches on the chair and I wait patiently for her to continue. “Are you taking any applications for TA next year?”

I wasn’t expecting that. She always found a way to take me by surprise. I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to remember what year she was in.

“Aren’t you in first year? If I do TAs they’re usually 3rd or above.”

“I know,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “But seeing that one of my majors is in econ and my gpa is really high, and I did well in your class, I wondered if you would consider me?”

I hadn’t done TAs since my first year of teaching. I found I liked the work because it got me more familiar with the class.

“What’s your other major?” She had said one of them was econ.

“Sociology, I’m pre-law.”

Ambitious. “Why TA for my class?”

She balks as she meets my gaze. There’s something that flits through her face that I can’t quite read before she drops eye contact.

“Um, I really enjoyed it. I did really well. I think you’re super smart and would learn a lot by TA-ing for you.”

“I don’t give special lessons to my TA,” I let her know. “You’d typically attend some of the classes, mark assignments, and maybe teach exam tutorials, and have office hours of your own for students.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Why should I pick you?”

She pushes her shoulders back, “I’m responsible, dependable, I submit all my assignments on time and have experience teaching.”

“Teaching?”

“I used to tutor when I was in high school. I didn’t really get an allowance so I found a way to support my hobbies.”

“What are your hobbies?”

She blushes a little, was she still nervous? “I love reading, books are expensive.”

I nod. For Harry’s birthday I’d told him he could get any books from Waterstones and it had been over £100 for 3 only.

“I also enjoy cooking. And um, it’s been a while but my friends and I sometimes go to like. Do you know comic con?”

“Yes,” I’d seen things online.

“Yeah we liked to dress up for that sort of thing. We used to make our own outfits and usually the cost varies depending on what you’re making and how realistic you want it and…” she trails off as I smile. She was really enthusiastic about it. I couldn’t help it.

“Tell you what. Leave your number with me and I’ll think about it. I haven’t had a TA for the last few semesters but I am going to take this into consideration.”

“Really?!”

I laugh. “Yes. Really.”

“Um…” she starts to fidget again. “Can I leave my email? I’m getting a new phone soon so I-“

“Sure. Anywhere I can reach you.”

I expect her to get out a pen but she says it verbally and I type it out.

“Um, are you alright?” She asks out of the blue after I type in the last letter.

“Alright?” I raise my brow.

“I mean, you seem…I just heard, um.” She tries to backtrack but I ask her again and she spills. “Some people just said your last few classes seem scattered. Not that people don’t like you. I just…that’s what they were saying. And I don’t know if having a TA would help? And I just wanted to ask if you’re okay sorry I shouldn’t…it’s none of my business.”

God, this girl was so awkward. But she was sweet for caring, I think. “You’re not applying for the role because you feel bad that I seem…scattered right?”

She blushes. “Sorry. I think I said too much.”

I want to laugh but it strikes me that my students had noticed. I’d let it affect their learning. It didn’t feel very good.

“Life’s hitting me hard recently,” I tell her simply. “But I’m alright. Thank you for reaching out Bridget.”

As I finish up the semester I think about her. It wouldn’t hurt to have her TA for one of my lectures, see how she does. I didn’t care for TAs as a lecturer but something about her is compelling and I find myself emailing her in the middle of the night in June. She responds back a few minutes later,

Thank you!!! You’re the best. I’ll do whatever you need just tell me I can do anythingggh

Sent from iphone.

I laugh to myself as I put my phone away and go back to bed. My guesses were she was drunk at a party.

Harry’s asleep beside me and I reach out to touch his back but think better of it. He’d been busy at work with a project nearing its deadline and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him.

I turn around and try to drift off, thinking about my daughter, about how Harry and I hadn’t really talked much in the last two weeks, about my teaching, and my new TA.

Age 38:

It’s a depressing summer. The air of dashed hopes still hangs around Harry and I. It’s less thunder clouds and more of a fog.

One weekend morning, it’s one of those mornings that start off heavy. I can’t get out of bed, but I hear Harry pattering about doing his weekend morning thing. I hear the dishwasher turn on, and soon after he walks in with our laundry folded in a basket. I feel awful as I normally do, but not awful enough to get up and do anything about it. I think I’d have to feel less awful, to do that.

I don’t expect him to get in beside me once he’s finished putting everything away. He smells like laundry and shampoo, I must smell like rot and decay.

“Y/n,” he says gingerly. I just look at him in response. I felt too heavy to even reply. He sits up and calls my name again.

“Mm,” I say.

He sighs. Despite months of this Harry’s been nothing but understanding but this morning seems different.

Suddenly I’m being pulled up by my shoulders and I find myself sitting up in bed.

“Y/N,” Harry says again. I fold my arms as the duvet slips down and the cool air raises goosebumps. “I love you, which is why it’s so hard seeing you like this. You have to get on, my love. We have to move forward. It’s been months.”

All I could remember after our daughter hung the phone up on us was when I almost got to hold her. Right after she was born, I almost got to hold her but they took her away. And that piece of me that followed after her was nearly returned. It was that almost that was a death blow.

“It’s hard,” I feel myself tear up. It was hard not to these days.

“I know baby,” Harry scoops me into him. “I know. It’s hard for me too but we have to get better. We have to live our lives. She’ll come back to us, I just know it. She’s scared, we’re hopeful. Fear’s gonna keep her away. Hope keeps us patient.”

I cry into his shirt and he rocks me.

“I’m sorry,” I say into his shirt.

“It’s alright,” he grips the back of my neck.

So for Harry, for us, I try to get back to myself. I start to pick up my outdoor hobbies, I try to keep conversations going with Harry, I reintroduce my multi-step night routine. I look forward and re-light the candle of hope, even though I ache to blow it out before it can burn down to its wick.

My wounds inside stay tender.

We had booked our wedding for November and as the days approach we find ourselves with one thing on our mind.

Harry and I finally talk about it.

“I always thought she’d be there at the wedding once she reached out.”

We’re sat in an outdoor space near King’s Cross, coffees in hand as we people watch. We’d just come back from a cake tasting and neither of us felt like going home with such a glorious August day. Kids splash in the water sprinklers and couples sit around arm in arm. I touch shoulders with Harry unconsciously.

“Me too. I think that’s what’s kept me from mentally committing to the fact that the date is coming closer.”

“It can’t be forever,” Harry says. “She reached out. She just needs time. She’ll call again one day and we’ll meet her.”

“I know.” I lean my head on his shoulder. This was a realization I’d also been slowly digesting. I’d waited 18 years, what was a few more months, another year? Her baby picture lived on our fridge, at least we were one step closer.

And the love, I had to remind myself in these moments. Hold onto the love.

***

“I can’t stay for this class,” Bridget tells me. It’s the second week of classes and there were still 10 minutes until it officially started.

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” that’s when I notice her nose is red and her eyes are too. “My um, my parents had to put my dog down. She…she wasn’t feeling well yesterday and the-they found cancer? And she was in a lot of pain but she never showed it? And-“

I put my hand on Briget’s shoulder and lead her to the exit. There was no reason for the whole class to see this.

“Sorry. I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” I rub her shoulder. “I understand. Take the time you need I have this covered.”

True to her word, Bridget had been a loyal TA over the summer. I considered it a trial run not expecting much but she had shown up, aced marking, and I’d gotten good feedback from the students at the end of the semester.

I’d also taken to her. She’d join me during my 2 hours every Monday and when no students would come she would loosen up. She’d told me all about the dog she grew up with, she showed me costumes her friends and her made, I’d asked her about the books she was reading and the classes she was taking. It was like having a younger sister again, except I was mature enough to appreciate her.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Bridget says and this statements seems to be the breaking point. She curls in on herself, shoulders shaking. I don’t even think, I just pull her into me like I would for Harry, for Taylor, for any of my friends.

“You have a lifetime of memories with her,” I hold her. At first she stiffens up and I almost let her go but she only breaks down further and wraps her arms around me. Tighter than I expected.

“I wish I said goodbye,” she says into my shoulder.

“I know hon,” I squeeze her against me, something maternal washing over me. “I know.”

After a minute or so she regains her composure, wiping her face with her sleeve. When she looks at me she looks so much younger, her face grief-stricken and regretful.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be.”

She seems to want to say something more but whatever it is, she swallows it and takes a step away.

I don’t see her for two weeks and I miss her.

When she walks into the lecture the first week of October I try not to rush her but I’m overjoyed seeing her face. It had become so familiar to me.

She smiles shyly when she walks up to me and I pull her into a hug. This time she doesn’t stiffen.

“How are you?” I whisper. Students were still trickling in so I use the time to catch up.

“Okay. Better than that day I cried all over you sorry again. I went home last week, thanks for letting me take it off.”

“Of course. You forget I’ve been doing this without a TA before you. I can hold down the fort.”

She cracks a smile, her dimple making a rare appearance.

“By the way, week 10’s lecture is supposed to be cancelled.” I tell her later during office hours. “But I wondered if you wanted to hold a tutorial that week for some of the material?”

“Really?” A light comes on in her eye. It’s fiery and bright with excitement.

“Yeah! You know the material! I’ll leave you with slides and you can go about teaching them.”

“I’d love to!” She grips her laptop close to her. “Wait why is it cancelled?”

“I’m getting married that week!”

The light dims. Or maybe I imagine it.

“Oh! I thought you were married already?”

“No,” I’d referred to Harry as my partner any time he was brought up. “We’re getting married in November. You’ve met him actually, kind of, that night we ran into you and some students at the pub. Last year?”

“Oh yeah I remember,” she says but her eyes are somewhere else. “So you’re getting married?”

“Yes Bridget,” I laugh. “Married. Tying the knot. You alright?”

“Yeah,” she blinks and she’s back. “You never mentioned the wedding. Do you have a dress?”

“Yeah! Just finalized the tailoring last week. Most things are ready, we’re just finalizing the rings!”

“Cool!” She fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “Is it in London?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big but we didn’t want people travelling too far. This is where Harry and I were born and raised so this is where we want to marry too.”

“Wow,” she seems lost in thought and she stays pretty quiet the rest of the time. I didn’t realize my news was that surprising.

Maybe I still didn’t have Bridget completely figured out.

***

“Harry I can’t pick them up! I need to get home and then head back out to class!”

“Y/n it’s on your way home!”

“Not really! It’s a 30 minute detour. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you can still get to him right before he closes. I won’t be done here until after he closes. I’m sorry love!”

“Agh and why can’t he do tomorrow?”

“He’s off until Saturday! We need it today.”

It’s the Wednesday before we marry and our rings are still at the jeweller’s. He’d finished them last weekend but we’d been so busy with other things we hadn’t had time to pick it up. And now it was either today and be late for class, or the day of the wedding.

I had gotten delayed at work and missed Harry’s texts explaining the situation. I’d only responded while on the tube, but going out of my way for 30 minutes meant I’d be 30 minutes late to get back to class. And since I’d left marked assignments at home that the kids needed for next week’s tutorial, I had no choice but to head back.

The idea hits me at once.

I hang up on Harry and ring Bridget. She picks up right away.

“Bridget, I’m on a crazy tight schedule. I’m going to be late to class by half hour at least.”

“Oh no. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah it’s just wedding thing but can you do something crazy? And feel free to say no okay?”

“Okay?”

I explain to her that if she rode to my flat, Harry would be there by then and she could pick up marked assignment. She can delay class by taking them up.

She’s silent but eventually I get a yes. “Okay. Can you text me your address?”

“Yes! Yes. Thank you Bridget. I owe you your trip fare and lunch or something. I’ll text you now, leave as soon as you can!”

I call Harry again and confirm he’d be home by the time she arrived. Everything works out.

I get the rings, and have to head home so Harry can try his on. The jeweller was expecting both of us, and let me know he couldn’t do adjustments if I didn’t text him by today. Just my luck!

When I get to the flat I tell Harry not to read his inscription but to try it on and thankfully it fits.

“Hey,” Harry calls out as I try to rush back out the door.

“What?” I was out of breath and frantic.

“Slow down,” he pulls me into a lingering kiss and despite being breathless before, I get some air into my lungs when we part.

“Sorry, so hectic.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he strokes my cheek. “I would have gone if I could make it. Also don’t be mad.”

“Be mad?” I let go of the door handle. “What did you do?”

“Your TA stopped by, Bridget. I forgot she was coming so I didn’t have your papers ready. I invited her in and she was in the living room looking at our pictures and she stopped in front of the baby picture. Of our daughter.”

“Okay,” did Harry tell her our history? I get antsy. “And?”

“Well she asked if that was our daughter. And I didn’t know what to say, if you’ve said anything to her? I panicked?” Harry runs his hand through his hair. “I just changed the subject.”

“Okay, that’s not bad. What’s the bad part I don’t get it?”

“Well. I changed the subject and told her she should come to the wedding.”

My jaw drops. “Harry.”

“I know! I know I’m sorry! I know she technically works for you, she was a student, all that! You’re so fond of her though maybe it’s not a bad thing?”

“Harry that’s…she was my student! I’m a prof at that school I…is that even allowed?”

“Yes? I panicked and googled it.”

I groan, “I swear you’re getting worse the closer we get to the wedding.”

The other week he had tried to buy out a whole bakery in case there wasn’t enough cake for our guests.

“You can tell her we have a full guest list? I don’t know what came over me! She just looked at me with those puppy eyes and she asked about the picture and I tried to talk about something else but the only thing on my mind-“

I kiss him. Just to shut him up. I was getting really late.

“This is like that book club you were tricked into joining all over again-“

“Hey I really like that book club now! It might be a good thing!”

“We’ll talk later.” I shake my head at him. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. It’s weird but what’s one more guest?”

“I also said plus one.”

I let out a long exhale and then kiss Harry again. I didn’t want him spiralling while I was gone.

“Baby don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m fine with it. We’ll talk when I get home?”

I mull over it on the ride to uni. But I can’t find a way to uninvite her without it being awful. I text our wedding planner if we could squeeze in two more seats and she gives me the thumbs up.

I did have a soft spot for Bridget, and technically I’ve known her for over a year now.

During office hours, we get a few people in for the first half hour. Then we’re back to just the two of us.

“Thanks for taking over today,” I tell her. “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s alright. Happy to help out.”

An awkward silence slithers in.

“So my partner invited you to our wedding.”

“Yeah! I didn’t know if that was serious am I…?”

She looked so hopeful I couldn’t shoot her down. “Yes! I have a couple people from the faculty coming. And some colleagues from my day job. You’ll probably have to sit with them but?”

“That’s fine!” She’s chirpy Bridget again. “I’d love to. That would mean a lot.”

I watch her as the smile stays on and she gets out her phone, typing away. Maybe her friends, her plus one.

I realize I’m not entirely against it. It had happened, and I was okay.

***

I stare at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress in a nervous habit. I never thought I’d get married twice, I always thought after Tatum I was done with marriage, but Harry would always be the exception.

I feel a flutter of nerves thinking about him. Walking down the aisle to him. We started talking on a rooftop one day, we had just been two kids.

“You better not cry,” Taylor threatens as she walks into the room. She had gone to fetch lash glue after my teary eyes loosened an edge.

“I’m not,” I say weakly.

She stands beside me in the mirror, “They’re all waiting downstairs.”

Just 30 minutes ago this room had been a chaotic mess. From my mum, to my friends, to the wedding planner. I’m kind of glad my lash came loose, I’m able to ground myself in these few minutes of silence.

Taylor talks about our family downstairs as she fixes my face. I get up with her help and she beams, but her eyes look misty.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing!”

“Why do you look sad what happened?”

“Oh my god calm down, I just can’t believe you and Harry are getting your happy ending! I’m just…emotional.”

“Aww,” I cup her face even though I want to squeeze my baby sister against me. But my white dress, although not entirely traditional, would be ruined for the ceremony.

A ping on her phone—mum. We rush out. It feels like getting caught when we were younger and quickly getting away from the scene of the crime. I grip my sister’s hand until I stand in front of the doors leading down the aisle.

I don’t remember walking, it felt more like floating. Even if there was a chimpanzee and a talking dog in the pews I wouldn’t have noticed. My eyes are locked on Harry’s teary ones, they anchor me as I glide towards the man I’ve never stopped loving. Who always saw all of me.

When he reaches for my hand I grasp it and I know I made the right decisions. Even the painful ones. After all, I wanted to be nowhere but here.

“Y/N,” Harry reads his vows to me and I try not to cry as he sweeps me away with his delicate words about our love story.

“To be so deeply known by another, without even saying a word, shouldn’t make sense and yet with us we have a language that goes beyond words. A brush of your hand or a look in my direction, it can be enough to unload whatever burden I’d just been carrying. I promise to do the same for you, and to never end this dialogue between us. To love you and to cherish you forever.”

Harry couldn’t keep the tears in and they slide down his cheeks as he reads his words out to me. I reach out instinctively and brush his tear away and he laughs because I was doing it again.

“You’re can’t make me cry in my makeup,” I tell him and our guests laugh.

I had sat and thought so hard about my own vows. In the end after 50 versions, I’d settled on short and sweet.

“Harry, when we first spoke on the rooftop of that party in high school,” I say at my turn. “You told me everything you wanted. One of them was to make the world a better place. And I don’t know if you still want those things as much now as you did then, but one thing is true. You’re made my world a better place. I can’t imagine doing life without you. I love you with all of my heart, there’s no equation that could calculate how much.”

Harry grins at me and my breath catches. My man, he was my Harry.

We finish our vows with a kiss and a lot of noise from the crowd. When we turn to everyone I’m struck by how lucky we were.

The absence of our daughter was tough but when it came to love we had an abundance of it. I see it in every smiling and shiny face in the crowd. It’s like photographing a sunny day with one of those old school films, the sun is covered by a dark spot but the rays still wash everything in gold.

Harry squeezes my hand and I look up to him. He’s already looking at me.

He holds his hand up and lets out a whoop before he pulls my face towards him again for an even longer and borderline inappropriate kiss. I feel myself start to blush in front of the crowd.

We start down the aisle and this time I beam at every guest I catch eyes with.

My mum and Harry’s wave with tear-streaked faces. My friends from high school shout out, always the biggest supporters of our relationship. I catch eyes with Bridget, forgetting for a second she was here. Philippe is beside her, but what’s surprising is her blotchy face. I didn’t take her for someone who got emotional at weddings. I throw her a wave and she smiles through the tears.

Whoever ordered weddings to have a small break between the ceremony and the reception deserved a billion dollars. Harry and I spend the quiet moment doing our outfit change but afterwards we hold each other and let the moment sink in. The day sink in.

“We’re married,” Harry whispers when I tell him we should get going so we weren’t late.

“We took the long way to get here didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” he tucks me under his chin again and even though we would be late we just sway together for a little while. Our own private first dance, before the one for our family and friends.

“We did it all quite backwards actually.” I look up to him.

“Yeah, but we were never ordinary.”

“No, and I don’t think anything we’ve ever done is either.”

“Including our kid. I really wish she were here.”

“We’ll tell her all about it one day,” I promise him. His face eases into a loving smile, the fact that we’d made it to a place again where I can comfort him about this said a lot. Said we’d make it through everything, despite.

“I don’t want to do life with anyone else y/n, I have everything I need right here.”

“Remember that day at Whole Foods?” I remind him. “The first time we bumped into each other.”

“It’s a core memory,” Harry remembers. “I feel like the sun never set on that day. Getting to see you after all those years…it’s cheesy but it felt like coming home.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Me too. I recognized you by the back of your head did I ever tell you that?”

“Stared at it enough in maths, of course you did.”

“That’s probably why I did so poorly that year remember,” I laugh. “Just staring at the back of your head.”

“That’s why I never sat anywhere but in front of you.” He swipes lightly down my nose and I smile. “Now I get to see every angle of you whenever I want.”

“Oi,” I slap his chest. “Save it for tonight.”

He brushes my cheek. Under his gaze I’m stripped naked. There was nothing to hide with him, ever.

“I understand how long it took you to get ready,” he says in his deep silky voice. My stomach flips. “So I can’t do anything right now. But y/n, our wedding night will turn into a wedding dawn, and then to day again. I promise you.”

I tip-toe, even in my heels, and brush my lips along his cheek. In his ear I whisper, “I don’t expect anything less.”

I step away, feeling unravelled by the look of desire in his eyes. I’m sure I had the same look of want. But before we can give in to what we wanted to do, I open the door to our suite and embrace the gust of cool air.

“You should get some air too,” I say and he laughs, following me behind.

***

“Bitch!” Taylor comes up to me on the dance floor later that night. We had dinner, Harry and I had our first dance, there’d been toasts and tears in between. I was finally letting loose as the wedding party crowds the dance floor. We had been taking pictures all night, after this next glass of champagne I was going to call it quits on photos lest anyone captures anything that’s not an elegant bride.

“What?” I turn away from Harry to face Taylor. She’d been running around all day making sure my wedding day was perfect and seeing her just warms me with love. I squeeze her against me despite her protests. “I love you Taylor. Thank you for everything!”

“Ugh c’mon,” she wriggles out. She’d never been very affectionate.

“Where’s your bloke?” I look out for him.

“He taking a call. Anyway don’t change the fucking subject!”

“What subject!?” I ask as someone dances past me, fluttering their fingers in my direction. I blow them a kiss.

“C’mere,” she’s annoyed I’m distracted. She drags me off to the side and I hold a finger up to Harry as he watches us. “When the fuck were you going to tell us about her? And you invite her to your wedding and everything and nobody knows anything!?”

“What?” I was drunker than I thought or Taylor was making no sense. “Wha?”

“The girl you just took a photo with? Don’t act stupid Y/N jeez I can’t believe it. You hid it from me when it happened but why are you still hiding…”

My sister grows more upset as she talks, I realize it was serious. Taylor rarely allowed herself to get this worked up in public.

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off. I think hard about who she was talking about. Who had I just taken photos with?

Some of Harry’s friends took a picture lifting us up, then there was a photo with my cousin but that can’t be who Taylor was talking about. There was Andie, a few other friends and their partners, then Bridget and Bridget and Philippe.

Bridget.

“Wait what are…who do you think that is? Taylor I work-“

“Your daughter! Why are you still acting fucking clueless!”

“What’s happening?” Harry walks in mid-way into the conversation.

“God you too!” Taylor turns to him and hits the back of her hand on his chest. He rubs the spot and stares at her like she’d gone crazy.

“Me too what?”

“Harry?” His mum walks up to us, her brows pulled together the same way Harry’s does when he’s confused.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s that girl? With the brown hair? Purple dress?”

She’s eyeing Bridget who’s laughing with Philippe.

“Bridget?” Harry glances at me and Taylor grows more pink.

“Bridget? That’s her name?” Taylor blinks away tears. “Really y/n? I get when it happened I was a child, you and mom kept it from me. But she’s, you invite her to you-“

“Invite who?!” I shout. What the hell did Taylor think.

“Y/n,” Harry puts his hand on my lower back in warning.

“Your daughter?” Taylor says with teary eyes and a look of betrayal on her face. “That’s your daughter isn’t it? She looks just like…”

“Jesus I thought the same thing,” Anne looks at all of us. “Harry?”

“That’s not-“ he stops talking and we all look over at her. I had to say, right now she really could be. With her hair curled and wearing what she’s wearing. She could be family.

“She’s my TA. I’ve known her for a couple years guys I’ve bloody taught her. That’s not our daughter. She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight? Harry invited her last minute.”

They all turn to look at me. Taylor looks miffed, she bites her lip as she looks at her one last time.

“That’s weird. Nevermind.”

She leaves like she didn’t just make a big scene. Anne covers her hand with her mouth and shakes her head. “I’m sorry loves, I didn’t mean to upset anyone-“

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassure her. Taylor did. And she couldn’t even say sorry.

“Don’t worry mum,” Harry pays her arm. She fades into the crowd and Harry stands in front of me so all I see is him. “She’ll get air, she’ll be fine.”

“But how could she just cause such a big scene like I’d hide something like that from her? On my wedding day! And then leave without even apologizing ugh! She is still such a brat sometimes!”

“I know, she’ll apologize later just let her be.” He knew Taylor enough. He knew her at 13 and he knew her now. That’s exactly what she would do. “We’re getting you a shot.”

“That’s the last thing I need! I’m already kinda tipsy Har.”

“This won’t tip you over c’mon. Shake it off.”

He leads me to the bar and we take a shot. I nearly spill half of it, it was awful whatever it was. I lose Harry as we get back to the dancing and end up behind Bridget instead. Philippe noticed me first and slows his dancing, which signals Bridget to turn around.

“Y/n!” Her smile is so bright it hurts to look at. It dims as I just stare at her.

It would be crazy. It was a big fat coincidence. She had a mum, a dad, a sister, she told me all about them. Her childhood dog and the time she twisted her ankle playing football in year 4. She wasn’t who we wanted her to be.

“Are you alright?” I read her lips. There’s only ringing in my ears. “Hey! Y/n!”

Philippe is suddenly on my other side and I’m being led to a chair. He disappears and Bridget pulls a chair beside me.

“What’s,” my voice sticks and I clear my throat. “What’s going on between you two? He’s your date?”

“Philippe?” Bridget’s brows draw together and I can’t stop looking at where they meet. I knew her. I didn’t know her. I was too afraid to ask. “No just friends.”

“That’s not the way he’s looking at you.”

“What?” She tucks her hair back. “No we’ve been friends since high school. It’s not like that?”

“What would you do if he got a girlfriend?” It was a random conversation to have, here and right now but it helps me from tumbling anywhere else. Especially into a pool of what-ifs.

“I’d,” she shrugs but a flicker passes through her face, for a second her jaw clenches. “Be happy for him.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not! Why are you asking?”

“You two like each other. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Why did you invite him tonight?”

She shrugs, picking at something on her arm. “I dunno. He’s good at being a plus one. He always supports me? He’s always been there for me.”

“Sorry,” he shows up with a glass of water. “I swear the guy behind the bar was ignoring me.”

“Thank you Philippe,” by now I didn’t really need the water but I hold the icy glass in my hands. “Let’s see the pictures you took. I want them in my inbox or something soon. We don’t get our official photos for months.”

“Oh yeah here,” Phillipe hands over his phone after opening the photo. There are a couple of all of us, and then a few with just Bridget standing between Harry and I smiling.

I look between all three of us and feel something in my gut. But it’s too scary and big to unpack right now. I shove it away. I couldn’t do this. Not today, not tonight.

“You look beautiful Bridget,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Did I already say that?”

“Yeah,” she smiles awkwardly. “You said that before the photo.”

“You do. And so do you Philippe. Thank you for attending my wedding.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Bridget looks at me wide-eyed, like she’s about to say something but when Philippe’s hand lands on her shoulder she looks down.

“What?” I ask anyway. Her eyes dart like prey to me, to Philippe, and down to her hands. I grab her hand and force her to look at me, like I could read something in her eyes. Like I would know. “Bridget.”

She looks up and her eyes well with tears as we look into each other’s eyes. My throat feels tight like I was having an allergic reaction, it travels down to my chest, I inadvertently feel myself squeezing her hand.

“I’m so-“

“Bridget,” Philippe’s voice cuts through whatever Bridget was going to apologize for. I look up at him and he’s burning a hole staring at her that hard. Over his head I see Harry.

“Oh look I see my husband,” Harry’s spots me too, relief in his features. His eyes stay on my face as he walks towards me and his eyes keep my steady. I want to tell him something, but everything that just happened was so non-verbal and unreal that I think I made it all up. I must be because this was insane and there was no explanation other than I was drunk, and sadder than I realized. “Gotta go kids. Have fun. I think I need another shot.”

I remember the rest of the night in snapshots. I forget myself later, giving myself up to Harry after that. We actually make it to dawn in a mixture of love and declarations, filthy words and I love yous, laughter and deeper conversations. It’s everything we were. It’s just like he promised.

***

Life moves on and I don’t bring anything up to Harry. I couldn’t, either I’m wrong and get his hopes up, or he thinks I’d gone insane in my sadness.

I feel like Bridget avoids me the week after, I return to class and she sits there, even takes questions after class, but she makes an excuse of studying during office hours and I barely get a few words with her. The week after she has an exam and she skips out after class.

I’m antsy. I want to know more about her; from her. I’m tempted to find a way to access her profile, get more info via the school. But I wait.

Harry notices, as we prep for our honeymoon booked over the holidays, he continues to ask if I was alright. And I try to convince us both I was.

About 3 weeks after the wedding, it’s a Saturday afternoon. Harry’s making lunch and I’m sitting in a pile of our books trying to decide what can be donated.

“Can you get that?” Harry asks.

“Hm?”

“The door?” He says just as there’s another knock. I’d been so entranced in the book I’d randomly started reading a passage of I hadn’t even heard.

I scramble to get it before the next knock and nearly stumble back when I find Bridget at the door.

“Hiya,” she says with an awkward wave.

“Hi…Bridget. What…come in what’s going on?”

“Sorry? Now that I’m here I should have called first.” She comes in and I go further in, waiting for her to follow. She hesitates before peeling her wet boots off.

“Harry? We have a guest,” I announce as I take her further into the home. I guess she’d already been here once before. “Bridget what can we do you for? Did you need something?”

“Bridget!” Harry pops out of the kitchen into the adjoined living room when we get closer. “Nice to see you again! I’m nearly done lunch, did you want to stay?”

What was it with Harry randomly inviting Bridget to things that were not pre-discussed.

“Um, I no. I probably shouldn’t. I just, came by to talk?”

“Sure,” I lead her to our dining table. “Is it about school? Did something happen?”

I sit across from her and Harry mumbles something, turning the dials down on the stovetop before sitting beside me.

Bridget’s eyes dart everywhere, from me to Harry, to the pictures on the wall, the kitchen, the books all over the floor.

“I was just doing a clearout,” I say to fill the silence. “Hey you like books right? Look through that pile there later if you want any of ‘em.”

“Actually,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. I feel Harry tense beside me. “I have a book for you.”

She leans down to where her tote rests and pulls something out. She lays it on her lap first, where we can’t see it. When she looks up to us she has tears in her eyes and her chin quivers.

“Please,” she whispers before pausing. My stomach drops as I take her in. Her face is blotchy and her hair hangs around her face, hiding half of it. She’s definitely cried before coming here, and I almost feel like deja vu as she places the book on the table. “Please don’t hate me.”

She slides it across to us. It’s just a simple leather hardcover, about 30cm by 30cm. The thing in my gut, the suspicion or the intuition, it turns into a cackling ball of energy and moves up to my sternum. I put my hand over it, and then move it to Harry’s leg. He’s frozen like a statue, staring at the book.

“Please open it?” Bridget says with tears streaking her face.

When Harry doesn’t make a move I pull it the rest of the way towards us. I open the first page to a few baby pictures.

I’d never held her in my hands, never even saw her. I’d pushed her out into this world, into another’s arms. But somehow I know who this is.

“Bridget,” I don’t even look at her. I start to frantically flip through the pages. The baby grows, 2 months, 6 months, 1 years old. Another girl joins in some photos, she always has an arm around the other child. I flip and flip and flip and even though I’m expecting it the photo stops my breathing.

I stare at the clone, or the original, of the photo on my fridge.

I’m frozen until another photo is slid towards us. It comes into view: two teenagers on Halloween night. The guy is dressed like the girl, the girl is dressed like the guy.

I throw my chair back and in the time it takes to walk to Bridget she stands too.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs but I just do what I wanted to do the second she was born.

I hug her. I hold her to my chest the way I never got to over 19 years ago. She belonged here. She never got to be here.

She was finally home. My daughter.

“Bridget,” I cry into her hair. Harry’s hair. She had Harry’s hair, his eyes. She got my nose and everything else. I was holding my daughter. She was in my arms, finally.

She really did look like Taylor as a baby.

“I’m sorry,” she cries again. “I was so scared and I screwed up and-“

“No.” I say fiercely. I push her out of the hug so I can grab her face. I wipe her tears and I nearly cry again. How many tears had I missed? Over skinned knees, playground taunts, first crushes and friendship breakups. How many tears had I missed? “Don’t say that. You’re here. You’re—Harry!”

I turn to him, why wasn’t he here?

He’s sat exactly where he was before. Frozen, staring at a spot between the picture of us and Bridget.

I let go of Bridget and move back to him.

“Baby,” I touch his arm and he springs up. Tears coat his lashes.

“‘Scuse me,” he brushes past me and heads out into the hall. Away from us. I want to go after him but I don’t want to leave Bridget—our daughter, alone.

“I’m sorry I knew I would ruin things I-“

“Please,” I want to go after him so bad but I go to Bridget and pull her into a gentler hug. When we part I keep hold of her shoulders. I never wanted to let her go. “He’s just processing it. He’s fine. He’s not mad at you I promise. Promise.”

She bites her lip, it reminds me of Taylor. She was a bit of everyone I knew and loved. She was the love that Harry and I always had. She was ours.

“I just got so scared when I tried to reach…I didn’t mean to deceive you. I didn’t. I felt terrible every day.”

“It’s okay,” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing to be sorry about-“

“But I saw you,” she cuts me off. “After I finally called you back and then just like, ghosted you. And every time I saw you at school it was like…I knew I was to blame. And it made me want to tell you even more but I got more scared any time I came close to it. I almost said it at your wedding—it would have been so stupid. Philippe stopped me.”

“I understand,” I did. I also didn’t care about any of it. She was here. That’s all I cared about. I wanted to know everything about her, I needed Harry here though. “Look Harry…your…Harry. I’m just going to check on him. You stay here and just…”

I trail off and leave. I had to be sure he was okay.

He’s not in the bedroom, or the office. I try the door to the toilet and it opens, he’s sitting on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands.

“She leave?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Oh baby,” I crouch in front of him. “No. She’s still here but I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m pathetic,” he buries his hands in his hair. “I’ve been waiting my whole adult life for this and all I do is freeze. Her first impression is of her dad just freezing and then running away.”

I try not to laugh at his dramatic retelling. “Har you know that’s not true. She’s known you before this. It was a shock-“

“You were fine.”

“You know I…always suspected. Especially after the wedding.”

He looks up at that, finally. “You never said.”

“Harry, I felt crazy. Saying it out loud would have forced me to check myself into the psych ward. We all react differently, it doesn’t matter though. Our baby girl is here. The day we talked about!”

He takes a deep breath, and then another one. I guide him to stand and he looks so limp and sad that I squeeze him in a hug. “She doesn’t care how you reacted. She just wants to know you.”

Harry sighs again, he splashes his face with water and we walk out. I was nervous for him.

We walk back into the living room and my heart sinks when Bridget isn’t there. But her things are?

A few steps further and she’s at the stovetop, stirring a pot.

“Oh sorry,” she steps back and nearly throws the spatula into the pot. “It was boiling a lot and-“

“Bridget,” Harry ignores most of what she’s saying and she freezes at the sound of her name. He’s a foot away from her now. I watch him raise a hand to her face and then drop it. His face is a cross between heartbreak and awe as they drink each other in. I wait in anticipation.

“Hi,” she finally says shyly. But it breaks the ice. Harry pulls her into a hug and she returns it tenfold from the looks of it. I can’t tell who’s crying, but I give them their moment as I turn the dials off on the stovetop.

It was just a regular Saturday, except it wasn’t. Our worlds exploded with our past and was putting itself back together again, all the old broken pieces were being mended back together with love. My chest drowns in it, I can barely breathe. In Harry’s arms, there’s no denying she’s ours.

***

“Thank you,” Bridget says as we tuck into dinner. Harry’s lunch prep had gone cold as we’d all sat down and talked about how Bridget found us (looking me up, finding out I was teaching a course she was interested in, forcing her friend Philippe to take it to see if I was who she thought I was), and going through her album. I found out more about her sister Louisa and her parents. It was weird seeing pictures of them, in my mind they were the people that took my baby as their own and for Bridget they were mum and dad.

We finally decide to do something about food when our stomachs rumble. Harry goes back to cooking, showing Bridget what he’s doing until she leaves to take a call. I recognize Philippe on the caller ID.

I take Bridget’s place but I’m more of an extra weight tied to Harry’s back as I hug hun from behind. We don’t even have words on what this all means to us. For now, just touching each other keeps us grounded, it keeps is in what was happening together.

Bridget comes back from the call when we’re nearly done.

“I just want to say I am sorry—and I know you said not to be,” Bridget says quickly before I can get a word in. “But I never meant to deceive the both of you. My plan was to take your class, leave the letter and then talk. I Googled you so much it felt like I knew you. Yet when we spoke in your office that day, you felt familiar but In a different way than the person I studied. I just liked you so much, and I wanted you to like me. I was scared maybe you wouldn’t. So I just screwed the plan and messed up everything.”

“Hey,” Harry hands her a tissue and she takes it. Under the table he squeezes my hand. “It’s in the past.”

“I know. Still made me feel awful. And I couldn’t tell you but I also couldn’t stay away. I applied for TA and, it felt like having a friend and a sister and a mentor all in one. And I…I screwed up. I took it too far. And then you invited me to your wedding—I got to attend my parents’ wedding! It was so absurd. I couldn’t stop crying.”

Sounded like me. But I don’t say anything. We listen to her attentively.

“I only told my sister. I wanted to tell you two before I told my parents.”

I think about my parents. Harry’s. I didn’t want to overwhelm her but I couldn’t wait to introduce her to everyone that already loved her.

“I just hope…no, I know I hurt you two a lot. I didn’t mean to. I am really sorry about it all.”

“Bridget,” Harry’s hand comes down on hers. “What’s done is over. There are so many things we wish we did differently but ultimately it’s all done. All that matters is you’re here, now. You’re our daughter we never got to meet and you’re finally here.”

Harry’s voice cracks on the last word and he sits back and laughs away the tears. “Sorry. I’m a mess today aren’t I? Your first impression of me is a crying mess.”

“That’s not my first impression,” Bridget laughs but her eyes also fill with tears. “That night at the pub. When I saw you two together I nearly bloody fainted! When I looked you up y/n, there’d been an old wedding registry with another bloke. But then seeing you two together?! I just couldn’t believe it—I thought I dreamed it. And then I nearly cried because my bio parents were somehow together?? And the way you just stared into my soul it felt like you knew who I was.”

I laugh, remembering but also knowing exactly what look Bridget was talking about. “He does have a piercing look doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It could gut someone!”

“That makes it sound awful!” Harry laughs. “Don’t say that.”

“It nearly gutted me! I really thought oh shite—“ Bridget freezes and looks between us like we were gonna scold her for swearing and I nearly leap across the table to hug her again then. “I uhm, I thought you knew who I was.”

“We thought it then,” I let my eyes roam over her. I realize I’d always been a mother, despite not having my daughter. Holding her earlier had awoken an instinct in me and now every time I look at her I feel a rush of love and something fierce. I wonder if Harry felt it too. “But we thought we were mental!”

Her phone chimes as we laugh. She flips it around and then tucks it into her purse.

“You need to take that?” Harry asks.

“No it’s just Philippe. He was at the wedding? I was just talking to him, I hadn’t texted him in a while he wanted to know how it went.”

“Philippe,” I say with a knowing smile. Bridget blushes and Harry asks what he’s missing out on so I fill him in.

“He sounds like a good lad,” Harry comments.

“A good lad?” I repeat. “Are you hearing him?”

Bridget laughs behind her hand and I can’t stop staring at her. I have to force myself to go back to eating.

“He is. I might have told him about how I felt?”

“Wow,” I put my fork down. “You’re confessing an awful lot lately.”

She blushes even deeper. And suddenly I’m grateful of the weird and layered way she’d come into our lives. Despite hiding the truth, it had allowed us to get to know each other as people first. Without any baggage or give me any inclination to fit who I thought she should be onto who was in front of me.

I got to know her for the young woman she was first, so did Harry in a way. And I would be forever grateful for that despite all the pain in between.

“Sorry,” I get up. The affection was overflowing from my cup. “I’m going to give you another hug because I just can’t believe all this.”

“Ohh,” Bridget stands to meet me and we wrap our arms around each other. Here was a girl I already knew, here was my daughter waiting to be known.

“God, she really is our daughter.” Harry quips from his side of the table. He explains when Bridget looks over at him, “y/n is known to be a big touchy person, I’m kinda like that too.”

“Oh my god,” she smiles at us. “I’m like that too! My sister hates hugs. My dad’s 2 pats on the back man, 3 if he’s feeling a lot. I always wondered if…”

She trails off. It seems to hit all of us all over again every so often. For me it’s when she talks about her mum and dad and it’s not Harry and I. The reminder that she went 19 years becoming her own person that we now were catching up on.

For her, it seems it was realizing all the parts of us that were in her.

“You got Harry’s hair, and eyes.” I comment.

“I did! I realized that as soon as I saw a photo online. But I do look a bit like you.”

“You do! I should show you some younger pictures of us and our families. You’ll see more similarities.”

“Wow. So you have a younger sister. How about you Harry?”

“Older sister. Seems we all have sisters.”

Bridget and I make eye contact, remembering a conversation we had what feels like ages ago about having sisters.

We continue our dinner, swapping stories and filling her in on anything she wants to know. She leaves after, claiming to have to get back home, she had an exam on Monday to study for.

When she leaves Harry and I can’t stop talking about her. Or gushing would be more accurate.

“Did you see the way she laughs?” I’d tell him. “Pure you!”

“The way she tucks her hair back,” he would retaliate. “Just like you. You did that especially back in secondary.”

We talk until we’re exhausted, crawling into bed just staring in wonder. There were still so many details to figure out, so many things to cover, it could drown a person thinking of it all.

But like an anchor in the sea, Harry and I fall asleep with hand clasped together. We keep each other buoyed amidst it all.

It was going to take time for this all to sink in but all I’ve ever had was time, and questions. I think I was finally getting time and answers.

Age 39:

Harry’s pov: Having our daughter in our lives is simple and complicated at the same time. At first there were a lot of things to untangle but as time went on, the knots loosened until our lives became their own knots, tangled into each other.

Meeting her parents, the people I met once many years ago, was likely the strangest part. They already felt so familiar as soon as they greeted us in a warm embrace, as if we were there own children. I guess the last time they saw us we were.

“Oh look at you,” Bridget’s mum had squeezed us tight. Her dad had pat us three times and we took it to mean as much as a hug.

In my mind they were always the age they had been then. They were probably around the age we are now. Seeing them sport greys and fine lines, it was like stepping into a time portal.

Lou, Bridget’s sister, eyes us for the first little while before warming up and sharing all kinds of stories—especially the embarrassing kind with us.

When Bridget meets Y/n’s family, I can tell they’re loud and overwhelming at first but we’re all surprised when Taylor embraces Bridget and takes to her immediately.

She brings out old pictures they had of Y/N and I, but every time she says, “your mum and dad…” when she talks about us through the pictures, I notice y/n protesting less and less.

It makes me feel funny, I keep thinking I was going to wake up and find out it had all been a dream.

“This feels very full circle to me,” y/n’s mum says. She’s watching Taylor talk about her baby bump—she was 3 months along. “I saw Bridget as a wee baby when they handed her over to her parents. I remember running late to hospital and making it to the room just in time to see it. I blinked and now she’s in my living room!”

“Sometimes I feel the same way,” I confess.

My family is slightly quietier but they all fuss over our daughter. They ask a million questions and when it’s all over we take Bridget for ice cream. It’s a pseudo-recreation of a life we never had.

Bridget eases into it too. At first she had bouts of disappearing on us. No more than a couple days. But we give her space, understanding it was overwhelming.

Every time I see her, I see her mum—y/n. I was never there when y/n gave birth. We had to drive up from London when we got the news and by the time I got there the dust had settled.

I never even had the potential of seeing her. I’d always been more sympathetic of y/n; her loss had been physical, mine was slightly more abstract.

Even though I’d spent every year since regretting that I wasn’t there to at least glimpse her, I’m glad now I hadn’t been there to see her. If I had to live the last 18 years with this feeling in my chest I don’t think I could have lasted that long. I don’t know how y/n did it. It’s a concoction of deep unconditional love, and tenderness, and recognition, wrapped in a shell of protectiveness. It took me a while to sort through it all but I had a conversation with my parents one night at dinner Y/n and I had visited. And they’d laughed because they had told me that was simply what being a parent was.

“Maybe she regrets it,” I had said the second time she ghosted us. Really it had just been over a day where she hadn’t gotten back to us. But I couldn’t help the overthinking, being tuned into any potential of loss with our daughter.

Somehow, y/n was the cool headed between us two in these moments. Maybe it was being a mum, maybe it was knowing Bridget beforehand, but she was very in sync with her.

“She needs space. The last thing we want her to be is overwhelmed too. Now don’t overwhelm yourself love, at least she’s in our lives.” She’d say.

It takes us the start of the summer and all those meets later for Bridget to finally feel at ease.

We invite her on a road trip, we were renting a place in the Cotswold for a few days and told her to bring Philippe. When she doesn’t even hesitate to say yes Y/n tells me we’d done it: she was finally more comfortable than overwhelmed.

“Y/N made me a better man,” I say after a couple drinks. We’re all sat around a fire outside the house. Despite it being a warm day of hiking the night had cooled significantly and we’d decided that boozy hot cocoas was the way to go. “I’ve lost my ways a lot of times as an adult. But she’s always been my north star. Even when we got back together she led me to being sober and getting my shite together.”

“Oh…” Philippe looks down at his drink. “Are you…”

“No,” I laugh, Philippe was the most-conscientious teen I’d ever met. “I got sober to get my life in order. But…it’s in order now. I haven’t done anything crazy for over a year now.”

A little before our wedding I decided I wanted to end my sobriety. It had been a thought for months, and I had waited before giving in. But I really felt more in control of my life. I faced my life decisions head on, I confronted my past with y/n’s help, and I didn’t think I’d lose control again. It had been a shaky first week but I was right. It was a proud moment for me.

“You two really have something special,” Bridget comments.

“They do,” Philippe adds. “I can’t believe you got your happy ending after so many years!”

“Yeah,” y/n says as I lay my hand on her thigh, palm up. “Y’know what they say about loving someone and letting them go.”

“I guess you did that with me,” Bridget says so quietly we almost don’t hear her. But out here in the countryside we do.

“We didn’t want to,” I remind her.

“No I know.” She smiles, it’s a bit sad. Philippe tugs her closer. I could see how much he cared for her in that small gesture. “I’m not saying it like that. I hear your story and I just imagine how different my life would have been if I was raised by my, by you two. I wouldn’t have this life. And I really like this life.”

She looks at Philippe and I feel y/n squeeze my hand. She often said they reminded her of us when we were younger; the kind of love you’d do anything for.

“But you two loved me enough to let me go. To let each other go. It’s fucking sad but it’s beautiful. Life’s weird.”

“Here here,” Y/N raises her nearly empty cup of hot cocoa. “Life’s weird, sad, beautiful, but lately my life’s been full of so much love. I wish I could sell all the excess, I think I could solve a lot of world problems with it.”

“Wow,” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “That’s one hell of a speech.”

“I have a speech,” Philippe stands, a little tipsy, and clears his throat. Bridget rolls her eyes but they shine for him. “Bridget you’re the love of my life. Since we were 13. But Harry and Y/N, I think I love you too. Ever since we were 15, I’ve watched Bridge struggle for answers about her past. And you two have given her all the answers, welcomed her—and me actually, into your lovely life. I’ve watched her become old Bridge but even more confident. I’m falling harder for her these days. And I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aw Philippe come here,” y/n lets of my hand to walk around and give him a hug. How quickly strangers became family.

Bridget grumbles about being left out and joins the hug. Soon I join in too. I want to create a mold of this moment, I think as I squeeze them against me, I’d make it out of plaster and let it dry. Any time we wanted, we could always find our way back to this moment here.

Age 40:

Y/N and I watch our daughter cross the stage. Beside us are our parents and in front of us sits Bridget’s parents and her sister. She has a whole army cheering for her. This was the first milestone event we could all really show up for, and show up we did.

“I can’t believe this,” I was so proud of her. I know the kudos went to her parents, and herself, but I beam with pride. Honestly Bridget could spin in a circle in front of me and I would be a proud dad.

“We need to get photos,” mum leans over and says so seriously, as if we hadn’t planned on getting a million already.

We have a framed picture in our hall, Y/N and I on our wedding day, our daughter in between us. Her graduation photo is definitely making it. She makes fun of this wall, calls it the Styles hall of fame, and I never mention it but she always lingers a few second longer in front of the photo of the three of us.

I do too.

“It makes me so sad you won’t be so close to me anymore,” my mum tells Bridget later. We’re all piled in our flat, drinks and celebratory cake in everyone’s hands.

It reminds me of mine and y/n’s 40th birthday, we had gathered our family and friends here and it was some of their first times meeting our daughter. Today is more intimate, and focused on Bridget.

“I know it makes me sad too, but I’ll be here often, visiting Philippe.”

“Only visiting Philippe?” I raise a brow.

“Is there someone else I’m supposed to be visiting?” She mirrors my raised brow.

As Bridget’s gotten more comfortable, me and her could banter for hours if you let us, it’s one of those things that brought us closer together—having the same sense of humour. It’s allowed us to have just as deep heart-to-hearts, a handy joke always close to the surface.

Y/N always says seeing me like that, thoughtful and silly, reminds her of the boy she fell for. I can’t deny that I’ve been feeling closer to my 20 year old self than my 40 year old self lately.

“She’s too cheeky,” Bridget’s mum says. “But I have to say I’ll be glad to have her back.”

Lou, Bridget’s sister, was moving to Wales. Apparently she wanted to know more about her background, and take a trip with her bio mum to visit her bio dad.

I think Bridget was moving back to Coventry to keep her parents’ loneliness away; she said she would commute to Birmingham for school. Even though she got accepted into law schools in London, going to a uni close to her parents just showed me how close she was to her parents. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“I’ll have somebody to watch cricket with again,” her dad says.

“Ohh,” Bridget throws her sister a side-eye. “I love cricket…”

We all laugh at her complete lack of concealing her true feelings.

Later that night, it’s just Bridget’s parents and us. The kids are on the balcony talking.

“I know we’ve said it before,” I say after a long silence. We’d just been watching the kids talk and laugh outside. “But I want to say thank you again.”

Bridget’s dad shakes his head. “It was the greatest pleasure of our lives getting to raise those two girls.”

He looks over at his wife and they smile at one another. Seeing them interact, I’m grateful that somehow fate had led us to them. While Y/N and I were figuring life out, while I fucked up a lot of things, she was raised on a steady and stable foundation.

“She’s incredible,” I murmur. “She’s gonna be a lawyer. She’s going to change the world.”

“She sure will,” her mum says. “We should be thanking you two. For giving us Bridget. I know it wasn’t easy, you told me you thought about her nearly every day. But we can’t imagine our lives without her.”

We sit in a comfortable silence, looking out at the kids until they notice and start to ask questions through the glass.

“She’s happier,” her mum says smiling at Bridget and Lou exaggerating their words through the glass. “She stopped being like this before she left for uni. We thought we lost her but…I think everything worked out for the best.”

Y/N glances at me. Her eyes crinkle when she finds me looking at her first, her eyes steady me as she says what I was thinking, “I think so too.”

Age 45

Your pov: “When did she say she would be here?”

“6?” Harry says for the tenth time.

“It’s 6:20 do you think something happened? She hasn’t texted has she?”

“My love,” Harry puts down the cutlery he was arranging on the table and holds my face in his hands. “They’re driving from Coventry, they probably hit some traffic.”

“Maybe I should call her?”

Harry sighs and squishes my face.

“Don’t! You’ll make more wrinkles.” I warn.

“I love your wrinkles,” Harry kisses my forehead right where the pesky wrinkles had been growing deeper over the last few years despite the additions to my night routine.

Harry always said our wrinkles were just the stories of our lives showing through. I told him to get himself undereye cream.

“You don’t think I’m aging handsomely?” He strokes the moustache he started growing last year. At this age, even I couldn’t deny it made him even more attractive.

“Well it’s no good if you’re ageing handsomely and I age like a troll.”

“I will love you if you age into a troll.”

“But will you love me if I turn into a worm?”

“Do you even have to ask? I’d buy you the best soil and keep you in a beautiful pot.”

“You wouldn’t take me fishing?” I ask. He sighs. Last year while we were taking a trip up north for Lou’s wedding, we’d gotten into a fight and when I asked him the question while he was still stewing he said he’d take me fishing. It had, ironically, broken the iciness of his anger and we’d laughed about it so hard he’d nearly had to pull over.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he wraps me into his chest nearly suffocating me.

I’d spent half my life with a lot of difficulties, but life now felt easy compared to it. I had the privilege of getting older with the man I adored, got to watch my daughter flourish as an adult and a lawyer, watch her get married to the love of her life, and all the while live comfortably in the heart of this city I called home.

When Bruno starts barking though, I gasp and push myself off of Harry, “that’s them!”

Bruno continues to bark as I rush to the door. We’d got him a couple years ago as a pup and I can’t believe it had taken us that long to get a dog. He filled our lives with laughter and long walks. We loved him.

“Down.” I say to him. I open the door and hold my hands out while Bruno runs in circles beside me.

“Ahhh sorry we’re late!” Bridget steps into my hug and I tug Philippe’s hood so he can join. Bruno goes for Philippe when they walk in, he’d gotten obsessed with him after Philippe took care of him while Harry and I took an anniversary trip last year.

“Where are my hellos!?” Bridget says to Bruno and he barks, standing on his back legs to paw at her leg.

I hadn’t seen the two of them since March, that was 6 months ago. It had been their wedding, and they’d gone on a month long honeymoon after that, after which Harry and I had taken time off to road trip around Europe with Bruno, and then time had just zipped by.

After a hearty dinner, Harry and I carry out the birthday cake we’d been hiding.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Bridget fans her face but we treat it like we do any special occasion, plus making up for all the ones we’d missed. We get photos and exchange presents, she cries reading the cards and the whole time she says she had a present for us.

It’s a small bag, Harry and I guess that it was something for Bruno but when we take out a box it doesn’t sound like much when we shake it.

“Is this a prank gift? There’s nothing in it?” Harry asks.

“Open it!” He was making me antsy.

“You open it,” he hands me the box. Bridget and Philippe stare intently at my hands.

I undo the bow and slowly open the box. There’s a small square of tissue paper, and then a piece of paper. I remove both but something catches my eye.

I flip the paper over and stop breathing.

“Is that-“ Harry stops talking too. We stare at the piece of paper in our hands. It looks so much like one I had held 28 years ago. But it’s not.

“Bridge,” I look up at the couple. The parents-to-be.

“We’re having a baby,” Bridget says. Philippe and her are gripping hands and I throw everything off of me to launch myself at her.

“A baby!” I hear Harry say and joining us. “You’re having a baby! Y/n!”

“I never thought we’d be grandparents,” I look up at Harry.

“Those wrinkles were coming in for a reason,” he teases.

We never did have any other kids. Quite frankly, neither of us wanted any. When we first got together we were just starting to get comfortable with the reminder that we had a daughter out there and we could talk about her freely with each other. It felt like having a third person in our little family.

After Harry proposed, while we planned our wedding, we talked about it but we never thought it felt right. We both had first marriages where a lack of conceiving had just put a strain on the relationship we didn’t think we needed. We’d also felt like it was betraying something, before we met our first child.

When Bridget did reach out, it became about catching up on lost time. And then with her in our lives we knew what we suspected all along. We had each other, and that was enough. Bridge was our bonus. And getting to be aunt and uncle to our nieces and nephews it was enough. It was a full enough life.

We never even dreamed in our 20s we’d get to be parents and now we would get to be grandparents! I never realized until this moment that I wanted this. Really wanted it.

“Do you know the gender?” Harry asks.

“No,” Philippe answers. “We were thinking of doing one of those reveal parties? But not for a couple months.”

“Wow,” my hands drift down to Bridget’s belly and I remember I had something. I leap away from the group and find the box in my closet, it’s painted pink with random collages from old magazines. It hosts old diaries, photos, a hospital bracelet, and an ultrasound.

“This was you once,” I show her the picture when I get back. “I carried you like that once upon a time.”

She takes it with teary eyes, holding it close to her face to make out the shape of her. She hands it to Philippe and grabs my hands.

“I’ve thought about it before, but when I got pregnant I couldn’t wait to tell you-“

“She kept telling me I had to make a trip out to London just so she could give you the news.” Philippe interrupts, eyes scanning the ultrasound still.

“No really,” Bridget laughs. “I did. It’s like I got this new perspective.”

She puts my hands on her belly and covers mine with hers. I feel everything at once then, all the heartbreak I ever went through to get here.

“I can’t imagine giving this baby up. And it’s barely 3 months. What you were willing to do to give me a better life-“

She breaks off and Philippe squeezes her shoulder. I watch my daughter try to gain control of her emotions. I remember when I was pregnant with her, anything would set me off.

“It must not have been easy. After carrying me like this for 9 whole months. Thank you-“ she looks up to where Harry’s standing. I barely register his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you as my mum and dad, for making the hardest decision I can imagine ever making, so I could have something you knew you couldn’t provide.”

I reel my tears in, save them for later that night in bed while Harry holds me tight against him.

Right now I kiss my daughter and tell her what a good mother she will make. I tell her and Philippe how proud I was of them, how excited, how wonderful this was.

Age 46

The day we meet our granddaughter is seared into my brain. We get the call at 8:35pm, Harry and I were staying in a B&B in Coventry despite Bridget’s mum insisting we stay with her. We’d been here all weekend, booked it all week, not wanting to miss Bridget’s delivery date.

“Y/N she’s here,” her mum whispers into the phone. Her voice is filled with joy and giddiness. “She’s here.”

“We’re coming,” I say. Harry’s already at the door and we rush out into the night to see our granddaughter.

She has the perfect little face, and when she finally wakes up I gasp when I see Harry’s eyes looking back at me. I turn to him, to see if he noticed, but he’s teary-eyed and gazing at the baby in awe. I soak it in for a second, imagining this exact look if we’d kept our baby so many years ago.

Bridget’s parents had given us the room, to give us a moment alone, and I can’t be more grateful. Bridget encourages us to hold her and as her soft body is pressed into my body I let out a sob and hand her over to Harry. I excuse myself and step outside the room.

Lou’s kids sit on the floor outside, playing with whatever toys are spilling out of a miniature backpack. I focus on the flashy colours, trying to calm down, counting the number of toys falling out.

My life was a 180 from 10 years ago. This moment would go down in our history books as one of the best days of our lives.

But I can’t deny the bittersweet. The experience threatens to push me into the bitter past of not even getting to hold Baby Bridget. But with it comes an undeniable sweetness of getting to experience this now.

I take a deep breath and walk back in. Harry and Bridget stop mid-sentence and turn to me. Bridget’s face is streaked with tears, Harry’s looks concerned but I smile. He sits with the pink bundle to his chest and I ache.

“Don’t look so obvious you were talking about me,” I try a joke.

“Are you alright?” Bridget asks.

“May I hold her?” I ask in return.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she’s placed in my arms; she’s perfect. Just as perfect as Bridget must have been.

“She’s got Philippe’s hair,” I gently stroke the wispy blonde strands.

“She’s got my eyes, her grandpa’s eyes.”

I look at Harry. And he catches the stricken look on my face when Bridget tips forward and whispers to her baby.

“Look baby, this is your mumma’s mum, and your mumma’s dad. You’ve got his beautiful eyes. Say hi to grandma!”

My throat tightens. “Bridge.”

She leans away, her eyes dart between us. “I know I call you Y/N and Harry. It made it easier at first but…you are my mum and dad. Even though I have another pair. You are my mum and dad. And I want her to know you like that.”

“Oh love,” Harry leans down and kisses the top of our daughter’s head. She keeps her green eyes trained on me, grasping my hand that’s wrapped under her baby’s.

I mouth a thank you, my voice couldn’t pass through the block in my throat. She squeezes my hand and it sets the baby off. Remembering when my nephews were this young, I just hand her back to Bridget knowing she only wanted her mum.

Harry and I stay in the waiting room. We couldn’t go home, even though we had spent our allotted time we had inside the room, we stay there.

We watch Lou’s kids as Bridget’s family gathers in her room. We stay as they fall asleep, draped over us. I remember when Taylor’s kids were this small, they would fall asleep anywhere.

We talk in whispers, I don’t remember what about exactly. Mostly how excited we were. How there was so much to look forward to. How different our lives looked a decade ago.

“One day we’ll tell our grandkids,” I remember Harry saying. “We’ll tell them all about us, how we met, how our love burned so bright it shone in the sky. We lost each other but our love was always there to guide us back home.”

“We’ll see them grow up, all the memories we missed.”

“We’ll change diapers.”

“We’ll change diapers,” I giggle, half-delirious by the lack of sleep. It was probably 2am and I was tired.

When I gaze up at Harry I remember him holding our granddaughter. I replace her with Bridget. For a minute I allow myself to imagine how that would have been.

“I think you would have made an amazing mum if we did things differently,” Harry whispers into my hair.

“You too.” I whisper back.

“An amazing mum? You think?” The edge of his lips tug upwards.

“Harry,” I warn. We had kids sleeping on us we were trying not to wake.

“I love you.” He says in response. “To the stars and back.”

On our drive home I can’t stop looking at him. I always wondered how it would be like to grow old with someone; when I was younger and watch my own parents celebrate anniversaries. And then when I was older and my first marriage was so rocky.

But thinking about it now is like a simple mathematical equation. You take two lives, two individuals, and you bracket them in love. You add an exponent—the decision to continue choosing each other. And you get a lifelong commitment. No matter the situation, no matter the challenges or the changes, you choose to choose each other.

His side profile lights up by an oncoming car. For a second he’s the same boy I feel in love with, a few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkles, and a moustache. But he’d always be the boy I followed out to the roof, who held my hand in our high school hallway, the one who turned an I into a we when I got pregnant, I see the man I had coffee with after a run-in at the Whole Foods, I see the broken heart from a harsh life sitting on the steps of a church, I see a bookworm, I see a father, a husband, and now a grandfather. I see the one person who knows me like the back of his hand. The one I am home with always.

“What is it?” Harry asks as we pull into our b&b. “Have you been asleep this whole ride or have you been staring at me?”

“Staring at you?” I ask. “You think I was staring at you the whole ride?”

“Well you were really silent. And facing me

“I was thinking.”

“About me?”

“Why are you so desparate!? Do I not show you enough love regularly?”

“I could always use more,” Harry looks half asleep as we reach our door.

“The people are right: you give someone a hand and watch as they take the whole arm,” I tease.

“When you gave me your hand, I made you a wife.” Harry retorts.

“Ooh,” I poke him. “I have to say that’s a good comeback for being half-asleep.”

Harry grins back. “You keep me sharp.”

“And you keep me happy. Now open the door so I can stop freezing out here!”

We walk into the warmth of our b&b.

For so much of our lives, our past decisions haunted us. We let so much go. Now life was repaying us, returning it all back, with interest.

***

In a small b&b in the middle of a town called Coventry, two lovers crawl into bed. They’d just become grandparents and they carry an exhausted buzz about them as they try to fall asleep. They’re both thinking of the other, of their daughter, of the tiny bundle they held in their arms today.

Some 20 minutes away their daughter lays in a hospital bed, an exhausted buzz putting her to sleep. She dreams of her mother who gave her up, how she had found her parents in the end, and dreams about the kind of mother she’ll be.

A few doors down lay her newborn daughter, she doesn’t dream of much, not yet, but she’s in for a lifetime of love.

Most of life is what we made it. Y/N and Harry loved deeply enough to make it.

———————————————

TAGLIST: @quinnwritezz @unknownnbihh @dilfhrrys @umadirectioner @hermionelove @anonymous-91 @meganxfddf

[bteezxyewriter12]

Text Disaster

Pairing- Hobi x Named Reader

Word count- 3.2k

Includes- Oral, pussy eating, cum eating, dirty talk, cock riding, squirting, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Hobi Masterlist

J POV

"I haven't done blonde in awhile and ARMYS liked it last time so I figured why not?", he says

I nod, smiling at him, "It's light this time though. But still looks good"

He laughs, "Thanks. It was like a neon yellow for the butter video but it washed out and I'm left with this"

"I like it a lot", I compliment, my cheeks heating up

God, I'm so fucking bad at flirting

Especially when it's Hobi

He's just so... gorgeous and he makes me nervous

Even though I've known him for a few years now

Through my best friend Namjoon

Namjoon said the guys were going to a bar to hang out tonight and asked me to come

Apparently the guys were bringing friends

Hobi and I both wanted a drink so we went to the bar together

He got his drink while I'm waiting for mine

"Your hair is pretty too", he says, looking at my purple and blue hair, "Like the braid. The colors look cool mixed like that"

I blush harder, "Thanks"

"You're welcome", he smiles, making me swoon at those dimples

Goddamn

I hear my drink being called out by the bartender

"I'll be right back"

He nods

We wandered a bit from the bar to give more people room to order

Squeezing between people, the bartender hands me my drink

"Thanks", I say, then take out some money and put it in the tip jar

"Thanks!", he smiles

I nod, then move out from between two guys

I look for Hobi and when I spot him, my heart deflates

Some girl dressed in super revealing skanky clothes is flirting with him

Smiling, batting her eyes, her hand on his arm as she giggles

And he smirks at her as he talks

I wasn't even gone for two minutes and he's already flirting with another girl

Not that he can't but he made it seem like he was gonna wait for me

And I'm not interrupting them

It'd just be awkward

I'm pissed

Namjoon dragged me here, hyping me up to get with Hobi tonight

Or at least talk him up

I even dressed up

Black mini skirt, red lace tank top and heels

Clothes I had to buy for tonight because I so do not wear this on a regular basis

It was all for nothing

Turning away, I walk to the other side of the bar, sit at a stool and take my phone out

I'm gonna blow up at Namjoon

Why the fuck isn't he answering?

I clearly told him he'd get sex tonight

Normally he'd be at my side immediately

We don't sleep together a lot

Only when one of us is very stressed or angry

Just to get the feelings out

And that's all it is

But he's not answering and I'm getting more pissed

Glancing up, I'm startled when I notice Namjoon across the bar

Engrossed in a conversation with a girl

His phone is on the bar, face down, his hand no where near it

There's no way he got into a conversation that fast

Especially not when I was offering sex

He would not stop to talk to a girl if we were going to leave

So that means I wasn't texting him

If I wasn't texting him, then who the fuck was I texting?

I open my phone and look at the recipient of my messages

And proceed to go into a sheer panic

Hobi

Oh my fucking god, I was texting Hobi all that

He knows

Oh fuck, he knows I love....oh my god I need to get the fuck out of here right now

I need to go home and go AWOL for awhile

Until he doesn't remember this conversation anymore

Fat chance of that

Oh god, I can never hang out with BTS again

I need to go

I stand up from the stool and turn around, my heart jumping in my throat when I see Hobi standing behind me

Oh fuck

I can't do this confrontation right now

We just stare at each other for a few seconds then he comes closer to me

I feel like I'm gonna throw up

He reaches out, his fingers pushing some stray hairs behind my ear

He leans forward and suddenly he's kissing me, his lips so soft, so smooth against mine

I grab onto his shirt to steady myself as my head spins and the ground sways beneath my feet

Oh my god, this kiss is fucking perfect

It's just a simple sweet kiss and it rocks my world

All too soon he pulls slightly away from me, his eyes on mine

"You have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for you"

I blink in complete shock

What?

Which is what I say

"I thought you'd never notice me"

Is he kidding?

He's all I noticed

"Come home with me?", he asks shyly, then leans closer to my ear, "I'll let you ride me until all your frustrations are gone"

I swallow hard as he pulls back, suddenly smirking and the cocky Jay persona he has when he's in America comes out

I just nod, his smirk widens and he grabs my hand, dragging me behind him

And I follow him so willingly

--------------------------------

He kisses me hard, his tongue playing with mine as his hands tear clothes off me

He made it to his apartment in record time

Once inside his apartment, his lips have not left mine as he carried me to his bed, laid me on it and got on top of me

I managed to get the buttons of his shirt open while he got my skirt and panties off

Shoving it off his body, I whimper seeing his hard muscles in his chest and abs

Fuck, I just got so much more wetter

He sits up, his hands grabbing the hem of my lace tank top, pulling and tearing it down the middle, the sound of the fabric ripping so satisfying

"Fuck, you're tits look so good in this bra", he murmurs, his hands cupping my boobs over the red lacy bra I wore to match the shirt, "Too bad it has to come off"

With that he lifts me up easily, taking the remnants of my shirt off, my bra following

He lays me back down, his eyes running all over my body, his eyes wide, desire pooling in them

"My god, you're fucking perfect", he murmurs, his hands squeezing my boobs, then running down my body, his fingers leaving fire in their wake

When he reaches my thighs, he opens my legs, his eyes immediately lighting up

"Fuck you're so wet", he says, mesmerizingly, "Is this because of me?"

I nod, "Yes Hobi"

"Is this all for me?"

"Yeah Hobi"

His eyes move to mine, "Are you all for me?"

"Always", I answer truthfully

He smiles, leaning over me, his mouth so close to mine

"I'm all for you Jo. Always"

Then he's kissing me passionately but the kiss is gone as soon as it was there

And his mouth is now pressed against my pussy, his tongue licking rapidly, his voice moaning into me as pure pleasure consumes my body

My hand slides in his blond hair, holding on as his tongue runs along my cunt then slides down and into my hole

I gasp at the bliss, my cunt squeezing his tongue hard, his moans sending vibrations up my spine

"Hobi", I cry

"Fuck yes", he groans, his hands digging into my thighs as he keeps them wide open, "Fuck moan my name baby. God, always wanted to hear you moan my name"

Shit, he wasn't kidding when he said he was waiting for me to notice him

His tongue moves fast, fucking into my hole, the sounds of him eating me out so messily so fucking hot

His mouth sucks as his tongue repeatedly slides in and out, both of us moaning the entire time

His wet tongue slides up then rolls over my clit, intense pleasure running up my spine as I cry out

"Fuck, your pussy tastes so good", he groans, lapping at my clit, "And your fucking clit baby, fuck. Throbbing so hard. Gonna let me suck on you?"

"Yes Hobi!", I yell, in so much bliss

Fuck, he can do anything to me as long as this euphoria stays

As long as it's him doing it

"Mmm good girl", he moans, now using the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth

"Oh god, oh god", I moan, feeling the pleasure building

Pulling his hair, he moans loudly his mouth latching onto my clit and sucking hard

"Fuck!", I shout, looking down between my legs to the completely erotic sight of Jung, Hoseok eating me out

He looks completely at home, like he could just stay there, eating my cunt all day

His eyes move to me, watching me as he continues, his hard jaw moving with each suck

My hips move involuntarily, fucking into his face and he nods, his brown eyes not leaving mine

We move like that together, my legs shaking around his head, my orgasm building and building

I'm so close and the next move of his beautiful mouth has me coming so fucking hard as I scream his name

"Hoseok!"

I can't, the bliss is so fucking good, taking over every inch of me

He sucks me though it, moaning like he's getting blown

When I finish, his tongue moves to my hole, licking away, groaning loudly

"So fucking good. So good"

When he pulls away, he sits up, his face drenched in my cum and juice, making me blush

"Promise I can eat your cunt everyday", he demands

My mouth drops in shock at his words

"Promise baby", he repeats

"I...I promise", I answer

That will not be a problem

None at all

"Good girl", he smirks, sending a shiver up my back

I really like him calling me that

He gets off the bed, getting out of his jeans and boxers

I gape at his huge hard cock

Like really, that is so fucking massive

He just smirks, his hand wrapping around his length, stroking it a few times

"Ready to ride me?"

I blink, "Uh-"

"You said you wanted to ride Namjoon until you're not pissed anymore", he reminds me, "Sorry to say that you're not riding him anymore. Ever again actually. Not as long as you're mine"

I just nod, his words sinking in

This is more than just a one time thing to him

And that makes me so happy

"Whenever you're pissed off and you need to fuck away frustrations, you ride me"

"Ok", I agree, immediately

He nods, moving on the bed, kissing me softly before laying down

"C'mon aegi", he says

I smile and immediately climb in his lap

"There's my good girl", he murmurs, holding his cock up for me

Hovering over him, I move down, feeling his head right against my entrance

"Sit baby"

I push down on his cock, shivers of pleasure running up my spine as his fat dick spreads my cunt around him

"Oh fuck yes", he groans, his hands on my hips, helping me down, "So tight baby. Feels so good"

We are a tight fit, my pussy opening just enough to let him in

My cunt sucks his cock inside me as I move down, each fat inch pushed into me making me wetter and wetter

I have never been in such pleasure just getting a dick inside me

"Yes Hobi", I murmur, moving my hips in a circle to open my cunt more on his dick

"God, you're throbbing so hard already", he moans, his head pushed back into the pillow, "Fuck, you like my cock inside you this much?"

"Yes Hobi", I whimper, as I bottom him out, rocking on his perfect cock, his head in the perfect angle to rub against my spot, "So much"

"Mm I can see that baby", he murmurs, "You're moving on my cock already"

"So good Hobi", I moan, closing my eyes, grinding on him, "Fuck, big cock baby. So big"

I lean on his abs, starting to bounce softly on him, only sliding a little bit up his cock

"Yes baby. Keep going", he urges, as I slip up his cock more and more with every bounce, taking him deep inside, "So fucking pretty for me. Pretty little pussy taking my cock greedily inside her, creaming my cock like a waterfall. Pretty body out for me to watch. And you're beautiful face aegi, feeling so good because of me"

"Mmm hmm", I moan, riding him harder, his cock so deep I can feel him in my stomach

It feels phenomenal

I can hear how wet my cunt is, the squelching sounds mixing with the rhythmic slap of my ass hitting his legs with every move

Sex has seriously never felt this good before

Never

His moans are so pretty, his hands gripping my thighs hard, pleasure all over his face

Pleasure I'm giving him

It's surreal

I keep moving faster, now sliding up to his head and bottoming him out over and over, the pleasure increasing

How does he feel this good?

How?

Each bounce brings me closer and closer, the pressure in my stomach ready to snap

I take him in again, my body thrown into an utterly blissful orgasm, the ecstasy something I haven't felt before

"Hoseok!", I scream, my whole body shaking uncontrollably, "Hoseok!"

I vaguely hear him moaning about how good it feels but I can't concentrate on anything but the pleasure

When I finally finish, I open my eyes I didn't know I closed and look at him

He's gazing up at me in awe, "That was the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen"

I just raise my eyebrow, no longer shy

"And it felt so good too", he smirks

I giggle, leaning over and kissing his soft lips

He kisses me back and I'm in heaven

When we pull away, I press a kiss to the completely adorable and hot as fuck beauty mark on his lip

I always wanted to kiss that

Moving my finger over the mark, I murmur, "I love this. I hate when they cover it up in pictures"

His cheeks blush an adorable red , making me smile softly

I kiss the mark again, then sit up, ready to move on him again

Leaning on his abs, I start bouncing, watching the pleasure on his face

He's so fucking beautiful, his body drenched in sweat, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, his mouth slight open as he breathes

His hands move up my body, slowly touching my sweaty skin, his fingers feeling so fucking good

I move faster on him, his cock feeling so good, spreading me wide open for him

He's so hard, every clench around him feels amazing and I can feel every inch of him

My brain is turning off from the euphoria, my skin trembling

His hands move around my boobs, kneading them as his fingers pinch my nipples

"Hobi!", I cry, my pussy gushing around him as the bliss is turned up

"Mmm so wet baby. Love listening to this little pussy fuck my dick"

One hand drops to my clit, fingers rubbing, making me shout in pleasure

"Yeah aegi", he urges, "Cum for me baby. Wanna feel you gush around my cock"

I whine, leaning over, my hands on his shoulders as I ride him the hardest and fastest I can

"That's it baby", he smirks, "Ride my cock just like that. Fuck you feel so good. Pretty tight pussy so good"

His fingers keep moving as I bounce, his voice so desperate, his skin shivering under mine

He's close too

"Please cum around my cock baby", he begs, "I need to fill you with cum"

God, I want that so much and those words are just the push I need to fall headfirst into my orgasm

"Hoseok!", I scream, stars blasting in my vision as I squirt all over him, clenching on his cock so tightly

"Yes, yes yes baby!", he yells, "Fuck! Joanne!"

His cock throbs inside me, then I feel his warm cum filling me right up

I watch him orgasm and it is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen

He's so ethereal

"Baby", he groans as we finish, pulling me down on top of him

I lay on his shoulder, burying my face in his neck, holding onto him tightly

His arms move around my back, one secure around me, the other running in my hair

"I love you", he says softly

My entire body is shocked as I lift my head, staring at him in disbelief

I had no idea what he felt was love

Lust yes

Like yes

But love?

I didn't think he was there yet

"Don't look so shocked Jo", he says, smiling softly, "You're not the only one who unloaded your feelings on Namjoon"

"Namjoon knew?", I ask, surprised

"That I'm stupidly in love with you? Yeah he knows", he nods, "He told me he would get you to come tonight so I can talk to you. Maybe ask you out if I got the courage to"

Ok that's surprising

But what about that girl?

She swooped in right away and he didn't look for me until after I mistake texted him

"But I saw you with that girl-"

"That didn't mean anything Jo", he says, "She just showed up out of nowhere. I wanted her to leave me alone. The second I was able to get away from her I did. It was actually your texts that got me away from her"

That's ironic

"But you flirted with her"

He shakes his head, "No Jo. She flirted with me. I just smiled awkwardly to try not be rude"

I dunno

Maybe I thought he was flirting because I was so heated

I don't know

"Look at me baby", he says, his hands cupping my face

I raise my eyes to his, seeing the love in them

He really does love me

"How could I ever want anyone but you", he murmurs, "I never could. I don't want any girl but you. You never have to be jealous aegi. Never. I want only you. I love you. You're perfect. My perfect everything"

I can't help the smile that creeps on my face

"I love you too Hobi. You're kinda my everything too"

He smiles widely, his adorable dimples on display, "You have no idea how happy that makes me aegi"

Oh I know because I'm over the fucking moon

"Well this night turned out better than I expected", he laughs

I giggle, running my fingers in his hair, "So much better"

I lean down, kissing his perfect lips, so happy that he's mine and I can have his kisses all the time now

After the kiss, we cuddle into each other, his hand back in my hair, playing with it

"Sleepy time?", I ask

He nods, chuckling, "Sleepy time baby. Are you comfy?"

I nod, snuggling into him, "You're so soft baby. My Hobi pillow"

He laughs, kissing my forehead, "I love you"

"I love you", I answer

Closing my eyes, I lay in my boyfriend's arms, so happy I fucked up the texting tonight

[betterthanyalls]

yo wsp gang, didn't mean to die momentarily there anyways i made this oneshot for a pookie wookie dookie as a gift for something i dont remember

Behind The Curtain

Masterlist

Bonnie x Reader

Words: 5.5K

Published: 5-23-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ew. 

That was Y/n’s first thought when she entered the workplace for her new job.

Ew to the smell of greasy pizza. 

Ew to the smell of sweat.

Ew to the dirty building.

Ew to everything.

She walked into the room more, which seemed similar to a showroom. There was a stage on the front with its curtains opened, revealing three large animatronics. 

A blue—or purple—rabbit on the left had a red guitar in its arms. 

A brown bear in the middle. He—she assumed—had a small top hat and held a microphone.

Then she saw the yellow chicken—or duck thing—who possessed a small, pink cupcake.

What an odd bundle. She turned around to catch a glimpse of a smaller stage. She whirled back around to look at it. A fox animatronic was placed on the small stage; the fox seemed to represent a pirate with an eyepatch and a hook. Y/n just shrugged and began walking to the office. The employer she talked to hours earlier informed her that she’d just be an after-hours janitor after the last one went AWOL. 

When she reached the office, she looked at the wall clock. 

12:03 AM

Already midnight? Time flies when you want to die, huh?

….

Anyway, Y/n looked around for a little bit before spotting a slip of notebook paper. She picked it up and began to read it. 

“Hello, I wanted to write this note for you so you know what you have to do tonight and to help you get settled in. There isn’t much to do; just finish the tasks before 6 AM.

Sweep floors

Clean up trash

Wash tables

Organize the main room

Make sure the animatronics are clean

Nothing too hard except for one more. We couldn’t hire a mechanic to do it, so I hope you have some experience with robots. Bonnie has been getting stuck during performances recently, and his guitar seems to be out of tune too. All you have to do is take off Bonnie's torso to access his wires, endoskeleton, and gears to see what the issue is. Be careful though, he is a very heavy thing; being an animatronic and all.

His guitar isn’t too much of a problem either; just turn the tuners until you hear a small ding. That should indicate that it is tuned properly. That should be all for tonight. 

Goodnight, employee; and don’t forget, be done by 6 a.m. sharp.”

Well, he sure likes writing.

Y/n took the paper and folded it, slipping it into her front pant pocket. Might as well start now.

She went back to the party room and began cleaning up the trash from all the tables. Once she was done, she took out the paper and crossed “Clean up trash" off the list. 

Y/n walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a washcloth and a broom. She started washing all the tables off, making sure there wasn’t any leftover pizza grease. If the day shift employees won’t keep this place semi-clean, she might as well step up.

Once she finished washing the tables off, she did the same as before and crossed the goal off her list. Y/n grabbed the broom and began sweeping out under all the tables. She was humming a soft song to herself, so she wasn’t in complete silence. Y/n was just putting some chairs back into their places when she looked up to the stage to see a sight that confused and spooked her. 

Bonnie was staring directly at her.

Creepy. Y/n stared back at him, not risking losing the unspoken staring contest. Her stare turned into a glare as she held back from blinking, her eyes becoming extremely dry. After what seemed like an eternity, a sudden noise made Y/n flinch and blink. “UGH! That’s cheating you, rabbit!” Y/n pointed to him with a glare.

She turned to where the noise originated from, looking at the kitchen door. She kept staring for a little bit, trying to imagine what could’ve made the noise. She sighed through her nose and turned back to the stage. 

Huh? Bonnie wasn’t looking at her anymore; he was looking straight forward. 

“What?” Y/n whispered. 

There was no way she was insane and imagined that whole staring contest. Y/n propped her broom on a nearby table and walked up to him slowly, not taking her eyes off of him. She sacrificed her sweeping job so she could jump to the next one, fixing Bonnie. Once she reached the ledge of the stage in front of Bonnie, she climbed up onto it. The robot towered over her, and to be completely honest, it intimidated her a little. “Ok rabbit, let’s see why you’re so weird,” Y/n muttered to herself, taking his guitar and setting it off to the side with very strained effort. 

Y/n grasped her hands onto the split of his front torso to his back torso and tugged hard. She yanked onto the covering so hard that it resulted in her almost falling off stage. She threw her arms out in a position that resembled that of a kid pretending to be a bird to steady herself. Once she finally got her balance back, Y/n set the torso onto the stage floor and walked towards Bonnie. 

Gosh, he was a mess. Wires tangling everywhere, metal rusting, bolts loose. He would need a lot of help.

Y/n stepped down from the stage, walked to the Supply Closet, and began searching for anything to help. She grabbed some WD-40, a wrench, scrap metal, nuts and bolts, and other miscellaneous items to help. Y/n exited the closet with her arms full of supplies. She struggled a little to get back on the stage without dropping anything, but eventually, she did get up there. 

"Alright, bud, let’s hop to it.” She smiled goofily and let out a chuckle at her stupid pun. Y/n looked at Bonnie, not expecting a reaction but still feeling like joking around. “Nothing? Fine, then, be salty.” Y/n set the supplies down and grabbed the wrench, beginning to unscrew all the rusted bolts and tightening the loose bolts. 

She continued working for a little over two hours. She never noticed how Bonnie would glance down at her or how his ears would perk if she accidentally touched certain wires.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she was finished working on Bonnie. She bled, sweat, and almost cried one too many times, but she was done. 

Taking a step back, Y/n admired her work. Bonnie’s insides went from a jumbled mess to organized and spiffed up. She smiled to herself, turning her back to the rabbit so she could put away her tools. The animatronic in question took this as his chance to take as much of a glance as he could to see the work that Y/n did. 

The wires that helped connect all his servos and joints were in organized and straight rows. Nothing was misplaced or messed up. To say Bonnie was impressed was an understatement. Y/n then turned back to face the rabbit, but she wasn’t looking at him directly. She took a few steps forward and picked up the heavy guitar so she could tune it. Realizing it was way too heavy to stand and fix, Y/n sat down on the edge of the stage next to Bonnie’s torso piece and laid the instrument in her lap.

“So I gotta turn the little nods till a ding?” The girl muttered, trying to remember what the note said exactly. But instead of doing the smart thing and taking the note out to reread the instructions, Y/n winged it. Grabbing the first tuning peg, she began to turn it forward. Now and then, Y/n would pluck the string to see if it sounded decent enough. Y/n was so caught up in tuning the electric instrument that she flinched hard at the loud ding she hadn’t expected. She exhaled when she realized it was just the signal that the first peg was done. 

Moving onto the second peg, Y/n worked just as focused as before. Lost in thought while also focusing on the guitar, the gazing rabbit went unnoticed. Bonnie just stared at her curiously, assuming his friends were still deactivated. His assumptions were wrong. Freddy and Chica shared a glance when they saw Bonnie and the janitor. Why wasn’t he attacking her? Why was he just staring like a lovesick fool? As much as they would’ve loved to tear the worker apart and stuff her in a suit as they had with the night guards; both of the animatronics knew better than to ruin this for their comedic relief friend, especially since it was technically his night to hunt, being the first of the week. Plus, the girl wasn’t doing anything harmful—just the opposite. She was cleaning up the rabbit and taking her time to make sure his instrument was in good condition, something that had gone unattended to by all the other workers at the pizzeria. Giving each other a side glance, they both just shrugged off the whole situation.

It didn’t take long for Y/n to finish tuning the guitar. She took the musical device off her lap and set it beside her, getting off of the stage to grab some cleaning supplies from the closet. If she was fixing the bunny, why not spiff him up a little too? Walking into the closet, Y/n once again paid no mind to the odd robot skeleton. Rummaging through the shelves and the random items that occupied them, Y/n found what she was looking for. The young adult held a cloth, some guitar liquid polish, and a carpet cleaner spray bottle. She figured the carpet cleaner would be the best option for animatronic fur. 

Y/n walked out of the closet while reading the labels on the spray bottles to check again that she had the right products. “Here Bonnie, I got some polish and cleaner to sharpen you up-“ The young adult cut herself off when she looked up to an odd and slightly scary sight. The guitar was back in the rabbit's hands. Fear and confusion were the only emotions Y/n felt as she simply stood and stared at the robot. She took a second to look around, silently hoping to see one of her co-workers who wanted to play a prank on the ‘newbie’. But to her dismay and only inducing more fear within her, she was the only human in the entire pizzeria. “Calm down, Y/n. You probably put the guitar back in his hands and don’t remember. Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.” Y/n told herself, trying to comfort her unease. But as much as she told herself differently, Y/n knew that she never put the instrument in Bonnie’s hands. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/n gathered the confidence she needed to walk up to Bonnie. She set the cleaning supplies down on the stage floor before climbing up herself. Hoisting herself up and regaining her balance, Y/n cautiously took the instrument from the robot and sat down again. Taking some polish, she began to rub it across Bonnie's guitar, making sure not to miss any spots. Some of the liquid polish the rag held had seeped through and slightly stained the palm of Y/n’s hand, but she continued to wipe the instrument. It didn’t take long for her to notice how the guitar's body reflected the neon lights that surrounded the ceiling of the pizzeria. It felt oddly nostalgic to be able to see the lights bounce off the guitar, though she wasn’t sure why it’d be nostalgic if she hadn’t seen it before. 

The polishing took a short time to finish, but it wasn’t useless. The electrical prop shined like never before and glistened under the bright lights of the stage. Y/n stood up while holding the guitar and still looking into the reflection. She figured that standing would make it easier to see the shine, plus she had to give the instrument back now that she had finished cleaning it. The shimmer of light, oddly enough, was a breathtaking view for something so small. Everything seemed to be placed perfectly. Y/n only now noticed how she could see the mirroring image of a certain rabbit animatronic in the reflection. Tilting her head, the worker couldn’t help but think that Bonnie was staring back at her. Y/n spun around quickly, looking up at the robot, only to see that he was staring forward just like before. 

“Hm, odd,” she murmured. “I’m probably just hallucinating from lack of sleep.” Y/n reasoned with herself. She placed the guitar delicately back into the rabbit's hands, making sure it all looked nice. When she got the placement as well as she could, Y/n looked at her wrist to check her watch. Only 3:57 AM. She figured it would’ve been a lot earlier in the morning with how long working on Bonnie felt. Sighing, Y/n stared at the animatronic for a few moments before turning and crouching to grab the carpet cleaner spray bottle, which conveniently had a scrub on its nozzle. 

Y/n grabbed his upper arm, getting ready to begin scrubbing, but she was caught off guard by how light the arm felt. She could’ve sworn the note guy told her that Bonnie was beyond heavy. Deciding that the interior work she did earlier must’ve loosened the joints and whatnot, Y/n shrugged it off. "Ok, so I’m not exactly sure how to do this... but what’s the worst that could happen?” Y/n asked with a lopsided grin.

It turns out, a lot. 

To start with, the soap wasn’t soaking into the blue-ish indigo fur. Next, Y/n was actually terrified and unsure if the soap would make Bonnie short circuit, causing her to accidentally spill some soap beneath both of them. Then Y/n slipped in the soap and almost broke her arm against the stage. All in all, she was not having a fun time. Y/n laid on her back, not having the motivation to stand up after falling on her left arm and then rolling to her back. Another sigh left her lips as the girl stared up at the ceiling tiredly. “Why did I sign up for this?” She asked no one in particular. A sudden chiming echoed throughout the restaurant, making Y/n prop herself up on her elbows. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked around curiously. The noise sounded like a grandfather clock with children’s laughter behind it. Saying that Y/n was creeped out was an understatement. Slowly but steadily, she moved to a crouching position, then boosted herself up carefully to stand. She made sure to be cautious with the soap. Taking a glance at her watch, it read 6:00 AM. “Six already? I wouldn’t be surprised if I time-traveled or something.” She mumbled, jumping off the stage and walking over to the broom leaning against the table. Looking back, Y/n saw just how much of a mess she made in the short time frame. 

Debating, Y/n weighed her options about whether she should clean it all up or not. But with one more look at the mess, she slouched her posture and grabbed the broom next to her before walking back to the stage. Taking the bottle and rags in her hand not occupied by the broom. Walking back to the storage closet, Y/n grabbed a mop and bucket, then walked back to the stage. She heaved up the filled bucket onto the stage and climbed up, setting to work. It didn’t take long, and she finally left the restaurant at 6:32 AM. Sitting in her car, Y/n drove out of the parking lot with heavy eyes. Music from the radio blasted inside the small car, trying to keep the girl awake. Eventually, after many red lights, Y/n got home and fell face first onto her couch, being encased by sleep immediately.

Weeks, even months, went by like this. She became a full-time night janitor at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Thankfully, she had never gotten stuck with bathroom cleaning—only the main room and the animatronics. Over time, however, Y/n began to notice more strange things happening around Bonnie whenever she was near. Sometimes Bonnie would look deliberately messy, so she’d have to clean him, or how his guitar was oddly always messed up, no matter how much she fixed it in the nights before. Either way, she enjoyed spending more time around him, even though he was just a robot. She could ramble on about her day while fixing his wires or make jokes about how she couldn’t tell if he was blue or purple when she cleaned his fur.

It was nearing her first full year at the establishment as Y/n exited her home. She entered her car and turned up the volume on the radio. Humming along to the music, Y/n drove for about half an hour before she made it to the building. But her happy mood came to an abrupt end after seeing the event. Excavators, bulldozers, and other machines were surrounding the building with caution tape wrapped around poles to make a perimeter. Rapidly exiting her car, Y/n ran over to where her manager stood nearby. “What’s going on?!” 

“Oh, L/n, you should’ve gotten my email about 10 minutes ago. We are demolishing the building.” Her manager, Scott Drew, spoke with his signature southern accent. “But why?” Y/n was panicking; she was now jobless and had no idea what she'd do. “Too many complaints, not enough money for bills or paychecks. Sorry, L/n, but we’re outta business.” And that was that. 

It had now been 6 months since Y/n found a new job as a delivery woman for a local Panda Express. In total, it has been almost a full year since Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was demolished. It was big news all around social media, but no one knows what the owners did with the animatronics, not even the highest-level employees. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss Bonnie. Sitting on the couch in her living room, Y/n was playing on her phone as the TV ran quietly in the background. “Now for our next story of the afternoon. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria is having a grand re-opening. Over to Mae at the restaurant now.”

Y/n almost fell off her couch when she heard that. Throwing her phone beside her on the couch, Y/n jumped for the remote and spammed the volume button. “Thank you, Bernard. I am standing in front of the new Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. There is already quite a large crowd gathering here, and the doors haven’t even opened yet.” Mae, the reporter, gestured to the families behind her. But Y/n was in too much shock to care about the crowds gathering. Shooting up from her spot, she sprinted around the house, trying to grab important items and get proper clothes on before darting out the door to her car. Getting in the car, Y/n drove off a little over the speed limit to get to the pizzeria. Dramatic? Yes. Once-in-a lifetime opportunity? Only if people were as crazy as her. 

It didn’t take long for her to arrive. When she got there, the doors were just opening, and the news crew was still outside. Walking towards the doors while being surrounded by people, Y/n kept her hands clutched in front of her thighs and her eyes low. She made her way to stand next to her former boss, who was standing on the side and watching his new restaurant flood with people and laughter. “Mr. Drew?” Y/n asked softly, trying not to alert anyone but him. Said man whirled around to the young adult that stood almost behind him. “Y/n L/n? Is that you?” The smile on his face told her that he already knew the answer.  

“Hello,” Y/n greeted with a smile. “I know this is extremely sudden, but... I want to work here again.” She spoke with all the courage she could muster. It seemed almost impossible, but the smile on Mr. Drew’s face got bigger. “The same job as last time, I suppose? You were one of my best employees!” He complimented. Not expecting the compliment, a small blush of embarrassment covered her cheeks. “I- thanks. But yeah, a night janitor would be nice,” she responded. "Well, we have no more need for a nightly janitor, but can I offer you a day shift? You get many breaks included; don’t worry.” He reassured her, trying to make an offer she’d agree to. Y/n was not about to throw this opportunity away. "Yeah, that can work.” Y/n agreed. “Great! No need for an interview; I know you’re a hard worker. Can you start tomorrow at nine?” Mr. Drew requested with a courteous smile. Nodding, Y/n walked back to her car and began to drive home, thinking of how lucky she truly was.  

The next day came quickly, and Y/n was standing in Kid’s Cove with a baffled expression. The children had dismantled Mangle once again and simply left her there like a mix-and-match toy. “Oh girl, what did those demons do to you?” Y/n muttered sympathetically. “I’ll get something to fix you up.” So she began walking to the backroom. Making her way through waves of children, Y/n finally arrived in the semi-secluded hallway. There were only a few adults talking around, wanting to get away from the rowdy kids. She continued walking and entered the backroom, shutting the door behind her after flipping on the lights. Now getting a good look around, a gasp left Y/n’s lungs as she took a step back in shock. Bonnie, Freddy, Chica, and Foxy were all back here. Withered away and were destroyed by the ages that passed. 

Bonnie seemed to be in the worst state of them all. He was missing his full face and an arm. As the lights flicked on, Y/n noticed a small jump in Bonnie’s limbs. Slowly getting closer, the worker crouched in front of the animatronic. She got almost face-to-face (or what was left of it) with him, trying to see if anything changed. “Bonnie?” Y/n mumbled under her breath, not sure if she believed this was his fate. Her questions were answered when Bonnie’s eyes flicked into red dots, and he moved his head up to look at her. Y/n let out a yelp of fear as she fell backwards and crawled to the door, still facing Bonnie. The said animatronic didn’t do anything other than stare at her. When her back finally hit the door, Y/n just sat there for a bit, taking in deep breaths with wide eyes. “B..Bonnie?” Y/n asked with fear in her voice. Bonnie merely tilted his head to his right, proving to be more sentient than she had thought. “You...you can understand me..?” She spoke again, but with more steadiness now. He nodded to her question, but neither had moved from their spot on the floor. Slowly, Y/n relaxed her body. First her shoulders, then her jaw and her arms, next her legs, and finally her chest. 

Taking in a few deep breaths, Y/n eased off the door. Bonnie looked at her before deciding he wanted to speak to her for the first time. A glitched and distorted voice filled the room, with words all garbled together. “Y̸̩͓͛ō̷͎̖̚ụ̸̀̂r̷͚͛̚ ̶͕̳͗̿n̸̥͙͑̄ä̷̼̳̽ṁ̴̫̯̚ę̵̎?̵̳̌̈” Confusion washed over her face as Y/n, flinching from the racket but getting used to it quickly, tilted her head. “What did you say?” This prompted Bonnie to try and speak again but it was still as ruined as the first time. “N̶̥̽́̓͠͝a̴̠͙̔̋̀̚͘m̷̡͔̙͉̅̃̔ē̶̟̘̼͖̖͊?̶̫̩̲͆̎̓̕” 

“I’m sorry, bud, I don’t understand." Y/n stopped mid-sentence, her eyes falling onto the spare animatronic pieces across the room. Slowly, leaning on the door to help, she pulled herself up from the floor. Bonnie watched her every move as Y/n walked over to the mechanic's messy table, dust coating every surface. Rummaging through all the items, a small ‘aha’ left her mouth when she found what she was looking for. Turning around to face the active robot, Y/n made her way over to him, holding an assortment of tools in her hands. When she finally reached Bonnie, she crouched in front of him. Y/n could see the curiosity in his body language, and it only made her realize he was much more alive than she thought. "Ok, Bonnie, I need to do some work to fix you up. But I can’t do it while you’re awake. So could I deactivate you for now and turn you back on when I’m done? I only want to help.” Y/n tried to reassure him with comforting words. He looked into her eyes, feeling his fans speed up a little, before giving a small nod. A gracious smile spread on Y/n’s face as she nodded back in confirmation before seeing the red lights dim, then completely shutting off, and his body became slumped once more. 

It didn’t take long before the familiar red eyes that Y/n once and still admired blinked open. Smiling wide, her own eyes were filled with anticipation. Bonnie looked around before setting his gaze on Y/n, his ears perking up in joy. “Hang on, I got something for you!” Y/n turned around and grabbed a mirror behind her. Placing it in front of him, Bonnie saw that he now had both arms and his original face back. “I fixed you up! I even got you a new voice box, and I managed to keep your original voice.” Y/n was smiling so much that it began to hurt her cheeks, but she couldn’t help it. She could see the joy and gratitude in his body and movements. Slowly, he looked back at her, wanting to test his voice. “T̸h̷a̵n̸k̵ ̷y̴o̴u̷”

His voice was still robotic and kind of glitchy, but Y/n could understand him so much better now. “You’re welcome! And look at that! I can understand you now! This is the best day ever!” She cheered, standing up to express her excitement. “N̶a̸m̶e̷?̶” He asked, catching her attention. “My name?” Bonnie nodded in response. “I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.” She greeted him kindly. “Y̸/̸n̸?̴” He spoke, as if trying the name to see how it felt. Her grin widened, if it was even possible, at hearing him say her own name. “Yeah, Y/n.”

Her joy radiated onto him as Bonnie let out a garbled chuckle, making Y/n laugh too. The two of them laughed for who knows how long, simply enjoying each other’s company. After a while, Y/n sat down beside Bonnie and leaned against him slightly as a backrest of some sort. The pair conversed quietly about all sorts of topics that either of them had thought of. From cats to wrenches to house bills. Days and weeks had passed, and each break Y/n got, she would dart to the back room just to talk with Bonnie. And each day that passed, she felt he was just as human as her, only in a different form. 

On her day off, Y/n was sitting on her couch and watching Tik Tok in the darkness of her home. Zoning out at one point, Y/n found herself thinking back to all the times she talked with her robotic friend. He was like her best friend now. It sounds pathetic to have a robot as a friend, but he was basically a pure human in the form of metal. He could feel, see, think, hear, choose, and do anything else a person can. He was just as much of a friend as someone you would have met in kindergarten and grown up with. As Y/n thought back to each encounter and conversation she’d had with him, Y/n felt a smile form and her cheeks warm up. Realizing this, Y/n’s eyes widened. “No, no, no, no.” Setting her phone down and getting up from her seat, the adult began to pace around her room, holding her head in her hands. How could she let this happen? How? Why? Why, why, why? This can’t be real. None of it can be. “I’m just, uh, sleepy, yeah! That’s it! I just need sleep, and everything will be normal again.” Y/n chuckled nervously, trying to convince herself of lies. 

Dragging her feet to her bedroom, Y/n only then realized how tired she really was. Pretty much collapsing on her bed, Y/n was immediately lulled into the presence of sleep. Hours passed in the span of seconds when a loud beep blared throughout the room. Groggily opening her eyes, Y/n raised her hand and let gravity smack her palm onto the snooze button. Falling back into her sleep, she was interrupted rudely once more by the same beeping. Groaning, the young woman rubbed her eyes and hit her alarm again, silencing it for good this time. Rolling off her bed, Y/n, still half awake, changed out of her clothes yesterday and into her work ones. She almost didn’t notice when she put her pants on backwards. Shuffling her way out of her bedroom, Y/n got to the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot before going over to sit on the couch where she had left her phone the previous night. Sighing, Y/n remembered the thoughts of last night too. She’d have to face this one day, the consequences of her own actions.

About an hour or two later, Y/n was walking towards the backroom like usual until a thought stopped her. If she really loved him, who’s to say he ever thought of her in the same way? She didn’t do anything for him to actually enjoy her company, did she? Sure, she fixed him up and talked to him every day, but what if he didn’t want to talk to her? What if he secretly hated her? All these thoughts combined seemed too much for Y/n as she leaned against a nearby wall, hiding from prying eyes. Taking a deep breath in, Y/n calmed herself down and continued her walk to the backroom, trying to suffocate any negative thoughts or emotions that might try to suffocate her first.

Bonnie was in almost the exact same situation, just much more isolated by his deactivated friends. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Like she had nestled herself a small home into his mind, always intruding herself on his thoughts. Her voice, her eyes, her actions, how caring she is, or how she could be so bold yet so timid at the same time. She amazed him in ways he never thought were possible. He couldn’t remember life before seeing her for the first time. How determined she was or how she wanted to help others before herself. Every single attribute and characteristic of her, whether good or bad, held him tightly and never let go. But the problem is that she’d never know. He didn’t plan on telling her now and probably never would. How would she ever accept him as he is? She wouldn’t; that’s the issue. 

The door to the backroom opened, and Y/n walked in as if nothing was on her mind. Neither of them acted out of the ordinary for the whole day. Months had passed, and nothing changed between them. Their feelings grew and grew each day, but they were always cut at the stem for fear of unrequited love. And as this time passed, so did the restaurant’s prosperity. No longer was it ‘Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza! A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life!’, but now it was more so known as the place people went when everywhere else was closed. Eventually, the establishment closed too. With no notice to the workers, the building was shut down. Y/n stood in front of her old place of employment, all entrances barricaded and the light in her eyes fading. She had begged and pleaded with her boss to let her in one last time, but no tears would let her through those doors. She longed to go in somehow, to use an ax to break in and see her friend one last time. But even that would be useless after Mr. Drew told her that every animatronic in the building had been shipped off to the original founders. The original partners who made the franchise.

So, with tears in her eyes and her joy stolen away, Y/n walked to her car and drove off with no destination in mind. All she wanted to do was leave. After all, what was left for her when she couldn’t even admit something as small as her own feelings? With nowhere to end, Y/n began her trek.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Maybe

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bernie "Hondo" Coleman, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, platonic friends

Summary: Hondo knows something is wrong one night when Maverick isn't acting like himself. After a little persuasion, he gets Mav to reveal some painful secrets that affect his past and present. But maybe there is still hope for the future.

Word Count: 1724

TW: Hurt/ Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Angst, Drinking to Numb Pain, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Betrayal, Hondo being a supportive friend

Note: Thank you so much to @green-socks for not only the discussion that this idea developed from, and for beta reading, but also for being such an amazing and supportive friend 💖

Hondo deserves so much more love than he gets so here is my part! I hope you like it!

This was not what Hondo had expected when Maverick asked him for drinks after work. Usually when they went out, Maverick would have a few too many beers, flirt with anyone within a twenty-foot radius, and – if he struck out – would have Hondo drive him home. But the Warrant Officer didn’t mind. Now that his son had left for college, he was never in a hurry to return to his empty apartment.

However, tonight was different. Mav had been downing beers as usual, only this time he was becoming more and more withdrawn with every one he drank. Hondo couldn’t understand it. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened at work that would put him in this kind of mood, and as far as he knew, Maverick wasn’t seeing anyone that might be causing relationship drama. 

But it wasn’t until Maverick finished his fourth beer and started to order a whiskey that Hondo spoke up. “Hey man, maybe you should have a water next? Just slow down a bit. There’s no rush, we can be here all night.”

Mav ignored him and took the drink that the bartender offered him. In a single shot, he downed it before slamming the now-empty glass onto the bartop. “Another.”

But as the bartender turned to get one, Hondo waved him off. Standing up, he grabbed Mav’s arm and tried to ease him off his stool. “No, we’re done here.”

However, Mav just yanked his arm away and growled, “No one’s keeping you here. Go if you want. You’re not my babysitter.”

“Well, it seems like somebody should be if you’re gonna be acting like an idiot…. More of an idiot than usual.” 

Maverick grumbled something under his breath and hunched down deeper into his jacket. Hondo sighed. There was more going on tonight than just a few too many beers and a bad attitude. 

Settling back onto his own stool and adjusting his glasses, Hondo placed his hand on Mav’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Mav. Something is clearly bothering you. Whatever it is, it won’t leave this bar. Just let me help.”

Maverick stared down at the bartop for a long moment. But when he spoke, his words had lost all their harsh bite. Instead, he seemed almost on the verge of tears. “He got his wings today.”

Hondo waited for him to explain further but the Captain remained silent. Softly prodding him, he asked, “Who did?”

“Bradley, my godson. He got his wings today and I couldn’t be there.”

This was the first time Maverick had ever mentioned a godson, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. Whenever Hondo talked to Mav about his son, the other man seemed to understand exactly what he was dealing with. Like he had experience raising, or at least dealing with a teenage boy before. It also perfectly explained this depressive mood Maverick was in. 

Squeezing his shoulder tighter, Hondo said,  “Aw, man. I’m sorry, Mav. You should have said something sooner. Maybe I could have talked to some people, pushed some deadlines. We could have found a way to get you there.”

For the first time that night, Mav gave him the ghost of a smile. “Thanks, Hondo. But getting leave wasn’t the issue. Hell, I would have gone AWOL and faced ten court martials or even let them take my own wings if it meant being there today. But he didn’t want me there. He hasn’t wanted me there for years.”

Maverick tried to catch the bartender’s eye once more, but Hondo drew his attention back to their conversation with an accusatory, “What did you do?”

Mav was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘what did I do’? Why would you just assume–”

“Because I know you, Mav. You’re brass, outspoken, don’t listen to others, and bend the rules to do whatever you think is right. So, if I had to guess, you did something the kid didn’t agree with?”

“Something like that.” When Hondo continued to stare at him, Mav sighed. “He applied to the Naval Academy his senior year of high school, but I got his papers pulled.”

That was not the answer Hondo had been expecting. “Why the hell would you do that? Especially if you are this upset about missing him getting his wings?”

“It’s a long story, but I promised his mom.” Maverick chuckled mirthlessly. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about this except for Ice.”

Hondo released his hold on Maverick’s shoulder and settled back on the stool. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. I just want to help. I hate seeing you like this, man.”

“I know.” Maverick’s smile grew stronger as he looked at the Warrant Officer. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe it would be nice to get it off my chest.”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Bradley’s dad was my RIO and my best friend but I got him killed during a training exercise while we were at Top Gun. After that, I tried my best to help Carole out and tried to be half the dad Goose was.” Maverick’s voice shook slightly and he rubbed his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. “I thought losing Goose was the hardest thing I would ever have to go through, but then Carole got sick. In less than a year she went from the most vibrant, energetic soul to this shell of a person. It was heartbreaking, as was watching Bradley try everything he could to help her through it.”

“She never asked me for a single thing as long as I knew her. But laying there, in her last moments, she asked me to keep Bradley from flying. He had never actually told us, but we both knew he wanted to join the Navy and get his wings. And after what happened to Goose…. She had done so much for me over the years, I had to at least try to honor her wishes. Plus, I just don’t think he was ready. So, when Bradley applied to the Academy, I pulled his papers.”

“I’m so sorry, Mav.” Hondo shook his head, unable to imagine how hard that must have been knowing how much Bradley wanted what Maverick was being asked to take away. Talk about a rock and a hard place. “What did he say when you told him it was what his mother wanted?”

Mav shrugged. “I never told him. I considered it at first, but after I saw how much he hated me for what I did…. He had already lost her. He didn’t need to lose the memory of her too. There was no point in that.”

Hondo didn’t stop him this time when Mav flagged down the bartender, but he was pleasantly surprised when Mav just asked for water. Maybe getting this off his chest really was helping. Hondo didn’t want to push it too far, cross the line and make Maverick shut down, but he took a chance and asked, “When was the last time you saw Bradley?”

“The day he found out about his papers. He came home furious, accusing me of destroying his future. I tried to come up with some explanation, but without being able to give him my real reason, it just felt hollow and he knew it. He cursed me out and said he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I tried reaching out a few times afterwards, hoping he calmed down, but he always refused to talk to me. Eventually, I realized it was just better to leave him alone. Though I still kept tabs on him from a distance, which is how I knew about today.”

The bartender placed a glass of water on the bartop in front of Maverick, but he just stared into it as if maybe the clear liquid held the answer to his years-old problem. If only it were that easy. 

Running his finger through the condensation on the side of the glass, Mav said, “ You know, I always sort of thought he’d follow in his old man’s footsteps and become a backseater, but no. He’s gonna be a pilot.”

“Like you.”

“Like me.”

“Then maybe, somewhere deep inside, Bradley hasn’t written you off completely. Maybe he still looks up to the man who helped raise him despite what happened. And maybe, there is hope for the future,” Hondo said softly.

“Maybe. But not today.” Maverick finally picked up the glass and took a long sip. As he placed it back down, he stood up. “I think you should probably drive me home. We have a busy day tomorrow. And…. thank you for tonight. You’re a really great friend, Hondo.”

Hondo smiled and climbed off his stool. “Anytime, Captain.”

Hondo thought back to that night in the bar as he stood at attention while Maverick walked into the hangar to address the recruits. In the years since, Mav had shown him numerous photos of Bradley – or Rooster – so Hondo had been able to pick out the younger pilot instantly amongst the other aviators. Mav had already warned him the day before that Rooster would be here and that there was no telling how he would react to seeing Mav there. 

It hadn’t been easy to watch. As Rooster realized who their new instructor was, the happy, excited smile that had been on his face just seconds before was instantly replaced with a tight-jawed glower. He shifted in his seat and, for a moment, Hondo wondered if the man was about to bolt from the room. But he remained where he was, and when Maverick managed to catch his eye for just a moment, he glanced away. Maverick’s chest seemed to deflate slightly at that, but he began his speech as if nothing had happened.

As Maverick spoke, Hondo examined Rooster’s face closely. There was anger, hurt, and betrayal – as was to be expected – as Rooster’s eyes darted around the room, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of him. However, there was also a tiny glimmer of something else. Something soft and tender. Something Hondo had seen many times on his own son’s face when he looked at him. Something that made Hondo smile. 

Maybe he had been right and was hope for Maverick and Rooster’s relationship after all.

“And we’re off.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @marvelousmermaid, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Maybe

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bernie "Hondo" Coleman, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, platonic friends

Summary: Hondo knows something is wrong one night when Maverick isn't acting like himself. After a little persuasion, he gets Mav to reveal some painful secrets that affect his past and present. But maybe there is still hope for the future.

Word Count: 1724

TW: Angst, Hope, Drinking to Numb Pain, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Betrayal, Hondo being a supportive friend

Note: Thank you so much to @green-socks for not only the discussion that this idea developed from, and for beta reading, but also for being such an amazing and supportive friend 💖

Hondo deserves so much more love than he gets so here is my part! I hope you like it!

This was not what Hondo had expected when Maverick asked him for drinks after work. Usually when they went out, Maverick would have a few too many beers, flirt with anyone within a twenty-foot radius, and – if he struck out – would have Hondo drive him home. But the Warrant Officer didn’t mind. Now that his son had left for college, he was never in a hurry to return to his empty apartment.

However, tonight was different. Mav had been downing beers as usual, only this time he was becoming more and more withdrawn with every one he drank. Hondo couldn’t understand it. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened at work that would put him in this kind of mood, and as far as he knew, Maverick wasn’t seeing anyone that might be causing relationship drama. 

But it wasn’t until Maverick finished his fourth beer and started to order a whiskey that Hondo spoke up. “Hey man, maybe you should have a water next? Just slow down a bit. There’s no rush, we can be here all night.”

Mav ignored him and took the drink that the bartender offered him. In a single shot, he downed it before slamming the now-empty glass onto the bartop. “Another.”

But as the bartender turned to get one, Hondo waved him off. Standing up, he grabbed Mav’s arm and tried to ease him off his stool. “No, we’re done here.”

However, Mav just yanked his arm away and growled, “No one’s keeping you here. Go if you want. You’re not my babysitter.”

“Well, it seems like somebody should be if you’re gonna be acting like an idiot…. More of an idiot than usual.” 

Maverick grumbled something under his breath and hunched down deeper into his jacket. Hondo sighed. There was more going on tonight than just a few too many beers and a bad attitude. 

Settling back onto his own stool and adjusting his glasses, Hondo placed his hand on Mav’s shoulder. “Talk to me, Mav. Something is clearly bothering you. Whatever it is, it won’t leave this bar. Just let me help.”

Maverick stared down at the bartop for a long moment. But when he spoke, his words had lost all their harsh bite. Instead, he seemed almost on the verge of tears. “He got his wings today.”

Hondo waited for him to explain further but the Captain remained silent. Softly prodding him, he asked, “Who did?”

“Bradley, my godson. He got his wings today and I couldn’t be there.”

This was the first time Maverick had ever mentioned a godson, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. Whenever Hondo talked to Mav about his son, the other man seemed to understand exactly what he was dealing with. Like he had experience raising, or at least dealing with a teenage boy before. It also perfectly explained this depressive mood Maverick was in. 

Squeezing his shoulder tighter, Hondo said,  “Aw, man. I’m sorry, Mav. You should have said something sooner. Maybe I could have talked to some people, pushed some deadlines. We could have found a way to get you there.”

For the first time that night, Mav gave him the ghost of a smile. “Thanks, Hondo. But getting leave wasn’t the issue. Hell, I would have gone AWOL and faced ten court martials or even let them take my own wings if it meant being there today. But he didn’t want me there. He hasn’t wanted me there for years.”

Maverick tried to catch the bartender’s eye once more, but Hondo drew his attention back to their conversation with an accusatory, “What did you do?”

Mav was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘what did I do’? Why would you just assume–”

“Because I know you, Mav. You’re brass, outspoken, don’t listen to others, and bend the rules to do whatever you think is right. So, if I had to guess, you did something the kid didn’t agree with?”

“Something like that.” When Hondo continued to stare at him, Mav sighed. “He applied to the Naval Academy his senior year of high school, but I got his papers pulled.”

That was not the answer Hondo had been expecting. “Why the hell would you do that? Especially if you are this upset about missing him getting his wings?”

“It’s a long story, but I promised his mom.” Maverick chuckled mirthlessly. “You know, I’ve never told anyone about this except for Ice.”

Hondo released his hold on Maverick’s shoulder and settled back on the stool. “I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. I just want to help. I hate seeing you like this, man.”

“I know.” Maverick’s smile grew stronger as he looked at the Warrant Officer. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe it would be nice to get it off my chest.”

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Bradley’s dad was my RIO and my best friend but I got him killed during a training exercise while we were at Top Gun. After that, I tried my best to help Carole out and tried to be half the dad Goose was.” Maverick’s voice shook slightly and he rubbed his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. “I thought losing Goose was the hardest thing I would ever have to go through, but then Carole got sick. In less than a year she went from the most vibrant, energetic soul to this shell of a person. It was heartbreaking, as was watching Bradley try everything he could to help her through it.”

“She never asked me for a single thing as long as I knew her. But laying there, in her last moments, she asked me to keep Bradley from flying. He had never actually told us, but we both knew he wanted to join the Navy and get his wings. And after what happened to Goose…. She had done so much for me over the years, I had to at least try to honor her wishes. Plus, I just don’t think he was ready. So, when Bradley applied to the Academy, I pulled his papers.”

“I’m so sorry, Mav.” Hondo shook his head, unable to imagine how hard that must have been knowing how much Bradley wanted what Maverick was being asked to take away. Talk about a rock and a hard place. “What did he say when you told him it was what his mother wanted?”

Mav shrugged. “I never told him. I considered it at first, but after I saw how much he hated me for what I did…. He had already lost her. He didn’t need to lose the memory of her too. There was no point in that.”

Hondo didn’t stop him this time when Mav flagged down the bartender, but he was pleasantly surprised when Mav just asked for water. Maybe getting this off his chest really was helping. Hondo didn’t want to push it too far, cross the line and make Maverick shut down, but he took a chance and asked, “When was the last time you saw Bradley?”

“The day he found out about his papers. He came home furious, accusing me of destroying his future. I tried to come up with some explanation, but without being able to give him my real reason, it just felt hollow and he knew it. He cursed me out and said he didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I tried reaching out a few times afterwards, hoping he calmed down, but he always refused to talk to me. Eventually, I realized it was just better to leave him alone. Though I still kept tabs on him from a distance, which is how I knew about today.”

The bartender placed a glass of water on the bartop in front of Maverick, but he just stared into it as if maybe the clear liquid held the answer to his years-old problem. If only it were that easy. 

Running his finger through the condensation on the side of the glass, Mav said, “ You know, I always sort of thought he’d follow in his old man’s footsteps and become a backseater, but no. He’s gonna be a pilot.”

“Like you.”

“Like me.”

“Then maybe, somewhere deep inside, Bradley hasn’t written you off completely. Maybe he still looks up to the man who helped raise him despite what happened. And maybe, there is hope for the future,” Hondo said softly.

“Maybe. But not today.” Maverick finally picked up the glass and took a long sip. As he placed it back down, he stood up. “I think you should probably drive me home. We have a busy day tomorrow. And…. thank you for tonight. You’re a really great friend, Hondo.”

Hondo smiled and climbed off his stool. “Anytime, Captain.”

Hondo thought back to that night in the bar as he stood at attention while Maverick walked into the hangar to address the recruits. In the years since, Mav had shown him numerous photos of Bradley – or Rooster – so Hondo had been able to pick out the younger pilot instantly amongst the other aviators. Mav had already warned him the day before that Rooster would be here and that there was no telling how he would react to seeing Mav there. 

It hadn’t been easy to watch. As Rooster realized who their new instructor was, the happy, excited smile that had been on his face just seconds before was instantly replaced with a tight-jawed glower. He shifted in his seat and, for a moment, Hondo wondered if the man was about to bolt from the room. But he remained where he was, and when Maverick managed to catch his eye for just a moment, he glanced away. Maverick’s chest seemed to deflate slightly at that, but he began his speech as if nothing had happened.

As Maverick spoke, Hondo examined Rooster’s face closely. There was anger, hurt, and betrayal – as was to be expected – as Rooster’s eyes darted around the room, trying to focus on anything but the man in front of him. However, there was also a tiny glimmer of something else. Something soft and tender. Something Hondo had seen many times on his own son’s face when he looked at him. Something that made Hondo smile. 

Maybe he had been right and was hope for Maverick and Rooster’s relationship after all.

“And we’re off.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog,  @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover,@startrekfangirl2233

[softly-sage]

i’ve seen some mixed reviews about episode 4 so far and i just have to say that i loved it so freaking much. it was probably one of my favorite tarlos episodes so far, and i just-- it was just so good?

warning 4x04 spoilers. 

okay granted, i don’t really care about owen and his storyline this season. not to mention his failure of being a father time and time again, but that isn’t what i would like to focus on. 

tarlos--and the entire storyline of carlos’ secret, and iris, and then carlos being kidnapped turned out so much better than what i had expected. when i found out carlos’ secret was that he was married, i was in disbelief and i was just plain upset. but the payout of the intimacy and love that carlos and tk have for each other was just so beautiful. 

the way that tk just knew that something was wrong with carlos. that carlos wouldn’t just go AWOL and not respond to him, even if they were fighting. the way he bothered nancy into checking in at the hospital because he just had to make sure that carlos was okay. 

tk used all of the people that he could think of in his life to help him find carlos. he called his dad, called grace, went over to reyes’ house. the way tk was even more of a detective than an actual detective and texas ranger, and was ultimately the one who led them to the kidnapper/serial killer. 

GOD how he was the one to revive carlos?? i’m just---

and then let’s talk about carlos, and how even though he was kidnapped and facing almost certain death, his first thoughts were of tk. how he waited and made sure tk was away from the house before he started screaming for help so that he wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire. how he said that some of the love he feels must come from gwyn because he just feels so much love for tk.

and let’s we cannot forget to mention:

“thank you for saving my life.”

“you saved your own life. i was just hanging onto it for a bit.”

“it’s yours.”

THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE TONIGHT.

and all of the parallels? with tk reviving carlos paralleling to 1x01 when owen revive tk. and the “are you going to ride with him?” i’m just--

i really freaking loved this episode and the love that carlos and tk have for one another. it really shined through this episode and just reinforces, even when they are fighting/disagreeing, their love will always triumph. 

[ejzah]

NCIS LA Season 14 Countdown, Day 3

A/N: For “A Fait Accompli”, because I will never be over it.

***

Don’t Sell Yourself Short

“Deeks, seriously though, are you ok?” Kensi checked as they wandered out of the mission, Hetty’s terse instructions to celebrate on Saturday ringing in their ears.

“Well, I started out today, thinking I was excelling but trying to hide an injury so I didn’t get kicked out, then very shortly thereafter was summarily dismissed from FLETC, and now had our AWOL boss scare the crap out of me while virtually presenting my badge,” Deeks paused, pursing his lips. “It’s been a day.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Kensi apologized. “I swear I didn’t know what Hetty had planned until I went to pick you up.”

Deeks chuckled, the sound humorless. It was such a Hetty thing to do, and he honestly didn’t know how to feel about it. Though he did mean what he said about her being savage.

“You know, the whole time I was packing, on the plane, I kept trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. Did somebody figure out I was hurt? Did I fail that last exam I thought I aced?” He scrubbed his hands through his hair, looking beyond Kensi as he tried to process it all. “Then I just couldn’t thinking about how I screwed up again. So many people pulled in favors to get me into FLETC, bypass the age requirements, and I blew it.”

Kensi put her hand on his arm, drawing him to a stop, and she turned to face him with a horrified expression.

“Oh my god, Deeks. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have called or texted.”

“For one, I was busy clearing out my room as fast as possible. For another, I knew you were busy and didn’t need my whining while you tried to focus,” Deeks explained with a shrug. He couldn’t quite look at her fully, still a little embarrassed and ashamed.

“Baby, that is not whining,” Kens told him firmly. When he didn’t respond, she grasped his cheeks between her palms, not as gently as he expected so he was forced to meet her gaze. “You need to tell me when you’re feeling like that.”

“I didn’t really feeling talking about it anyway,” he admitted. As much as Kensi was the person he trusted most, he’d been too consumed with his self-loathing thoughts. And, the certainty that she would be disappointed. “It seemed like I was just fulfilling what everyone already knew.”

Kensi gave his head a firm shake, smoothing her thumb across his cheek a few times to take the sting out of the gesture.

“Hey, do not talk like that. You are not a screwup.” He started to object and she pressed her index finger to his lips. “Yes, you faltered a little bit in the beginning, but that’s just because you were nervous from all the pressure. You figured it out in the end though, and proved what I already knew about you.” She paused a beat. “That you are a strong, intelligent, courageous man who can overcome anything the world throws at him.”

Smiling finally as she said the last part, she slid her up the sides of his face to loop around his neck. Deeks blinked a couple times, almost in tears for the second time in about minutes. It felt like emotional whiplash.

“Wow, Kensi…” he looked up for a second to stave off tears, but they escaped anyway. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“It’s the truth,” Kensi insisted, running her fingers through his hair. It was perfectly soothing after everything that happened today. “You are so, so strong. And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he murmured. He kissed her, only holding back because they were in the middle of the parking lot. “I guess we better go home.”

“We don’t have to.”

“Well, you heard what Hetty said.”

Kensi shrugged her shoulders, a mischievous smile crossing her lips.

“Since when have we ever followed directions? And who cares what Hetty says? Let’s celebrate tonight,” she suggested. “I think we both earned it.”

***

A/N: I can’t believe we’re almost to the season premiere!

[ratsandfashion]

My great uncle's funeral was today and I just got back. BTW, I am totally fine, I liked him but I was not close enough to be broken up about his death, especially since he was 92 and went in his sleep. My concern was my dad, who was very close to him. He was one of the speakers and the pallbearers, and he choked up a little bit during the former, but he did really good. I'm not surprised, my dad is one of those Super Stoic Manly Man types, but that's all the more reason I should be there for him, because he's not going to ASK for support. He and my aunt CRACKED UP when the pastor, who never knew him, talked about how he served our country in Korea and he has such respect for veterans and blah blah....Uncle Red fuckin HATED being in the Army and went AWOL all the damn time. Uncle Red was in general, as my dad put it in his eulogy "not a guy I'd buy a used car from". My dad also said to me after that there's a lot he knew about Red that's gonna go to his own grave with him. Red was not a bad guy, mind you, but he was. . .a character. . .and tbh if I found out he killed a guy at some point I don't think I'd be shoced. Tomorrow is my birthday and I plan to stay in and just watch TV and draw! Cookie is still alive as of tonight and I am hoping she will be nice enough to give me tomorrow as a gift too.

[eloquitry]

|| sorry i went awol on everyone last night. i was extremely tired and passed out very early yesterday and have only woken up with enough time to basically go to work. strangely enough, the corint.hian was in my dream. i intend to be around some tonight and do replies and i’m available through ims and dis.cord while i’m at work though dis.cord is preferred as it’s a bit easier to navigate when i’m at work. anyway, if you’d like me to come at you to plot, like this post or shoot me a message! 

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 7 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

I was already four beers in when Lucas had decided to show up.

I chugged a shot, before asking the bartender for two more.

It was fairly busy for a weekday, especially since this bar was a small hole in the wall on the side of a busy roadway.

Most of the pack would come out here since it was only a ten-minute drive to get here but today, it seemed to swell with regular customers.

Lucas stood out amongst the crowd, given his tall stature and the way he carried himself.

He easily squeezed by social bar-goers and sat next to me.

"I called you over thirty minutes ago," I groaned.

"You're paying my tab. Where the hell were you?"

He took a shot, before asking for a beer.

"I went for a run."

"A run?"

"Yeah, I've been looking for Sally. Jane says she wasn't with her and now Jane is getting on my ass about not keeping my eye on her when Jane was the one who decided to go AWOL last night."

I gave him an incredulous glare.

I didn't understand how going for a run would help.

He groaned before rubbing his face, tracing the rim of his glass.

"I caught Sally's scent in the forest. I'm assuming she ran off but I lost it near the river."

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Sally's a smart girl," I shrugged, grabbing another beer before eyeing the crowd.

"What is happening today, it's not even happy hour."

Lucas still seemed worried about his little girl but looked over my shoulder to check out the crowd anyways.

"Ah, Grant's band is playing tonight."

"Grant?" I hummed.

"You mean Brady's brother, Grant?"

Lucas nodded, as I tried to remember Grant's face.

Despite being the pack's leader, it was difficult to keep track and remember everyone.

Brady, if I remember correctly, was one of our many rogue control betas.

I've seen him a few times in passing but I hadn't really known him very well.

He was good friends with my brother Xavier, though.

Them and my cousin, Dwaine were like three peas in a pod but for some reason, Grant's face escaped me.

We watched as people started to congregate near the small makeshift stage.

People on stage were setting up their instruments and sound equipment.

Lucas gulped down another shot, before nudging my arm and pointing to the group.

"Grant's the one in the striped tee and guitar."

It took me a moment to look past the crowd before spotting him.

He was tuning his guitar, as the rest of the members hooked up the sound cables and speakers.

As I kept staring, it finally dawned on me that I did remember him.

He was that young kid that would cling to Brady and his friends like a leech.

Of course as they became teens, Brady had pushed him away and eventually, they seemed to hate each other.

However, when their mom died and dad left, they seemed to grow closer.

They still lived with each other, despite their constant arguing according to Xavier.

We watched as the crowd swarmed toward their stage as they finished setting up and started warming up.

The band had worn darker clothes, so I was shocked to hear them play a slower and more mellow tune.

Grant had done most of the singing, while his bandmates did the backup vocals.

I vaguely remember someone telling me that he was a good singer but I was thoroughly surprised at his skill and so was the rest of the crowd.

After each song, patrons would drop some money in the band's guitar cases.

As they continued to play, I continued to down more drinks, sort-of listening to Lucas ranting about his relationship problems.

As much as I hated listening to his drama, I couldn't help but wonder what the big deal Jane was making.

Sure Lucas hadn't found their daughter but Jane hadn't been watching her to begin with.

Lucas was working, unlike Jane who decided to be a stay at home mother since she had Sally.

If anyone were to be mad, Lucas should be.

"Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, yeah," I groaned, downing the last bit of the beer in the glass.

Lucas glared, tanking another shot.

"You didn't hear me at all, did you?"

I shrugged, ordering another round of beers.

The bartenders usually knew we were heavy drinkers but still stared at us like we were crazy.

It took a lot for us to get drunk and we were only starting to feel the buzz.

"I said your brother was talking to that rogue when I went on my run," he spouted.

"What rogue?"

He gaped before hesitantly mind linking me.

'Simon.'

Immediately it left a bad taste in my mouth and I had to resist the urge to growl out loud.

"What for?"

Lucas frowned.

"I'm not entirely sure, he got defensive when I tried to ask. He was telling me it was none of my business and that I needed to leave. I don't understand why he..."

"He's probably planning some kinda rogue attack. I don't like that he's contacting my brother," I stated.

"We gotta tighten our security, more patrols then."

He raised his shot glass.

"I'll inform the Betas tomorrow morning before the meeting."

"In the meantime, let's get wasted," I tapped his glass with my own.

"Forget about all this drama."

I looked around the bar and realized that Grant's band had finished performing, and now the regular bar music was blasting.

The guy managing the speaker had turned up the bass, so every beat was felt through the wooden floor and tables.

We kept drinking as we stared at the growing crowd, who instead of patiently and quietly listening to Grant's band, decided to go all out and dance like it was a nightclub.

Lucas and I watched the crowd before I spotted a group of chicks near the back of the club.

"You in?" I asked Lucas, pointing toward the group of girls.

He quickly shook his head.

"You know I wouldn't do that to Jane."

"The blonde's cute," I suggested.

"Not your speed? What about the brunette?"

He rolled his eyes and continued to drink.

"We're not getting any younger," I argued.

"You do what you want Vince, I'll finish this and head out."

He tanked the last of his beer before patting me on my shoulder.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"No promises."

[taegularities]

Omg omg omg rid😭😭😭😭😭 it’s been such a long week

Literally the day Seven came out, I walked into work and lost my job😢 (it was a part time retail job that I genuinely loathed, so don’t feel bad) but now I have a easier job with better hours (no weekends) and I’m getting paid more and it hasn’t even been a week yet, so life is not too bad, but I was definitely bummed out and wasn’t able to read CMI9 but I’m so excited to lay down tonight and dissect my thoughts again.

I missed them🫂

But that was just my quick little update on why I’ve been AWOL, I hope everything’s good

-⭐️

WAH STAR, i was just thinking of you today and i missed you !!! my eyes went wide when i read the bit about you losing your job lol but i'm actually so glad that you did bc your current situation sounds so much better!! i'm happy you're doing well 🥺 and no worries.. please enjoy cmi9 whenever you can and are ready to. i'm so excited for you to read it and dissect your thoughts!! and everything's good here, love, tysm 💕

[smol-and-grumpy]

Legally Yours - Ch. 26

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: We’re still at the angst, because someone’s obviously still an idiot. We also might detect some jealousy. 

WC: 4214

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​ <3

This series is complete on Patreon

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Five days later, she’s sitting in her kitchen, job application website open on her laptop while Bobby’s at work and Olivia’s at school.

The first night was hard on the girl. Olivia crawled into bed with her, spinning up tales that she missed her toys they left at Dean’s but she is sure that a part of the little girl’s heart is aching for Dean because hers is too. 

Y/N hasn’t heard from him and it took everything in her not to shoot him a message and ask him how he’s doing. She’s fairly certain that if she would choose to go down that road, she’ll get weak and that’s against the new rule that she’s set up for herself in order to protect herself and her family.

Donna sent her a text when she arrived back at her old apartment, asking how her honeymoon was going and when Y/N told her that she’s back, Donna offered to come over. They sat around the tiny kitchen table with boxed wine between them, drinking and talking. Yeah, boxed wine. Over are the days of cheap bottles. Well, she reckons she could afford it with the money from the marriage contract but she’d rather not as she has a future to think about. 

She didn’t sulk, didn’t allow herself to. She needed to be strong for Olivia and keep it all together. Her friend parted with a promise to help her find a man who she deserved. She only smiled. Couldn’t find it in her heart to say that she’s not looking for a man, that she thinks that Dean’s ruined her for all other men, that she’s most likely destined to be alone forever. At least she has Liv, and honestly, that’s all that counts. God, she’s so glad to have that little girl. She would have been broken beyond repair if it wasn't for Liv. 

While she touches up her CV at the kitchen table where she poured her heart out to Donna the evening before, her phone starts to buzz next to her. Her heart jumps. She hates the buzz of her phone because she’ll always think that it could be Dean and when it’s not him, she will always feel so deflated. Somehow, she’s okay with the situation but a little part of her still hopes that he would change his mind and come back to her. 

This time it’s no different when she looks at her phone. If anything, it’s even worse. Sam’s calling. 

She debates on not picking up but decides that she has to because he’s probably calling about the annulment. It’s really the only thing left that keeps her tied to Dean on a contractual level, and after she signs that, it’s like the marriage never existed. 

“Sam?”

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N,” The man can be heard on the other end. A little breath leaves him, and she can imagine that he’s smiling. Ever the friendly Sam. She can’t lie, she misses him too. 

“You’re calling about the annulment?” She gets straight to the point. There’s really no point in stretching this out unnecessarily. 

“Um, actually no. Dean’s not really talkative and he’s not going to sign it.” 

“What do you mean he’s not going to sign it?” She doesn’t understand, has a hard time wrapping her head around it. Why did Dean still want to be married to her when she walked away from him? There’s no point in pretending anymore and she has made up her mind. The only way she’s going is forward and not back. She wants to move on. 

“Don’t worry about it. He’s only been back two days, I need time to talk him through it. We should have the annulment finalized by Monday, I promise.” 

“I trust you,” She says into the receiver, because she does. If someone can talk sense into Dean, it will probably be Sam. “How is he?” 

“Do you want to hear the truth or do you want me to lie to make you feel better?” 

“Lie.” 

“He’s doing great.” 

“That’s good.” 

Sam snorts, “Well, I knew you'd feel better if you knew that he’s doing okay without you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want him to feel bad but somehow I also want him to, you understand?”

A burst of laughter rumbles on the other end, “I know,” Sam replies, “He’s a gigantic dick, Y/N. I think he knows that and he’s beating himself up for it. He’s been back at work for two days and according to Rowena, it’s hell. He doesn’t talk to anyone and if he opens his mouth, it’s to shout at people.” 

“Wow, he’s coping well.” 

The man laughs again, “Dean’s never been good at taking rejections. He’ll get over it, eventually. Someday. Maybe. Well,” Sam pauses and exhales loudly, “Tell you the truth, I don’t think he’ll get over it. I’ve never seen him like this and it scares me, hence me calling you.” 

Y/N feels sorry for him. And there she thought that she was miserable without him. Somehow it gives her a little satisfaction to know that he’s doing just as bad, if not worse. Can anyone blame her to feel like this?

“I’m not going to go back to him just so that he’ll stop being an ass to other people.” 

“That’s not what I was going to ask you about.”

“Ah, why beat around the bush, Sam. What is it?”

Sam sighs, “Okay, as you might know, Dean hasn’t told anyone that you two broke up.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” She hopes Sam can feel through the phone how hard she’s rolling her eyes right now.

“Shush,” Sam scolds  and continues before she can say sorry for interrupting him, “He has a charity gala to attend tonight, and it would be great if you would accompany him.”

The bark of laughter that leaves her mouth is hard to hold back, “You what?” 

Sam’s not laughing, “I mean it, Y/N. He’s not doing great and he has to attend. Technically you are still his wife and you have a contract, so..”

“Oh, please, don’t come at me with a contract, Sam. Dean told me that I’m allowed to walk away. He said that he doesn’t need me to get the shares. He wasn’t the one stopping me when I walked out on him, so tell me, why should I do this? Why should I pretend when I don’t have to anymore?”

“Because you still care about him,” 

Sam’s answer is a hit to her heart. She does. She cares so fucking much but also, that means that she’s not going to give in because it’s time to put herself first. She can’t hold herself together for Olivia’s sake when there’s nobody backing her up. She won’t go through this again. 

Of course Sam’s on Dean’s side. He’s friendly to her but if Sam would have to pick sides, it would always be Dean’s. 

“I’m sorry,” She says, her voice shaking a little. No, she’s not going to cry. Not again. Not anymore.

“Okay,” Sam relents too easily, “Can’t blame me for trying.” 

“No, I can’t. Dean’s lucky to have you as a friend.” She means it. 

“I’ll come to see you as soon as Dean signs the papers, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself and Olivia, okay? And tell me if you need anything.”

“I will, Sam. Thanks.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

She hangs up before she can say goodbye. The phone drops onto the table and she’s back to burying her face into her arms as she sobs. 

*

 For the next five weeks, Y/N  tries to avoid looking at tabloids pages, instead, concentrating on Olivia and helping to ease the little girl back into her old environment. 

Of course there have been texts from Donna telling her that there’s no news from Dean, at least not with another woman. She knows that she shouldn’t care about it, because if he wants to date again, it’s his right, but somehow, she can’t help but feel the pinpricks in her heart. It’s not something bad but something good because it keeps her hopes alive for a while. After she was reluctant to answer Donna's text about Dean in the first two weeks, her friend has decided that she doesn’t want to update Y/N anymore. Which is also fine with her. The less she’s reminded of Dean, the quicker it will be to get over him.

She snorts out a laugh at that thought. Yeah, right. 

Bobby has been weird the last two weeks too. He went out to meetings, saying it has something to do with his union but she knows that he doesn’t even have a union so she really doesn’t have any explanation for the two to three times the man went AWOL when he should be home but again, it’s nothing that should worry her. Bobby is still young enough to have his own life. She guesses that it has to do with a new lady friend maybe. Maybe Bobby’s being cautious too, maybe he doesn’t want her and Olivia to know when things aren’t steady with the two. She couldn’t blame him for thinking like that.

Tonight is the first time in over a month that she feels comfortable enough to leave the security of her own home. Perhaps Donna has something to do with it, begging her to finally go out and face the world, and Y/N can’t lie that Donna’s not right. It’s time to face it like a grown-up. She can’t be buried in her four walls forever. She eventually has to go out and socialize. She’s been going out a lot for interviews but that’s about it. No company has called her back yet, though. Thankfully, she still has more than enough money to get by. 

As soon as she arrives at The Roadhouse and Donna sees her, the woman is quick to be by her side, “I have a surprise for you!” 

“Oh no,” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I hate surprises.” 

“It’s not bad, I just thought, you know,” 

“Donna,” She warns her friend. Somehow, she doesn’t like where this discussion is going. 

“There’s this guy, I invited him. He’s nice, so be nice, okay? He’s not going to be the love of your life, I know that too but you should put yourself out there, just a drink, okay? It will broaden up your horizon, maybe get your ex-husband out of your mind for a little bit.” 

Jesus, Donna’s talking a mile a minute. She barely understands what the woman is raving on about.

“What?”

“There,” Donna pulls her close, points a finger to the booth where Garth is sitting with someone whose back is turned to her. 

“Oh, Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna yes!” The blonde exclaims cheerily before placing her hands on Y/N shoulders and pushing her towards the booth. “His name is Cubbie.”

“Cub-what?” 

“It’s a nickname, Y/N.”

“If that’s the nickname I don’t wanna know about his real name.”

“Cuthbert. Cuthbert Sinclair, if you wanna know. He’s a magician.”

“That’s great. Super.” Y/N groans and turns around towards the exit but Donna’s hand is firm around her shoulders, guiding her back to where Garth is already standing up to make room for her. 

“Hey, Cubbie! This is Y/N, the woman I talked to you about.” Donna’s all smiles and somehow, Y/N’s hand itches to hurt her friend.

“I’m Y/N,” She says then. The only way is forward now. 

Cubbie, still what a fucking weird name, stands up and his hands immediately go to her arms and pulls her closer to press a wet kiss on her cheek. 

Ew. Oh no, this won’t end well. 

Reluctantly she sits down, wonders how long she has to sit here until she can get up and leave without being too rude. 

She lets him buy her a drink and he orders fries to share between them while they talk. It’s not exactly bad but they just share small talk about the weather and where they’re from.

“So, you’re a magician?” She tries to sound like she’s interested, wanting to get into the deeper conversational territory.

“Yeah,” Cubbie reaches over and strokes her hair behind her ear and when he sits back up, he shows her the coin that he apparently pulled out of her, a bright smile dotes his face. She does her best to resist the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Good god,” She exclaims and the man laughs. 

He goes on to tell her about magic, which she again, has no interest in listening to. Jesus, the man can talk. While she debates on maybe hurting herself with a toothpick to have a fucking reason to get out, Cubbie excuses himself to go to the bathroom but before he goes, he leans down next to her, “How about we’re doing a little disappearing act, huh?”

“Oh god,” She huffs out but Cubbie doesn’t get her blatant disinterest. He just smiles at her.

“Think about it, I’ll be right back.”

Good riddance, is what she wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, she smiles a faux smile.

While he’s gone, she takes out her phone, shooting Bobby a text that she’ll probably won’t be that long when he feels someone is taking a seat in the booth opposite of her. 

“Back alread—”

The word won’t come out because it’s not Cubbie who’s sitting across from her but Dean. 

He has a cap on his head, is dressed casually in a black t-shirt underneath a blue plaid shirt. There are faint black circles under his eyes. He has shaved off his beard but from the length of the stubble, she can tell that he’s in the process of growing it out again. 

“C’mon, Y/N, seriously? That guy?” He asks, sounding offended, and honestly, it’s not what she really wants the first thing out his mouth to be after not being on speaking terms for over a month.

“It’s none of your business, Dean.” She snaps at him. 

“You’re right. It isn’t.” He agrees, “What is he? An accountant?”

“He has a name and he’s a magician.”

Dean barks out a laugh and even though it’s mean, she can’t help but smirk with him. 

“His name is Cubbie.” She adds, which earns another hearty laugh from Dean.

“Cubbie the magician?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know if he has a stage name,” Y/N shrugs, “He asked me if I wanna do a disappearing act with him.”

“Oh, he will disappear, alright,” Dean growls angrily. 

She can’t read him. Why is he here, why is he crashing her blind date? So she asks, “Dean, what is this? Why are you here?” 

“I’m here every week to see if you’ll be here.”

“You know that there are phones, right?” 

“Would you have answered the phone if I called?” He challenges her and she holds his gaze. He’s right, she probably wouldn’t, even if she was hoping that he’d call but she doesn’t think that she would have picked it up because she doesn’t know if her heart can take what he’s going to tell her over the phone. “Yeah, I thought so. How’s Olivia?”

“She’s good. She enjoys being back at school. She’s going on a field trip in two weeks and I think I’m going to go along to chaperone.” 

Honestly, Y/N has no idea why she’s telling him that. Why she easily falls into a conversion with him about little things. But it feels easy, it feels like meeting an old friend. Someone where she can just pick up where they left off, even if they haven’t seen each other for a long time. Dean was her friend, she can’t deny that, and she guesses the reason why she feels at ease is that her heart can’t forget it either.

“I can do that, too,” Dean suggests without even thinking twice.

“Dean, she’s none of your concern, we’re fine without you.” Her words might be too harsh but he needs a reminder that not everything revolves around him. 

“Great.” He mumbles as Cubbie comes back from the bathroom. The poor guy stands there and is a little irritated by Dean’s presence. 

“You ready to leave?” Cubbie asks, straight up ignoring Dean’s presence and she has to give him that. It takes balls. Dean’s not someone who can be ignored. He’s tall and broad and yeah, awfully good looking. 

She stands up, nodding her head. Even if she has no intention of going anywhere with Cubbie, she also knows that she can’t stay here with Dean.

When she walks away, Dean holds her back by her wrist. The touch of him is almost too much to bear and she stills, has to close her eyes as she tries to breathe evenly. 

“You’re leaving with him? Seriously?” 

Opening her eyes to look at the source of the voice, she can clearly see the irritation on Dean’s face. 

Pulling her hand from his hold, she brings it close to her chest, fearing that she’d reach out if she let her heart decide over her mind, “It’s none of your business, Dean. You had your chance but you blew it. I’m trying to move on.” 

Dean stands up too and he’s close. The warmth radiates from him. Her body betrays her a little, sways a little closer to him. Cubbie is a couple of steps ahead but he stalls and looks back, waiting for her to follow him out. She wants to, she really does, it’s just so hard to move when the magnetic pull of Dean wraps itself around her. 

“Now, say it again a little more convincingly. Make me believe it.” Dean demands with a gruff voice while he crosses his arms over his chest, his palms nearly disappearing into his armpits, as if he too, has to resist reaching out to touch her again when it’s not what she wants.

How is it possible that he still can read her like a book? It’s not fucking fair. 

She narrows her eyes, staring him down. “You’re an ass, Dean.” She hisses and pushes out of the door, past Cubbie. When she’s out, she flags down a cab and gets in. Only when the driver rounds the street of the first block does she realize that she left Cubbie at the bar. Great. Now the act with her leaving the bar with some date is even less convincing to Dean. 

God, she’s a failure. 

 *

 “You know he still cares deeply about you, right?” Donna flops down on Y/N’s worn out couch with a bottle of beer in hand and Y/N walks over to join her friend with her glass of red wine. 

The incident at the bar in which Dean had held a metaphorical pissing competition against an oblivious Cubbie was four days ago. Almost a distant memory. She hasn’t heard from the magician, but also it’s not really surprising since they didn’t even exchange their numbers and Donna has not mentioned him again. At least there’s that. 

She frowns for a moment, “Cubbie? He barely knows me.”

Her friend rolls her eyes to the back and takes a pull at the bottle, “Dean, dummy!”

“Yeah, well, he has a hell of a way of showing it.” She grumbles, burying her face into her goblet and tips it back to take a big gulp. 

Donna admitted after the incident that she watched them with amusement. Poor Cubbie was standing there lost and sulked away on his own. Apparently, Dean grinned brightly, and god, just the image of him being so joyful and cocky about her misery makes her want to smack him across the face. But for that, she would have to see him again, which she won’t. Nope. Not going there. She can’t move on when he keeps popping up.

“You don’t see it, do you?” Donna tilts her head that’s resting on the back of the old faded sofa, cocking her eyebrow as she asks.

“See what?” Y/N eyebrows match her friend’s. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Donna huffs out, followed by a giggle. Okay, the woman should definitely not drink any more beer, also since tomorrow is Monday and she has to work. Y/N for her part, is still struggling with finding a job that would keep her head above water. She’s debating on taking two lesser paid jobs but then again, there would be no time left to spend with Liv and since she’s making Liv her priority, she keeps on searching. The blonde lays her hand on Y/N’s thigh, squeezes it, “He’s so fucking in love.”

With knitted eyebrows, she glares at her friend. Dean? In love? Has that been obvious? She shakes her head, “That’s not what he told me,” 

Her friend sits up straight and turns to her before taking a big swig of her beer and slams it onto the coffee table. Y/N gets irritated, shushes her friend with a nudge of her elbow. Liv is sleeping next door, and Donna usually knows that she has to be fucking quiet. 

“Oops,” Donna says with a shrug, and they both freeze to listen if Liv has woken up because of the noise. When they don’t hear a sound, they both breathe out in relief. Yeah, there’s no chance Donna will get another beer from her tonight. The blonde grins at her. A grin that spells mischief, “Have you ever thought that Dean Winchester, a guy who’s never been in love might not know how it feels to be in love? Have you ever thought that he might be so fucking gone on you and tries to identify his feelings but he can’t because he doesn’t fucking knows what it is?” 

God, Donna talks a mile a minute and Y/N’s brain is having trouble catching on and processing. 

Her friend pauses to wriggle her eyebrows at her but otherwise, Donna doesn’t say anything because she waits until it settles. 

Memories of the last day on the beach flashed in her mind. She recalls him asking her how she knows when you love someone and her answer was you just know. 

Could it be that he was struggling then already? He probably was but she was too deep in her own mind that she didn’t really notice.

“No,” She answers.

“No, what?” Donna asks.

“No, I have never thought that he doesn’t know how it feels to be in love. But I mean, he’s loved his mother, right? He loves Sam to a certain extent. He’s a grown ass man. He should know how he fucking feels.”

“My god, your skull is thicker than I thought.” Donna rolls her eyes dramatically. “Loving a parent is not the same as loving a partner, duh! And with Sam. There’s the bro thing, I guess? They love each other but it’s just all caveman-esque grunting and a lot of back-slapping involved. It’s how I love you,”

“You love me while you grunt and slap my back?” 

“Shut up!” Donna laughs, “Anyway, where was I...oh! Yes. Listen, Y/N, maybe you’ve been too harsh on him. I mean, yeah, of course, you have Liv to care about but don’t tell me that Liv was heartbroken when you brought her back to this place.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. When she snaps out of it, she tips her wine glass back and empties it in one go.

Her friend watches her, pauses to let the things she said sink in. God, she doesn’t know why Donna’s only talking about Dean now. It’s been what? Almost two months. Where was Donna when she needed that kinda talk at the beginning when she left Dean? Donna was always here, her mind says, you just didn’t want to burden anyone and you thought that you could manage everything on your own. 

“Fact is, Y/N. I’ve never seen him like this. He barely goes out, even if he’s invited to events. The gossip sites avoid him because he became a grump while picking up fights with photographers, and don’t even get me started on the last TV appearance where he only gave short, snappish answers, making the stupidly hot interviewer very uncomfortable. A couple of months ago, he would have charmed the woman and they probably would have fucked when the producer yelled cut.”

“How do you know they didn’t?” She asks, and she doesn’t even know why she asks because the thought of him hooking up and going back to being his old self does make her feel a little uncomfortable and admittedly, jealous.

“Honestly? Maybe because the interviewer told a tabloid that she refuses to interview Dean again because he’s a dick.” 

“Well, he is a dick, she’s right.” She says drily, and she’s standing behind her opinion, it’s just now that Donna has said all those things that it makes her really wonder if she’s been too harsh to Dean. Maybe he just needed more time to figure out what he was feeling. But again, it’s too late now, isn’t it?

Ch. 27

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[agentmika]

MIKA!Cas - a Spotify playlist by Cherryredbomb 

There should’ve been an Agent Mika, but also if there had been an Agent Mika, I think I would’ve lost my mind. A Cas-inspired ALL MIKA playlist that loosely follows his character arc in the series. (x)

Shout-out to Tumblr user @autisticandroids ​ whose post about Good Wife - MIKA x the Cas watching Dean rake leaves scene sent me down this path. Their takes on Cas also feature into another song choice on this list

:3 

Disclaimer: While I’ve watched spn since 2014 and started watching live mid-s9, I only seen the show completely through once and went off of memory and my particularly enriched Tumblr enclosure to consider connections to Cas’s character arc. 

It’s all MIKA (some w/ features tho), but song names will be bolded, my thoughts and season or scene connections next to them, and on occasion, screencaps or lyrics added for emphasis. Parts with a * next to them are my personal favorites. 

Rain -> early seasons Cas. falling Cas. give this poor angel a break. 

Talk About You -> Cas being ANNOYING AS HELL to all other angels in the garrison because he has a crush on Dean. 

One Foot Boy* -> "I serve God, I don't serve Man, and I certainly don't serve you" Vibes + s8 lobotomies era + doubt still, always doubt still

Promiseland* (edit and addition brought to you by the genius of @hocuspocushogeschool) -> this song is SOOOOO Cas. It is the strong righteous soldier Cas 😤 again becoming disillusioned with heaven, god, and his purpose. It makes me think of s4-s6 Cas, but I think whatever part of Cas is represented in this song is something core to his character that lasts till the end. So get this:

Last Party* -> Endverse!Cas ESPECIALLY but also a little bit Cas in all apocalypse scenarios. "I'll go with you" on Dean's suicide mission vibes. “I’ll be there with you at the end”(paraphrased) Cas with Mark of Cain Dean vibes. "You weren't invited and don't want to stay, but keep partying anyway" -> CAS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE. CRACK IN HIS CHASSIS. WRENCH IN THE WORKS. EVERY TIME.

No Place in Heaven -> Conversations with Anna and Dean about his doubt. The fight with Uriel in 4x16. 6x20 bench monologuing. That scene where he looks up like >:[ I believed in you! Generally early seasons Cas before Chuck is revealed in all his shittiness.

I See You -> Still Beautiful Still Dean Winchester. Think of s6 invisiCas. Think of Cas rescuing Dean from Hell, rebuilding him. Then getting to know him, and beginning to doubt, beginning to fall.

Rio** -> Upbeat but reminds me of how Cas is ALWAYS going through it damn.  Anyway this song has everything for your Cas projection needs. I thought it would just be funny at first b/c I was thinking of the fact that Hunter Corp Sam & Dean canonically fucked off to Brazil but !!!!! Consider s6 Cas and how they tried to make him a villain. Also, the Casifer arc. 

Good Wife***-> the song that started it all. upbeat but my GOD, the YEARNING. Basically s6, 6x20, and just CAS. This song honestly speaks for itself and THEY NEVER DID GET TO KNOW THE GOOD LIFE DID THEY ;-; Also ALSO these lyrics??? but especially yellow highlight:

ONCE MORE CAS’S LOVE = UNPLANNED WRENCH IN THE WORKS. GAY LOVE PIERCES THE VEIL AND SAVES THE DAY (and gives me brain worms). FUCK U CHUCK.

Meme credit @autisticandroids. Gifset w/ lyrics that made me see shrimp colors earlier tonight can be found here (x) courtesy of @bikingdean ​

Staring at the Sun -> ohoHOHOHo. Cas pov loving Dean. Sacrificial. Unconditional. Irreversible. If you want a particular spn timeline to think, consider AWOL Demon Dean arc, Dean Michael Possession arc, or general early spn when Cas was often away from the Winchesters but found himself thinking of Dean A LOT but maybe didn't realize it was Love Yet. Dean is the sun.

Touches You *-> credit to @autisticandroids for their post about Cas being like hmm, I want Sam's Codependency with Dean but For Me

I mean:

Heroes -> s7 white scrubs cas. Having taken on Sam's Lucifer Burden. And then purgaytory.

Origin of Love -> Godstiel. S7 deancas. "We're making it up as we go." General deancas, cas pov. Also I love everyone because I love you vibes. 

Stuck in the Middle -> Heaven or Earth. Angel or Human. I mean, c'mon. Could specifically consider s8 Cas wondering about Heaven beyond Naomi's control, but, ultimately, it is about Cas choosing the Winchesters and specifically Dean (imo). Also, these lyrics = Cas @ Dean:

Ordinary Man** -> CAS LOSING HIS GRACE ARC PLUS VICTORIAN CONSUMPTION PINING AFTER DEMON DEAN WHO’S AWOL (s10-ish)

Hurts** -> MIKA X HUMAN CAS GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE BUNKER AND LIVING ON THE STREETS. PAIN. JAIL FOR DEAN FOR ONE THOUSAND YEARS FOR THIS SCENE!!! JAIL!! Like Cas is HUMAN. Cas is overwhelmed with feelings and new sensations and one of the first ones he gets to experience in-depth is HEARTBREAK. THANKS DEAN. FUCK U GADREEL.

Stardust -> a little bit of 15x18 confession came to mind, but general deancas longing I feel

Make You Happy* -> "Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters (aka Dean Winchester)" and “shattered at the alter of Winchester” vibes. Verse one but especially, "But if this is love then watch me die on you" and I VIVIDLY pictured the s12 finale cas death and the Dean staring at his pyre scene.

I Went to Hell Last Night -> Cas during Dean Michael Possession Arc + God!Jack vibes. Also consider their very first meeting of course. 

Ready to Call This Love* -> late stage hunter husbands deancas. This is a beautiful duet and if you look at the lyrics on genius, I particularly interpreted it as the italics being Cas and the plain text being Dean. 

Relax, Take it Easy -> Cas taking the deal with the empty and actually reflecting on what he's done maybe. Could also connect with Casifer deal and any of his own poor decisions. Could also be post-confession in the empty.

Any Other World -> s14 finale/s15 beginning. Jack was just killed by Chuck. Chuck is the enemy. Things seem hopeless and irreversibly changed. Shit.

Me, Myself -> This is also break-up-esque, but could also be heard as depressed Cas in the Empty post-confession, thinking Dean doesn’t reciprocate and feeling hopeless. It has Spanish and made me think deancas Spanish dub, but it’s really more like trying to move on vibes. Has a line in Spanish about broken wings 

Tah Dah -> s15 break-up when Cas tries to move on

Step With Me* -> deancas post confession when Dean tells Cas he loves him and they live in domestic bliss (fuck u cw this is MY canon)

BONUS:

By the Time -> In the MIKA!Cas universe, Dean POV on that scene where Cas stole the colt from UNDER DEAN'S PILLOW

It’s My House -> Kinda just enjoyed this one as a fun bop. Pictured it through the Mika!Cas universe lens of being deancas happy ending with a Roadhouse-esque place. Also it might’ve just been on my mind but I was also very much thinking Fuck John Winchester when I listened to this. When the lyrics are like “cause my house is your house,” it’s like NOT you @ him.