#my ask is closed bc of spam but I'm always open to respond to an @ or a reply on a post

[confused-android]

Day 13, Todd - Family

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Amanda: hey, what time are you showing up at mom and dad's on tuesday? (7:02PM)

Todd: For what? Why would I go to their house? (7:05PM)

Amanda: …for hannukah? they sent out the invite three weeks ago, asshole. check your fucking email (7:10PM)

Todd switches apps on his phone and opens his Gmail account. The only things in his inbox are bills and spam. He looks in his spam folder, and even checks his agency account, just in case they had, for some reason, found that email address and sent him an email there.

Nothing.

He searches both accounts for his mom's email address, and finds only the last email she'd sent him, before all of this shit went down. Before he'd told Amanda the truth, and she'd told their parents. Before he was on the FBI's Most Wanted list for almost three months. Before they opened the agency.

From: Debora Brotzman <deb.b.brotzman@zmail.com> Date: 4/8/16 2:14 PM To: Todd Brotzman <theodore.brotzman@zmail.com> Subject: Visiting Mandy?

Hey sweetie, it's MOM. Mandy said she's feeling better this week – are you going to visit her? Call me when you get there, if you can!  :-) Dad found a place to give him an interview, even with his knee, so send him some love and prayers! :-) I miss you, you're doing great.

Love, MOM <3 (Mandy says this is a heart, but in case you can't tell, imagine I put a heart there!)

He hadn't called her on that visit – all of his attention was taken up by Dirk, and it felt weirdly vulnerable to call his mother in front of some weird stranger. After that visit to Amanda, he'd been a little too busy to call her during the Patrick Spring case, and then he was afraid calling her would be trackable, and would bring the FBI down on his and Farah's heads. And since getting back to Seattle… Well, he's tried calling his parents a few times, and sent them an email over the high holidays, but they haven't responded.

He knows why, but it's just been easier to pretend that they were busy, to let Amanda send him occasional messages when she visited home, to imagine that they just… hadn't gotten around to responding to his lengthy apology email.

That strategy doesn't seem to be possible, here.

Todd: No email. (7:43PM)

Amanda: you sure? (7:44PM)

Todd: Yeah. (7:46PM)

Amanda doesn't respond and Todd slumps back into the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. This was… this was utterly predictable. He knew this was coming as far back as Amanda's first Pararibulitis attack, and this is what he knew would happen if they ever found out, and he can't pretend that they're just busy any more. He hasn't been invited home for the family Hanukkah celebration. He's not family any more.

This is the natural consequences of his actions, and he isn't even sure if he deserves to feel miserable.

Fuck.

Why does this suck so much? It's not like he was close with them, anyway. Not for a lack of effort on his parents' behalf, of course. That last email from his mom is typical. Just that it's hard to want to spend time with people you hurt, you're hurting, even if they don't know it. He kept hanging with Amanda because she needed him, and he needed to keep trying to make up for how shitty he was, but there was no way that he could ever save up enough to pay his parents back for years of – of stealing from and lying to them. So spending time with them, talking to them beyond occasional five minute phone call and a yearly awkward hanukkah gathering, never really happened.

Does this even matter? Should it matter?

Of course it matters. It's a punishment from his parents, for being awful to them. He's supposed to feel like shit.

Well, that's successful, then.

Dirk and Farah are out at some kind of trivia night thing, and Todd is honestly kind of relieved. He's not sure if he can handle them right now. Not in a bad way. Just that, Farah wants to be comforting but isn't ever really sure how, and Dirk is sure that he knows how to be comforting but rarely succeeds, and Todd always has to pretend that he feels very comforted by whichever of them has drawn the short straw to hang out with him when he's miserable, and he doesn't really feel like pretending right now.

His phone dings.

Amanda: i texted mom. (8:12PM)

Todd: …? (8:14PM)

Amanda: she said it wasn't an accident (8:20PM)

Todd: I figured *shrug emoji* (8:22PM)

Amanda: i feel kind of weird about this, tbh? (8:24PM)

Amanda: like, i'm still pissed at you, but you know that, and we're working on it (8:24PM)

Amanda: and i told mom that and she said that you emailed her for yk and apologized and that she didn't respond (8:24PM)

Amanda: and that sounds shitty of her? (8:25PM)

Amanda: but also you were shitty (8:26PM)

Amanda: like, really shitty (8:26PM)

Todd: I know that. I was shitty. And she doesn't have to respond to me. (8:27PM)

Amanda: it just feels weird bc she's our mom (8:31PM)

Todd: Yeah. (8:32PM)

Todd: I'm… having some feelings about it. (8:32PM)

Amanda: well i guess i'm proud of you for having feelings? idk (8:33PM)

Amanda: do you want me to not go? (8:37PM)

Todd: No! (8:37PM)

Todd: No, no. Go spend Hanukkah with mom and dad. I'm bummed, but I'll be fine.  (8:37PM)

Todd: I'll try emailing them again next Yom Kippur, I guess. That always seemed to mean something to dad. (8:39PM)

Amanda: that could work (8:40PM)

Amanda: idk (8:40PM)

Todd: I don't know either, if it helps. This sucks, but I knew it was coming, I guess. (8:42PM)

Amanda: :/  (8:45PM)

Todd: :/ (8:46PM)

Todd drops his phone on the coffee table and stands up, shoves his hands through his hair, and sits right back down. Then he stands up again, because while he has no idea what to do with himself, he at least wants to not know what to do somewhere other than the couch. He looks in the fridge without taking anything out of it, contemplates and rejects the idea of a shower, and then grabs the pipe and lighter from his dresser and climbs out the kitchen window and on to the fire escape. He leans up against the side of the building and shivers as a gust of December air hits his neck and seeps in through the fabric of his hoodie.

"Fuck," he says, voice lost in the night, and cups the bowl in one hand and lights it with the other. He takes a long inhale. The smoke floods his lungs and he tops it off with clean, cold air, then holds the breath for a beat before exhaling. He lets the smoke drift away and sits with the scent lingering in his nose before taking a second hit, and then a third. He taps the ash out through the grate next to him, shoves the pipe and lighter back into his hoodie pocket, and thumps his head back against the brick.

It's hard to not feel like a complete piece of shit when your parents have disowned you. Like, the people who are supposed to love and care for you no matter what just don't want to see you for the holidays? That's pretty bad.

He knows that it's not like he doesn't deserve it – he did a horrible thing. Like, a really horrible thing. The kind of thing that gets you disowned by your parents. But it… it really sucks. This whole situation sucks. And it's a situation he made, which means that he sucks.

It's cold outside. Not quite freezing, but not that far above it, either, and his hoodie isn't quite cutting it. He doesn't go inside, though. If he goes inside, he'll check his phone and reread the conversation with Amanda, and have to start thinking about it all over again. So he just stays on the fire escape, buries his chin in the collar of his hoodie, and tries to think about anything other than his parents choosing to ignore him, and not see him for the holidays.

"Fuck," he says again. And that seems to sum it up.

Todd loses track of how long he spends on the fire escape, but it's long enough that he's not really cold any more, just trembling slightly, when the door to the apartment bangs closed.

"Shit," Dirk swears, his voice drifting through the window. "It's bloody freezing in here."

"The window's open," Farah adds, baffled, and then says, "Todd?"

"Todd!" Dirk echoes, his voice a little louder than hers.

"I'm out –" Todd coughs, then tries again. "I'm out here! Sorry!"

He can hear some bustling and movement from inside, and then a long leg sticks through the open window and taps around, looking for the floor, and is then quickly followed by a body. Dirk steps out of the way for Farah, who is altogether more graceful when exiting the building, and they both look down at him, separate expression of confusion on their faces.

"Why are you out here?" Dirk asks bluntly.

Farah shakes her head and puts on hand on Dirk's shoulder, asks, "how long have you been out here?"

Todd shrugs. "Maybe since nine? I'm not sure. What time is it?"

"It's almost ten," Farah says, and crouches down in front of him. "What the hell, Todd?"

"I'm sorry," he says, too tired to really get riled up, or even defensive. "I didn't know what time it was. I left my phone inside."

"Will you, um. Come inside now?" Farah tries, and looks up at Dirk for back-up. Dirk has a funny expression on his face, though, and steps around both of them. He sinks to the floor next to Todd and wiggles up close, until they're pressed together at the shoulder and hip. "Dirk!" Farah exclaims.

"Come on," Dirk says, and gestures to the floor on the other side of Todd. She opens her mouth like she's going to object again, but then something on Todd's face, or on Dirk's face, seems to speak to her, and she scoots back a bit and tips off her heels and down to sitting. Farah holds still for a long moment, steeling herself with a deep breath, then presses against Todd's other side. The brick at his back and the metal grate under his ass are still cold, but his two best friends are warm on either side of him. For a moment, at least, he feels like he has family.

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Link to: day one, Farah - Youth day two, Farah - Dance day three, Farah - Gore day four, Farah - GNC fashion day five, Farah - AU day six, Farah - Family (to be written) day seven, Farah - Pride (to be written) day eight, Todd - Youth (to be written) day nine, Todd - Dance (to be written) day ten, Todd - Gore day eleven, Todd - GNC Fashion day twelve, Todd - AU

prompt list

[little-owly]

(1/?)Ok, I'm sorry this is gonna spam your inbox, I wanna write you a story based on the mat//pat picture you drew but I need to be on anon... Hope you like it!

HECK OH MY GOSH ITS ADORABLE!! I EDITED IT TO FIT HERE but as a suggestion -- and i think you had tumblr hit you with an ask limit bc it stopped so suddenly, using the submit would be much easier and you can be anon if you just send it to me and let me know!! BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN AAAAA I LOVE FICS WHERE I OR MY BLOG IS MENTIONED!! SO MUCH!!***Matthew was crying again. He'd been doing that on and off for the past week since everything fell to pieces, and nothing seemed to help him. His latest theory had once again turned him into the joke of the Internet, this time on an impossibly larger scale, and he was receiving constant abuse with almost every comment on his videos. To make matters worse, he was scheduled to make an appearance at a convention the very same week it happened, and several people thought it would be funny to start throwing food at him! A long bubble bath had done nothing to remove the stains now marring his self-confidence, and now here he was, crying in bed into his Peepachu toy, the last safe thing he had left in his life... He barely heard the knocking on the front door, and even when he did, it took all his strength to drag himself over to open it - but he was glad he managed it. His good friend Mark was standing there, looking extremely worried about him. "Oh, h-hey Mark. What's up?" Mat mumbled, trying not to sound as exhausted as he felt and failing miserably. "I saw what happened at the con today, and I wanted to see how you were doing, I had no idea it'd gotten this bad..." Mark was looking at him with such concern, concern Mat was sure he didn't deserve anymore, and suddenly he had collapsed into Mark's arms and was sobbing into the other man's shoulder helplessly, being held tight by strong arms that felt like they'd never let go... "Look, why don't you come stay with me for a few days, buddy? You could use a friend, and honestly, you don't like you've been taking care of yourself..." Mark's voice was low and soothing, and Mat found he couldn't think of anything he'd like more. Five minutes and one small packed bag later - he didn't need much, Mark always let his friends borrow his clothes whenever they were staying over - and they were headed back, the radio playing quietly in the background. Mark didn't say much on the journey back, somehow understanding that Mat wasn't up to casual chit-chat right now. Mat spent not only the car ride there, but the next few days in forlorn silence, simply biting at his thumbnail to try and soothe himself - having his thumb up at his mouth was oddly comforting, but he didn't have the energy to think about why right now. The only thing he could bring himself to do was dig through the Internet and try to find something, anything, positive that had been said about him - a difficult and nearly fruitless search. How could so many people suddenly hate him all at once? He even resorted to digging through the more explicit fanart that he usually avoided, desperate to find anyone who had even a scrap of fondness left for him... That was how he stumbled upon the odd picture. He'd never tried to brave a kink blog before, but his online wanderings had brought him to one that day, and he was feeling so low that he didn't think it could get much worse. The blog had only mentioned him a few admittedly, that had felt nice. But he started to imagine himself in the picture, being small and cared for, having someone help him whenever things felt too hard. If he closed his eyes, he could picture himself perched on the soft plastic, knees tucked up to his chest, a voice that sounded just like Mark's telling him what a good boy he was... "Mat? What are you doing?" Wait, that WAS Mark's voice! Mat squeaked in shock and opened his eyes quickly, dropping his phone from the fright. Mark bent down to pick it up before Mat had the chance, and saw what he was looking at. "Oh boy, you found THAT blog..." He chuckled. "Yeah, I've seen it too, it's got some pretty unusual stuff..." "Do you... Think it's weird?" Mat whispered, heart suddenly pounding in fear. If Mark realised he liked one of the pictures and decided he was too weird... "Not really, I kinda like it - I'm not into everything, but the stuff about me taking care of some of my friends... It's kinda nice, I sorta like the idea of taking care of a little, I guess... Sorry, I know that's probably too much information. What about you?" Mark asked quickly, now blushing slightly. Mat found he suddenly didn't have words, so instead just showed Mark the 'potty picture' as he called it, once again lifting his thumb to his mouth. Mark looked confused for a moment, but then his eyes lit up in delight, and he smiled at Mat in a way he usually reserved for his younger fans. "Do you wanna try and use the potty, Matty?" Mark's voice was soft and playful, and a little more condescending than usual, as though he wasn't sure whether he should make this a joke or take it seriously. Personally, Matty wanted him to talk like that forever! Without thinking, he began to respond to the question with a shake of his head, but then Mark brushed a hand across his tummy and he realised he maybe possibly hadn't gone pee in quite a while, and he quickly switched to a nod. Mark smiled even bigger at that, and quickly pulled him to his feet, leading him into the bathroom then stopping at the door. "OK Matty, how do you wanna do this?" He asked carefully. Matty looked at him in confusion and opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but his eye suddenly caught the little training potty sitting on the floor next to the big potty, almost the same as the one in the potty picture! Mark was explaining something about a new skit video about childproofing his house, but Matty wasn't really listening