#i for one am glad my parents are no longer divorced

[bergoozter]

They're so bad at pretending not to be friends I love it 😭

[fablesrose]

Leverage Rewrite Ch 1 - Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Words: 3054

Summary: We are introduced to y/n Ford and her relationship with Nate through some phone calls. Takes place directly after the Bank Shot Job and goes through most of season 1.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, canon level stuff

A/n: okay, so I may be up over my head on this one, but here it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ringing of my phone snapped me out of my lackluster concentration. I enjoyed freelancing, I really did, but this job was just not coming along like I wanted it to. I couldn’t even drag my eyes off my laptop to see who was calling me. It was always work related though.

“This is y/n Ford, how can I help you?” I made sure to turn on my best chipper voice, though I could tell my perplexed expression didn’t change. 

“Don’t use your customer service voice on me, y/n.” The voice was very familiar and I sighed in relief, turning away from my computer. 

“Oh, hey Nate. I didn’t look at the phone, I thought it was work… How are you doing?”

“That’s alright, I’m doing fine. I saw that you called a little while ago, I’m sorry it took awhile, I was working a job.” He sounded tired, but different than the last few times I had talked to him.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t heard from you for a bit, but a job? I didn’t know you were working again. How has that been going? What are you doing?” 

It was good that he was getting out and doing things again. He had been in a deep rut since he left I.Y.S and got divorced. And of course since Sam… passed. It has only seemed to get worse after that. I have tried to check in with Nate at least every couple months, more frequently when possible. Sometimes he doesn’t get back to me for a while, which seemed to be the case here. I’ve been worried about him, but maybe this will lead him to the up and up.

“Uh, I’m not sure if I can explain what I’m doing right now, birdie. It uh, it's a bit complicated and maybe more dangerous than you would like…” He sighed, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was giving a slight wince at what he said. I smiled, both at hearing him call me the nickname he had given me years ago, as well as his conscientiousness of my feelings. 

“Well, I hope you can tell me about it sometime. Are you happy doing it?”

He thought about it for a minute, “yeah, I am. I get to help people.”

“Are you alone? Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got people.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. I still worry some, but you’re a grown man, you can take care of yourself… or should I say old man?” I smirked, knowing that it would bother him a bit. 

He barked out half a laugh, “I��ll let that one go. I’m glad you worry about me… You know you’re my favorite niece right?”

It was my turn to laugh sarcastically. “I’m your only niece. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Okay.”

I set the phone down after he hung up. Nate practically raised me. My parents died when I was a kid, an accident, and he was the only family I had left… Or the best family I had left. Grandad Jimmy barely counts. Even with my parents around I was always close with Nate, he always had little puzzles to teach me or games to play. I knew it was hard on him, to take care of me, but we had each other, and it got better. We both had to grow up fast, and when Maggie and then Sam came along, it seemed like the world was giving back a little bit. We were a happy family for a while. I graduated, moved out into the real world, and tried to be to Sam what Nate was to me. It all came crashing down. Nate had his own process though. This was worse than when my parents died, understandably, but I knew he was the only one that could work himself out of it. I try to let him. 

My eyes flipped back to my computer from where they were staring at the abandoned phone on the table. I can’t afford to reminisce any longer, I have deadlines to keep.

—---

Across the country, Nate absentmindedly tapped his phone against his knee, thinking. He gingerly moved his right shoulder, trying not to test his stitches too much. The team had just finished up the bank shot job. He knew he needed to take it easy while he healed up from his gunshot wound, but he could feel a slight itch to keep going in the back of his head. To take his mind off of it, he looked back at his phone, thinking of y/n.

He did miss her. Nate knew he had been distant recently and that she worried about him. He felt awful when he thought too hard about it. Here his niece was, worrying about him, a grown man, the one who raised her, who should be worrying about her. It made him want to reach for a drink. The truth was, he didn’t worry about her. Not often anyway. She was every bit of her parents, something Nate was glad for. His older brother was always the better one, he thought. He would have never become… Never become what Nate had, under the circumstances. 

He didn’t know what y/n would think about what Nate was doing now. He didn’t want to leave her in the dark, they had always worked together through Nate’s changing careers and her own progression through life. He also knew that this work was dangerous. Nate winced as the stitches pulled a bit as he shifted. He didn’t want her to worry about him more, or worse, get caught up in it if she didn’t have to. 

Nate went to pour himself a drink before heading back to rest. He set his phone down at his bedside table, looking at it for a moment longer. 

He would find a way to tell her somehow.

—----

It was about a month later when I was getting ready for bed that I got an email to my personal account. I usually don’t check emails this late, but it was from Nate. 

Hey birdie, I know it’s late over there and you probably don’t want to work, but I have this script that I need to make sure is believable for an actress. Do you mind looking over it? 

Attached was a pretty large file. Opening it up showed that it was around ten pages and it held two scenes. He was right, I didn’t want to, but it was Uncle Nate asking a pretty small favor. I read it through and answered.

So… the scenes themselves are decent, good pacing. Leaving the boy orphaned with the nun and mother dying will be sure to pull some tears. But the overall plot? That’s just awful, I’m sorry. Not sure how you fix that. 

It wasn’t too long before I got a reply.

Good enough, thanks. 

I sighed as I finished getting ready for bed. I didn’t know what in the world he was doing anymore, but at least he was still alive. 

I had started to forget about the interaction when a few days later he called.

“Wow, I hear from you twice in one week? What’s the occasion?”

There was a lot of noise in the background indicating he was in a busy place, “Yeah yeah I just… I finished this job and was thinking about you, so I thought I’d call.”

I smiled, “Appreciated… Is that your job, fighting werewolves with NATO troops? Is that why it's so dangerous?”

He groaned, “Please don’t mention the script, I want to wipe that from my memory. It uh,” he paused, thinking and I could hear some background announcements like he was in an airport or train station. “I was able to help some orphans this job, and… I- I’m just glad that you were able to come live with me, that we had each other when. When your dad passed, and mom.”

I took a moment before answering, “Me too Nate…” 

There was a moment of silence when I heard a deeper voice a bit further away from the phone, “Nate, come on, we gotta catch our connection. Last call.”

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

He said a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. It seemed like his new job was exciting, and I was interested in seeing where it took him next… If I could ever figure out what it was. 

I started to look forward to his calls even more now, and they happened more frequently as well. I always speculated what little details he would drop about his most recent adventure, if he shared any at all. One call he talked about a wedding and the fiascos behind it, from a woman he worked with that seemed to peeve him at times to appetizers. He insisted that when I got married (after he asked if I wanted to) that he wouldn’t attend if it was going to be a large crap shoot like the one he was just involved with. I simply laughed, I didn’t interject more than that to ask him about it as he was in a rush and clearly exasperated. 

The next phone call mentioned the same woman, of whom I learned her name was Sophie. I could tell he was still a bit peeved at her, but there was something else there as well, an interest. I smiled to myself as he talked, but didn’t mention it… yet. There were so many other questions I had about what he was doing now. I finally pried a bit more.

“Nate, come on, you’ve got to give me something. What are you doing, what is this job you are working?”

He paused like he knew it was coming, but still not prepared, “I am the lead of a… consulting team. We help people when no one else will, when no one else can.”

“Well that’s very noble of you Nathan. I’m not getting any more than that right now am I?” I laughed a little bit towards the end. 

“Yeah, uh, that is it for now. I’ll tell you more about it some other time.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

The next call was not as cheerful or exciting as the previous ones. I was already coming down with a cold, and another project had hit a standstill because of the lack of cooperation of people within the client’s company. Much more of this and I would back out of the contract. Luckily my contract states that I will get paid for the work completed, not necessarily at completion, and if I have to cancel a contract due to certain circumstances such as lack of cooperation, I get to keep funds in relation to work completed as well as the deposit. In other words, it would be their loss. 

I could feel I was developing a headache, but I answered the phone anyway, “Hello?”

“Heyy, how’s it going? I um… I can’t remember why I called…” There was a slight slur in his voice that I immediately picked up on.

“Nate? Are you drunk right now?” I asked accusingly, my headache getting worse. 

“What? No… what time is it… maybe.”

I groaned, “Damn it… You said you were getting better. You said you would quit!”

“Hey, I never said that-”

“Am I gonna have to kick your ass to keep you around?”

There was a pause on the other end, “No, Eliot can do that, he said he would keep me in line if he had to.”

“Well…” I took a moment to collect my thoughts, “I don’t know who this Eliot character is, but hopefully he’s good on his word, cuz I don’t want to fly all the way out there for that. I’d rather you stick around for a while.”

“I know.”

I sighed knowing I wouldn’t get much farther with him right now, “Well, sober up a bit. I can’t handle much more right now Nate, I’m getting sick. We both better go get some rest.”

“You’re sick? I’ll ask around for some recipes to help you feel better.”

Before I could stop him and tell him don’t bother, he hung up. I sighed again, stopping to get my bearings before starting the trek to the bathroom to take some medicine. 

I had grown a bit lax on Nate with his drinking. I made sure he didn’t drink himself to death after Sam’s death and the divorce, but once he made it to somewhat functioning, I just grew tired. There wasn’t much else I could do, so I figured he could sort himself out when he needed to. That seemed to be the case over the last couple of months. I could tell in his phone calls as they became more frequent that he was drinking less and getting better. I had exaggerated a bit when I said he promised me he would quit. I wish I had made him promise, but I guess it was just a conversation and some hope on my end. 

I didn’t know the rest of his team, but I hoped they could help him, or at least keep him on this side of life. Or that he had someone to rely on out there. I felt useless here in Boston while he was out in LA. Maybe I should have moved out there when his life had gone down hill, despite his protests. I could theoretically work anywhere. 

I started to slip into sleep as I thought about it. I didn’t fight it.

The next morning I woke up to an email on my phone.

Hey, I’m sorry I called you while drunk. Eliot gave me some soup recipes, hopefully they will help with the cold. Feel better birdie.

Below were the recipes promised. I looked them over, and they all looked really good, and relatively simple to make. This was good as I could feel the congestion in my head was worse than the night before and knew simple would be essential to any new meal the next couple of days. I’d like to meet this Eliot someday. 

—---

Over a month later Nate sat in his chair, staring at the drink in his hand reflecting back to the last phone call he had with y/n. He was drunk, and she was clearly upset at him. He hated to admit it, but, while he didn’t want to worry her, he should have felt more guilty about it. For that reason he hasn’t talked to her since he sent that email with Eliot’s recipes. 

What an unfortunate coincidence it was when he had to go into rehab with the mark for the next job. His mind kept going back to the group session they had with Sophie talking about the healing power of apologies, or something like that. She asked him if there was anyone he wanted to apologize to for burdening with his drinking problem, highly suggesting to him that he apologize to her and the team. What really got him was when she mouthed the words “like your niece?” 

Maybe that’s why he blew up a little. He didn’t need her to be brought up. The fact that Sophie knew so much about him unnerved him sometimes. He thought he kept her underwraps, out of whatever mess Nate found himself in. He obviously needs to brush up on those skills.

—---

I got a somewhat urgent call from Nate, the first one since he called me drunk that night. I was gearing up for a serious talk about his drinking, boundaries, and whatnot. This did not seem to be the case. 

“You’ve done mock trials before right?”

That stopped me in my tracks, “in highschool? Yeah, but that was a long time ago, what is going on?”

He explained that he was in a similar situation with him and his team. The plaintiff was a widow whose husband died from taking an energy supplement. She was suing the supplement company, but was not doing well.

“How would you win for this widow?”

I took a moment to think it over, “I mean… You have your three persuasive techniques, logical, emotional, and reputation, to paraphrase. You can either tear down the company and their arguments on these fronts and slash or build up your own. I don’t know all the data behind the supplement or if you have health records for the husband before and after the supplement, but that could help. If you want to go the dirty route you can tear down the credibility of the company and their witnesses and experts…” I hummed and hawed for a bit, still thinking. “Also considering, if this is a jury trial, play into the emotional side, get their sympathy, show that it is someone’s fault that this husband, father? Is he a father? You know, etc etc. Just keep with the triangle, logic, emotion, and credibility. Not sure what else to give you without more research or context.”

I heard a distant voice that said, “That just might work,” suggesting to me that I was on speaker phone. 

Nate talked to this other guy, “see, just put on your bowtie and talk to them like you’ve been doing your whole life.” He turned back to the phone and spoke to me, “That’s perfect, thank you, bye.”

He hung up and I just stared at the phone in my hand. What kind of consulting business is this?

I got a call I wasn’t expecting one day from someone I haven’t heard from in a long time. 

“Hey y/n, how have you been?”

“Maggie? I’ve been fine, just working freelancing… What’s up?” While she and Nate have been divorced for a couple of years now, she still played a role in my life as an aunt. We definitely drifted apart, but I thought we were both dear to each other. 

“That’s good, I’m glad you’ve been doing okay. I do have a favor to ask you though.”

“Okay… What is it?”

“I’d imagine it’s been a while since either of us have gone to a fancy party… What do you say?”

I hated to say it, but she was right. “Tell me when and where.”

[forabeatofadrum]

Just Some Guy (8/9)

Notes: Folks, we've made it. We are at the end. It is Matty Chris D.'s final year at Watford and boy OH BOY.

But it is not the end. There is an epilogue. I'll save potential word vomit for that chapter.

AO3

–

Year 8

MATT

The 8th year is optional, but me and my friends all return for it. What else will we do?

Someone who doesn’t return is Baz Pitch.

The rumour mill is insane, but honestly, what is everyone’s deal? I heard Trixie say that Baz’s probably off to Ibiza, and that’s the most plausible one.

I know that maybe I should be worried that he’s hurt, or that the civil war is about to happen, but I am just fucking grateful that I won’t be caught between him and Simon Snow again. It��s my last year. Please, let me get through this in peace.

And I truly believe he is just chilling in Ibiza. All the other rumours are just way too wild. Maybe the dude just wanted a longer vacation. Who can blame him? I hope he has fun in Ibiza and maybe stays there for longer so that it will finally be quiet in class.

This year is already pretty exciting, because the Veil has lifted. My family isn’t expecting anyone, although I admit I hope that one of my grandparents will come back through the Veil to smack either or both of my parents for their divorce.

A guy can dream, eh?

--

I can’t believe I am doing this. I am skipping class to take Leslie birdwatching around the grounds. John is once again the true MVP here. He’s given me an overview of when there aren’t any teachers around. He needs to know that for his job and I need to know it to take my girl on a date.

This is the most exciting thing I’ve done in my entire time at Watford, and I went to America!

We’re going to look at fertile doves. If you are in their presence, you will be under a light love spell, as in, it will heighten your feelings for the other. It’s going to be so romantic!

These birds only fly around this era of England around October, so it’s now or never. Leslie and I hold hands as we walk around the grounds, and I am so glad I get to share this with her. Why would I go to Magic Words is I can do this?

I hand Leslie my magickal binoculars. She watches the gorgeous fertile doves and I tell her all the facts I know about them. There are five of them and they’re taking a well-deserved break from their trek. They’re sat on some tree branches and it’s perfect. You can perfectly see the colours of their feathers and the plums on their heads.

“This is lovely, Matt,” Leslie has a smile on her face. I cannot see her eyes, since she’s holding the binoculars in front of them, but I imagine that smile reaches her eyes.

The love spell is working. I too am overcome with adoration for Leslie. I do a happy dance while she’s focused on the birds.

“Here,” she hands me the binoculars after a while.

I assume my smile is as big as hers and I look at the birds. I think they’re about to take off. But then, suddenly, out of nowhere, all five of them go stiff and fall off the branches. Their eyes are still open and some have their beaks open as well. It’s as if they just got frozen in time.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I lower my binoculars and look over my shoulder.

Leslie stares at the five birds in shock. She looks haunted.

“Matt? Are they supposed to do that?” she asks, her voice waivers.

I shake my head. No, that’s definitely not what is supposed to happen. The two of us stare at the unmoving birds for a few minutes before realising something really is wrong. Leslie slowly walks towards the birds and pokes one of them.

“Matt… I think… I think they’re dead.”

She casts a Death doesn’t discriminate to make sure and the birds indeed give off a red aura, indicating they’re capital D Dead. I also walk towards the birds and yes, they truly are lifeless.

What. The. Fuck?

“Leslie, what…” I trail off. What can I say? These beautiful beings just dropped dead right in front of us for no reason.

Leslie walks away from me, but she returns with flowers. The two of them place them around the birds as a sign of respect. That’s all we can do. Soon, someone working on the grounds will find them and hopefully preserve them.

Well.

Our date just got fucked. I hope this isn’t an omen for our future. The birds that symbolise love just dropped dead in front of us. This was not the romantic outing I had hoped for.

By now, the Magic Words class has ended. It’s the last class of the day, so we walk to the Dining Hall, knowing our friends go there to study.

When we see them, they all seem exhausted.

“Hey, how was your date?” John asks.

I shake my head. I can’t talk about it.

“How was Magic Words?” Leslie says, trying to stay calm, “Bet we didn’t miss much.”

“Oh, you did,” Scott bemoans, “The Humdrum attacked.”

“What?” Leslie exclaims.

“That bastard sent flibbertigibbents!” Luis sounds aghast, as if he questions the Humdrum’s audacity, “Fucking pests.”

“The Chosen One saved us all, of course,” Sam sighs, “He cast Dead in the air and it worked like a charm.”

I know I should be grateful that Simon Snow saved my friends. Flibbertigibbents can be dangerous in big numbers. They drive mages mad. But my mind immediately connects the dots. Simon fucking Snow probably killed the fertile doves and ruined my date!

At moments like this, I wish I were fucking Normal.

--

Baz Pitch comes back somewhere after Halloween. I guess his trip to Ibiza took longer than expected. Both Simon Snow and Agatha Wellbelove make such a show of it. Baz, entering the Dining Hall in grand fashion, and Simon, his nemesis, and Agatha, his… classmate, standing up. It’s an ordeal. I turn back to my scones and tea.

One person who’s also glad to see Baz is Sam of all people.

“What?” Sam says, “I have eyes. Baz Pitch might be an elitist arsehole, but man, he’s fine.”

“Really, Sam?” Ryan asks, surprised.

I scoff.

I’m not gay or anything (or so I think), but I don’t think Baz Pitch is that attractive.

“You could so much better,” Arnold also says, “Baz Pitch has this weird dead looking grey skin.”

“And eyes that stare into your soul,” Scott adds.

“And the slicked back hair makes him look like a posh git,” Luis also says, although Baz Pitch is already a posh git.

“Jeez, alright, guys, I get it. Baz Pitch isn’t hot,” Sam laments.

“Whatever. I hear he’s into Agatha Wellbelove, like every straight guy,” Leslie says, “And Agatha might be into him.”

I jerk my head towards her.

“What?”

I might no longer be into Agatha. After all, why would I when I am happy with Leslie? But why would Agatha be into him?

“Dee overheard Simon and Penelope talk about it. So don’t quote me on it.”

I groan. Really? Does that mean that classes will be even more insufferable than usual? I don’t need Simon Snow and Baz Pitch disrupting every class to fight with each other over a girl.

--

There apparently was a dragon attack and Simon Snow and Baz Pitch saved the school?

Look, I was in my room, listening to loud music through my headphones and eating ice cream, because Leslie and I had a fight. This time, John didn’t tell me to go outside, so I completely missed it.

But I’m now walking towards the Cloisters in order to make up with my girlfriend, and everyone’s talking about it.

I look around and I don’t see any damage, so I suppose I didn’t miss anything important. Fine. Let me save my relationship in peace and quiet.

Later, John wants to fill me in about the dragon attack but I shoo him away. Leslie and I made up, so I really don’t give a shit.

--

I sometimes seem to live under a rock. So does my dad. After Christmas Eve at my mum’s, I joined my dad in the countryside, and we just… didn’t learn about the Humdrum’s defeat till five days after it actually happened. In our defence, we decided to do an off-the-grid holiday. No phones. No internet. Just me, my dad and the dog he recently adopted since he’s lonely.

So when I see all the missed calls on the 29th, I wonder who the fuck died.

The Mage, apparently.

The day after, John and Leslie come to visit to tell me and my dad everything. It’s very kind of them, since it’s quite a trip. (I think.) (Where does John actually live? I’ve known him for eight years, but I’ve never been to his house. He always comes to me.)

But, well, the world goes on, even though the leader just got killed by his heir. Some believed that the Mage’s death would change everything, but that didn’t happen. The Coven reconvened and decided that there’s no need for one glorious leader.

Besides, more information about the Mage resurfaces. It isn’t pretty. He apparently killed Natasha Grimm-Pitch and mages are currently trying to mend the relations between the creatures he unfairly targeted.

The Old Families have retreated.

The world just changed in a big way, and I don’t notice a single thing. My life goes on as usual. I go to Watford, I play chess, I kiss Leslie, work for Miss Possibelf and hang out with my friends. It’s as if this war never happened.

It’s all so… normal. Not Normal, just normal.

I mean, it’s a good thing the Humdrum is gone, I guess, but apart from the annoying attacks, I barely noticed anything of the Humdrum in the first place. I’m just some guy.

Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce and Agatha Wellbelove didn’t return after the holidays. Baz Pitch did, but no one really knows what to do with him after everything. Turns out he, Simon and Penny have been working together since he came back from Ibiza. It’s quiet in classes without Baz picking fights, or Penelope’s opinions on everything. Sometimes people ask Baz how Simon’s doing, but he refuses to answer. It looks like he wants to protect Simon.

Maybe that’s the most mind-blowing thing of all of this. Simon Snow and Baz Pitch, cooperating?

But hey, I didn’t keep track of Simon Snow’s Chosen One antics before. I am not starting now. I need to graduate! I have better things to focus on.

I mean, his trial is big news and hard to miss. I decide I am glad that he and Penelope don’t get charged. But the Chosen One’s story is over, and I, for one, am fucking glad.

--

My last day is woefully uninteresting. My dad comes over to help me pack my stuff. Then my mum joins us for the leaving ceremony. Baz Pitch is on top of our class and he gives a touching speech. I assume. I didn’t hear him over his messy aunt’s blubbering.

We have a somewhat awkward celebration dinner with Leslie’s parents and after that, Leslie and I hurry away to get ready for the leavers ball.

The leavers ball is… fine. The real treasure of Watford is the friends I made along the way. Oh, and my diploma, I suppose. John, Leslie, Scott, Arnold, Luis, Sam and I laugh and reminisce over our time here. We talk about how this is the end.

“Not really,” John says, “There’s the epilogue after this.”

“Sure,” Luis just says.

We talk about all the times Scott flipped the chess board, or how Luis and Leslie got us all into football, or the fact that John always knows everything, and so on. The memories keep coming and they don’t stop coming.

But at one point, I want to have some time with my girlfriend.

“May I have this dance?” I ask and hold out my hand.

Leslie pretends to swoon.

“So romantic,” she says with a smile.

We slow dance and whisper sweet nothings. Her hands are on my upper arms. At one point, she pinches me.

“What?” I ask.

Leslie is staring at something behind me.

“What?” I ask again.

“Baz Pitch… and Simon Snow… are slow dancing.”

She spins us around, so that I can see it for myself and I am glad I did, or otherwise I wouldn’t have believed her. It’s really true. Simon Snow and Baz Pitch are chest to chest. One of Simon’s hands is on Baz’s shoulder. The other is in Baz’s hand. Baz has his other hand against Simon’s back holding… a tail? (I heard rumours of Simon Snow giving himself dragon wings and a tail, but I always dismissed them.) (So, they’re partially true?) (I mean, I don’t see wings.)

“What… are they doing?” I say to Leslie.

“Dancing,” Leslie answers, albeit in a confused tone, “But… why?”

We’re not the only ones that are confused. People are obviously staring. Everyone is as confused as us.

Are they together? No, it can’t be. I know that their rivalry mellowed when Baz came back from Ibiza, but… what? Besides, even though we can’t hear what they’re saying, they both seem upset and frustrated. Damn, did they just find a new covert way to emotionally destroy each other in public? Do they no longer want to pull focus to their fights?

And isn’t Simon still dating Agatha? They are the World of Mages’s most well-known couple!

But then Simon starts kissing Baz sloppily and I am so baffled I forget to move my feet and Leslie slips. I should help her, but I can’t stop looking. It truly is the messiest, sloppiest kiss I have ever seen in public and I am openly gaping.

I’m not the only one. People all around the courtyard are in a state of shock.

“Matt!” Leslie exclaims, making me snap out of it.

Right.

“Sorry,” I help her up.

“That’s enough dancing for now,” she sighs and walks back to our friends. I follow her with my (definitely metaphorical) tail between my legs.

Our friends are talking about Simon and Baz. I assume everyone is.

“Well, Sam, our hearts are broken,” Ryan bemoans.

“We’re all seeing this, right?” Luis asks, eyes wide.

“But… they hate each other,” I say. I can’t believe this. They spent the past 7 years making every class fucking unbearable, and how they’re dating?

Really, what the fuck? Did we all suffer for nothing?

The audacity!

John must notice I am annoyed, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“That, Matty Chris D., is what we call a well-executed enemies to lovers,” he raises his glass towards Simon and Baz, “Man, Jack and Bitty can’t even hold a candle to them.”

“Who?” I ask, but John just waves my question away.

I look over to Simon and Baz again. Simon says something to Baz. Baz nods. They stop dancing and walk away, hand-in-hand.

This is real.

What the fuck?

But as confused as I am, I must admit that I feel happy for them. I mean, I am still incredibly confused, but this is a good thing. I watch them leave the ball, which makes sense, considering it’s a bit of a snooze-fest, and I decide that they must’ve worked through a lot of shit to get here.

Before they’re out of my sight, I see that Simon says something to Baz and his face is beaming with happiness.

Yes, I am glad for them. I hope I never see them again after today, but I wish them the best. I mean, now seeing them as this ordinary lovey-dovey couple, I realise they’re not that special.

After all, they’re just some guys.

--

End notes: The sentence "After all, they're just some guys" is one of the first things I wrote for this fic, back in 2022. And here we are. *happy sigh*

Also, thanks again to @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for brainstorming magickal birds!

[stevie-petey]

hiiiiiii m! read s2 ep2 and i LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!! <3 i actually am so relieved that steve reader friend divorce era is over......idk why but friendship breakups make me sadder than actual romantic breakups, partly because friendships themselves are so selfless and sort of by design the least selfish, or self interested you can be, with the benefit just being "we get to hang out!". i'm fascinated that steve forgave her so quickly as well, maybe because he's in a vulnerable spot right now (???), but i really did enjoy that reader was willing to make amends instead of sort of just digging an emotional hole for herself and exaccerbating the problem. i'm excited to see if she'll be as proactive down the line when things get more serious between them.

the way you handle nancy is interesting. i'm glad you don't shy away from reader being jealous of nancy and the attention of johnathan and steve and being pretty and rich, which omg, can drive full grown adults crazy, so why wouldn't a teen girl feel it, but also see nancy as like a full person? i also really appreciate your/reader's willingness to see both sides of the conflict, at least so far. a lot of people, from what i've seen, seem to view that night as a very traumatic night for steve where he got his heart broken, and that's true! it is! but it's also a night where nancy got blackout drunk from survivor's guilt that everyone around her told her to ignore in favour of just forgetting everything she experienced. that would make anyone upset! she probably does feel like her relationship is bs if it's main priority is not allowing her best friend's parents to find peace and move on! anyways, what i'm saying is that it's nice to have a realistic yet emotionally mature main character, and one who is so because they themselves are emotional and very in tune and self aware of them and others, instead of for just like, the plot vaguely, or because of modern sensibilities, no it's just an established and consistent part of her character, which is hard to do and it's so cool that you do it so well near constantly!

but i really was cheesing a lot like it just felt like a classic early 2000s CW show which is the high i'm constantly chasing. one tree hill season 1 episode i think 13 college party was very much the vibe i was getting. i should have been wearing cheetah print and leather and listening to the strokes as my friends convinced me that local basketball player was really the only guy who ~gets~ me. "i'll be" by edwin mccain plays in the background as we make eyecontact from across the room. you set the vibe, is what i'm trying to say.

billy was weirdo and creep and i'm happy he was acknowledged as such!!! not kidding when he came up to the reader i was also uncomfortable and it just had that very deeply horrible frat guy energy that makes every person subjected to it feel very objectified, and i think it's even more interesting that this is, from what i remember, one of the first time someone's shown outright interest in her, so i can imagine that that makes it even worse. i also sort of like the set up of johnathan defending her and steve holding him back, feels very much a great physical example of their position so far, with both johnathan playing a larger role in her life, as well as maybe signalling that johnathan's role as her protector, friend, confidant, all that is now passing onto steve's "hands", as steve's quite literally holding him. idk if that's too much i just had fun! and steve's final thoughts. my god. what an oblivious young man. the immediate jealousy and awe he feels.....his willingness to forgive....her promise to him as he confesses........both very moving and also amazed he hasn't realised his own feelings yet and excited that it will take him longer to do so. them making the promise together especially was so good, and such a good parallel to the one she and johnathan made in s1, and i'm excited to see if steve and r are able to uphold it better than johnathan was and how it'll serve to highlight the differences in their relationship.

very lengthy so my apologies, have a nice day and looking forward to ur next chapter!

hi angel !!

u touched on something SO BIG and i loooove discussing it: steve forgave reader so easily. and YES it was a bit ??? but later itll make sense. overall weve seen that steve just so genuinely trusts readers intentions with him, he never doubts her honesty and hes been pulled towards her since day 1, so of course he immediately was like “oh yeah we can be bffs again <3”. HOWEVER ,,,, this will play a huuuge role later (next chapter i believe). we’ll get more insight and steves vulnerability that night also def helped

and nancy !!! yes !!! i had to rewatch her scene with steve in the library a million times and i just felt horrible for them both. they want to help each other, and as ive said before about jonathan and reader, steve and nancy take care of people in opposite ways and it makes them clash. nancy wants to be proactive, steve wants to be more on the down low and tend to those he has already. hes accepted and moved on, nancy has moved on but hasnt accepted.

and as for the jonathan n steve scene i originally had jonathan holding steve back, but honestly it didnt feel right. jonathan, as much as he sucks sometimes, will ALWAYS be the first to defend y/n. every time he will. steve will too, but jonathan has that spot rn and hed rather die than let her get hurt </3

as for billy ,,,, so incredibly excited to flesh out his dynamic with reader. it wont be romantic in the slightest, but reader will have some insight into billys homelife due to max, and u bet she’ll use it against billy.

and im SO HAPPY the party scene felt real <333 thank u for the lovely asks i adore dissecting my chapters with yall its my <3333

[cleoselene]

my mother - who is 74 - walks a neighbor's dog twice a day to make some money. No it's not a difficult job, but still. She is 74 and had planned all her life to be very much retired right now , but she ended up with one very sick kid (me) and one shithead kid (my brother) who strained her finances -- me by her needing to help me with housing (she took out a mortgage on her place to help me get my condo. My roommates and I pay rent to her and never miss a payment but with HOA fees and insurance constantly going up in Hurricaneland, and both me and roommates on fixed Social Security incomes, the ends don't exactly meet) and my brother by being a fucking asshole loser who refused to have a fucking job.

The man has three kids, two who are still minors, and he REFUSES to work. This is one of many reasons he is divorced (of course, his ex-wife cheated on him literally hundreds of times, so there's that mess too, but that's another story), because my ex-SIL got sick of him never having a fucking job. Once the divorce was final and he didn't have his wife supporting him, he turned to the only other woman he could rely on to pay his way: his mother. My mom didn't want to pay his rent every fucking month for three years, but she loves her grandchildren, and she wanted them to have a father.

Because her children didn't have a father. My dad dipped out when I was ten because he was a drug addict. My mom lives with that guilt all the time, always apologizing to me for not giving me a better father -- as if that's her fucking fault! She was a rock star of a mom! A single parent, a social worker who didn't have much money but her work genuinely made the world a better place. But she feels awful that her kids' father ditched out on us. And my brother knows she feels awful about it. And he exploited that. For literally years. She went from comfortably retired to now having a lot of credit card debt because she paid his rent for 3 years.

When she finally put her foot down as his lease ended and she was no longer a cosigner, he moved in with his girlfriend in Manhattan. She is 23. He is 48. Yeah, it's disgusting. He is leeching off her now. He is also not talking to my mom since she's not paying his way anymore (I mean, she IS paying for his fucking iPhone, though, more on that in a moment).

So. Christmas. She hasn't heard a word from him. She hears some news from my ex-SIL that the kids are going to fly up to NYC to spend a few days with him, which, as much of an asshole as he is, she is glad for, because she wants her grandchildren to have a father. But he hasn't called to wish her a Merry Christmas

So I mentioned her part-time job. For the former congressman whose dog she walks. Lovely, sweet people. They gave her a couple of gifts and a $50 Christmas bonus. Mom sent that $50 to my brother as a gift. He did not acknowledge it or even say thank you.

I am OUTRAGED on her behalf, honestly. She has done nothing to deserve being treated this way by him. And I am depressed that I am stuck being a sick kid who is also a drain. I was supposed to get a PhD and take care of her! Failing being able to make it rain for mom I just wrote her a sappy long facebook message telling her how she's the best ever, but god. Why is my brother such an asshole?

She told me yesterday that when I visit next she wants to go through her will and redo it. She wants to give him a token amount, a few grand, and reassign the rest of what she would have given him in her estate to his kids. It's unfortunate, but it is what it is. She deserves better. :/

[the-whispers-of-death]

Reunited with Family

Now that Kali and the rest of The Lions had been reunited, Commander Graves thought it was best to reunite Sarabi, Simba, and Nala with their families who thought they were dead. So he arranged it for them to meet their families in a safe house, each in a separate room to wait for their families.

Sarabi stood in the empty bedroom, his posture rigid as he waited. His family member that was coming was his husband, since he had drifted apart from his three siblings and his parents when he had enlisted in the Marines as they hadn't been happy about his decision to enlist. So all he had was his husband and people thought they were a happy, solid couple.

Oh how wrong they were.

His husband, Kevin, had been an old friend from high school before they had married. They had stayed in contact after graduation, Kevin often venting about his family wanting him to marry while Sarabi was just glad that someone from before the Marine Corps wanted to stay in touch with him. But that was all they were; friends.

One night, five years ago, Sarabi had been in LA during leave to visit Simba and his son who had been five at the time and Kevin had been in the area for a business trip. So they had gone out together for drinks to catch up, Kevin ranting to Sarabi about how his family was still pushing him to marry and they had just kept drinking drink after drink. Sarabi remembered waking up the next afternoon in Las Vegas. Nevada and them both in a honeymoon suite, having just gotten married while drunk.

He had thought they would've just gotten divorced when Kevin woke up shortly afterwards, but apparently in their drunk stupor, Kevin had also texted his family that he was married to Sarabi. And since his family had only cared about him getting married, they were ecstatic. Enough so that Kevin begged Sarabi not to file for a divorce, convinced him to stay in the marriage and pretend they were in love.

So Sarabi stayed in the marriage, foolishly hoping that maybe their love would turn romantic and would no longer be pretend. Only for Kevin to shut the door in his face several times, literally. There were only four times Sarabi and Kevin had slept in the same bedroom together since getting married, and each time was because Kevin's family had come over to visit and stay the night.

So unlike the other married soldier in the squad, Nala, he was used to sleeping in a bed all alone whether it was due being on deployment or because Kevin didn't want anything to do with him romantically.

But maybe that could change, Sarabi told himself as he caught himself slouching slightly as he waited. Maybe Kevin thinking he was dead had changed the way Kevin saw Sarabi. Perhaps this was the fresh start they needed.

Minutes ticked by and Sarabi heard Simba and Nala's family walk into the safe house and past his door to get Simba and Nala, but there was no Kevin. He kept waiting until a Shadow opened the door and his heart dropped to his stomach, knowing what it meant.

Kevin hadn't come.

The Shadow gave him a letter before leaving him to read it in privacy. Sarabi opened the envelope and took out the letter, reading Kevin's words.

Dear Ivan,

I'm glad to hear you're alive, truly I am. I may not have been emotionally present in our marriage, but I had never wanted to bury your empty coffin. You're my best friend, Ivan, that will never change. But I cannot come to visit you.

Your "death" has finally given me the freedom to date who I want without my family judging me since I'm now technically a widower. I can get married to the man who has had my heart for three years. Your words in your will, giving me permission to move on if you were dead, has given me the chance to do just that. Now I can openly date him without being labeled a cheater since you and I had been married.

I know it's not fair and forgive me, old friend, but I have one more favor to ask of you. Your CO told me in addition to you being alive, you and the rest of The Lions are looking to vacate the judgement that you're dead and I'm begging you not to do so. If word comes out to my family that you're alive, then we'd be expected to still be married. I've never felt so alive than in this past year. Stay legally dead, please.

Sincerely,

Kevin

Sarabi stood in the empty bedroom, clutching the letter tight in his hands. He was completely still, just rereading the words over and over again, hoping they'd change.

They weren't changing.

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

Nala usually was composed, priding himself of not outwardly being excited usually. But now he was rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited. Granted, it had been a year since he saw his wife, Madison, and his twin daughters, Amelia and Sarah. They were his world, the three of them.

He and Madison had been high school sweethearts, but then they had broken up when he had enlisted in the Marine Corps. During their time apart, they had both dated around, thinking their love had only been young love. Until they met again when they were twenty-six, the two of them having come home to their hometown to visit their parents. They were staying in the same hotel and had been chatting together until they ended up spending the night together. A night that had been passionate enough to lead to Madison becoming pregnant.

The pregnancy had revived their love and strengthened it, the two marrying four months into Madison's pregnancy. Despite their rather unconventional way of getting married, they stayed marrying due to healthy communication. They talked it out no matter the obstacle, even when they were both tired.

It had led to them being so happy, with their two daughters. Amelia and Sarah were the best of the both of them. They had Nala's composure and Madison's love of nature. He was so excited to see them. He was holding two stuffed animals that he had stitched himself, birthday presents since hadn't been there for their sixth birthday last year.

Nala snapped out of his reminiscing when the door to the bedroom he was in opened, him first hearing his beautiful girls squeal before he saw them. It was like a burst of sunlight, watching them run in to hug him.

"My darling girls!" he cried out as they ran to him, Nala crouching to wrap them both in his arms. He easily stood up with them in his arms.

His girls, they were in his arms again. He had missed them so much, missed twirling Amelia's curly hair around with his finger, hearing Sarah info-dump about her favorite cartoon. They were here, he was alive and with them.

"Peter," Madison murmured in awe, causing him to look at her.

His beautiful wife, standing at five-feet-four inches and having skin that was the color of the night sky, a deep ebony black. Her curly black hair was like their daughters', down and directed outwards like a halo around her head. She looked so breathtaking, just as Nala remembered, her brown eyes shining with happiness.

She was a goddess in his eyes, divine in the way only she could be.

And so Nala could help himself, he set his daughters down and ran to his wife. He picked her up and twirled around with her in his arms, laughing happily at the sigh of her. "Madison, my love. I've missed you so much! You and the girls, you were the only thing keeping me alive," he said softly, his voice full of love.

As he set her down, Madison reached up and cradled the left side of his face, never one to shy away from touching where his scar was. "We've missed you too, Peter. God, we've missed you so much." She leaned in and gave him the sweetest, most loving kiss he had ever gotten. "I spent so many nights praying that you were alive, and my prayers were answered. Praise God."

Nala smiled, leaning in to gently rub their noses together. "I'm alive, my love." He then turned to his daughters, crouching to get down to their eye-level. "Papa missed your birthday and he's very sorry about that, but he made you your presents."

Sarah lit up at that, moving closer to hang onto her father's arm. "Presents, Papa?" she asked, excited to not only have her father back but also to get a present.

"Presents, my sweet girl. One for you and one for your sister, your favorite animals," Nala replied, giving her the raven stuffed animal before giving Amelia the horse stuffed animal.

His heart swelled with joy at their bright smiles and "thank you"s at the presents. He brought all three of them, his daughters and his wife, into a hug, reveling in the way they all felt in his arms. There were toys in the bedroom so he let them go so his daughter could play while he and Madison talked.

"Are they going through the legal process to undo the ruling which declared you dead?" Madison asked, her voice hushed as the two adults stood in the corner.

"They are, my love," Peter told her, keeping a hand on her to remind himself that she really was there. "It might take several months, maybe year. But the hope is that the judge will undo the ruling. For now, our CO's legal team is working on getting our transfers from the Marine Corps to this private military company gets approved so we're not labeled as MIA or deserters."

Madison nodded and listened to what her husband had to say. She then told him about his mother and sisters, talking about how they were doing. His sisters had wanted to come but they couldn't get time off work and his mother wasn't in any condition to make the trip.

After their talk, they joined their daughters and sat down on the floor to play with them. She was watching Nala laugh with their daughters and she smiled.

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you too, Madison. To the moon and back."

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

Simba could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for his ex-husband and their son to come through the door of the bedroom he was waiting in. He was never good at being patient, especially when it came to his son, Ashton. He was so excited that he was gripping the mystery book he had gotten Ashton as a belated tenth birthday gift.

Simba was a trans man and hadn't transitioned until after Ashton was born, having gotten pregnant when he was eighteen after attending a party celebrating his class graduating high school. He and Ashton's father, Tim, had married when they found out he was pregnant with Ashton and had stayed together until Ashton was five, the two divorcing because they weren't really in love with each other. Despite that, they managed to co-parent well, Tim having full custody of Ashton due to how much Simba was deployed, but they made it work still.

And now he was finally seeing his son again. It had been so long, but Simba had no doubt they'd get through it as a family. They always had, no matter what happened. They came out stronger each time.

Ashton was the first to walk through the bedroom door, the father and son both having matching smiles as he ran to hug Simba. "Dad!"

Simba almost dropped the book in his hands in his haste to meet Ashton halfway by running up to him. "Ash, my boy!" he said happily as he took his son in his arms. He gave him a squeeze, holding him in his arms before stepping back to look at his son. "You grew taller!"

Ashton had Tim's pale skin, being mixed, but he had Simba's brown eyes and black curly hair. He seemed to also have Simba's tall height as he was a little taller than the average ten year old boy.

"I missed you so much, Dad," the boy said, going in for another hug.

"He wasn't the only one who missed you," Tim said, smiling as he entered the bedroom and closed the door.

Simba's ex-husband was average height at five-foot-eight and while Ashton had black hair and brown eyes, Tim had hazel-green eyes and brown hair.

"Nathan, you're a sight for sore eyes." Tim walked over, setting his hand on Simba's shoulder.

Simba chuckled, letting go of Ashton and hugging Tim. "It's good to see you both. I'd say thank you for taking care of Ashton, but that's our job as fathers."

Tim laughed as well and nodded. "You're right about that. Oh, and I know you're beating yourself up for not making it to Ashton's tenth birthday, but I'm sure he forgives you. And if it makes you feel better, he still had a wonderful birthday, even if it was a bit somber without you there."

"Speaking of birthdays," Simba said, turning to his son. "I have a present for you, because even though I wasn't there, I still got you a birthday present."

"Is this a mystery novel from my favorite author?" Ashton asked with a gasp as he took the book from his father. He was positively glowing with happiness at the gift.

Simba nodded. "Yup, your favorite author. I hope you enjoy it."

The three of them moved further into the bedroom, Simba and Ashton sitting on the bed to catch up. He listened to Ashton's stories, snorting with laughter when he heard how Tim wasn't as good at helping Ashton with math as Simba was.

"Hey, not everyone can be a math genius like your Dad, okay?" Tim joked, playfully shoving Simba's shoulder.

"Of course not, but don't worry." Simba patted Tim's arm. "I'm sure you're better at other things, Tim."

"Papa is good at mowing the lawn," Ashok said, adding his two-cents. He then gave a sly smirk. "But he's also not good at cooking."

"Hey, you said you loved my cooking!"

Simba laughed, happy he was with his son again.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[basilfang]

All her notes, well most of them are in Chinese. I can't read it.

But, you are Chinese?

I am, but I don't have the language anymore.

Oh, [] sorry.

I tell my brother sometimes that the reason I steal from him is because I wish they'd taken me to China with them, after the divorce, but they didn't, and it's revenge. But that's not really true. I wish they didn't divorce at all.

Wait, your parents are divorced?

Were, they remarried each other.

I don't think I'm close enough to you to make the joke I want to make.

I think that's a good assessment, Archie. If I'm being genuine, it's a stupid part of my family's whole thing, and I wish it never happened, I mean I'm glad they got back together but separating and moving away at all? With the divorce and everything? Kid me probably thought I was never going to see my dad or brother again. At that point I hadn't been back in a while, and since they came back going to China is just something that's not come up. My brother speaks near perfect Chinese, his accent will be just like my Chinese cousins or at least similar. Even if I relearn it and become very proficient, my accent will sound like a foreigner.

Does that stop you from learning it again?

Maybe a little. I know it's a cop out.

We all go on our own journey with everything, right? I didn't start attempting pastries again until recently, after I failed miserably a few years ago and nearly set my Aunt's kitchen on fire. And this time I didn't set the kitchen on fire! Sometimes it's okay to lose your groove, or like become unfamiliar with something, and come back to it, right?

I guess. You bake? I didn't know that.

Well, I don't bake per say, I try and make sweet treats, but I'm not very good. I cook more than bake.

You should cook me a giant lasagne.

Can't tell if you're joking. You told me you're lactose intolerant.

Doesn't mean I can't enjoy a hearty cheesy lasagne. I just suffer afterwards.

Fair play. Maybe I will, you could come to mine tomorrow? We could look more at the photographs too.

About that - Willow gave me some more that were dropped on her developing room floor!

Oh cool!

I'm gonna figure out what's so weird about this town, maybe it'll stop giving me the heebie jeebies then.

-

This town is so quiet, there's barely anyone about.

I don't think it's that much of a town, if you're comparing it to Frome, and to be fair we got to Frome on a Saturday morning, it's going to be busier than a much smaller town on a Sunday evening.

Very good point. Not even a soul walking their dog though?

Maybe it's just a weird evening. Hey, O, did you figure out what that message meant?

I don't think so. The sender hasn't replied and Nora said it definitely wasn't her or Ben. They're the only ones I think might send me some sort of cryptic message like that. Might have been meant for another person.

Okay. Just ominous though, to receive it in the middle of the night.

Not on the foremost of my mind if I'm honest, a prank text message's got nothing on the weird vibe this town has. I swear my hair has been vibrating the entire time we've been in the town boundaries.

Maybe the fact you can't check Tumblr or YouTube every five mintues is forcing you to confront the grim reality of the big world we live it.

Hey, my emotional support crocheting videos can wait, it's not that. But I'm sure it's just because it reminds me so much of one of the places I grew up.

Fair. Let's check out those spots and see if you can get any good photos before it gets bats arse dark.

-

Charles, I hope this letter finds you well.

Apologies for the lateness of my response. I was hoping we could have this conversation in person, but circumstances have kept me away from London for longer than I expected. I may not be able to make Anne-May's Christmas party after all. However, that may be a blessing as you might not want to see me after your reading of this is done.

I may be old fashioned for someone my age, but I feel as though it would be unfair for me to tell you of my decision and not give you the reasoning as to why. It has been a brilliant 10 months that we've spent in each others company, and I don't regret a moment of it. But I must end our tie here. I fear you want a woman who will be your home maker, and even the mother of your children. Celia said you denied wanting to wed and make children when she asked, but - this may come as a suprise to you, and if it is this is my apologies for assuming you were a part of the decision - your mother's long letter detailing what furniture we will need in our apartment to accommodate a new born told me perhaps we are on different pages. I loved you at every turn of the night, Charles, but it's time you find a woman who can give you and your mother the life you want. Moreover, if I was ever to have children, there is no future where I raise them eating English dinner every night, I cannot subject them to that.

Now, you will send a letter demanding more as you may suspect this is not the full reason of my wanting to explore outside of our time together. So do not do so as I will tell you the other large reason. You may still find it incredible to believe, but walk with me into this. This town I am in, for my work, which you know all about so I will not burden you with a retelling, however much I love detailing the ins and outs, has left me with some experiences strange to say the least, and unsettling if I were to say a little more.

Perhaps if you did not say the things you did in February, or imply what you did when my friends were present, or my work didn't take the turn it did here, we could have seen more days together. I mean it when I say I have had a good time with you. However, Charles, for the love of all things good, stop bringing your mother into every conversation as if she was a third thumb.

Any matters to do with my belongings in what would have been our new apartment, please expect correspondence from dear Celia. As for my book collection, you can keep it, I have outgrown those volumes. Except The Haunting of Hill House. I have only read it once since it came out last year. Kindly pile it with the items that will be collected by Celia.

Lastly, I have not mentioned Old Sparky, as it upsets me so to say this, but while he was mine to begin with, it seems that you are a good owner to him, and if I'm honest, this town - I can't say how soon I would leave, therein lies part of the problem - is not suitable for dogs. Keep him happy and remember that every year on his birthday, he receives half a slice of marmalade roll.

Love, Edith

[a-polite-melody]

Interestingly!

I am a child of divorce.

Both of my parents are not children of divorce, however their parents divorced later once they were no longer parenting children together.

My dad talks extensively about how much watching his parents staying together in a loveless marriage “for the kids” seems to have messed up things in his brain with regards to relationships and intimacy.

My mom’s mom stayed married a little longer than just “for the kids” because she was financially dependent on her husband, but I was less-than-double-digits-age when that divorce did end up happening and have since only seen “my grandfather” once because both my grandma and mother decided to remove him from their lives to process having gone through some forms of abuse.

I don’t think that the way I ended up being parented and moving through life as a child were perfect, however I will forever be glad my parents did divorce when I was young. Because all I remember of them being together were explosive and scary (luckily only verbal) fights. And they both understood from their own situations that staying together and putting me through that would have similar outcomes to their own childhoods.

And I think they were very right. There certainly were other things about my childhood and how I grew up that I take some issue with, but having two independent parents who were cordial (even friendly, lucky me! my parents always maintained they were better friends than romantic partners in the first place) was a much better environment for me to grow up in than having them stay together and be verbally vicious toward one another.

"You shouldn't get divorced because kids from single parent homes have worse outcomes" or hear me out we can improve the resources available for single parents and get rid of the societal stigma against them. Because even if you fucking hate divorce for some weird reason kids with only one parent will always exist and they deserve better.

[marthespot]

Mar the Spot

I haven't done this in a while, so bear with me; the brain doesn't work like it used to, and some of the ways that it does work are not in ways that I want it to be working. A long time ago, I wrote by the Bradbury Prescription, but it's been fifteen years since I felt the need to set down my day with structure and to explore what I thought and felt about it. It's eminently and inarguably more proper to do so in an untargeted - though technically public - form than it is to make someone's eyes glaze over in texts or DMs, and since the need appears to exist, here I am. The name I used for hundreds of thousands of words isn't present in Google results anymore, because it's a series of locked pages on a low-traffic blogging site that was only the second or third most popular blogging site available, even fifteen years ago. Looking at the other people currently using it, I'm glad it's not mine anymore; they don't look like good literary neighbors. I've been drinking heavily for eight years, now, ever since she showed me three positive pregnancy tests. I wouldn't give back the time I've spent parenting, and I can't imagine life without my child, but it was very much a thing that I assumed there would be some discussion about before a pregnancy occurred. Instead, ADHD appears to have caused some skips in birth control pill dosing. Since then, it was pregnancy, partial miscarriage (it may have been twins, originally?), marriage, home ownership on short notice with all of the attendant and still-parading maintenance issues that you could expect from a home built in 1912 and being sold as part of an acrimonious divorce by the landlord-owners, and so, so much. Parenting has been better the longer it goes on. It was both incredibly difficult and incredibly unfulfilling when the child was an infant, because they were functionally a very loud plant that rapidly excreted waste substances. The most helpful thing that anyone told me when we had a newborn was a person helping on a meal train, who walked in with the food, looked and the baby, and said "Aw, it's been so long since I've had one that they're almost cute again!" I have no idea how single parents survive at any phase, but particularly with a newborn.

For several years after infancy, it seems like every time your child Levels Up in terms of ability, all they've really done is unlocked a new way for them to cause severe damage to their own skull or internal organs. Everything dangerous looks delicious, every hard corner is right at head level, and with any luck, YOUR child will also have the gleeful obsession with pulling safety covers off of things that want very much to go Bonk on little heads.

And then, at long last, words start to come. and you start getting to talk to an extremely low-resolution edition of the human that you hope you'll get to continue getting to know and helping out for the rest of your life. It's not that you couldn't get to know them prior, but that it was more difficult to know exactly what they thought of things; you'd know they didn't like a food or an experience, but not the specifics of what it was like on their end of things.

They spend the pandemic isolated from other people, as is not unusual for children their age, and it didn't seem to bother them much, presumably because they weren't old enough to remember things being particularly different. Mom and Dad were always around, thanks to dad's switch to telework, and we were always glued to screens because that's what there was to do in pandemic isolation, so it didn't seem like much of a hardship until it started getting to be time to start school.

They sobbed on the way to their first day, but bucked up and bravely stepped out of the car at drop off, still crying. They forced a smile and gave a tiny-thumbed Thumbs Up gesture before trudging away with that huge-looking backpack. All the frustrating of coping with what I see as an over-response to the simple process of going somewhere that Mom and Dad aren't bled away, and I cried a bit, myself, because .. well, they were temporarily not there, and that'd never been the case in their entire life.

The first year of school was a constant, sleep-deprived nightmare. Our child had never been substantially sick, and none of us had so much as a cold for the two years we spent almost completely isolated and N95'd on the occasion that we actually had to go somewhere; drop that immune system into kindergarten and you have the recipe for some respiratory wildness. They woke up coughing at least once or twice, almost every night; woke up coughing and crying hard enough to throw up maybe once or twice a week, all school year.

Funny story, looking back at the nightmare, is that they were finally diagnosed with asthma at the tail end of kindergarten and given an albuterol inhaler, which shut down the worst of the coughing. Corticosteroids, prescribed later, eventually made for a dramatic improvement in lung function and an equally dramatic reduction in coughing. Even while sleeping! Even while sick!

I recently went sober after those years of drinking because the cumulative unhappiness with the states of my body and my mind, along with the presumed impact on my life expectancy, finally coupled with a conversation that I couldn't keep up with while hung over to push me over the edge and just quit. And that conversational buddy has continued - as good ones do - to make me think, whether deliberately or inadvertently; since I don't think they should be punished for that with the unexpected unleashing of literary floodgates, again .. here I am.

[vinbee631]

What Our Parents Didn't Teach Us

chapter 3!! this is the heavy bit, I promise i have more lighthearted plans for the future, but for now, cw for homophobia, transphobia, blatant misgendering and deadnaming, + anxiety mentions and talk of divorce

the prompt for this was "no changes" which I... may have stretched a little but I like to think it still fits!

The last half hour of the drive to his parent’s house, Remus was a blur of motion in the backseat.

When Patton had noticed him picking at the red skin on his knuckles, he offered a fidget toy as a replacement, but other than that, he and his husband let him be. Remus had every reason to be stressed out, and there was no need to discuss the stimming when they’d had plenty of conversations about this day for the past week.

Everyone in the car was facing their own amount of anxiety about the day’s events. Roman’s sister, Remus’ mom, she was very well known for her unpredictability (and cruelty). She had kicked Remus out, but that had been months ago.

Roman was hopeful she was going to have a change of heart, but he was not optimistic. Mostly for Remus’ sake, but partially for his own. She was still his sister, after all. No matter how crazy or homophobic she was, a part of him was still the protective older brother, wanting to look out for her and make sure she was alright.

He tried his best to focus on literally anything else as they parked on the street in front of her house. Despite everyone’s initial anticipation, they sat in silence as the car ran, no one particularly eager to make the first move out of the safety of Roman’s car.

“We don’t have to go in until you’re ready, kiddo.” Patton unclipped his seatbelt and turned to check in on Remus. He still looked far too anxious for either of his uncles to be happy, but his determination won out eventually.

Hand in hand, the three of them walked to the door together, only breaking apart so Remus could be the one to knock on his parents’ door.

To Remus’ relief, it was not his mom that answered the door.

“Oh, buddy.” Remus let out an involuntary sniffle as his dad pushed through the doorway to wrap him in a hug. “Hey. Hi. Are you okay? I… I’m so- the apology isn’t even enough. I’m just… I’m so happy to see you.”

“Yeah,” Remus whispered, clinging back. “Um… sorry for blocking your number.”

Ron chuckled breathlessly, pulling away to cup Remus’ face in his hands. “I don’t blame you for that. I can’t deny I was worried, but… that was deserved. Uhm… would you like to come in? All of you?”

Remus took the lead, following his dad inside, with his uncles following in line behind him. After a few moments passed, and no one said anything, Remus flopped onto the couch, smiling as one of the family cats immediately made its home in his lap, purring away like nothing was wrong.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.” Remus tensed, and found that almost instantly, he was met with two protective hands on his shoulders, one his dad’s and one his uncle Roman’s, who had both, apparently, taken a seat on either side of him. Patton stood nearby, and despite his lack of height, managed to make his stance very intimidating.

“Oh. And you've brought Roman. I suppose my daughter ran off to stay with you, then?”

“He didn’t run off, Candy. He called me to tell me he was no longer welcome in his own home, to which I drove two hours in the snow to pick him up so he didn’t freeze to death. But yes, he’s been staying with me,” Roman retorted.

Patton squeezed his hand tightly. Reassurance, mostly, and probably a warning not to get too angry just yet. Roman was… well, he’d try his best at that part.

“Of course, you of all people would play into her little- tomboy fantasy. Regardless, I am glad you brought her home. Thanks for stopping by. Oh, and maybe call Dad once in a while? He asks for you all the time.”

“First of all,” Roman huffed, squeezing Patton’s hand and Remus’ shoulder to keep his anger in check, “we’re not here to ‘drop Remus off.’ I didn’t even want to bring him here in the first place. And secondly, after the- endless amount of incorrigible things Dad has said to myself and my husband, I do not think I’m going to be doing that.”

His sister rolled her eyes. “Come on, you can’t seriously still be butthurt about that, it’s been years! And, I mean, he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Candy glowered in Patton’s direction, staring him up and down as he spoke.

Patton shivered as a chill blew down his spine, and not the good kind.

“Look, I didn’t come here to let my family get verbally berated by quite possibly the most homophobic people in my life, and I’m not talking about your husband. We’re here because Remus is likely going to be staying with us permanently, which means he needs to switch schools.”

Candy looked briefly furious, before allowing her anger to settle into a deceptive calm. “Alright, fine. You can take Regina with you. She can come and live with you as long as she wants. Or, well, she can live with you as long as she wants, until the police come knocking with a missing report and an arrest on file for kidnapping. That’s fine with me.”

“Candy, please don’t-” Whatever reasoning Ron was trying to come up with was quickly shut down by a look sharp enough to kill. She directed her attention back to her brother and son, who both valiantly avoided eye contact.

“Oh, changed your mind so soon? I can’t imagine why. Well, I suppose I’m cooking for one more tonight. Three more, if your uncles decide to stay the afternoon? Come Regina, you can help me crack the eggs.”

“You know what?” Remus pushed himself up to stand, meeting her eyes before she could turn away. “I didn’t change my mind. I know exactly what I want, and what I’m going to do. I want to live with my uncles, for however long they’ll have me. I want to personally obliterate any person left still calling me that- stupid fucking name. It’s not even a cool name! It means ‘queen,’ which is one of the most boring definitions, there are like- fifty different names that mean royalty!

“Every time someone calls me that, it makes me want to rip all my skin off and pluck my eyeballs out of their sockets so I’d never have to look at myself again. I don’t know what you aim to accomplish by making my existence so unbearable that I’ve thought about not living anymore so I wouldn’t have to deal with it, but it’s not getting you ‘your daughter back,’ that’s for damn sure.

“And you know what? Maybe my decision will change! And that’s okay too! Maybe one day I’ll decide that the name I picked is stupid, which I won’t because the original Remus was a badass and died in such a cool way, and also it kinda matches Uncle Roman’s which makes it even cooler, but even then, it doesn’t matter! Even if I do go back to the way I was before, the fact that you never allowed that transition to be an option for me, actively putting me in danger of myself because you didn’t educate me on something that was so, so important for years, means that I will never go back to having the relationship I did with you when I was little.

“So you can go around and say that you disowned me, or that You made the wise decision to never allow me back in the house, but in the end, it’s me that’s cutting you off. It’s me that’s ending the relationship. Because even if Regina comes back, she’ll never come back to you. Cool? Cool. Dad, can you sign this for me?”

Remus’ mom gaped, flapping her mouth like a comically deformed fish as Ron gracefully accepted the pen and signed off where his son pointed.

Roman stood right next to him, with his own husband, the both of them shining with enough pride to light up the entire house.

When the legal business was over, if you could even call it that, Remus’ dad reached out for another hug, which was gratefully accepted, and they both eagerly promised to call each other, while easily ignoring his mother’s furious gaze.

She opened her mouth to say something else, probably senseless screaming, but Roman cut her off. “Candy, as much as I love you, I don’t think any of us are actively going to listen to what you have to say. So unless it’s an apology or a kinder invitation for free food, I think we’re gonna head out. Ron, it was nice to see you, as always.”

Candy did a little bit more useless flapping, before letting out a furious screech and stomping up the stairs and slamming what they assumed was her bedroom door. Remus let out an audible sigh, leaning into his uncle Roman’s side.

“That was… not really what I pictured, but okay.” Roman chuckled, ruffling his hair. “Regardless of intention, you did good, kid. You feeling alright?”

Remus took a moment to process the question before nodding. “I mean, obviously that sucked ass, but she didn’t scream at me and I said what I needed to say. All of the other emotional shit I’ll be able to deal with eventually.”

“Language,” Patton chided gently.

“English.” Remus and his dad responded in unison, chuckling at each other’s antics until Remus’ smile suddenly dropped.

“Hey, why the long face?” His dad asked, having to crouch down a bit to meet his eyes.

“I… I just realized I can’t just- take you with me. And that really sucks, and it’s very extra not fair that I have to leave but you have to stay here with her,” Remus huffed.

“Well,” his dad started, “I lived with your mother for a long time before we even had you. I think I can handle it if she’s in a bad mood. If it makes you feel better, I can call when you guys get back?”

“I guess,” Remus grumbled into his shoulder as they embraced again. “But, you gotta promise that if she starts fucking with you too that you won’t- put up with it like I did.”

Remus’ dad hesitated. “Well, that depends on how you define ‘messing with me,’ because it might be a bit late for that, bud.”

Patton’s lips twisted in a concerned frown, but before he could even open his mouth to offer what he intended to be a kind suggestion, Ron raised a hand in protest.

“I… believe I know what you’re going to suggest. And, I won’t lie and say I haven’t thought about… leaving, in the past. It… well, Candy and I have been through a lot together, but when it comes down to choosing between her and my son… I don’t know that I could make that decision on a whim. Not today, at any rate.”

“Well, you’re not gonna lose me if you stay here,” Remus decided, “so you’re not choosing between anything. And like… I get it, I know you loved her way before any of the crazy bitch stuff happened, but- why not? What’s… what’s really stopping you?”

Ron sighed. “Well, mostly the emotional attachment, I will admit. Probably shouldn’t be talking to my kid about this, but- divorce is hard. I don’t… I don’t want that to be my first choice without giving her… well, she’s had time to redeem herself, but I think I need to talk with her first. About a lot of things, not just today. Things that… happened between just us.

“But! That’s a horribly depressing thought for another time. Would you boys still like to have dinner together? I can drive ya to the best pizza place in existence.”

“Oh my god, we have to go. I haven’t had Tasta Pizza since November and I am actively losing my life force without it,” Remus replied seriously, his mood immediately boosted by the offer. “You guys down?”

His uncles briefly made eye contact, but it wasn’t even really a question. “As long as I can drive instead, I suppose that can be arranged.”

Remus cheered, nearly dragging his dad out the door, already chattering excitedly about their trip, bemoaning the loss of the supposed best pizza in existence.

Seeing his dad smile, truly smile, as they fought over which slices were bigger was just enough to release the tightness in Remus’ chest, keeping his spirits up even as they drove home without him.

[ketso]

Episode 13

I am waking up in my upmarket stylish pent suite in Sandton – within the most expensive square meter in Africa. I could honestly get used to this life. I mean... wow!

My daughter is now living with her husband. I still have casual sex with her father. I am driving a Ferrari and a Bentley. I am living it up! Suddenly, all those years behind bars were worth it!

I am making my way to Tholoana Kingdom today. I want in on some critical projects of the church. I'm thankful for the legal church that Laura and her family are running, but I'm ready for real work. I am meeting up with Thabi Mohale, Ona Mohale and Khotso Mohale. I'm sure Maboko Seete will be there too, but with him, all I can do is just look at him. I can't touch. I can't even let him touch. So, I'll dress in something nice so that him and I enjoy looking at each other.

I take a bath, lotion myself and dress up like the real Maphuthi Ngwenya. My bags are packed so all I do is just leave. I'll have breakfast when I land in the kingdom. I don't want to miss my flight.

As I drive out in my 2-door Bentley Continental GT Sport Coupe, I dial my daughter to check in on her. Only Thandeka the ex-wife needs Nathi to buy her cars and houses. Me… I’ve only ever wanted sex from that man.

"Hey mommy", she answers her phone.

"Sthandwa sami, kunjani?"

"I'm good. I'm still asleep. Why are you awake so early in the morning?"

"I'm going on a business trip, baby. My flight is in the next hour, so I want to beat traffic and make it there on time."

"Oh okay. Ubuya nini?" She asks me.

"Probably tomorrow. Why?"

"Senzi invited his parents over ukuvula indlu and ukuyithandazela. I was hoping that you, dad and Khanya would also come. Khanya and dad have confirmed. Khosini is still annoyed that it's you that is coming and not his mother. So, he won't be here. Will you be able to come?"

"Of course I'll be there, baby. I'd cancel my trip if you even told me it's today. Just text me all the details. Ngizofika." I say.

"Thanks mommy. Well, enjoy your trip and I'll see you tomorrow", she says.

"Thanks baby. I love you."

"Love you, mommy."

We hang up.

It feels good to be her mother. I know it's late. I know it's missing the building blocks. But I'm glad she's letting me in anyway. I'm happy that there's enough room for me and Thandeka in her life. I'm thankful that when only one of us can come to something, she chooses me.

-

My flight was good. I flew first class. Economy class sometimes gives me the hibijibies of prison. There's too many of us in one space. When I land in the kingdom, Khotso and Ona Mohale are the ones waiting to pick me up. Khotso is the one looking at me like a snack. I smile at him too. Yes, he can definitely have me. By the way, he's the single twin brother now. His wife, Remo, divorced him because he cheated with some soccer player's widow. Then he tried to marry that girl, but things didn't work out because Remo threatened that girl to the core. Apparently, she went madhouse on her... stalking her, moving shit in her house then hiding, messing with the breaks of her car and causing the poor girl to use taxis because she no longer trusted cars after accidents caused by that lunatic, driving her into a mental institution even. Lol! Remo made the side-bitch pay for the role she played in ruining her marriage. And when that Ndalo girl was threatened by social services to have her kids taken from her because of her being so unstable, she dropped Khotso and told him he wasn't worth it. So, the Mohale chief leader is single!

"Gentlemen", I greet them.

Some men-in-black creeps who are apparently the Mohale security take my bags.

Ona greets me with a handshake and smile. Professional, okay.

Khotso hugs and lays a kiss on my cheek. But it's that hug man... you know that hug that tells you that there will be more fraternising as the day goes on... I hug him back and even brush myself slightly past his penis. He holds me tighter. I think the deal is done.

"You look good", Khotso tells me.

"So do you", me.

"That means I look good too. We are identical twins", Ona says.

"Yeah, but you have two wives to tell you that", I say.

Khotso laughs. He still has his arms around me.

Ona looks at us, shakes his head then says, "We need to get going. You can fuck each other later."

I ride in their Maybach with them. They are both busy on their phones and tablets. So, I switch on my phone and check my messages. I have a few work emails that I reply to. I don't understand how a church can be run this corporate. I'd be keen to know if these people even pay tax. I should actually ask Laura. When I'm done replying to work emails, I check my text messages. Wandi has left me the details of her lunch what-what that she's planning. I reply and confirm, yet again, that I'll be there. She sends me smiley faces and asks me if I've arrived in the kingdom.

"Yeah. Just headed to my hotel now", I reply to the text.

"Senzi's mom wants me to work in her office now that I'm marrying Senzi. Apparently, I have to be close to the first lady. I told her I'd work in your office instead. She's giving me hell and Senzi says he's not getting involved. He knows his mother doesn't like me. Why would anyone want me to work with her?" Her text message.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll sort it out. You'll work in my office." I reply via text.

"Thanks mommy. Enjoy your trip." Her.

I send her kisses.

We arrive at the Royal house.

"I thought I was staying at a hotel", I say.

"Why? We have enough room here." Khotso says.

"And we are just on time for breakfast. Everyone is waiting for us", Ona.

Who the hell is everyone?!

I am led to the dining table. Ja, everyone is here. Ona's two wives are here. Ona's twins and their wives. Ona's other four kids are here - including Thandeka's child - are all here. Khotso's two kids are here too. Then the grandkids are here too. This is a big table. And there's just a lot going on. The queen-mother passed away, so she's the only missing person at this table. Ona and Khotso did not take her death well at all, but everyone says that they took it better than they took King Mohato Mohale's death. But at least the queen-mother is now reunited with her man.

We are already digging into the breakfast and the table is very chatty.

"Aus'Phuthi", a child calls me.

I look up from my plate. It's Khotso's daughter, Rena.

"Yes?" Me.

"Do you have any children?" She asks me. But she's smiling at me. I heard she doesn't like anyone. I heard she's a bit of an ice queen.

"I do. I have one child. A daughter. But she's all grown up and married now." I say.

"I see. Do you miss her?" She asks me.

I look around the table. All the adults are observing us carefully. Khotso is even smiling at us.

"I get to see her every day, so at least she's still in my life. Plus, I didn't lose her. I gained a son too. So now I have two kids." I say.

"Is that how it works? So if I get married, my dad would gain a son and not necessarily lose a daughter? I thought getting married meant leaving behind your family and focusing on your new family", she says.

Yoh, this kid's questions. At breakfast vele? Her brain is this active so early in the morning?

"I'm not allowing anyone to take you away from me, baby girl." Khotso rescues me a bit.

"So, my husband would become Mr Mohale?"

We all choke on our food a bit.

"Did someone ask you to marry them, Lefatselabarena?" Ona enquires.

"Not really", she says.

"Not really?!" Khotso and Ona both say.

Ja no, this conversation.

"Someone tried. But he's not worth it. So, I'm not interested." She says.

Ona and Khotso look at each other. This child is a teenager. Khotso has told me that she is in grade eleven and is nervous about how she will be when she is in matric. He keeps telling me he was wild in matric to a point where a fellow matric student passed away at a weekend away where they were celebrating their eighteenth birthday. So he isn’t entirely excited about Rena turning eighteen or going to matric.

"Aus'Phuthi, have you ever been married before?" Moloko asks me. He's Khotso's son.

Yerrr!

"No, I haven't." Me.

"Would you ever consider getting married?" Moloko asks me.

I take a deep breath and say, "Probably not."

"Not even to our dad?" Moloko.

Now I seriously choke on my food. These kids stare at me, waiting for their answer. I'm just drinking water and trying to get the food to go down the right pipe.

"Well, we think that you are pretty and we think that you are cool. We wouldn't mind if you married our dad", Rena says.

I'm still coughing on the food I'm choking on.

Yoh!

Ona and Khotso set me up! I should’ve gone to that hotel.

…

We are in Shaka's office now. The pope. Maboko Seete is here. But he's son is here with him. They look like brothers. Zithulele is also here with his two sons. The Mohales are here with their boys. I notice that Reahile is very close to Khotso – much closer than what he is to Ona… and he’s biologically Ona’s. But I have also been told that Reahile just chose Khotso to be his father and Khotso is the one who has been raising him. Ona has tried to bring him closer, even letting Reahile stay with his second wife. But apparently, the minute that Khotso settles with a stable woman – stable enough to even live with Rena and Moloko – Reahile will move into that house with his wife and kids. I feel for Ona a bit. I’d die if Wandi chose another woman over me to be her mother. But bonds are bonds I suppose.

Thabi is here so I don't feel as singled out as I would have been had I been the only woman here.

Shaka finally walks in with his son, Ntuthuko.

"Sorry to keep you waiting", he says as he walks in.

We are all silent.

"Phuthi, welcome." Shaka says.

I nod my head.

"We heard your cry about wanting to be more involved in the church. We had you running mines before you did time. You are good at the corporate face of things. The crime side of things requires a lot of training. And right now, we don't have time." Shaka says.

I don't say anything. I'm slightly annoyed though.

"But I do understand your frustration of working at that church under Laura. Mining is dangerous for you right now. Putting you back there would attract more cops for you, and that's not good for us. I'm thinking a hospital", he says.

We are all a bit confused.

"I'm not a doctor, though". Me.

"You will be managing a hospital that we will be building. It would even make our organ trading a lot easier. Thabi will help you", Shaka says.

"I'm a queen. I can't be -

She's silent now. Everyone is staring at her.

"Will you be able to move to the kingdom? Permanently." Shaka asks me.

I was loving being close to my daughter. But I guess she can always visit.

"Sure", I say.

He nods his head then moves on to the next thing on the agenda. Thabi is not happy at all. At all.

We finish the meeting after about three hours. Then people leave the office. I just want to go and sleep. But the Mohales are my ride. Fortunately, we are driving back to the royal house. I'm dropped off at the guests' wing then they proceed with whatever business that they have for the day.

I spent the afternoon enjoying a nice long bath, romancing myself really with candles as I lotioned myself and dressed up in a cute dress.

There's a TV in here, so I find myself putting on some movie. I don't even make it past twenty minutes. I pass out.

I am woken by a presence hovering over me. It unsettles me because it instantly reminds me of prison. I count to ten before I open my eyes. I'm reminding myself that I'm not there anymore. I don't have to jump out of bed and immediately defend myself so I live another day. I turn around gently then open my eyes.

"Hi", Rena says to me waving her hand at me.

This child.

"Hello", Moloko says. He's even sitting on the bed.

These kids need to learn a thing or two about manners. I mean REALLY!

"We thought we would come and sit with you", Rena says.

I force a smile on my face. What I want to do is tell them to get the fuck out of here so I can sleep.

"We really like you. So, we want to hang out with you", Moloko says.

Gold star for me I suppose.

I sit up and pay them some attention.

"How has your day been?" I ask them.

"It was okay. I got 97 percent for my advanced programming mathematics test, so I'm excited. That thing has made me cry real tears in the past. Before this test, I was two marks away from beating the child that is first in our grade for the term. Now I caught up and I'm number one in my grade! My best friend, Ruri, is number two. But she's number one in English and Social Sciences. Oh, and design. But she has an unfair advantage. She's already a designer. She and her mom have a shop together. I wish my mother were still here", ja, Rena can TALK!

Lord, give me strength.

"You miss your mom, huh?" Me.

She nods her head, feeling so sad all of a sudden.

"I love my dad very much. But sometimes, I wish he could marry someone who at least has a clue. Someone like you." Rena.

She's starting. Moloko has just taken over the TV.

"Have you ever told him that?" I ask Rena.

"All the time. But you know papa. No one tells him what to do with his penis." She says, catching me completely off-guard and I choke on my spit. How old is this child again?

"You need to stop coughing so much", she says to me.

I make some space on the bed for her to climb in. She smiles at me then climbs in.

"So tell me, how can I do some of the things that you'd want to do with your mommy? I know I could never replace her. And I don't want to. But how can you and I have special things that we do together?" I ask her.

She cuddles up to me with excitement.

"You can tell me what the secret is to stay clean when I'm on my period. My teacher taught me how to use a sanitary towel. I didn't even tell my dad that I had started my period." She says.

This breaks my heart.

I wasn't even there for Wandi.

It's sad really. My baby and Rena grew up without mothers. But Rena's mother is a better woman than I am. She passed away. I was alive and still couldn't be there for my only child.

"You know what, I can do that. In fact, twice every month, I'll make sure that we have girls' weekend. Then we can chat and I can just be there for whatever you need... even if I'm not with your dad. Would that be okay?" Me.

"YEEEEEESSSSS!" She screams and says.

I laugh and hug her. She has a very playful spirit and a child-like excitement about her. I don’t think she will be an eighteen-year-old nightmare. I think Khotso can relax a bit. Rena is one of the good ones.

Khotso walks into the bedroom. Yeah, the kids left my door open.

"I hope they are not bothering you", Khotso says. Actually, they woke me up from some really great sleep, dude!

"Papa, Aus'Phuthi will be taking me on girls' weekends every month", Rena says.

Khotso smiles then says, "Really? So, when will she be spending time with me?"

"She said she doesn't need to be with you to do fun girl stuff with me", Rena.

"Oh really? But she's my friend. You are stealing her from me?" Khotso.

"Yep. Me and Moloko. I'm going to do mommy and daughter things with Aus'Phuthi now... like Ruri does with her mommy." Rena says.

Khotso and I look at each other. You can just see that a part of him is still in pain.

"I'm happy for you, baby girl", Khotso says.

"Loko, come on. Let's go get a snack. Daddy want to ask Aus'Phuthi to be his girlfriend", Rena says. I'll probably never get used to Rena's tongue. Like ever.

"Oooooohhhhh la la", Moloko says.

We all laugh then the kids leave, leaving just Khotso and I alone.

"You know, I'm going to fuck you. There's no need for you to suck up to my kids", he says.

"Wow! Now I see where Rena gets that mouth from." I say.

We both laugh.

He climbs on the bed and lies does next to me, putting his head on my lap now that I'm sitting up.

"She also told me that she wishes that you could marry someone who actually has a clue", I say.

"Yep, that's definitely something that came out of the mouth of Lefatselabarena Mohale." He says and we laugh.

"What broke my heart though is her saying that some girl that's her friend has an unfair advantage at one of the subjects at school because she has a mother." I say.

His face also drops.

"She told me her teacher taught her how to use a sanitary towel when she started her period", I continue.

He tenses up.

"You know, my daughter grew up without me too. She was a few days old when I went inside. I came out, she was seven. I went back in before she was even eight. I was never there. Rena's mom is a better woman than me. She passed on. She genuinely couldn't be there. I was alive and she grew up without a mother. She was raped. She was abused. She was moved from house to house every time Nathi's wife didn't feel like having her around. I failed her. I'm a bad mother. I'll never have any of those years back. And I know I'll never make up for it by being there for Rena... I'll probably never even let go of the guilt I feel inside of me for not being there for Wandisa. But, I'll do my best with your daughter - regardless of what happens between you and me."

He holds my hand.

I didn't realise that I was crying.

"You are a brilliant mother", he says.

I don't believe him.

"You were in jail, yes. But I remember a large portion of money from the church paying for some expensive boarding school for your kid because you blackmailed a shit load of people into making sure that your daughter was okay. There's a whole trust set up for her that you said you'd gift her when she goes to university".

I laugh and say, "then she chose to not go to university. I don't know what to do with that money now."

"The bottom line is that even from behind bars, you were a mother. You ordered hits on every man that touched her. You are not the ordinary mother, yes. But you are a mother. A damn good one. And she knows it. That's why she goes above and beyond to "tefa" now that you are around." He says.

I smile at him.

"Thank you", I say.

"Can we fuck now?" Him.

I just burst into laughter.

[christaspirit]

Danny blinked in surprise when he checked his email.

That one fanfic he started reading a year ago that had been abandoned two chapters from the supposed finish... had updated.

It had been a year since it had update when he first read it, Danny had even considered not subscribing, but the author hadn't said anything before about abandoning it, and had even said in his notes that he was eager to finally post the last two chapters.

Then nothing.

Danny shrugged, and opened the fic.

-

Sorry for not updating. Thought my dad didn't love me, did some stupid stuff, got blown up, wandered around brainless for a bit, but now I'm back! The last two chapters have been written for the last 2 years, I am so sorry about the delay.

Anyway, I hope you have a blast reading this chapter! Next one will be up tomorrow, and this fic will finally be done!

-

Danny stared.

Did... did this guy imply that he had been blown up?

Danny frowned.

Huh.

---

Jason grinned as he read through the comments. Some people seemed to have noticed what he implied, others were clearly confused.

He spotted a new commenter, one he didn't recognize, and chuckled at the commenters joke.

PhantomNotBill087:

I sure had a *blast* reading this latest chapter. Glad your back, hope your visit to the realm beyond wasn't too long!

Jason clicked the profile, deciding to check it out, and scrolled down to find the list of fics the user had written.

He clicked on one that seemed intresting, and sat down to read it.

About an hour in, he came across an author note, and frowned.

-

Sorry about the delay! There was an incident with some loose wires and an improperly placed button and I landed myself in the hospital for 3 weeks! (actually, I blame my friend). Honestly, that was too much time, I only half-died! After that I had trouble doing much of anything... I have been banned from holding any glassware at school ever again!

Anyway, updates should hopefully return to normal.

-

The Ao3 author curse was real.

But as Jason continued reading, the Author's notes got weirder and weirder.

-

My friend changed the lunch schedule at school and a lunch lady got PISSED. My heart stopped. Genuinely. Anyway, here's the update!

-

Sorry for the delay, had to spend the night keeping an eye on a gorilla for extra credit. The zoo apparently didn't know the gorilla was a girl, and I have now saved the species. Also, a weird poacher guy showed up and long story short he thinks I'm interesting and spent the night chasing after me. Thank goodness my friend managed to get him stuck on a different schedule.

-

Srry for the delay, my parents dragged me and my sister to their college reunion. Met their old college friend. Dad thinks they're friends, I think he's a fruitloop (he wants to make out with my MOM! EW!) Also, he's a jerk, and nearly killed my dad.

-

Yikes. Thought my parents were getting divorced for a hot second. Nope, just the anniversary of my aunt's divorce! And luckily, I got my dad the present he got my mom and didn't stay in jail for unjust reasons!

-

Sorry for the delay, I got his with a beam and was out of my mind with a crush (it wasn't real. I think). Also, my friend beat everyone on a test cause he was the only one who studied, everyone else went to a concert.

-

Ever have a sibling so nosy that she tries to get on you for being stressed? And doesn't know what the stressor is? Also, the school counselor SUCKED, everyone was so depressed! Honestly, I'm glad my sister tore her a new one.

-

Sorry for the delay. I lost a bet and had to eat my bully's underwear. It was gross, and I didn't get any writing done.

-

My sister got a crush on a jerk! I can't believe her! This guy doesn't even act human!

-

Update on the sister situation: they are no longer dating, and I weirdly had my parents on my side AGAINST my sister.

-

My town hates me. This is bad. They also aren't getting my name right, so I'm changing my username here. But I did make a new friend!

-

I got a girlfriend!

-

I no longer have a girlfriend. Her boyfriend found out. She was using me as a rebound. Also, she wasn't who I thought she was.

-

Ever done those flour sack babies? Yeah, don't. They suck. Shocker. I also got a C. Everyone in the class failed cause their babies became cookies. Well, except my friend. She got an A. Her teammate, my other friend, failed though. He'd been in charge of the flour sacks, and left them alone. His mom made the cookies.

-

Might miss next update, fruitloop put a bounty on my head.

-

There is no longer a bounty on my head.

-

Sorry for the delay, I was temporarily forced to join the circus, be part of a thief gang, and my friend almost died. Luckily she didn't get as close as I did.

-

All of the adults in my town left for a bit. Turns out they got mind controlled, and so me and my classmates had to save them from a pirate kid.

-

Sorry for the delay. My town was temporarily in another dimension. Then I was unconscious for a bit. I think fruitloop stole from my parents. Also! The whole town doesn't hate me anymore, and they know my name!

-

Note to self, never cheat on a test. It will have bad consequences, and destroy the future.

Also, apparently, my sister knows my secret.

-

My friend entered a beauty pageant to get my attention, I accidentally declared her the winner, she caused a revolution, then I actually declared her the winner. Thus, all the girls at my school hate me. Sigh.

-

Fruitloop has crossed a line, and now I have a cousin/sister/something, idk. Kinda worried, cause she just took off as well. I wish I could spill the blackmail I have on him, but he'd spill his blackmail he has on me! Really worried about my little... ugh, she said cousin at first so lets go with that.

-

Sorry for the delay, and apologies for the weirdness the last few days, that may have been my fault. Luckily, nobody learned the truth anymore, so that's good! And school's out!

-

I'm pranking Fruitloop

-

He decided to become mayor in retaliation. I can't go to my favorite resteraunt anymore! The burgers there were to die for! Ugh!

-

He's still mayor, blegh, but he's not enforcing the strict rules anymore. Teen can enter our local burger joint once more!

-

Sorry for the delay. A plant monster took over my town and possessed everyone in it (he declared my friend his DAUGHTER, eugh!). He's gone now, so we're all good.

-

I am now rich. I don't trust the government though.

-

I am no longer rich.

-

Sorry for the delay, the whole town overslept. Also, help, what do I do? I just realized I have a crush on my friend! And I think she likes me back? Gah!

-

I'm gonna miss the next update, sorry, my class is going camping.

-

I'm back. We ran into wolves. Kids went missing. Anyway, here's the chapter!

-

My little cousin came back and she's really sick. We fixed the problem (for now at least), and my ex-almost girlfriend doesn't think she's evil, so I think we made a temporary truce. But Fruitloop tried to kill my little cousin, and nearly got away with it! I need to do something about him soon.

-

Hi sorry for the delay the world almost ended.

-

Oh, I didn't mention last update, but me and my friend are dating now! And I think fruitloop is gone.

-

Time itself started to fall apart at the seams, so we had to reset it. Sorry for any fuzzy memories of the last month and a half-ish?

Fruitloop is also apparently not dead. He's doing better apparently? Still don't really trust him, but he's also now the guardian of alt. me so...

-

Jason was a little worried. Who the [redacted] was this kid?

...he should probably check with someone in the Flash family about time getting reset. If that was true, then the other stuff...

Yikes.

What did he mean the world almost ended?

DP x DC Prompt #58

Jason has been writing fanfiction ever since he got access to a computer. They weren't always the most popular, especially since he was writing fics about classics, but that's not why he wrote them. He wrote them for himself.

However, since he always had Robin stuff going on, his author notes had become something of a meme at this point. No one really believed him anymore when he apologized for late updates due to breaking his arm in three places or anything like that.

Then, he died. He had been two chapters away from ending his story, damnit.

But it's fine, he's back now. He apologizes for late update since he, ya know, died and finishes that story. Then, he finds out there's another author out there with notes ... very similar to his own. And a lot of humor about his own death.

Maybe PhantomNotBill087 and him had a lot more in common than being fic writers.

[straw-hat-steph]

How I feel about WHO ??

Sebastian X GN Farmer - (dialogue heavy) one shot

Just over 800 words

The idea for this came from completing Leah’s six heart event in an attempt to be friends with everyone on my save file. You can mentally swap out Sebastian for another partner if you want! (as long as it isn’t Leah of course)

“Someone just knocked on the door !”

“Okay dont worry I’ll get it”

Half putting on their boots and half stumbling, y/n makes it to the front door. It’s not unusual for someone to be here during this time, offering seeds or stray pets but it's still exciting nonetheless, especially considering the farmer has been making an effort to become friends with more people in town.

“Oh Leah ! Hi” y/n said once they opened the door, surprised to see a new friend

“Hello y/n, beautiful day isnt it ? i hope its not too early but i have brought you a gift”

On the other side of the door, Sebastian’s interest is peaked, he picks up a fussing baby from the floor and slowly walks towards the entrance of the house.

“It’s a sculpture I’ve been working on, just for you” Leah explained, earning very different looks of shock and awe from both the farmer and Sebastian.

Y/n reaches out for the sculpture and places it delicately on the porch beside them.

“It’s called… ‘How i feel about y/n’. I hope you like it” the artist continues.

“It’s amazing Leah thank you so much but you didn't have to”

“Oh don't worry about it! You’ve been so nice to me lately, bringing me salads and bottles of wine from your farm. It’s a way of me repaying you”

“Well you didnt have to but thank you so much, I’ll have to find the perfect spot for it”

Y/n briefly looked round to see their husband looking at them from the kitchen with a puzzled look on their face.

“Okay well I wont keep you for any longer. Are you coming to the stardrop tonight ?”

“Yes I am! I have some diamonds and oranges that I need to give to Gus” Y/n exclaimed, happy that someone reminded them of their to-do list

“Okay?” Leah said, now sharing the same confused look as Sebastian “Well I’ll be sat at my regular table, I dont think Elliot is joining me anymore so it will be nice to have some company”

“Oh of course I’ll come over and say hello” the farmer smiled, excited to be making friends outside of their husband and his band mates.

After saying goodbye, y/n watches as Leah maneuvers around the various barns and coops before heading back down the path towards cindersap forest. They bring in the piece of art and look at their husband.

“That was nice of them-“

“How I feel about WHO?!” Sebastian shouted, a smile creeping onto their face, leaning on the kitchen counters like an angry parent.

Y/n pretends to tuck a piece of hair behind their ear before putting the piece down and walking up to Sebastian with outstretched arms.

“If you’re cheating on me you can just say so” He playfully bats the farmer away.

“Oh my god stop being so dramatic”

“No I mean it! I mean I would have to figure out how to get the kids’ beds in my moms basement but we would remain civil. As a child of divorce I understand completely”

“Please shut up she was just being nice”

Sebastian pulls the farmer in close, their faces even closer.

“We’re married with two kids and I’ve never made you a piece of art”

“Well maybe you should”

“Have you met my mum ?? Wood carving skills are in my genes”

“And yet here i am … artless”

Sebastian tips back his head and laughs. Y/n is so glad he’s not the jealous type.

“I guess after all this time, I didn’t realise I had competition”

“You got too comfortable then. My life is like a dating sim these days”

Y/n moves out of Sebastian’s arms and walks away, trying to carry on with whatever was happening before Leah showed up. Sebastian followed them anyway.

“Oh really?” He questioned, still smiling “tell me what else i have to compete with”

“Well … Elliot dedicated his new book to me”

Sebastian acts as if he’s been shot and stumbles slightly, making Y/n laugh this time

“And Shane let me meet his chickens”

He pretends to be shot in a different part of his body. Sometimes you wonder if anyone else sees how much of an idiot he really is.

“I can’t believe Shane showed you his c-“

“Chickens!” Y/n shouts while finally stepping out of the farmhouse door.

“I cant believe I’m in this house, raising our children and you’re flirting with all of Pelican Town!”

“But you’re the one I married” Y/n laughs “I guess something about the motorbike and board games put you above the rest”

“Good” he smiles before standing on his usual spot on the porch, watching their partner throw themselves into their work. It’s times like this when he thinks about how close he was to leaving this whole town and life behind.

BONUS:

“You’ve been staring at it for hours”

“I cant tell what its supposed to be”

“It’s how they feel about me”

“It’s weird”

“It’s art”

did you like it ?? you can find more here !!

[fbfh]

rocks at your window pt. 6 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: this series contains smut and chapter by chapter warnings, so as with all nsfw works, ricky is aged up to 18+!! ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year

additionally, we're working towards a ricky x therapy plot so he's going to start expressing some symptoms of mental illness and bpd but he does get therapy eventually and has a good support system but he gets worse before he gets better yk. Obviously I'm not a professional and this is for entertainment so while I have done my research pls take this with a grain of salt!! or several!! /lh

!! contains some spoilers for season 1 of hsmtmts, and previous chapters of this fic !!

wc: 5.3k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab she/her) reader

warnings: mike's a good dad, mike and your mom are the most iconic single parent bff duo, mike and ricky are both water signs so there's a lot of feelings fromt he bowen boys, LYNNE IS SO TOXIC, intentional and unintentional guilt tripping, todd /derogatory, ricky's spiraling just a tad /s, lynne calls herself mommy once /nx, passive agression and emotional manipulation from lynne, comforting ricky, more (brief) one sided gina pining, more background slowburn ashlyn x red, nina being a tacky toxic bitch </3, groping, grinding, fingering, bathroom sex/hitting it from the back, wrap before you tap, pressing on stomach/external g spot stimulation (we need a name for that), mirror sex, one brief mention of porn, clit rubbing, attention whore hours, trying not to be too obvious about sex, I think that's it

summary: As if the holidays aren't enough of an emotional minefield, Ricky gets blasted with back to back phone disasters from his mom, and trusts you implicitly to help him navigate through it. You turn the night around by going to Ashlyn's thanksgiving party with your theatre friends, where it's only a matter of time before you're sneaking upstairs together.

song recs: are you in love - the regrettes, nothing came out - moldy peaches, ribs - lorde, into you - ariana grande (bathroom at a party edit), lover's spit - broken social scene

a/n: got bad burnout/depressive episode in the middle of writing this (i'm fine now /gen) so it took longer than I wanted but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! I love you all and I'm really glad you're liking this so far, it really does mean the world to me babes <333 Also thank you again Cici for proofreading!!!!!

tags @yesv01 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @hopefullhearts @pikzel @demirunner @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa @n-slayaaaaa @stormi-ames

Ricky has been dreading the holidays this year, and he knows his dad has been too. When she left, she took that warm hustle and bustle, that rush of excitement was with her. But he and his dad weren’t totally without holiday spirit, thanks to you and your mom. Your mom and Ricky’s dad bonded over PTA meetings and having their kids star in the same show, quickly becoming the single parent friend the other needed. Since your mom has been through the divorce wringer, she’s been there to support Mike, encouraging him to be there for Ricky and prioritize him. Mike has found a lot of strength and camaraderie in your mom, so when the holidays begin to approach, a joint thanksgiving seems like the obvious option. 

Pooling resources, helping each other cook, and navigating relatives together will both be much more manageable with a friend by your side, so they’ve been bouncing between each other's houses for the last week or so, coordinating recipes and travel plans. You and Ricky have been helping around rehearsals and homework too - just last night Mike watched you two sit at his kitchen table making paper leaves and turkeys, laughing for hours. 

It’s finally turkey day, and you and Ricky are wrapping up the last decorations while your mom and Mike get the final dishes out of the oven. Mike watches you two talk, giggling at something or other ever few minutes. He hasn’t seen Ricky like this in a long time. A few months ago if Mike had asked his son to do festive arts and crafts with him, he would have laughed. Now you’re both approaching him with a giggle, asking him to decide which hand turkey is better. Yours is really colorful, but Ricky’s has a funky little hat. He sucks in a breath.

“That’s a toughie… I gotta say it’s a tie.” 

“I called it,” you say with a knowing smile, and Ricky lets out a loud laugh.

“She did,” he tells his dad as you walk back to the dining room table, “she totally called it.” 

Ricky stays in the kitchen for a few moments to throw away all the scraps of construction paper and synthetic feathers, tacky with glitter glue. He watches you until you’re out of sight, and his gaze lingers. He lets out a soft sigh, overjoyed from being in your presence. It’s quiet for a moment. Mike lets out a soft sigh.

“You really like her, huh?”

Ricky looks at the last piece of cut up construction paper in his hands, the one you’d been using. He watches the way the glitter shifts in the light, the glitter you’d placed with your own two hands, and it feels like he’s looking at the starriest night sky he’s ever seen. He’s enchanted. 

“Yeah…” he breathes, obviously deeply lovestruck, “I really, really do.” 

That’s putting it lightly. He’s been trying not to dwell on the dream he had last night where you two had moved into an apartment in portland and adopted two dogs. He didn’t realize how badly he wanted that sort of thing, that life, until he saw it last night, but now it’s consumed his thoughts in every spare moment. 

Mike places his hand on Ricky’s shoulder. The gesture is reassuring and comforting, and brings a sudden unexpected wave of emotion over Ricky. 

“You work well together.” 

His words are simple, but there’s so much meaning behind them. Ricky understands this, and he’s grateful for his dad’s blessing. 

“Thanks.” Ricky says with another one of those smiles Mike hasn’t seen on his face since you came into his life. He’s happy he’s been seeing them again. He pats Ricky on the back one more time before sending him back into the dining room with you to hang up the decorations you finished. 

Mike goes back to the stove to check on the potatoes, and as it so often seems to, his mind wanders to Lynne. He's been doing his best to take your mom's advice, to let Ricky decide when and how much he wants to talk to her - if he does at all - but it's been hard. He knows how much a call from Ricky would mean to her, especially this time of year. Your mom enters the kitchen through the back door a few minutes later, and holds up a shopping bag triumphantly. 

"Butter, yeast, and nutmeg." She states, pulling out the ingredients they had run out of. Mike thanks her, but she doesn't miss the solemn look on his face. 

"You okay?" She asks, a knowing tone to her voice. Mike is so glad that she's been here. It's nice to have a friend, and some feminine energy in their house. He lets out a sigh, and finds himself rambling before he can stop himself. 

"I just know she’s miserable." He says, "All alone in a cold apartment, and during the holidays? We used to get so excited this time of year, I can't imagine how alone she must feel." 

Hovering outside the doorway, Ricky feels his stomach sink. Guilt creeps in, and he’s running up to his room before he can think.

As his footsteps recede, your mom lets out a knowing sigh. They've had this conversation many times before, and she’s happy to be there for him, to give him that support to make sure he doesn't backslide. The cleaner the breakup the better, especially when kids are involved - she knows from experience. 

"Mhm." She starts, and Mike fights a smile. He knows what she's going to say, but he needs to hear it anyway. "And what did you and her decide about communication with Ricky?"

"She promised she'd call at least once a week and I'd tell her if he wants her to call him less."

"And…?"

His silence is all the answer either of them need. 

"She’s probably upset," he says, reaching for an explanation, "I know she misses Ricky-"

"Screw that." Your mom says, pausing on the rolls she's making to look up at him. "If she wanted to, she would, Mike." 

He's quiet again. 

"Is there anything," she questions, that seriousness in her voice that only comes from a parent talking about their kid, "anything in this world, any bad feeling that could keep you from talking to Ricky for weeks?" 

"No." He doesn't even need to consider. "Of course not." 

She holds out her hand, point proven. Mike silently concedes. He's not sure what it is about Lynne that makes it so hard to detach, so hard to set and keep boundaries, but he’s grateful for the support. He couldn't do it without your mom. 

“Why don’t you put on some music?” she asks, knowing his favorite part of the holidays are his playlists. 

If Ricky had stuck around for a few more seconds, he wouldn't have found himself where he is now; pacing his room, biting his lip as he keeps opening and closing the phone app. The idea of calling her feels gross. Not calling her feels gross. He feels so fucking gross and he just wants it to stop. A wave of laughter passes downstairs as his dad starts singing along poorly to the Michael Buble now playing out of the Alexa in the kitchen. It should make him feel warm, happy, good. Instead it just makes his stomach drop and tears spring to his eyes. 

It feels like the universe is conspiring against him, throwing in his face everything she’s missing right now. He can’t get the image of her alone in a sad dim apartment out of his head. His hands shake as he holds his phone to his ear, dial tone ringing softly. She needs this more than he does, he thinks. No matter how much it’s hurting him to call her right now, he can keep it together. He can do this for her. He can be civil for a few minutes over the phone and that will give her at least a decent Thanksgiving. 

“Hello?”

Ricky stops in his tracks as an unfamiliar man’s voice reverberates through his phone speaker. 

“Uh, hi,” he starts, confused. He knows he called her contact in his phone. “...I’m trying to reach Lynne Bowen?” he swallows thickly hoping the stranger won’t hear the way his voice cracks. He doesn’t remember the last time he had to use her full name. “I think I have the wrong number.” he chuckles dryly. 

“No, you got it,” he doesn’t have time to process that before the stranger keeps speaking. “Ricky, this is Todd. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Todd? 

“Lynne’s in the shower, can I take a message?”

He briefly wonders why she would have a stranger in her apartment answering her phone while she showers, but he knows this guy - Todd - must be her… He knows his fleeting hope that he’s wrong and this is some crazy stalker that broke into her house is just that, fleeting hope. His stomach is twisted up in knots and he can’t breathe right. His mind is racing, swirling and repeating the 10 seconds of this terrible phone call over and over. 

“Ricky?” 

Part of him wishes he could scream at this guy to keep his name out of his mouth. Hers too. He has no right to be anywhere near her. Not when she needs time to herself; so much time to herself, to figure this all out, that she can’t even be around her son. A very jaded part of him might understand if she never wanted to see his dad again, but a small voice in his head is screaming, asking why she’s okay with abandoning both of them. He’s her son, her child. Aren’t parents supposed to care about their children?

He hangs up the call before he can further this horrible pointless train of thought. He rushes into the bathroom, locking the door. He paces around. He splashes cold water on his face. He tries to get his shit together. He tries to make it look like he’s not about to break down. It’s Thanksgiving; this holiday might be ruined for him, but he won’t ruin it for his dad, or you, or your mom. He can pull it together, he can act like everything’s fine. He’s supposed to be an actor, right? 

After he desperately tries to collect himself, he heads back down, bumping into you on the stairs. 

“Hey, I was just looking for you…” you trail off. You take one look at his face, and he knows you know something’s wrong. “You okay?” 

Your voice is so sweet, so sincere that it digs everything he just tried to bury. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It doesn’t have to, though. He can tell from the look on your face that you understand. 

“Do you want to go talk?” you ask gently. He nods. He can feel himself fighting tears, brow scrunching up at the effort. 

A few minutes later you’re sitting on his bed while he tells you everything. He knows he’s probably not making it sound as horrible as it felt, but he’s backpedaling. He can hear her voice in his head, telling him not to get so worked up over nothing, that he’s blowing this all out of proportion. 

“What the fuck?” you ask, looking as confused as he feels. He’s about to agree, this is stupid, and you should just go downstairs and- “What the hell is wrong with him?” 

He stops in his tracks.

“That was so outrageously inappropriate. I don’t know whether or not she told him not to talk to you, but obviously she should have.” 

He lets out a small breath, the first time he’s been able to since this whole incident. 

“It was pretty out of line, right?” he says hesitantly.

“Way out of line!” you say with a disbelieving laugh, “I can’t believe you just went through that!” 

He lets out a nervous laugh, feeling some of his distress transmute into anger, and because of you, he’s sure it’s justified. 

“What kind of lunatic answers their… I don’t know who he’s supposed to be - a friend, assistant, weird invasive neighbor -” Ricky laughs, and you continue ranting, worked up for him, “But unless he’s literally her life coach or personal assistant or something, there is no fucking reason why should have answered her phone. Also why the hell would he try to strike up a conversation with you? This isn’t some little league game, or PTA meeting!”  

He can feel himself coming down from the panic that had gripped him so tight before. 

“You know, maybe - just if you’re ready for this -” you amend, wanting him to know he’s not pressured to do anything, “maybe you should take her out of your favorites.” 

He sits with your words for a moment, considering. 

“Yeah,” he says, “maybe I should.” He’s already opening his contacts to remove her, when a voicemail pops up. He must have missed the call when you were talking, but he recognizes the number as hers. He lets out a weary sigh.

“I got a voicemail…” he turns his screen toward you so you can see. 

“Do you want me to… proof-listen to it?” You offer gently.

“Could you?” there’s a fragility in his voice that makes your chest squeeze. You accept the phone with no hesitation, pressing play and holding it to your ear. 

“Hi sweetie, it’s mommy…” 

Off to a bad start.

“Sorry I missed you, Todd told me you called, so I called you right back but I got your voicemail instead.” 

Her voice drips with a tone that’s obviously looking for sympathy. 

“I hope you’re having a good holiday. Tell your dad not to burn the turkey like he did a few years ago. I won’t be here to fix all the recipes, so help him out in the kitchen, okay?” 

There’s an edge of condescension to her voice that you don’t appreciate. Ricky’s dad has been doing great, especially under the circumstances. 

“My Thanksgiving is going well,” she continues, chuckling “Todd and I watched the parade, and some of those performances were really terrible. I don’t know who let them go out looking like that, and that tacky little girl on the turtle float was seriously tone deaf…”

You and Ricky had also watched the parade, and all the performers did great. You both loved the girl on the turtle float, she killed it. She hit a high C that left you both speechless. 

“Anyway, we’re meeting up with some friends later; I think this will be the first holiday party I’ve been to in years without children. Other than that, things have been fine. It’s been quiet, and a pleasure not to spend all day slaving away in the kitchen. Call me back when you get this, I’d like to hear your voice. Bye bye.” 

If you’d like to replay this message, press 7. 

You pull the phone away from your ear. You don’t say anything, but the expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. You slowly hand him back his phone. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t listen to that now.” Your voice is quiet, trying to maintain your composure, “Or ever. Maybe just delete that one.” 

He chuckles dryly. “That bad?”

“Oh yeah.” you state. He lets out a shuddering sigh, and it’s obvious the toll this whole ordeal has taken on him. 

“C’mere,” you say softly, flopping down on his bed and opening up your arms for him. His chest squeezes and he’s overwhelmed with another wave of emotion. He wonders when it will stop, constantly being bombarded with complicated horrible situations he can barely handle. It’s a lot. It’s too much. 

You wrap your arms around him, dragging your nails up and down his back in that soothing way that you do, and he feels it start to slow down. He’s still upset, anyone would be, but it feels like he can handle it somehow. He buries his face in your neck, soothed by your smell, your touch, even your breathing and heartbeat. He lets out another sigh, this one relieved as he finally starts to come down from the acute distress he’s been in for the last little while. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” you say, just loud enough for him to hear you. “It’s all going to work out with some time. It’s gonna be okay.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just holds you tighter. 

“Hey, kids!” You both look up as you hear Mike call you from downstairs, “Everyone’s here, come say hi!” 

You share a look with Ricky, silently asking if he’s ready. As I’ll ever be, his expression says. 

“Coming!” you reply. 

You spend the next hour or so greeting aunts, uncles, and family friends that both your mom and Ricky’s dad had invited. A handful of elementary school kids run around; cousins, kids of coworkers and the like. After a substantial amount of wow you’re so tall, the last time I saw you you were still watching sesame street, and countless so how’s school going? comments, the parents finally rescue you from someone's grandma - you’re not sure whose - and pull you into the kitchen. You’re about to ask when you can go to Ashlyn’s thanksgiving party, but they jump in before you can.

“Thank you guys for all your help with the cooking and decorating, you did a great job.” Your mom says.

“And,” Mike continues, “since you said hello to everyone you can go to your friends party whenever you’re ready.” 

You smile, blurting out a thank you in unison and hugging your respective parents. 

“Take these with you, and tell Ashlyn’s parents we said hello.” Your mom hands you a box or two of pumpkin bites to bring with you. 

You’re grabbing your coats when Ricky gets a text from Gina, offering to walk him to the party. He texts her back, letting her know he’s driving there with you and asking if she needs a ride. A second later, his phone buzzes again.

‘Of course you are. See you there.’ 

“You ready to party?” you ask, drawing his attention back to you where it so often resides. The drive is short and pleasant. When you arrive at Ashlyn’s a few minutes later, everything’s in full swing. Making your way through the house, you see Nini in the kitchen, having some intense girl talk with Gina. Most of your other friends are in the living room, including Big Red, who seems to be flirting with Ashlyn - or at least trying to. Ricky makes a mental note to ask him about that later. You pass by EJ on the stairs, who’s ranting to no one about getting ratioed. You start to sit down with your friends, then turn to Ricky.

“Do you want a drink?” you ask, and he nods, thanking you. You make your way to the kitchen, smiling when you see a case of Ricky’s favorite soda. You grab a can for him, then look around to pick one out for yourself. You turn around only to be met with Nina. You jump slightly at the unexpected presence. Before you can even greet her, she starts talking, staring you down. 

“You need to stay away from Ricky.” You’ve been here for three minutes and she’s already off to a strong start. “You’re not his girlfriend, so stop acting like it. I should know, I’m the one who’s known him since kindergarten.” You’re trying hard to be mature about this, even with the ridiculously incredulous look on her face. You take a subtle, grounding breath and think for a moment about how to respond in a way that will get your point across without causing even more drama. 

“Wow,” you start, “okay- uh, look, we haven’t made anything official, but full disclosure, we have hooked up a few times.” 

She looks irritated, and you continue.

“Also, you broke up.” you state, a shrug, your expression bewildered at how she’s acting, “You’re not his girlfriend either.” Having said what you need to say, you grab your own beverage and leave the kitchen as Ashlyn enters. On your way out, you hear her tell Ashlyn how she’s right, that she should stop writing songs about crappy relationships and crappy boys and just write about life. 

You sigh as you reenter the living room, glad Ricky wasn’t in earshot of that. After the day he’s had and all the shit he had to deal with from his mom, you’re sure the last thing he needs is another person to confirm all of his fears. You perch on the arm of the cushy chair he’s sitting in and hand him his drink. He smiles up at you, looking sweeter than ever, and you wonder how anyone could think he’s anything close to crappy, anything less than the most wonderful endearing boy you’ve ever met. You really don’t trust Nina’s taste in people. 

“I am so sorry,” Ricky says for the millionth time, ushering you into the bathroom. You let out another sweet laugh, genuinely unperturbed by the drink he’d spilled on you by accident. You make your way to the sink, turning on the warm water and grabbing a wad of tissues. You briefly run them under the water to get them damp, and start blotting at the very large stain. Ricky does the same, attempting to remove the sticky sweet liquid from your clothes. 

“God, it’s all over you,” he smiles, and you can tell he still feels bad. 

“It’s okay,” you say with a giggle, “Now I have a tangible memory from tonight, and a great story for the drycleaners.” He starts to relax a little, sensing that you’re telling the truth, you’re not upset. Even if you were, he’s sure it wouldn’t be at him - you know it really was an accident. After a few more minutes of trying to get it out with partial success, you grab more tissues to dry your sweater back off. Ricky stands right behind you, watching you in the mirror as you do. He’s enamored by you. Everything you do draws him closer and closer to you like a magnet. 

Satisfied enough with your work and mostly dry, you turn to throw away the damp tissues. 

“Okay, I think that’s-” the words dry up in your throat when you turn, suddenly face to face with Ricky. Neither of you had realized how close you got in the last few minutes, but now your body heat is mixing and it makes your stomach twist. Your eyes are locked on each other, and the air is pulled from your lungs at the way he looks at you. The atmosphere is suddenly thick with lust, and you can hear a song playing on repeat downstairs. 

His eyes flick between yours and your lips, bringing butterflies to your stomach. His hand rests gently on your waist as he finally leans in to kiss you. It’s sweet for a few seconds, then it melts into tongue and teeth and breathy sighs. Before you can fully turn around and hop onto the counter to let him stand between your legs, he’s kissing down your neck. You sigh at the feeling, bracing yourself on the counter, and he wants to make you moan. He wants to make you whine and scratch his back like you do, he wants it more than anything right now. 

His hands run along your back, down your hips and thighs, leaning into you. He reaches the bottom of your skirt, slipping his fingertips under and inching the fabric up. He squeezes your hips while he sucks dark bruises into your neck. All the noises, the soft little sighs and halted breaths are making him want to touch you more and more. 

His hands on your thighs and mouth on your neck are making you dizzy. You want him even more, and find yourself grinding your hips back against him. He lets out a hiss, and you can feel him harden against your ass. Your eyes flick up to his in the mirror, lingering on how flushed you're making his cheeks just by grinding against him. He catches your gaze,  noticing the way you smirk at every sigh he lets out. 

“Oh,” he mutters into your neck. His tone is playful as he gets dangerously close to your ear. “That’s how you wanna play…” He nips your neck before finally sliding his hand between your thighs. His fingertips brush against your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot that’s already formed on the fabric. When he dips his fingertips between your folds, he can’t believe how wet you are already. It makes his head spin, as he slowly pushes into your entrance. After just a few pumps, sticky beads of arousal are already dripping down his fingers. He lets out a shuddering breath at the sensation. The noises you’re making, both your moans and the wet sounds of your walls around him, make his head spin. After a few minutes, you’re holding back whines. You need more, leaning onto the counter and sticking your ass out. It’s not a hard cue to pick up on, and he’s quick to grab a condom from his wallet. He pumps himself a few more times before slowly pushing in. You both choke back a moan as you squeeze around him. He feels his head grow fuzzy at the euphoric feeling of your bumpy walls squeezing around him, and it feels like being welcomed home. He braces against the counter with one arm, the other wrapping around your hips, holding you close to him as he thrusts into you. 

His face is right next to yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your cheek as he pants at the sensations wracking through you. He squeezes you tighter, and the pressure against your lower stomach has you choking out a moan, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Fuck-” you moan, trying your hardest not to be too loud. Everyone else should be downstairs, but you’re sure anyone nearby would be able to tell what’s going on. Ricky’s staring at you in the mirror. He tries to look away, tries to bury his face in your neck and press his nose to your skin but he can’t. You look so beautiful fucked out like this, so ethereal with your eyes clouded with lust. He can’t believe he made you like this, it’s all from him, from his touch.

Your expression, the noises tumbling from your pretty lips he’s just itching to kiss are better than any porn, because you’re the one making them. Everything is better with you. It always is. You’re whining, begging for him, and you feel the vibrations of his voice as he moans right next to your ear. You feel so good, you touch him so sweetly in a way he didn’t even know was possible before he met you. He’s so close, and by the way you’re squeezing and pulsing around him, gripping tight onto his arm, you’re not far behind him. 

He holds you closer, adding more blissful pressure against your lower stomach, leaning into you even more. His other hand moves from bracing you both against the counter to rub your swollen clit, sending jolts of electricity and pleasure through you. He’s been hitting that spot inside you over and over, and it’s more than enough to send you over the edge. You hold onto him for dear life, legs shaking  as you hit an intense high, your cum beginning to drip down your thighs. You throb and pulse around him milking as his hips push and stutter into yours. 

“Fuck fuck fuck-” he babbles into your ear, against your skin, “shit, I…” 

“Oh god, Ricky,” you pant, distracting him from the words that had come up as suddenly as his high. You have his full attention, looking prettier than ever.  He keeps his mouth busy, kissing and sucking your neck, running his tongue over your skin. 

A few minutes later, you’re cleaning yourselves up and trying to fix your clothes. You’ve been up here for a while, and with how loud you got toward the end, you’re sure someone is going to have a few questions. Ricky wraps up the tied off condom in tissues and shoves it deep into the garbage can, hoping no one will find it. You start to make your way downstairs, Ricky keeping his hand on your waist to help you when your legs wobble. In spite of your best efforts, you know it’s obvious - anyone could take one look at you and know what’s going on. You don’t mind in theory, figuring it’s only a matter of time before someone puts the pieces together, but the last thing either of you need right now is more drama. 

“Hey!” Seb exclaims, bumping into you on the way back to the living room, holding two drinks. “What took you so long?” he smiles. There’s not a thought behind his eyes, and you’re pretty confident he didn’t pick up on anything between you and Ricky. You look to each other reflexively, smiling nervously. 

“Oh, uh…” you start, fumbling for an answer. “Just cleaning up.” Not technically a lie, so that works. Ricky laughs, a blush still present on his cheeks. 

“Yeah, we started talking about the show and we just…” he suppresses another giggle, “got distracted.”  He keeps looking over at you, staring at your pretty face. He can’t help it. You’re glowing in the warm lighting, the glow of the fake candles scattered around other autumnal decorations. 

“Well, come on, we’re about to start playing board games!” Seb says with an excited shrug, before returning to the rest of your friends. You nudge Ricky playfully. 

“Real smooth,” you tease, at his lovestruck gaze. He laughs and nudges you back.

“I guess I need to get better at improv. Maybe you can tutor me?” He leans into you as he speaks, living for the flustered expression on your face. You laugh and nudge him again, knowing your friends could walk around the corner and see you two like this at any minute. His gaze lingers. 

You finally enter the living room, and before you can sit next to him, Ricky pulls you into his lap. Everyone’s crowded around the coffee table where Carlos has the game set up - it’s even High School Musical themed, which is really amazing - so you’re sure the lack of space is at least some justification for where you're perched, why his arms are wrapped around you like that.  

“Okay,” Carlos says, a small smile appearing on his face, “...you two, pick a team. Knights or Wildcats.” 

You and Ricky reflexively share a look again. 

“Uh… Knights.” he says, arbitrarily. 

“I’ll be on his team,” you say. 

“Alright,” Carlos says, and begins explaining the rules. Ricky tries to suppress the smile, the warm feeling swirling and puffing up his chest at your words. You want to be on his team. He tries to pay attention to Carlos, but it’s so hard when you’re so close to him like this. He thinks that aside from the rocky start, this is the best way to start off the holidays. He can’t think of anywhere better to be than holding you, still a little blissed out, and having a great time with all your friends. 

Your thumb brushing over the back of his hand, you’re trying not to space out too. You’ve been having a great time tonight, but you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. You let out a sigh, trying your best to ignore it, to stay present with your friends, with Ricky. It doesn’t matter now, you remind yourself, if anything bad does happen, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. But for now, you’re going to have a nice night with your friends, and stop stressing about what could happen next.

[furbyloveb0t]

oh my god i was writing this whole big thing but Tumblr glitched so i have to rewrite it again. YAY. /sarcasm

anyways, i don’t want anyone to feel like i’m bragging or trying to flex my new acquisition. my relationship with computers/laptops has been ever changing since my childhood and i just wanted to document some of the devices i’ve used in the past. this laptop will be my first ever personal computer/laptop that is JUST FOR ME.

- my first computer was a secondhand gaming PC my dad purchased from a coworker. my dad, mom, brother and i all used it. my dad used it for working from home, so i didn’t really have much access to it during the week (except after 5pm). my brother and i spent countless hours playing ROBLOX, Minecraft, Pet Pet Park, Club Penguin, and basically any game I could get my hands on. it ran Windows 7 and it’s still my favorite OS. a really cool thing is that Windows 7 didn’t require a virtual box to play old/retro games. it automatically just made itself compatible with the game, which was great because i was still using it when i was 11 and getting into retro/older games (SimTown, Roller Coaster Tycoon, Captain Bible, Zoombinis, etc.). my dad took it in the divorce then eventually donated it lol. still mad about that.

- i had some access to a lot of laptops over the years, but they were my parents’. they both worked from home a lot (my dad has done so for the past 15 years) so obviously having a stable PC/laptop was important. most of them were low quality, due to my mom and brother and i’s lack of computer knowledge back then. one in particular could barely run Spotify, ON A GOOD DAY. it was basically impossible to play any games except Club Penguin and Movie Star Planet. ROBLOX was a headache. Minecraft wasn’t even considered an option.

- when i was in middle school, they gave everyone my grade or older in the district access to Chromebooks. this was great, but obviously i couldn’t play any games. everything was limited. when i got grounded i’d use the school email to email my friends haha. i couldn’t customize it at all, and stuff such as YouTube was even blocked. i gave this back the end of my senior year.

- i purchased an iPad maybe a year and a half ago now. i’ve been using it as my laptop up until this point, but obviously some stuff just isn’t formatted for iPad. i love my iPad to death and use it to draw, play ROBLOX, play Minecraft, watch YouTube, write, etc. there is nothing wrong with my iPad, there are just so many games out there i want to play but are PC/console only.

- my brother got a gaming PC for Christmas a few years back, and it was supposed to be for both him and i. it has not worked out this way. it’s a fantastic gaming PC, especially for around $500, but he is on it all the fucking time. eight hours a day during the summer, probably about four hours a day during the school year. i have to beg him to use it, because my mom isn’t interested in getting in between our fights about it. i am so so so excited to finally be able to use my own laptop. i am so happy it’s unbelievable.

ALSO, i just want to note that i am grateful for every laptop/computer i’ve ever had access to. i know a lot of people don’t even have one laptop or computer, much less one of their own, and i am glad my family is in a place where we can buy these things. however, owning my own personal PC/laptop has been a dream of mine since i was a kid. the customization, the freedom of being able to download however many games you want because you no longer have to share space, i am so excited. i will take pictures of it when i get home from the store, dw. i am so so so excited. thank you for everyone who helped give me advice on what brand/specs i should be looking for. thank you world. thank you universe.

oh my god guys i get the gaming laptop soon I AM SO EXCITED

[winter-soldier-vibes]

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

-------------

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

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