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lezliefaithwade · 3 years

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A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

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sadaboutniall · 4 years

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something about you;

introduction | masterlist | tag | wattpad

Six. November, 2008.

A week and a half into November, the calm, cozy, comforts of autumn in Mullingar begin to give way to winter. The weather bites more every day as the temperature falls, the wind picks up, and the nights stretch longer and longer. People are beginning to talk about Christmas—mam has already called to ask if he and Greg are going to come over on the 24th or the 25th, and at least one store in town has put up their lights already, even though Mullingar’s official tree lighting ceremony isn’t until the first weekend of December.

Still, autumn clings on. Niall can smell it in the air when he leaves school on a Tuesday afternoon, backpack slung over one shoulder, chilly air flooding his lungs. His cheeks flush from the cold almost as soon as he steps outside, a bright red to match the color of the few leaves that still linger on the trees. The school yards are golden in that way only autumn brings—cold but still lively, bursting with color and excitement before winter zaps it all away.

Mully’s with Emilia but Niall’s taken to enjoying his walks home alone these days. Sometimes he listens to his iPod, imagining himself singing Viva La Vida on stage, or Hotel California. Other times, he just lets his mind wander—thinks about the songs he’s writing, the places he’d like to travel to, the people he’d like to meet. It gives him time to feel like he’s anywhere but Mullingar—like his life is one that’ll make an impression on the world beyond his tiny hometown, beyond the streets and the skies and the stone walls he knows so well.

Most days, he doesn’t see many people along his route, which is why he’s surprised, that Tuesday, to turn the corner and see a familiar figure a few feet ahead of him. She’s walking with her head down against the wind and her hands deep in her pockets and Niall doesn’t really have control over his inhibitions, it’s almost automatic for him to call out, ‘Isla! Hey!’

She turns around, wind whipping her hair backwards into her face and it’s like a shot from a music video or a rom-com, one of those moments where everything slows down and the only thing in focus is the person the main character is falling in love with. Isla tucks her hair behind her ear as her eyes light up, autumn sunlight glinting against brown irises, and she waves her other hand in greeting.

Niall picks up into a slight jog and Isla waits for him to catch up to her, her smile soft and sweet, her dimples prominent. Once he’s at her side he slows down, and they fall into step with each other as Niall catches his breath.

‘Where are you headed?’ He asks, as soon as he can speak without breathing too heavy.

‘I’m babysitting today,’ Isla looks over at Niall, still smiling. ‘The O’Hagan’s little boy, Aiden.’

‘You babysit for the O’Hagans? They’re right around the corner from me,’ Niall can’t put his finger on why it feels so weird not to know that Isla’s been spending time so close to him.

Isla hums a response, a pretty sound that makes Niall think about writing a song. It would be gorgeous, he thinks, the sound of her hum layered under his singing voice. Isla carries on, ‘usually in the evenings and sometimes on Saturdays, but they need me this afternoon, too. Aiden’s a sweetie, and it’s good money.’

‘For sure,’ Niall nods, hitching his backup up as it starts to slide down his shoulder. ‘You can head into Dublin and go shopping, like.’

‘I could, yeah. Been saving it, though,’ Isla hesitates for a minute, like she’s nervous. Niall’s quiet, and then she carries on. ‘I know it’s stupid and so far away but if I want to be able to go to uni in London… I mean, I don’t know if I’d get in or anything, but I need to have money saved up for a flat and stuff.’

‘London?’ Niall feels shaky at the idea of Isla so far away. At the idea of Mullingar without her. At the idea of her getting out of this place before him. Niall knows his uni prospects aren’t great, and, without a miracle, there’s no way he’d be able to afford to move to London. He’s trapped here for the rest of his life, the way his whole family has been for generations. It’s an idea he’s never been fond of—but it feels so much worse without the thought of Isla by his side.

‘I know it’s stupid,’ Isla says again. ‘But I’ve already saved almost 400 euro from babysitting and birthday money. Plus my communion money, which my parents put away for uni, too. If I actually manage to get an acceptance anywhere… I think I can afford to do it.’

‘It’s not stupid,’ Niall rushes to say. ‘And neither are you, Isla. There are millions of unis in London, you’ll definitely get in somewhere.’

Isla’s quiet for a few moments and they keep walking together, their shoes crunching over fallen leaves, Isla’s uniform skirt fluttering in the chilly wind. Niall’s eye catches on the flash of skin just above her knee and it hits him that she’s worn her knee high socks today instead of the tights girls usually wear when it gets cold. He lets his eyes trail up her body, slowly, and he lands on the way her arms are crossed over her chest tightly, her lips pressed together from the cold. Something tightens in his stomach.

‘Are you cold?’ He asks, although the answer is obvious. He realizes it now: the apples of her cheeks are flushed pink and she’s shivering a little, only wearing her school sweater. He can’t believe he’d been so oblivious.

‘It’s okay,’ Isla tightens her arms around herself. ‘I overslept this morning and I was rushing. Couldn’t find my stockings and I forgot my fecking coat. Bit of an eejit when I’m tired, really.’

‘You’re fucking freezing,’ Niall doesn’t let himself hesitate. He stops walking and drops his book bag to the ground before pulling his grey Derby jumper off over his head. Now he’s in just his school sweater, but he doesn’t mind. ‘Isla, it’s like 8 degrees out. Here.’

‘No, what, Niall,’ she shakes her head, but Niall can tell she’s freezing. She’s staring at his jumper, practically shaking. ‘Now you’ve got nothing.’

‘I’m a lad. Lads run warmer than girls, here, take it. Plus, if you catch a cold out here then Aiden will catch one too.’

Isla hesitates, but when she reaches out to take the sweatshirt her hands are shaking, practically purple from the cold. In his chest, Niall’s heart pangs pathetically as he watches her slide into his clothes. She looks like something Niall’s seen in his dreams.

Niall’s so skinny that his hoodie actually looks a little snug on Isla, but she’s grateful nonetheless, and Niall can’t help his fluttering stomach when she tucks her chin against her shoulder to hide a shy smile. He wants to see her like this all the time: in his clothes, in front of everyone. Or, he thinks, a sudden flash of something embarrassing in the pit of his belly, just for him, tangled in the sheets of his twin-sized bed, just his sweatshirt, nothing else. He feels bad thinking about her like that, shakes the idea away as quickly as he can.

Isla asks about his plans for the evening and he tells her about how he’s part of the starting squad for Friday’s football match, for the very first time. They talk football as they walk: Isla about Arsenal, Niall about Derby, and she teases him, bangs her shoulder against his as they joke, tilts her head to give him smiles that make his chest warm and his stomach stir. He hardly even notices when they round the corner to the O’Hagans, doesn’t put two and two together until Isla puts her backpack down to take off his jumper.

‘No, no,’ Niall stops her, hand coming out to rest on her arm. They both still, wide eyes, shaking hands. ‘Keep it. You can give it back to me tomorrow.’

‘Niall.’

‘It’s fine, Isla. You’re cold, and Aiden’s gonna want to go to the park, probably. I’ve got a million more jumpers at home.’ He means it, the logical reasoning—but he also likes the thought of her in it, even when she’s not with him.

‘Thank you,’ she says, quiet. Now that he’s standing still, Niall realizes how much the temperature dropped while they were walking. He can see Isla’s breath as she talks. ‘The, uh. The uni I want to go to in London… it’s King’s College. Their law program.’

‘Shit,’ Niall lets out a low whistle. ‘That’s brilliant, Isla.’

‘I don’t know if I’ll get in,’ she says again, and it makes Niall want to scream. ‘I just… I haven’t said that aloud to anybody yet. Not even my mam and dad. I just… just wanted to say it. To someone.’

‘You can say anything to me,’ Niall’s freezing, but he doesn’t dare move. ‘Anything.’

Isla presses her lips together and then opens her mouth. She takes two deep breaths, eyes locked on Niall and he can feel it, can almost hear what she’s about to say—what he so badly wants her to say. He thinks he could throw up from how badly he wants it, from how close they both are to it.

A gust of wind blows Isla’s hair back into her face and Niall doesn’t stop himself this time. He reaches out gently, tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. It’s soft and sweet and he lets his fingers trail down gently, his thumb tracing the outer shell of her ear. Isla’s hand, freezing cold and shaking, grasps Niall’s wrist and they stay like that for a quiet minute, the sun setting around them, eyes locked on each other.

‘I know,’ is what Isla says eventually. It’s so quiet, just for him. ‘I know I can. Thank you.’

And then she drops her hand. And he does too. And Niall is frozen to the ground as he watches her pick her bookbag back up, throw it over her shoulder, and turn to walk up the path to the O’Hagan’s. When she reaches the front door she turns back around one last time, a soft smile, a sweet wave, and then she lets herself inside and Niall’s still there, freezing and on fire, his heart battering against his ribs like it’s never done before.

####

taglist: @stylishmuser @thicksniall @stayclose-holdsteady @niallhoranruinsme@ajayque @halfpinthoran @flickerswinehouse

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#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #something about you #we're almost there lads!!

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

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The Next Best Thing Chapter 9

Anne tells her the big news over lunch.

Cathy is eating lukewarm school pasta; Anne has a Mary lunch.

(Anne is the only person Cathy knows who has three sorts of school lunches- what they call Jane lunch, Mary lunch and Fancy lunch.

Usually- when things are normal-ish, when she’s just at home like normal and it’s Mary’s job to take her to school, she gets a Mary lunch, which means whatever sandwich Mary has made in a rush, in between feeding Baby Catherine and getting herself ready and checking Anne is wearing school uniform and not her Ninja turtles tshirt (although sometimes Mary forgets to check the last one).

Mary lunches are mostly ok, except that they’re usually a bit squashed....although once Mary was SO tired from being up with Baby Catherine she forgot to put in a filling and Anne had to pretend to the other children on the lunch table that she’d just asked for bread and butter that day.

(They didn’t look like they believed her.)

The other end of the scale is a Fancy lunch, and there’s only two times Anne gets one of those: either after the Mary lunch has been especially bad (or when she gets secret lunch option number four- which is actually no lunch at all because Mary forgot to pick up bread, or picked up the bread but forgot the making-the-sandwich part or remembered the bread and the sandwich making part but forgot to put it in Anne’s bag) and their teacher has called Anne over to ask, in hushed tones, Is Everything Alright At Home?

The other time is after something else has slipped a bit (once when Mary was sick, Anne didn’t come to school for two days) and the ‘chat’ has turned into a phone call.

And that’s when Anne gets a Fancy lunch.

Fancy lunches are never the same but always ten times nicer than whatever anyone else has for lunch that day, because no one actually makes them, Anne’s mum orders them from a special company who spend all their time just making fancy lunches that can fit into a lunchbox- tiny wraps with fancy fillings skewered on cocktail sticks and rolls of rice and seaweed in pretty patterns and little individual quiches.

The only bad thing about them is that they never last for more than a few days and then lunch making becomes Mary’s job again and it can be a bit disappointing to suddenly get a squashed marmite sandwich instead of the fancy lunch-in-a-box you were expecting.

Jane lunches are sort of in the middle of the two, Cathy supposes.

They’re never as fancy as the Fancy lunches (Jane doesn’t seem to shop at the places that sell quinoa and lemongrass) and they’re not exciting really, just sandwiches and fruit.

Then again, they always always have things that Anne definitely likes in them, whereas there’s nearly always a bit of the Fancy lunch that she has to pick off and set aside because she doesn’t like it, like the truffles that didn’t look or taste at all like chocolate.

They’re never as pretty as the Fancy lunches either but Jane does things like cutting off the crusts and peeling the apple and cutting it into slices that Anne’s mum never seems to want to do when it’s her actually fixing the food.

(It makes the food taste nice.)

The best thing about Jane’s lunches is that she never gets cross if a bit of it doesn’t get eaten, apart from to ask if Anne wants something else next time. She never gets ‘I don’t know why I even bother paying for nice things for you’ angry like Anne’s dad did when he found out about the uneaten truffles-that-were-really-mushrooms.

And if she’s done any baking- and Jane bakes a LOT- there’s always a biscuit or a little piece of cake or a pastry twist wrapped up carefully in greaseproof paper, ready for Anne to split in half and share with Cathy in return for all the times that Cathy shared her own food on no-lunch days.

Cathy doesn’t have packed lunches now that she’s with Catalina but she has sometimes wondered what they’d be like and she figures they’d probably be closer to the Jane lunches than the Fancy lunches.

Oddly enough, the thought does not make her feel all that disappointed.

Anne tells her the Big News right away, because she can’t keep secrets, and the big news is that Anne’s getting to have a sleepover for her birthday.

Cathy asks when and Anne says that it’ll be on the Saturday coming because that’s when her birthday is going to be.

Cathy knows when Anne’s birthday is- she has it written down in the furry purple My Secret Diary that she got for Christmas, because there’s a section to write down things about your friends, and she has Anne written down first because she’s her best friend- and she feels a bit guilty, like maybe she should have remembered.

Anne doesn’t seem to mind though.

Anne says that when she asked her mum the night before what she was doing for her birthday this year, and could they go to Splash Zone again like last year, her mum had nodded and said YesMaybeAskDaddy (which is how she answers lots of things).....and then she’d sat up, and she’d put down her glossy magazine and checked something on her phone and her eyes had gone very wide.

So instead of SplashZone- because now there isn’t time to book it before the weekend, Anne’s getting a sleepover party.

Part of the treat is the sleepover, according to Anne, and part of the treat is meant to be that she doesn’t have to share the sleepover with Kitty, even though Kitty lives at Anne’s house most of the time.

Anne says she doesn’t mind sharing her bedroom but she IS glad Kitty isn’t going to be at the sleepover.

According to Anne, Kitty hasn’t been much fun at all since Uncle Edmund dropped her off and she won’t play anything that Anne wants to play anymore, even when Anne offers her usual chocolate button bribe, and it turns out it’s VERY hard to play even easy games like chase when it’s only you.

Actually, Anne isn’t sure if she should be cross about this or not because it’s not just that Kitty won’t play Anne’s games, she doesn’t seem to want to play anything at all: she just clings to Jane’s skirt, waiting for her to finish whatever she’s doing and sit down so that she can she can fold herself up small in Jane’s lap.

She clings to a handful of Jane’s shirt with one hand and only raggedly old Pink Kitty with the other, like she’s afraid someone is going to take one or both of them away if she lets go, sucking her thumb and not saying a word.

And when she isn’t silent- which is honestly most of the time, according to Anne- she’s having huge screaming tantrums over stupid things like cleaning her teeth or putting on her pajamas. Cathy finds it hard to imagine Kitty- who was quiet as a mouse nearly all the time, even before Edmund- even raising her voice once let alone screaming but Anne assures her that it’s true.

She says that it’s giving her a headache.

Her mum and dad and Mary are officially Losing Patience, which is why Kitty is going to be with Jane for a bit.

Officially, it’s as part of Anne’s birthday treat, but Anne thinks they were planning it anyway because she heard Mary complaining to her mum, and then she heard her Mum talking on the phone to someone about being At The End of Her Tether, and she kept shaking her head and looking over at where Kitty was curled up in a little ball on the edge of the sofa, not even watching the tv (although Anne had specially foregone Rugrats for the boring baby program about the baggy pink cat because Kitty liked it).

Or, Kitty used to like it.

Now she doesn’t seem to like very much at all anymore.

Mary and Anne’s Mum and Dad don’t seem to mind Kitty being extra quiet but they do mind the tantrums- and the way Kitty has started waking up in the night crying and disturbing everybody when Some People Have To Work In The Morning Fergodsake, and the way the Reception teacher has started to call home because she’s ‘concerned’.

Jane calls round too when she hears that Anne’s dad has taken away the Barbie Kitty got for promising not to suck her thumb anymore, and says they all need to make allowances right now, whatever that means.

She and Anne’s mum drink cappuccinos- because Anne’s mum has a special expensive new machine that makes them- and Jane talks about reassurance and sense of security and unconditional love, while Anne’s mum talks about discipline and consequences and legal custody.

Eventually Anne’s mum tells Jane that she’s not a social worker anymore so she needs to stop acting like one, and that Kitty isn’t a baby any more and they need to stop coddling her, that maybe Edmund was right about some things.

And then Jane goes home.

So Kitty won’t be at the sleepover, Anne says. It’ll be just her and Cathy- and Anna.

Cathy tries to smile and look pleased that Anna’s invited too- it’s not that she doesn’t like her, exactly, it’s just that for Anne’s first sleepover, she’d rather it was just them.

It’s a bit easier to be properly happy when Anne tells Anna because Anna looks excited but also a bit surprised too- as if she’s not expecting to be asked. That makes Cathy feel better. It reminds her that Anna really isn’t out to steal her best friend, which is something Catalina reminds her of whenever she seems to need it.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, my mum said I could have two friends.’ Anne nibbles the crust of her sandwich (peanut butter) delicately, trying to make the edges of the bread straight.

‘I’ll ask Mutti when I get home- she’ll say yes, she’ll be happy I’m making friends-’ Anna beams. ‘I used to have sleepovers back home- back in Germany. With my old friends.’

‘Cool!’

Cathy takes another bite of soggy school lasagne and wonders why Anna always has to bring her old home into everything.

It’s sort of interesting to hear but it also makes her wonder if there’s anything that Anna hasn’t done or seen before everyone else.

She wants to ask what German sleepovers are like but then she doesn’t.

(Whatever they’re like, they’re probably a hundred times cooler than whatever English sleepovers.)

#the next best thing #six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #sixfic #six fanfiction

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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The Goode Case, 13/14 (Jaida/Jan) - Juno

Chapter summary: With the Goode Case finally closing, all that is left is for Jaida to do is survive the interview into what happened, and find out if Jan ever wants to see her again.

(A/N: So we’re nearly at the end now! Thank you all so much for all your support. Here is part thirteen. I hope you enjoy!)

Wednesday 1stNovember

5.54PM

They’d spent most of the day in separate interviews, needing to keep away from each other as was custom, to confirm their stories were all straight. Jaida had had to keep away from Brita and Jackie while they went between interviews, around the building; even taking separate lunches – Jaida going at twelve. Jaida had missed her teammates more than she could put into words. It had surprised her, really, how much closer she’d grown to Jackie and Brita in the last four days, but spending the day without them felt like losing a leg.

The only person she’d spotted in passing was Crystal, as she’d walked past the window of the café she’d gone to for lunch. Crystal hadn’t seen Jaida, but Jaida knew she was only in the area for the interview; and thinking about it, Crystal probably had the most information to give out of the eight of them who were there yesterday.

Between the eight of them that had been there – three detectives, four members of public, and of course the victim’s statement from hospital – it sounded like the volume of stories would corroborate with each other. No matter how far fetched the story itself sounded.

At four thirty, interview process was done.

Jaida had entered their usual meeting room, finding Brita and Jackie had arrived before her, and were sat side by side, their arms linked, Jackie resting her head on Brita’s right shoulder; but neither of them looked at each other, or Jaida as she came in, both of them staring glassy-eyed at the opposite wall.

Jaida had simply understood. She’d crossed the room, and sat in the empty chair on Brita’s left, linking her arm through Brita’s. Brita squeezed Jaida’s arm to her side, and the three of them stayed still, silent for a long time, content to just be in each others’ company.

It was Brita who had come out the worst out of the three of them. She looked utterly exhausted, bags forming under her eyes, her skin still pallid, her hair covered by the hood of her favourite grey hoodie. She was far less exuberant than usual, her brown eyes dull, and when she spoke, her voice croaked as though she were recovering from a cold.

“Pizza?”

“Mantione’s?” Jaida had said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Jackie had replied.

Jackie had still parted her fringe to the left, although the bruise on her forehead from Sunday was starting to turn yellow and fade away. She looked pale, and was wearing an extra hoodie, shivering with cold as they stepped outside into the November evening.

The cold air seeming to rejuvenate them all, Jaida found herself overcome with emotion all of a sudden, and pulled Brita and Jackie into a hug; they both paused, dazed, before reciprocating, and the three of them stood in a hug for what seemed like hours.

“Huh,” Brita said eventually, when they broke apart. “What a day.”

At Mantione’s, Jan was on shift, but mentioned she was due to stop at six when Brita asked. She seemed nonplussed at their appearance in the diner, and didn’t seem to want to stay with them for very long, although the diner was quiet.

Instead she went to sit with Crystal and Aiden, who had appeared in the diner about ten minutes after they did, and was still there, deep in conversation with Crystal, nodding earnestly every now and then.

Jaida felt a pang, thinking that Jan might not even want to know her any more. And could she blame her?

It was Jan’s brother Paul who actually brought them their pizzas, giving Brita a rub on her arm as he put them down, concern written all over his face. How much did he know? What had Jan told him? But they didn’t have time to think much on it, as the smell of pizza seemed to bring them back to life. Jaida hadn’t felt able to eat much at lunch, and her stomach growled.

Two or three slices later, the three of them begun to speak a little more freely again.

“Did the hospital report back on Gigi?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “The good news is she was totally fine, apart from being a bit dehydrated. They’re pumping her with fluids and stuff, and she’s getting released tomorrow, all being well.”

“That’s great news,” Jaida said, looking over at Crystal. “I bet she’ll be happy to get her girlfriend back.”

“Since there is no one to press charges against – no one alive, anyway – the Goode Case is officially closing. Thank God,” Brita added with a groan.

“So …” Jaida asked, putting a hand on Brita’s forearm, “what do you remember?”

Brita laughed bitterly. “Like, almost nothing. When I went to the house on Monday, on my own, I told myself I’d left my torch. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I’d made a mistake. Michelle just kind of …” Brita clamped both her hands on either side of her head and squeezed, unable to explain in any other way. “I felt like I was in a … a really deep sleep, most of the rest of Monday and all Tuesday. I remember a few bits, but they feel like dreams.”

“I bet the interviewer loved that,” Jackie muttered.

“I was fine after Michelle left me, it’s all crystal clear memories after that. But … I’m really nervous to do anything else like this now. Seriously. All this projection stuff has made me freaked out.”

“I meant to give you this on Monday, speaking of that,” Jaida reached into her bag and took out the book that Dahlia had given her.

Brita turned it over. “Astral Projection For Beginners: A Complete Guide.” Brita laughed nervously. “Thanks. You still owe me a Christmas present though.”

There was a loud gasp from one of the booths on the other side of the diner. Brita turned to crane her neck, before turning back to Jaida and Jackie with a sigh.

“Seriously, though, why are they both avoiding us tonight?” Brita asked.

Jackie and Jaida turned around to the booth twenty feet away on the other side of the diner. Jan was still sitting with Crystal and Aiden, nodding emphatically, listening to whatever it was they were saying.

“Have you spoken to either of them?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “I messaged Aiden. She said that Crystal was talking to Jan last night, which was great as I was too. I think she’s gonna be fine. It was just a shitty experience for her. I really owe her big time for what Michelle did to her. Dragging her to a plane with a fire in it! That’s Jan’s biggest fear.”

“It is?” Jaida put a hand to her mouth.

“Yeah. Jan says she just remembers fainting, and then coming round with Dahlia putting those smelly things under her nose. Not a great Tuesday evening.”

Jaida watched as Jan stood up, still out of earshot, and walked out from the booth with Crystal and Aiden, making her way back behind the bar and disappearing into the back area.

“She’s as into you as you’re into her.” Brita grinned.

“What you talking about?” Jaida tried to feign nonchalance.

“Sis, Jan swore to me that she wouldn’t do any dating until she’d landed a part, and she said you’re taking her out this Friday.”

“Wait, what? Why would she break that for me?”

Brita gave her a cynical smile. “Come on Jaida, have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Girl I know, I’m hot, I make all the ladies go wild,” Jaida joked, pushing her braids back over her shoulders, “but that don’t mean all the ladies want to actually date me.”

“Well, Jan’s sole focus is her career,” Brita said. “All the wants is to perform. When we were kids, that was all she wanted to do all the time. She’d put on musical numbers to all her Barbies. And me. I was an honorary Barbie.”

“Honorary Barbie!” Jackie shrieked with laughter.

“Shut up, Jackie! But – the point is that Jan doesn’t break her focus for anything. Including girls, normally. This is a big deal for her.”

Jaida tilted her head cynically. “Is it the uniform as well?”

Brita paused. “Maybe a little bit.”

“I knew it! It always is!”

Jan emerged, her hair freed from the bun she wore it in for shift, and her apron and shirt discarded, replaced by a purple hoodie. She pottered around behind the bar, grabbing herself a bottle of coke.

“So – what’s the next step?” Brita asked.

Jaida finished her bite and stood up. “Probably this.” She strode to the bar, as Jackie and Brita looked confusedly after her.

Jan tensed a little when she saw Jaida approaching the bar.

“Oh, Jaida,” she said, a small forced smile gracing her face, but her eyes were wary.

“Hey, Jan,” Jaida replied. “Can I get a Pinot, and whatever the beautiful lady behind the bar wants?”

“Sure.” Jan stopped at the fridge and looked up. “Wait. Are you buying me a drink?”

“Yeah,” Jaida shifted from one foot to the other. “Your shift ends now, right?”

Jan poured herself a Pinot as well, and within a few minutes they were in a booth of their own. The diner was still quiet, a few people starting to bustle in, but they were mostly hidden, although Jan’s eyes kept darting amusedly around the diner.

“I think we’re being watched,” Jan murmured, a glint in her eye.

“I know, Brita looks far too happy with herself right now.” Jaida looked over at Brita and Jackie, Brita giving them a thumbs up while Jackie put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Well, not just Brita,” Jan said, pointing to Crystal and Aiden, on the other side of the diner, who both turned from staring at them to looking down at their food in feigned innocence.

“Have you spoken to Brita since – since yesterday afternoon at all?” Jaida said quietly.

Jan sighed. “Yeah, we had a long call late last night, so I know she was, like, possessed or something when she brought me to the house. It sounded really strange at first, but then Crystal was calling me with the same news, so I said I’d meet them today. Crystal told me about what happened.”

“And you’re fine with her explanation? You believe us?”

“I think …” Jan paused. “I think I’ll just need a bit of time to process it. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it weird, but I’ve known Brita since we were kids,” Jan shrugged. “She wouldn’t lie about something like that. I know that whoever it was who brought me to that place wasn’t Brita. Brita would never – well, she knows how scared I am of fire.”

“It wasn’t Brita,” Jaida shook her head fervently. “She’d never hurt you. She’s really beating herself up about the whole thing.”

Jan looked suddenly curious. “Do you guys always do paranormal stuff together? Like, Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc or something?”

Jaida choked on her wine. “How much did Crystal tell you exactly?”

“Well, I know Crystal sees ghosts and stuff – she tells practically anyone, you know – and she said you did the same thing! And that you – you had to leave your body and go between astral planes or something to get me!”

“Something like that,” Jaida shifted in her chair. “Yeah, I guess. But we all helped. Crystal probably helped most of all. Are Crystal and Aiden both alright after yesterday?” Jaida asked tentatively.

“Crystal’s over the freaking moon to have Gigi back, she’s so happy you wouldn’t believe. But … Jesus, she’s so sweet – she literally rang me from hospital last night to check up on me. Said she was pretty much the only person in the building not to have something spooky happen to them, so she felt it was her duty or something.”

Jan shook her head, smiling into her glass. “She does too much. Like – she always says if she was in an action movie, she’d be the one with the sword running screaming into the middle of a battlefield.”

“She needs some time for herself too,” Jaida replied.

“Aiden said Crystal kind of broke down at lunch, after their interviews. Because – because Crystal was trying to explain it all to Aiden; she remembers nothing! I think she had to take her home for a bit before they came out here.” Jan glanced at Crystal, who was deep in conversation and not looking at them any more. “She does too much.”

“Oh,” Jaida lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but an interesting development is happening.”

Jackie was pulling Brita by the sleeve of her hoodie, along to the other side of the diner, and Jaida watched them say something to the students before climbing into the opposite seat to them.

“Oh, Jesus, finally.” Jan looked relieved. “Honestly, they’ve both been driving me nuts.” She motioned to her phone. “I’ve had to give Aiden one lot of advice and Brita another.”

“Wait, they’ve both been sending you messages about each other? Instead of just – sending them to each other?” Jaida held back a laugh.

“They’re useless. Both of them.” Jan shook her head, exasperated. “Brita’s thinking too much. She wants the freaking planets to align or something, and all the details to be completely perfect. I’ve already told her that I haven’t seen Aiden this cheerful since we all dressed goth and went to see Marilyn Manson for her birthday. Aiden won’t care about the minor details. But Aiden just won’t say out loud what she’s feeling, and I think that’s what Brita needs to hear from her.”

“They’re both worrying about nothing,” Jaida agreed.

“So – maybe this is a good sign. If they can both pull their heads out their asses.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Why are we talking about Brita and Aiden, anyway? They’ll work things out. I just –“ Jaida held her eyes, “I just want to sit with you for a while.”

But Jan’s grin started to fade from her face, and she averted her gaze.

“What?” Jaida asked.

“I’m …” Jan laughed, but all Jaida heard was nerves. “I’m nobody, really – I’m just working here in my parents’ restaurant, saving money, auditioning every spare minute, not really getting anywhere, but you – you’re the real deal! You got a job, and an apartment, and an exciting life! And ghosts and stuff!” Jan looked awed. “It’s fascinating. I never saw a ghost. My brother Charlie says he did once, but we just tease him about it.”

“Believe me, fascinating is putting it nicely,” Jaida murmured, suddenly worried at where this conversation was going.

“You’re –“ but Jan didn’t finish her sentence, looking back up at Jaida and laughing humourlessly, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not!”

“To think that someone like you …” Jan paused, waving her hand to try to articulate, but giving up and sighing. “Never mind.”

“Jan,” Jaida took a breath. “I – and I’m being honest! – I really, really think you’re great, and …” Jaida’s tongue was tying, but she swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the dry feeling in her throat. “And if you’re happy, I really don’t want this to change anything for us. I’d still like us to go out, on Friday. But if you’re uncomfortable …” Jaida exhaled, trying to keep her nerves in check, “if you’re uncomfortable, because of everything that happened yesterday, I totally understand.”

Jaida took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable let down.

Instead, Jan leant across the table in the booth and kissed her gently on the lips.

It took a second for Jaida to realise before she returned the pressure; Jan’s touch was so gentle that Jaida held her breath, hardly daring to believe this was happening. She lifted a hand to Jan’s jaw, threading her fingers into her hair …

Jan pulled away sharply when a whoop came from the other booth, and Jaida leaned over to see Crystal waving her fists in the air, a huge grin on her face, while Aiden hid her face in her hands in embarrassment at her friend.

“Oh, yeah,” Jan shrugged apologetically. “I think they’re excited about this as well.”

Thursday 2ndNovember

6.21PM

“Salut Nicky. Hi Heidi.” Jackie unlocked the door without looking up, and was so distracted as she entered the apartment with hanging up her coat and kicking off her shoes that she didn’t even realise Jaida was there too.

JACQUELINE!

“What?” Jackie cried, almost dropping her bag. Her eyes darted to the couch, where Jaida was sat.

“What are you doing here?” She frowned. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!”

“Getting fashion advice for my date with Jan tomorrow. I asked Heidi and she said that Nicky was the expert, so here I am!” Jaida motioned to the rest of the couch, which was empty. Jackie looked all around the room.

“Where are they then?”

“They went to Nicky’s room about …” Jaida checked her watch. “About twenty minutes ago, said they were just going in to get some clothes. I thought I’d leave them to it for a while.” She grinned knowingly at Jackie, who grinned knowingly back.

“If you’d told me you were coming over, I’d have put some food on for us all.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” Jaida cocked her head. “You should read my mind!”

“Don’t,” Jackie sighed. “I’m trying not to at the moment. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Do you know what it’s like, sitting in the office next to Brita, when she’s just trying to read messages from Aiden and then decipher in her head what they all mean? If I hear her thinking ‘but what does this mean, what does that mean’ much more I’m going to throw my laptop at her.”

“She’s gonna be mad when she finds out you’ve been hearing her thoughts!” Jaida teased.

“I think the idea has grown on her since last week,” Jackie shrugged. “Just … in moderation.”

Heidi’s raucous laughter came from Nicky’s room, followed by Nicky’s far more polite giggle, and then silence.

“I know when Nicky is at home now! I like Heidi a lot, she’s great – but then she got hold of my big French dictionary and started looking up rude words.” Jackie laughed. “Now all I need to do is listen out for Putain, Merde or anything else that comes out of her mouth.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Sounds like Heidi.”

“I’ve moved my Farsi dictionary to my room. I’m not taking any chances!”

Nicky’s door opened and Nicky and Heidi spilled out, carrying a small pile of clothes each, both looking a little flustered, Nicky’s blonde bob dishevelled.

“Here they are,” Jackie announced, cocking an eyebrow at them both.

“Your closet goes to Narnia, does it?” Jaida grinned.

“No, we were just Heidi, in the closet!” Heidi screeched with laugher, while Nicky, a little more restrained, giggled next to her. “Get it? ‘Cause I’m Heidi and I was just in a closet?”

“Comedy gold, sis.” Jaida was laughing along with them. “Have you got anything I can try out?”

“We found a few things you might like,” Nicky winked at her, laying her pile on the back of one of the chairs of the dining table. “But this one was our favourite!”

She held it up in front of Jaida, whose eyes widened. Between them, Heidi and Nicky had settled on a sparkly gold mini dress with capped sleeves, and a longer train at the back that almost reached the floor.

“Alright, let’s give it a try.”

Once Jaida changed into it, emerging from the bathroom in an exaggerated catwalk strut, Nicky clapped her hands gleefully while Heidi gave her a whistle.

Jackie, however, was frowning at it.

“I don’t know – I mean, you look stunning, Jai, but it doesn’t really scream first date, does it?” Jackie said, scratching the back of her neck. “It says a nice formal occasion. But you’re only going for coffee. I think it needs to tone down a bit.”

“Check with Brita, she knows Jan better than we do,” Heidi suggested, grabbing Jaida’s phone to take a picture.

Jaida:Brittany!!

Jaida:How about this for tomorrow evening? X

Brita:Girl you’re like SMOKING hot! Maybe not for coffee though xx

Jaida: What do you think Jan will wear?

Brita: Jan’s really chill. Denim jacket, skirt and sneakers

Brita:Maybe one of her Patriots shirts if she gets stuck x

Brita:She just sent me her outfit: denim mini and hi tops xx

“Yeah, I need something more casual,” Jaida said, reaching for the zip on the dress.

Friday 3rdNovember

6.12PM

It had been too confusing with all the conflicting opinions. Jaida had settled with black jeans and a deep red blouse, and threw a warm jacket over it. It was a little too cold to go without one. She’d managed to get away early, but then her bus was late, congestion and New York traffic making her twitch nervously and watch out the window.

By the time she got off the bus, it was ten past six. She hurried along the street, hoping she wasn’t too late. Hoping Jan was still there, or maybe Jan was late too.

But Jan was already there, looking in the opposite direction, hugging her lilac jacket around her, her blonde hair shifting effortlessly in the wind.

No time like the present.

Jaida crossed the road and approached Jan from behind. She saw Jan catch sight of her reflection in the window, before mimicking nonchalance and letting Jaida approach.

“Boo!”

“Aah!” Jan turned in a half-hearted display of horror, before breaking into a warm smile. Her light brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked at Jaida up and down, drinking in her figure.

“You look incredible!” Jan grinned.

“So do you,” Jaida smiled back at her.

“You’re so lying. I’m in a Pats shirt!” Her laugh filled the air around them.

“You still look incredible.” Jaida tried to inject all the sincerity she felt into her voice. Jan was inadvertently making it very difficult to focus on anything else but her. The radiant smile, the perpetual changing movements in her face.

Jan directed Jaida into a corner in the coffee shop, on a couch that just became free as they walked in, and went to order for them. Jaida noticed how concealed they were, a small wall between the couch and the rest of the world, their own cocoon, almost entirely sheltered from people around her.

The sound of light jazz in the background and the people a few metres from them, intent on their own conversations, let Jan and Jaida submerge themselves into their own world. Jaida was starting to unwind, and Jan seemed to as well, leaning into the couch with her and resting her elbow on the back of it.

“I can only drink one now,” Jaida said, “and that’s it. Or I can’t sleep.”

Jan shrugged. “I don’t even like coffee!”

“What! What are you drinking then?”

“Hot chocolate!”

They both laughed at that. Jaida chanced a movement of her foot towards Jan’s sneakers under the table, determined to remain in control of the situation, while Jan responded by catching Jaida’s ankle between her own calves. Damnit.

“You’re a Sagittarius?”

“A sexy Sagittarius,” Jaida said with a wink. “You need to get it right.”

“I don’t think I’ve dated a sexy Sagittarius before.” Jan’s voice was becoming husky, Jaida was unsure if Jan realised it; but it was making Jaida’s skin tingle.

“What are you then?”

“Uh, a Gemini, but don’t hold that against me, we get such a bad rap.”

“What are Geminis like then?”

“Well,” Jan thought, “we’re very, uhm, there are many qualities, uhm -”

“You don’t know a damn thing about it!” Jaida cackled.

“I do! We’re quite diverse, we can seem like two different people, but we’re really, like, bubbly and energetic, sociable!” Jan nodded. “But there’s like, two different characters sometimes.”

“Like how?”

“Like, sometimes we like to be sociable with lots of people and lots of friends, and sometimes … sometimes we like a quiet time, with a hot chocolate, with maybe one gorgeous woman for company instead of a big crowd.”

“That’s Geminis, is it?” Jaida heard her voice starting to purr.

“It’s definitely some Geminis,” Jan chuckled.

“Do some Geminis also enjoy light jazz, detectives, and the occasional ghost?”

“Apparently so,” Jan murmured, that husky quality returning to her voice. “What about Sagittarians, then? Do they like pizza, getting drinks spilled on them, and the Patriots?”

Jaida tilted her head, placing a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder the question.

“Meh,” she said nonchalantly.

“Hey! Don’t call me ‘Meh’, Jaida!” Jan playfully batted at Jaida’s arm.

Neither of them could help laughing, Jan batting at Jaida again, when Jaida caught her hand this time and pulled Jan in a little closer, staying in place until they forgot to continue laughing, their faces edging nearer.

“Anything else Sagittarians like?” Jaida heard Jan breathe.

Jaida was close enough to see a scattering of freckles on Jan’s nose. Flecks of amber in her eyes.

She was getting close enough to losing herself now, and she realised that it was exactly what she wanted to do.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things,” Jaida purred, words getting harder to form, fighting to keep control. Jan was inches from her, eyelids fluttering a little, and Jaida raised a hand to stroke Jan’s jawline.

It was Jan who finally gave in, reaching forward to close the gap between their lips, her eyes falling closed. Jaida kissed her back, so slowly that it seemed to last half a lifetime, weaving her hand into Jan’s hair to make sure she was real, while her skin tingled and her mind relinquished all coherent thought, content to just lose herself in every sensation that was Jan.

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thruheavenandhighwater · 6 years

Text

Carl’s Diner

Pairing: Luke Hemmings/ Reader

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: 1,739 i got carried away omfg

You were sitting on your couch, scrolling through Instagram while Petunia napped next to you. Luke was in your bedroom, every so often you would faintly hear him strumming his guitar or singing to himself. It brought a smile to your face whenever you would hear it. It had been raining for weeks, keeping the three of you cooped up in your apartment. Everyone was beginning to get restless, a bit of cabin fever starting to set in.

Petunia shifted slightly on the couch cushions next to you, you looked up at her from your phone with a smile. Suddenly Luke appeared on your other side, slumping down onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. You put a hand at the back of his head and started to run your fingers through his curls, while turning your smile into an exaggerated frown. “What's the matter, sad boy?”

He leaned over to you, resting his head on your shoulder. “Bored. So bored.”

You kissed the top of his head, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What do you want to do?”

He groaned as he moved to wrap his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “Anything.” He answered quietly, his voice muffled slightly by the fabric of your sweater. “Anything would be better than staying in the apartment forever until we die.”

“Well we can't have you dying, can we?” You asked, your voice soft. He hugged you tighter, a barely audible “nuh uh” falling from his lips, “Then let's go do something. Look, the rain looks like it might let up a little bit.” Luke snapped his head up to look out the window. The sky was still pretty gloomy, but it was brighter and the rain was falling lighter than it had in days.

He stood up quickly, pulling you up with him. “Go. Now. Dressed.” He playfully pushed you toward the bedroom down the hall. You laughed out loud when you were finally inside your room, walking over to your closet to find a change of clothes. You looked over your shoulder to see Luke shedding his grey sweatpants, kicking the into the corner of the room and replacing them with a pair of black dress pants. You couldn't help but to giggle at him as you watched.

A few minutes later both of you had changed from pajamas into clothes that would be appropriate for the date night you'd been talking about having. Luke, in his black pants, an old Pink Floyd t-shirt, and the leather jacket you'd gotten him for Christmas. While you opted for simple, black jeans and a teal blue v-neck top that hugged your curves perfectly. You were facing the mirror that hung on your closet door fixing your hair when you felt Luke's arms around you and his lips just below your ear. “Have I told you lately how absolutely gorgeous you are?” he whispered. You turned your face to the side and kissed him, you could feel him smiling into the kiss and it made your heart flutter. You broke the kiss and slipped into a pair of black flats before you and Luke walked out the door together.

As you got into Luke's car he took your hand in his, planting a kiss to the back of your hand before resting them on the center console. You smiled over at him, taking a moment to appreciate how happy he made you. Giving his hand a light squeeze, you asked him where you were going.

“I was thinking I want to go somewhere we haven't been. Somewhere brand new.” His answer shocked you because Luke was a creature of habit. You didn't mind his routine, but you had to admit that you loved when he decided to mix things up. There was something oddly exciting about it.

After driving around for about half an hour the two of you found yourselves outside of a small diner that neither of you had ever heard of. “This is as good a place as any, yeah?” Luke asked you as he took his key from the ignition. You just smiled wide at him in response.

Once you were inside you realized that you were both defintely overdressed. Every other customer seemed to be wearing jeans and dirty work boots, and you swear a few of them were definitely giving you the side eye as Luke put his hand behind your back and led you to a booth near the back. He leaned down and whispered to you, “You look incredible. They all wish they had someone so beautiful on their arm.” You looked up at him, and he winked at you with a smile.

Once you were seated a middle aged woman with greying brown hair approached your table, two menus in hand. Her name tag said “Karen,” and you couldn't help but to smile when you noticed the faded tattoo on her wrist of the name Jesse.

Karen set your menus down on your table with a smile. “What can I get you kids to drink?” You both answered that you just wanted water. She nodded and smiled at you again. “Alright, then. I'll grab those and be back in few for your orders.”

When she walked away Luke picked up a menu, handing the other one to you. It was a pretty standard diner menu from what you could tell. Burgers and fries, meatloaf, milkshakes. The usual suspects. Karen came back after a few minutes with your drinks and asked if you were ready to order. You both ordered your standard for when you're at a restaurant you don't know, bacon cheeseburgers with fries and extra pickles. She took your menus from you and headed back behind the counter.

Luke reached across the table and took your hand in his once again, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of it. You smiled at familiarity of it, loving the way your hands fit together perfectly.

The two of you spent the next few minutes talking about your work, and the new album Luke was working on. He was in the middle of telling you about one song he was working on with Michael when your waitress appeared with your food.

“You kids enjoy, and let me know if you need anything else.” You both thanked her as she set your plates in front of you. She gave you a quick smile before walking away, greeting another customer as they took a seat in another booth.

Luke took a bite of his burger and actually moaned while he chewed. “Seriously, (Y/N),” he started, his mouth still half full. “This is the best burger I've ever had.” You smiled at him and picked up your own sandwich. You took a bite, and damn he was right. The meat juicy and seasoned perfectly, and whoever made it knew that “extra pickles” meant you wanted more than one extra pickles chip. You furrowed your brows and shot Luke a big thumbs up, your mouth too full to verbally agree with him.

The rest of your meal was much the same. You and Luke continued to talk about work, and your friends, and of course how much Petunia would love a burger from here. As you were finishing up Luke pointed out a sign that hung over the counter, advertising the pie of the day.

“Babe, I know you love strawberry pie.” He said, raising his eyebrows at you. You were way too full for pie, but having been in a relationship with Luke for this long you knew that he still had plenty of room.

“Order yourself a slice, Luke. There is no way I could eat one, though.”

“Or,” he started, raising his eyebrows again while he drew out the single syllable as long as he could. “I order two slices. We share one here, and take the other one home for later?”

You smiled at him, and he smiled back even wider than before, poking the tip of his tongue between his teeth. “Okay, okay.” You relented.

“You're the best, babe.” He said, standing up halfway in the booth to lean over the table and place a kiss on your forehead.

When Karen came to clear the table, Luke ordered the two slices of strawberry pie, asking her if she could put one in a box. When she came back a moment later she was carrying one plate and two forks. You had to smile at the sight. Something about a nice, older lady in a powder blue diner uniform serving you a desert to share with the love of your life almost reminded you of a movie or something. Luke picked up his fork and took the first bite. His reaction to the pie was somehow even better than his reaction to his burger.

“We're gonna have to ask her to add another piece to that box.” He said with a chuckle. You picked up your own fork, taking a small bite since you were still full from dinner.

“Oh, yeah. I am so not sharing with you later.” You said, going in for another piece. Luke laughed you and raised his hand to get her attention.

“Excuse me, ma'am?” He called to her.

She came over, your boxed piece of pie in one hand and your check in the other. “How was everything?”

“Amazing. The best burgers and pie I've ever had.” Luke answered her. “Is there any way at all we would be able to add one more piece of pie to that box?”

She laughed at him quietly, resting one hand on his shoulder. “Of course, hun. No problem.” She walked away with the box, leaving your check on the table. When she came back, she handed the box to you and said “The second slice is on the house tonight. You two are just about the sweetest people I've waited on all day.” You thanked her again before she left once more to wait on other customers.

“That’s it.” Luke said, putting some cash on the table before standing up. “This is officially my favorite place in the world. We're coming here forever.” You took his hand in yours as you walked out the front door of the diner towards his car. And suddenly, you were really glad the rain has decided to stop for a few hours tonight.

~~~~

I hope you all enjoyed this not so little fic! And as always, any and all feedback is always appreciated. If you’d like to be added to my taglist for 5SOS fics, please let me know!

-Desiree’

Taglist: @crownedbyluke @sweetcherrycal

#5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5sos fanfiction #5sos fluff #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fluff #my words #shout out to the chips for being my entire taglist

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eurusholmmes · 7 years

Text

angel || p.d.

Requested by @valeriariosarevalo

Prompt: Hi!!! I saw that your request are open. Could you do a one-shot/ imagine with Poe in the last Jedi where reader is Leia’s daughter and they’re married and the reader is pregnant and Poe is just really overprotective of her. Thanks?

The only thing I changed about this fic was that it’s not taking place in the Last Jedi. I can’t write fics for this movie yet because I don’t have a solid grasp on the plot, and not everyone has seen it. Come Wednesday, I will begin writing TLJ fics for you guys.

I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS SO BEWARE IT IS INSANELY LONG

I was SO tempted to turn this into a Christmas oneshot.. but why not just go for a crap ton of fluff. I hope you guys enjoy! This is mainly composed of snippets: Ex - First meeting, first date, proposal, marriage.. pregnancy. well, you’ll see.

REMEMBER: Feedback is critical to keep writers writing. Please.. tell me something. Anything goes! I promise I don’t bite!

Age 6

Night had long since fallen upon the Resistance base, and from where you slept in the quarters you shared with your family tightly nestled under a pile of blankets, you slept on. It had been a long day of training with your mother on the schematics of TIE fighters and other cruisers, and as soon as your father had ushered you to bed, you were out like a light.

Your older brother Ben crept along the labyrinth of hallways that lead to the Solo-Organa Quarters. Most of the crew members of the Resistance base were fast asleep in preparations for early shifts, while his mother and uncle were reuniting for the first time since Luke had taken him away for his training to be a Jedi. He was anxious to see his baby sister, but the moment he saw the familiar raven curls of young Poe Dameron, he knew that you’d be more eager to see the son of Kes Dameron then himself.

“Y/n!” He hissed, peering through the door of the familiar quarters to see you tightly nestled into a pile of blankets on the bottom bunk, surrounded by stuffed Wookies and even a makeshift Yoda that Luke had given to you upon your birth. “Force, y/n.. Wake up!”

You shrieked as the pile of blankets was ripped away from you, slowly opening your eyes and grinning widely at the familiar form of your older brother. “Ben!” You cried, extending your arms in greeting to the eldest Solo child as he took you into his embrace. “That was a mean way to wake me up..”

“Well, I thought you’d be interested in knowing that Uncle Luke and I just returned home from the Temple.” He whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, sighing as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The love you felt for him was a constant in his life - A reassurance that someone out there still cared for him. “And when we landed, I may or may not have seen Poe.”

You wrenched yourself out of his grasps and sprinted through the base without a second thought as to how you were most likely going to be punished for getting out of bed, but you didn’t care. As long as you got to see your best friend.

It was Ben’s fault for waking you up anyway.

That day also happened to be the same day where Poe had given you an official nickname. Angel. Whether or not it was because you were pretty or you were in fact Poe Damerons guardian angel, you weren’t sure.

He’d tell you at some point, right?

Age 16

“How am I supposed to just ask her?” Poe wailed dramatically, burying his face in his hands as Leia Organa quietly ate across from him. It was nearing the end of the lunch rounds in the mess-hall, and you had yet to return from your afternoon meditation in what you liked to call The Jedi Temple My Brother Didn’t Burn To The Ground. “This is way too hard!”

“Poe, honey.. You have got to take a chill pill.” Leia coaxed. She knew you as well as she had known Ben, both before and after he had turned, and somewhere deep in her heart Leia knew that you would say yes to his inquiry of a date without a second thought. “You two have been best friends for years. I’ve known for a long time that you love her-”

The statement made him blanch, and Leia couldn’t help but laugh as she stared at the wide eyed, flabbergasted teenage boy. “Love?!” He hissed, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “What-”

“Call it a mother’s intuition, dear one.”

Poe ran a shaking hand through his hair as you finally emerged through the mess-hall doors, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your lightsaber clipped to your tunic as you snatched the bag that your mother always set by the door for when you were late. “Thank my lucky stars, Poe!” You exclaimed, grinning widely when he flashed you that signature smile that never failed to make your heart flutter. With his olive skin and stunning eyes that always seemed to be adoring you from afar, you would’ve been lying if you said you hadn’t developed feelings for your best friend. “Do you wanna see what I was doing during all that time I hid from you?”

He quirked an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him, completely oblivious to the fact that Leia had somehow managed to leave before you had noticed her presence. “I don’t know.” He drawled, smirking as you ripped open the paper bag to reveal her infamous casserole and brownies she always made as a job well done for your success in training with the Force. By yourself. “I always had this suspicion you were off hanging with someone better looking then myself-”

“Sunshine,” You interjected, outstretching a hand before you could control yourself to play with the ends of his curls. Poe felt his breathing hitch in his chest as the laughter died between the two of you, your fingers grazing the side of his face as he found himself visibly frozen by your touch. “There’s no one better looking then you.”

Leave it to him to be completely tongue-tied in front of the Generals daughter.

“Will you go out with me, Angel?”

Needless to say that you ended the day safely tucked in Poe’s X-Wing, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist and face buried in your hair as you were lost amidst a sea of stars.

Age 20

Proposing. It can’t be that hard.. can it? Concoct some sentimental, romantic speech amidst a beautiful setting, kneel on one knee, present a ring. Boom. It was that easy.

So why was Poe in the midst of nearly giving himself a coronary over the thought of proposing to you? He was Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance, and the 4 years running boyfriend of Y/n Organa - The Generals second in command and one of three living Jedi in the entire galaxy.

Force.. He had a serious expectation to live up to. You weren’t just some girl who had crossed his path and only slept with him for sex.. You were y/n. His angel, and the woman he loved more then anything in the entire galaxy.

Lucky enough for him, the base they’d moved to upon her twentieth birthday had just received its first new fallen snow in the time they had been there. It just so happened that Winter was your favorite season, and you nearly went giddy with excitement every single time you came face to face with land blanketed by it.

So of course, he enlisted the help of his most trusted friends from the Black Squadron and set to work on winning your heart with the sappiest proposal ever.

By the time you had emerged from your new training room with Jessika Pava, you were soaked in sweat and grinning so widely she was sure that your face would remain that way. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that you just got the best lay of your-”

“Jessika.” You groaned out of annoyance, completely missing her victory dance as you trudged through the hangar to the halls that interconnected the living quarters. “I’m going to sleep!! Goodnight you-”

“NO!” You gasped as she lunged at you from behind and knocked your lightsaber completely from your grasps, simultaneously knocking the air from your lungs as you collided with the cold floors. “No-I mean, you can’t! You still owe me that drink from Christmas, remember?! When I said that Poe wouldn’t make out with you in front of the entire-”

“In front of the entire base, and he did?” You questioned, gasping as she pried herself away from you and dusted off her Resistance uniform. “My mother had a fit when I got home that night. Said it was unlady like to make out with your boyfriend in front of all his friends.”

“Didn’t she do that with your father a billion times? In front of your Uncle and the Republic’s highest ranking officers?” Your face slowly broke into a vicious grin as you remembered the story that your father Han had finally told you on your sixteenth birthday. You would never forget how hard the two of you had laughed on the couch that night, how it had finally pulled you both out of your grief over losing Ben and Luke.

“Only a billion times. Maybe that’s why my uncle went into hiding and inevitably became a hermit.” You jabbed your thumb into the keypad and gaped at the sight that greeted you in your apartment - or more particularly, the steaming shower and new outfit that hung on the door. “What is this?”

“You’ve got an hour to get ready, Organa! Meet me out here when you’re done!”

After an hour of painstaking work to make yourself look presentable, you slipped on your knee high winter boots despite your confusion and took one last glance in the mirror. If this was Poe’s inconspicuous way of getting you ready for a date, then you had to accompany it by wearing the only lipstick you’d ever seen make a mans knees go weak.

“Jess? Do I get my re-” You huffed a sigh of annoyance at the sight of an empty hallway before your eyes fell on a notecard that had fluttered to the floor upon you opening the door to your quarters. Just as you had suspected, your name was legibly scrawled in what could’ve only been Poes immaculate handwriting. “Oh Dameron.. what have you got planned for me today?”

Dearest Y/n...

What was that favorite poem you used to read to me about two people who fell in love? I think it went a little something like this...

“Two things I’ll forever be sure of. The sun will always fall for the moon, and I will always fall for you.”

Follow the rose petals to the front door of the base, angel. Then meet me outside for the time of your life.

Yours,

Poe

After a trail of rose petals and grinning pilots, you found yourself just outside the front door of the base, gazing upon the winter in all its majesty. Your y/e/c softened at the contrast between the evergreens that made up the forest around you against the snow, shivering beneath your sweater and scarf as you trekked through in hopes of finding your boyfriend.

“There she is!” Poe cried, sprinting towards you with BB8 on his heels; The droid seemed less then pleased that he was having to roll through snow just to appease to his makers wishes. “You look.. Wow. I sure do pick ‘em.” Grinning widely, you lightly kissed his lips before turning to gaze at the frozen lake behind you.

“This place is beautiful.” You whispered, hands resting on his neck as the two of you intently stared into one anothers eyes. “Why have I never been here before?”

Poe inhaled deeply and pried himself away from the familiarity of your body, his trembling hands reaching into his pocket where he’d tucked the velvet box away earlier that morning. “Because it’s never been important until now, y/n.” He replied, grinning as he knelt to one knee and opened it to you. It was a simple yet stunning band, with a sapphire neatly tucked in the center and two diamonds parallel to either side of the gem. “I’ve been thinking about how to do this for months but I was so kriffing afraid-”

You couldn’t help the tears falling down your face at the sight of him. Poe Dameron - Your best friend, your rock, the love of your life kneeling in the snow despite how cold it was; The tip of his nose reddened by the blistering wind, and all for a proposal. “Poe-”

‘’But then I said to myself, who cares? Y/n isn’t fond of big romantic acts, so I’ll settle for being me.” He lifted his eyes to gaze upon your face; Your y/e/c staring so deeply back into his own, hand plastered over your mouth to silence your sobs as you waited for him to continue. “We’ve been best friends since we were kids, and it wasn’t until we were 16 that I finally realized how head over heels I was in love with you. Stubborn, hard headed, grieving y/n Organa who came to me in her most trialing times, and I to her upon the loss of my parents. I knew from the minute you said yes to our first date and how fascinated you were by the stars that I was gonna marry you. My angel..” Poe swept his hand over his face to wipe away the wetness gathering on his cheekbones, cursing under his breath as he saw Leia and Jessika duck behind the nearest tree, camera poised in hand. “I adore you. I adore all of you.. I love you, I am loving you until the day I say farewell or death takes me first. Every inch, every broken piece of your being is craving to be loved... and there’s nothing else I’d rather do for the rest of my life then make you the happiest woman in the galaxy. Y/n Solo-Organa, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Age 22

Unfortunately, the impending war against the First Order kept you from having the wedding that both you and Poe wanted, but you didn’t care. With your mother as your witness, you and Poe Dameron were married within the week of Star Killer Base being destroyed, and life was good. It was peaceful.

It got even better when you found yourself staring at the II signs of your third pregnancy test. Rey had gone off to rescue Luke from the island, you had only just returned from battling your brother alongside the scavenger, and you were exhausted.

But the sight of those two lines, the confirmation that you were indeed carrying Poe Damerons baby, turned your exhaustion into this exhilarating feeling that coursed through your veins until you were sprinting through the base, crying out “Sorry!” every time you nearly crashed into another pilot or staff member.

As your feet skidded to a stop in the back of the hangar, you were greeted with the sight of your husband on his X-Wing performing maintenance work after his latest mission. “Poe!”

BB8 extended his only appendage in his wiring that worked as an arm, pricking his masters skin with an electrical shock to pull him from his trance, followed by a slew of irritable beeps. “Geez!” Poe cried out, lightly smacking the droid as he tightened his grip on the wing. “BB8, can you-” His eyes fell upon you directly beneath him, eagerly rocking on the balls of your feet as you waved the white stick upwards. “Are you-”

“This is my third one, and all three are positive!”

He jumped down from the ship without a second thought, joyous laughter breaking past his lips as you jumped into his arms and hooked your legs around his waist. Rumors had been circulating around the base that you were anticipating the results of a pregnancy test, thus putting you under strict orders from your mother that you were not to do anything until you had a confirmation.

“We-We’re gonna be parents!” Poe cried out, setting you back on the ground and peppering your face with kisses as other pilots awkwardly swerved around you. “Hey-Guess what?” You grinned widely as you clung to his arm, taking note of the pride in his expression as he flaunted his new found fatherhood to his subordinates. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

“The best freakin’ pilot dad the Resistance has ever seen!”

Poes head snapped over to you as his hand subconsciously shifted to your waist, forehead pressing against your own as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “You’re going to be the sexiest Jedi Mama in the galaxy, angel.” He whispered, grinning widely as your eyes lit up at the nickname.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“You better.”

Age 23

And now here you were, less then two months away from the birth of your daughter, and Poe was being more irritating then usual. Despite his reluctance to allow you to collect data on the First Order and manipulate the Force Bond that had been created between you and your brother, you were insistent on doing something other then lounging around all day.

“No!” You snapped angrily, storming out of your quarters as fast as you possibly could and down the hall to the control room where you were sure your mother was waiting for your answer to her inquiry. “I can at least gather data and talk to Kylo, Poe! You don’t.. You don’t know my brother like I do. There is still good in him!”

“He’s a snake! A First Order snake with no good intentions other then saving his own skin!” Poe cast an exasperated glance at Leia as you moved past the other pilots and sat down in her chair, leaning your head backward for her to run her fingers through your hair. “Leia, can you give me a hand here? Your daughter won’t listen to me!”

“She’s got her fathers stubbornness, Dameron. I warned you about this years ago.” Leia winked at your husband before bending her head downward to softly brush her lips against your forehead, sending a wave of ease through your aching body. “Go easy on him y/n.. Your hormones are raging and all he wants to do is keep you safe.”

You exhaled deeply and tilted your head back up to meet the concerned gaze of the man you loved, who then took it upon himself to part your knees and kneel between them. He placed his calloused hands over the growing swell of your stomach before resting his forehead against your baby’s home. “You know all I want to do is keep my girls safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear as he brought his gaze up to meet your own; Y/e/c shining with an unspoken adoration and deeply rooted love for the man you had known your entire life. “Just.. for my sanity, stay near your mother, okay? Be careful when talking to Kylo. He may be Astrids uncle, but we’re not letting him near her until we are sure-”

You pressed your fingers against his lips as the smile died on your face. “You’ve got a galaxy to save, Dameron.” You chided, softly kissing the corner of his mouth. “And just so you know, we’re not naming her Astrid. That’s almost like naming your child after a pet Bantha.”

Poe turned around to gaze at your form as pilots rushed past him to return to their stations, but he didn’t dare move a muscle as he drank you in. Y/n Organa Dameron - His best friend, the mother to his child, the only woman he loved. His angel. You were the most beautiful creation in the galaxy, and he made sure that you knew it every single time he looked at you like nothing else in that moment mattered.

To say you were stunned at his next statement would’ve made you seem like a total sap. “What about Padme?”

You ran your hands over your stomach as you were greeted with a memory - A single picture of a field on Naboo that your mother had shown you so long ago; Where two men and a woman had spent a final summer together before the darkness broke them apart. Anakin Skywalker, Padme Amidala, and Obi Wan Kenobi.

The damned, the brave, and the honorable. It would be a shame not to follow the legacy of the foundation that started your family.

“Padme it is.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #I LOVE MY SUNSHINE HE WAS SO GOOD IN THIS MOVIE #The Last Jedi #no spoilers yet #Star Wars #star wars imagines #star wars oneshots #Kayla Grace writes imagines #this took me over an hour #FEEDBACK WELCOMED!!!

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