#How to make a dcf

[ask-dcf]

Oi data! What're ya readin'?

*Shift!Chara looks over confused seeing him start answering things again*

*Shift!Chara sighs and speaks up*

[david-lynch-ate-my-son]

season 3 of animal kingdom is RIPE for a pope cody marriage of convenience storyline.

DCFS placing lena in foster care? smurf angling to adopt lena as a means to control pope because the state will never allow her to go him with his prison record?

well, lucky for pope there's a sweet, pretty, upstanding pillar of society who has lived right next door to lena since before catherine "disappeared."

and boy does she love lena something fierce. after all, she's been babysitting her for years. is the one cathy always called when there was a last minute shift at work and fuck knows where baz is. the one who taught lena to make a macrame friendship bracelet; bought her the dolphin squishmallow she sleeps with every night; dried her tears after cathy left and baz was too busy fucking someone new to be there for his own goddamn daughter.

there's a reason lena calls her tia.

and yeah, maybe pope isn't a perfect guardian, but she's seen how fiercely he loves that kid. how he'd flay himself open for her.

and she did a stint in foster care herself as a kid--it was the worst year of her life. she can't imagine that for lena.

so blame it on the romance books she reads, or the fact that she's had a tiiiiiiny crush on her neighbor's brother since the first time he came around to visit (and she literally ran into him on the sidewalk, sweaty and out of breath from her morning run, and he steadied her with a strong hand on her elbow).

but when she storms into his house the second DCFS pulls away with lena in the back of their car and blurts out, "we should get married," there's not a single moment of regret.

even when pope stares at her hard, gaze as opaque and unreadable as ever. even when he says, "what"--flatly, not as a question, but as a statement of pure disbelief.

she just cuts him off before he can gather his thoughts enough to realize how insane of an idea it is.

"i don't have so much as a parking ticket on my record. my credit score is 850. every library book i've ever checked out since elementary school, i've returned on time. i've never done a drug in my life--not even weed! i got drunk once in college and fell off a trampoline and broke my arm, but there's no way DCFS could hunt that down, right? i mean, they could probably track down gina from my old dorm--she was the one who took me to the hospital--but i'm sure gina wouldn't say anything, right? plus, i'm a high school teacher, so i've already passed all of the state-required background checks for working with children. i've known lena her entire life--i'm perfect! you may have a spotty legal history, but if you're married to me, there's no way DCFS would say no to at least a temporary placement to adopt!"

and maybe pope would have put up more of a fight if she wasn't so goddamn cute, all red-faced and riled up, stomping into his house in her fuzzy ducky slippers and yelling about her hairbrained scheme.

which, when he actually thinks about it...could work...

[trippinsorrows]

10 things + part three

authors note: after 87 years of waiting, here is the third and final part to this mini series. def struggled with writing it, as i haven't been in the headspace for it, hence why it hasn't been updated in so long. hope it was worth the wait and not a disappointment. ❤️

words: 5k

warnings: angst

part one + part two

***gif belongs to @dejameflorecer ***

It’s been a week.

A week since an already tumultuous relationship went from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

Nova isn’t sure if she’s ever cried as much as she has in the past week. Maybe not since the death of her childhood dog, Sadie, when she was twenty-one. But, this kind of grief is something different. Something heavier and devastating.

Something heartbreaking.

A part of her saw it coming. Nova knew it was only a matter of time before things with RJ and Roman reached a boiling point. The tension and animosity seemed like it grew by the day though something that’s actually existed for years.

The same amount of time she’s worked so hard to fix it. To repair what’s clearly broken. But, it’s always come at a cost. The latest expense, however, is unacceptable. On several fronts.

Roman put his hands on RJ.

He put his hands on their son. Their child. An act that resulted in RJ unintentionally hurting his little sister.

Two of her three children were hurt, in different ways, by their own father.

Nova knows Roman would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt any of their kids, but that doesn’t matter in the face of what’s happened. 

What’s done is done, and she doesn’t know how to move past it.

If that’s even a possibility. 

He’s tried to reach out. Both have. Roman and RJ, but she’s left them both on read for different reasons, only responding with, 'she's fine' with their questions about Bella. Roman hasn’t tried to come home in the past week, and she’s partially grateful, though it breaks her heart just a little when the girls ask about their dad.

When they ask where daddy is.

She has an idea.

Probably staying in the penthouse. 

Or, maybe not.

She struggles between caring and not giving a fuck.

And, her son, via Live 360 shows that he’s been staying with Jey. Unsurprising, to say the least. 

RJ has always been close with the twins, Jey especially. And given how Jey and Roman are on the outs, it only makes sense his estranged son would find escape with an estranged cousin.

Nova has to have an emergency session with her therapist. It’s not life-threatening, and she reiterates there are no safety concerns. She just knows she needs to talk with someone. But, even that conversation is only slightly as helpful as she would like it to be, because Nova omits a lot. Primarily the part where Roman shoved RJ, and Bella got hurt in the process. Things are already bad enough. The last thing Nova needs is DCFS opening an investigation.

She has enough going on in her life.

But, what does come out of that session is a realization. A few, but Nova is taking them one at a time. 

The doorbell ringing pulls her from her thoughts. She takes a deep breath, reminding herself that she can and needs to do this. 

Walking from out the kitchen of her spacious home, she makes her way to the front door, not bothering to look out the peephole.

Opening it, she’s met with the most sheepish expression one could muster.

RJ stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey, mama….”

Instantly, her eyes are watering. As upset she might have been, and still is with her son, that’s her baby boy.

Stepping aside, she motions for him to come in. He does so, keeping an almost careful distance between them. Like, he’s being cautious. 

Looking around, he asks, “where—where are the girls?”

An understandable question. RJ is a good big brother, and the girls adore him. Have missed him the same way they miss their dad. But, they don’t need to be around for this.

“With grandma and grandpa,” she answers. Nova leads them over to the living room where she takes a seat on the big sofa. Junior remains standing, nervous almost. She pats the space next to her. “Take a seat.”

He hesitates, but only for a second. Slowly, he lowers his body onto the sofa, legs semi spread, big foot tapping. A nervous thing, clearly. 

Nova doesn't say anything at first, taking time to gather her words. 

“I’m sorry, mama,” RJ blurts, like holding it any long would be too painful. “I didn't—” He closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I would never hurt Bella or you or Cami or—”

“I know, honey,” she answers in a low voice. “It–it was a mistake.” Because, it was. For all her son’s faults and vices, that is most definitely not one of them.

Same for Roman.

But, that’s another conversation.

“Does she—does she hate me?” A quiet, almost fearful question. 

Nova smiles softly, reaching a hand over. “No, Junior. She doesn’t hate you. She could never hate you.” Because while Bella was understandably upset that night, the following morning, she was asking about her big brother and daddy.

Her little girl could never be mad at the men in her life for too long.

Something she clearly gets from her mother.

Another question. “Do you hate me?”

At that, Nova’s eyes widen. She leans over, taking RJ’s hand in her own. “RJ, I could never hate you, baby. I love you. I was….I was upset with you, yes, but I could never hate you.” The truth. The God’s honest truth. “But, I do—I do need to talk to you.” She swallows, jumping straight to it. “Honey, how do you know about your dad cheating on me?”

Because, in all of the things to come out of that terrible night, that has to be the one thing that’s kept her up the most. 

She’d prepared to go to her grave keeping that secret from her children.

Nova sees the way RJ’s expression shifts. Something cold and solemn. “I heard you crying about it that night.” Her stomach drops. “I was coming to ask you for help with my homework, and I saw you. I saw you crying onto Aunt Naomi’s shoulder.” 

RJ may not realize it, but he’s just taken her back. Taken Nova back to one of the hardest periods of her life. All of the emotions rushing and slamming into her with newfound intensity. She had no idea her son overheard and saw that. No idea he’s been sitting silently on such a thing for years.

It’s been years since that rough patch with her husband. 

“He broke your heart, mama.” She looks away, wiping at her tears. She didn’t realize she still felt so many things from that day. “He cheated on you, broke your heart, and you still took him back.” Her eyes shut, his voice desperate as he asks, “why?”

Nova takes a deep breath. This is the single most difficult conversation she’d both dreaded and never imagined having to have, but here she is. 

There is no escaping it now. 

“RJ…” Eyes closing, heart racing, she forces it out. “I cheated on your dad first.” 

His eyes widen, his jaw partially dropped. He’s stunned. “What?”

Nova forces herself to look over at him, momentarily taken back. It’s like she’s looking at her heartbroken husband all over again. 

She sniffles, wiping her eyes, moving into a well deserved explanation. “I was 23. Your dad was on the road wrestling. And, I was here, working a full time job, taking care of you. We were struggling financially, so he had to be gone. He was trying to help provide for us, and I knew that. But….but, I got lonely, and I—I started to resent that he was gone all the time.” A summarized explanation leaving out a lot of details that, even with RJ knowing about the affairs, Nova knows he doesn’t need to know. “He—” This is the part that she’ll forever regret and never be able to forget for as long as she lives. “He walked in on me and the man in bed, flowers and chocolate in hand. He—he’d come home to surprise you and I.” Her voice cracks, the emotion tipping over. “I’ll never forget how devastated he looked.”

Gutted. He was gutted. Furious but more hurt than anything.

“Sweetie.” Nova presses her lips together, shaking her head. “I broke your dad’s heart first.”

It was the reason she first started going to therapy all those years ago. Because Nova struggled deeply with how she betrayed Roman. How she’d allowed temporary emotions to lead her into making what remains one of the biggest regrets of her life.

RJ is stunned into silence, looking down, bewildered and floored. “I—I can’t—”

“You were right, honey. Your father did cheat on me, and he did break my heart.” Nova can’t and won’t deny that. Two truths can be right in the same universe. Roman was wrong, and so was she. But, they worked hard to move past those two major trust and boundary violations. So hard. “But, I chose to forgive him, because I love him, because he found it in his heart to forgive me, because he loves me.” She reaches over, gently stroking the back of his head. “The same way he loves you.”

He says nothing, clearly still struggling between maintaining his wall, and maybe, just maybe, letting it down just enough. 

“Do you….do you remember how I used to record all your games, and—” A small, silly smile breaks on her face as she recalls her scowling little boy blushing almost from embarrassment. “And, you used to always ask me why I did it? Used to tell me it wasn’t that big a deal?”

He nods, still saying nothing, a frown present on his face.

“Baby…” Her head tilts, that smile growing just a smidge. “I did it, because your dad asked me to.” Junior’s eyes widen once more at yet another bombshell being dropped on him. “And the first thing he did when he got home and had time, he’d watch them. Every single game. From start to finish. Take notes, too.”

RJ looks as breathless as he sounds. “What?” 

“I know….” She sniffles, tears cascading down her face. “I know he wasn’t there a lot when you were younger, and I realize now how that impacted you more than I realized, but sweetheart, he would come home as often as he could. Even if it meant us losing out on money, he would come home, RJ. And, he came because he wanted to see you.”

Another whispered confession from the depths of long buried trauma. “He did?”

Nova tilts her head, a small scoff leaving her mouth. “Roman is….he can be difficult at times.” Difficult feels too much of a simplification, prompting her to explain. “He’s stubborn and hardheaded, and he thinks he knows everything sometimes. If not all of the time, and he was wrong to put his hands on you. You can bet I’ll be talking to him about that.”

Because, she will. Because, Nova cannot see how there’s a way to move past that and act like nothing happened. 

Roman took it too far this time.

Way too far.

“But baby, you can also be stubborn and hardheaded. I know….I know you may not want to hear this, but you’re a lot like your dad, and I think that’s also why you two clash the way you do.” Two titans fighting for dominance. Neither willing to break or back down. 

At least, until now.

“I—” He finally speaks, ending his minutes long silence. “I didn’t know….I always felt….he never acted like….” Roman Jr. struggles to verbalize what is clearly years worth of pain and hurt. And, Nova won’t make him.

She knows exactly what he’s trying to say.

“RJ, in all the years I’ve known and been with your dad, I’ve only seen him cry once, and that was the day you were born.” Nova will never forget the silent tears that ran down Roman's face as he held his son for the first time. He was so happy. “Honey…..” She takes a second to find the right words. “Your dad….he’s always struggled with feelings and emotions and showing them, but I need you to believe me when I tell you that he loves you. He always has, and he always will.” RJ looks away, shutting his eyes. A lone tear escaping. “I know things between you two have been rough, and I’m so sorry if you knowing about the affair has played any role in the deterioration of your relationship, but please don’t let that get in the way of things. You need your dad in your life, and believe me or not, he needs you, too.”

They all need each other, but it starts with them.

Father and son.

It started with them, and it needs to end with them.

—--------

Roman was just readying to head out. He was doing his best to respect the space Nova clearly wanted, but being away from his girls was becoming too much. She graciously replied to only one of his many texts, simply sharing that Bella was okay.

Nothing else. 

And, it wasn’t that Roman didn’t understand the distance she was placing between them. He fully did, but it didn’t negate the fact that he missed his family. He misses his family. 

He needs to see them.

He needs to see all his kids and speak to them, but one step at a time.

Keys in hand, Roman opens the door at the same time his entire body stills.

“Junior….”

Sure enough, his oldest stands before him, expression clearly torn. A similar experience to what Roman himself has felt the past week.

RJ swallows, gesturing inside the penthouse. “Are—are you busy?”

Roman takes a second to respond, surprised as all hell by the last person he expected to see. The last person he expected to want to see him.

“No….no….come…come in.”

Roman steps aside, and his son does just as such. Closing and locking the door, Roman watches RJ walk over and sit on the sofa, legs spread, hands clasped together as he stares at the expensive rug. 

For a moment, Roman stands unsure of what to do. Lord knows he has no idea what to fucking say. He was prepared to plead to and with his wife. Not his oldest son.

Not yet, at least.

Nevertheless, he finds himself sitting on the sofa, opposite of RJ, that tension previously felt between them at any given point suddenly melted into something almost unidentifiable. He doesn’t know what exactly it is. Just that it feels different.

Finally, Roman realizes he’s the one that needs to break this. In more ways than one. “Junior—”

“Mama told me what happened.”

Roman frowns, confused and lost. “About?”

He watches RJ swallow. “The affairs.” Roman’s back straightens. He’s most definitely wondered about that part of RJ’s angry outburst all week. Just how he knew. But, that’s suddenly less concerning in the face of what was just said. “How…how she cheated on you first, and you forgave her.”

The older man nods. “I did.”

RJ looks up. “How you cheated on her, and she forgave you.”

Roman swallows. “She did.” An act of grace and mercy Roman will forever be grateful for. Always. “Son….” Roman pauses, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared for this, hadn’t gone over what he wanted to say if and when this moment came. But, sitting across from his firstborn, he’s realizing it’s less about preparation and more about honesty.

He needs to speak from the heart.

It’s time for all this to stop.

“I’m not a perfect man, and I never will be.” Roman does his best to keep his words clear, concise, and to the point. “I’ve hurt you, hurt your mom, hurt my family over the years, and I can’t….I can’t change that. I can’t take back what I’ve done, even though I’d give anything to. You…you have no idea.” He pauses, his own emotions taking a front seat. “I—I always said I would never be anything like my father. He’s a coldhearted bastard who only cares about power, success, and performance. Always told me I needed to be the best and anything less was unacceptable.” Roman runs his hand over his face, revisiting a long ago memory. “The day you were born was both the happiest and scariest fucking day of my life. I—I swore to you that day that I’d always be there for you, that I’d be a good dad to you, and that hasn’t happened.” His eyes shut, glazed over with vulnerability and accountability. “And, I’m sorry, son. I am so fucking sorry.”

RJ looks away, clearly overwhelmed by all of the emotions and unexpected confessions the day has brought. But, it’s time, and he knows it. Time to let go of the hurt, of the pain. It’s time to be honest.

“Mama told me….she told me you were the one who wanted her to record my games. That you…that you watched them.” He shakes his head, finally looking over at his father, also with unshed tears in his eyes. “All these years, I’ve been so upset with you, so angry with you. Because I thought you hurt mom, and I thought you didn’t care. Because….because you weren’t there, and I wanted you to be…to be proud of me.” He swallows, jaw clenching from the heaviness of it all. “I wanted….” His voice breaks. “I wanted my dad to love me.”

Roman’s exterior completely shatters. “Junior….”

Without thinking or even overthinking it, Roman stands and moves to sit next to his son, not wasting a single second to pull him into a hug.

A hug that RJ, for the first time in years, reciprocates.

Roman cradles the back of his head, offering the sort of comfort that his son has wanted for years. The love he’s craved. “Son, I’ve loved you since the day you were born. I’ve always loved you, and I always will.” A vow. A promise. Something that can and will never be broken. Not from this day forward. “And, I am so proud of you.” 

RJ’s eyes clench shut. 

Years.

For years, he’s wanted and craved for so long.

Something he’s had the entire time.

“You’re a fine young man, RJ.” Roman compliments, pulling back, hand gently on the back of his son’s neck. “A better man than I could ever be, and I’m sorry for the role I’ve played in your hurt. I’m gonna do better. By you. By your mom. By your sisters. All of you. I promise.”

Roman has a lot of work to do. He knows this. This one conversation, as heartfelt and vulnerable as it is, can’t undo years of damage and trauma. There’s a long road ahead, but it’s a road he’s willing to travel on.

A journey to healing he’s more than ready to make. 

—-----

Despite the unexpected appearance of his son at his doorstep, and the vulnerable conversation that followed, Roman still found his way back to the house.

He has to.

For a week, he’s suffered, as deserved, reliving the incident in his head like a bad song on repeat. He fucked up. A line was crossed that had never been crossed, and while he can’t blame Nova for icing him out, the truth remains that that’s still his wife. Those are his daughters. His son. 

His family.

He has to make things right. 

Or, at least, try. 

He’s certain Nova looked through the peephole before answering, because her usual greeting of “who is it?” is bypassed and traded with the door being swung open. And, there she stands, looking just as beautiful as she always has. 

But, there’s a sadness about her eyes that makes him frown. A sadness because of him.

Nova eyes him up and down. “You talked to RJ?” It’s not a question, not with the almost declaratory nature of her tone. Still, he feels obligated to at least reply.

“Yeah,” he answers.

She continues to look at him before closing the door behind her and walking over to the wooden bench on their porch. He’s prepared to remain standing when she pats the space next to her. 

He obliges.

She’s quiet, Roman able to tell she’s deep in thought, hence him not saying anything. Just giving her the space to think and speak, when ready.

“Roman, what happened….what happened was not okay.” She starts off, hands planted on her thighs. Nova looks at him. “You lost your temper, but not even that, you lost your temper with our son, and Bella got hurt in the process.”

He closes his eyes. She’s not saying anything he doesn’t already know. Nothing he hasn’t mentally berated himself over for the past week. As he deserves. But, there’s something about hearing her say it aloud, the devastation in her voice, that makes it that much worse. It twists the knife.

“I know,” is all he can say. He won’t make excuses. There are none to make.

“You’ve had an anger problem since we were kids, Roman. But, it’s never….” She trails off, looking away and taking a deep breath. “You need help.”

“You’re right,” he swallows. She’s always been right. He’s just been too stubborn and headstrong to see and/or acknowledge it. “I should have never put my hands on him. It should have never reached that point, but it did, and I’m so sorry, Nova. What happened was fucked up and not okay.” She glances over at him, Roman having to fight back the urge to wipe away her tears. “I haven’t been the husband you deserve or the father I need to be for our kids, and I’ve realized the only way that can change is if I get the help I need.”

All truthful, painful, almost embarrassing confession from a man who’s gradually come to realize the extent and depth of damage he’s done. Somewhere along the way, Roman lost himself. Lost sight of what was most important, and it’s caused him to land exactly where he is.

Practically begging for another chance.

“RJ….RJ told me….told me that you two talked,” she finally speaks after a good minute. “He—he said that you’re going to try to work on your relationship. That….that you asked him to think about doing family therapy with you.”

Roman nods. “I did.”

She casts him a leveled look. “Did you mean it though?”

An easy answer, probably the easiest he’s given all day. “Yes.”

Roman doesn’t necessarily like the idea of therapy. He’s done it before, but still. Feelings and emotions, and talking about them, have never been the easiest for him. But, what he wants more than anything is to repair his relationship with the people he loves the most, and if this is the way to do that, then he’ll do it ten times over.

“And what about individual therapy?” She’s probing, prying to see where his headspace is and how far he’s willing to go to right all his many wrongs.

“That too,” he agrees. “Whatever….whatever I have to do, Nova. I’ll do. I love you. I love our kids, and I love our family. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this, and I know it starts with me. Nova….” He reaches for her hand, her emotional gaze on him. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness, baby. I know I have to earn that. I have a lot to earn back….” He trails off but never breaks their eye contact. “I’m just asking for another chance.”

Nova doesn’t answer right away, and he doesn’t expect her to. He knows that sometimes she has to sit and think on things. That the gravity of the situation may require additional time. And, he’ll give her that. He’ll give her all the space she needs, because he owes her that much and so much more.

“The girls have missed you.”

But, have you?

Roman has to stop himself from actually asking her. 

“I’ve missed them, too.” 

I’ve missed you.

Nova takes a deep breath. “I think we should go to marriage counseling again.”

Yet another thing they’re on the same page with. They attended two times prior, both times to process and work through the affairs. Roman found it helpful then. He’s sure he’ll find it helpful now.

“I agree.”

She nods, looking at their conjoined hands, the sun peaking past and under the gable roof reflecting off her wedding ring and his wedding band. “I—I want your focus to primarily be on RJ. That has to be worked on, Roman, if this is going to work.”

“I know.” More agreement of a truth he can’t deny anymore. “I’m gonna make it right, Nova.”

She stares at him, looks at him in a way no one else but she can. Like, she can read him better than he can read himself. “You can come back home.” Roman closes his eyes, a massive wave of relief and joy coming over him. “But, I swear to God, Roman, if you ever put your hands on my son again, this marriage is over. I will divorce your ass so fast, and not only will I get sole custody of the girls, any visits you have with them will be supervised only.” She finishes her firm, assertive declaration with a pointed look. “Do you understand me?”

The thought of such a situation guts Roman. He would never hurt his daughters. Ever. Will forever regret shoving his son. And, he knows good and well as much as Nova might love him, she’s a mother first. Their kids will always be her first priority, as they should be. He respects that. Immensely.

“I understand,” he acknowledges. Roman runs his thumb over her knuckles. “Thank you.”

Nova doesn’t say anything. She just motions to the door. “The girls are in there with Junior.”

Her answer surprises him. He wondered who was watching their daughters while they spoke, but he assumed her parents were over. “Yeah?”

She nods, standing up. She offers her hand, prompting him to stand as well. “Come on.” 

Roman wordlessly follows her inside of their home, gently squeezing her hand as she calls out, “girls! Daddy’s home!”

The sound of his girls giggling and making sounds of excitement is accompanied by her squeezing his hand back.

A start.

It’s a start.

—---------

The Raw premiere on Netflix is major.

A groundbreaking, memorable occasion worthy of all the lights, glamour, and action. It’s a make or break night for Roman, the night where it’s decided, once and for all, who the real Tribal Chief is.

Nova and her girls are in attendance. A night so big that she can’t afford to miss it, won’t allow it to pass without her showing up to support her husband. 

In the months since the blowup, a lot has occurred. Nova’s ultimatum of sorts with her husband proved effective. He found a therapist and has been attending weekly consistently. They’re also in couples counseling. Not to mention, he and RJ have also been attending weekly therapy together, though virtual, what with Junior away at school and Roman’s schedule being hectic.

There have been some really great times and some tense times, but overall, Nova can see it. Can feel it. Can feel the healing that’s occurring. There are still a ways to go, especially between her son and husband, but they’re not where they were, and that’s all that matters. 

They’re moving in the right direction. 

Finally.

It’s a tense, violent match. 

Nova is on the edge of her seat the entire time, a bit unsurprised and grateful that her daughters are tuned in mostly to their tablets instead of their daddy fighting. Too many times where Solo is close to pinning Roman for her liking, but the whole thing has just been too close for her liking. Matches always make her nervous, and the absence of her son doesn’t help.

Roman invited RJ, as did Nova, but he never gave a solid answer.

It definitely hurt, both herself and her husband, but she could understand why.

There’s still a lot of grounds for those two to cover, and RJ’s speed at which he progresses on this new path is something that can’t be rushed.

She won’t pressure him.

He has to do this at his own pace.

Though, she can’t deny the bittersweet sensation that fills her when Roman makes the pin, when that 3 is finally achieved, signifying that her husband is the one and only Tribal Chief. The true Head of the Table. The OTC.

As proud as she is of him, of the long, hard battles he’s faced to get this point, not being able to share the moment with their firstborn is rough.

But, she braves a smile and blows a kiss to him, holding Cami, pointing to Roman who continues to take in the thunderous applause. Bella stands on the chair next to her, holding onto her dress while also pointing a finger in the air, matching the other attendees.

It dims her sadness just a bit.

However, it’s when the sounds of the crowd shift, and she turns her focus to the ramp that her stomach drops.

She sees Dwayne, Roman's cousin, but she also sees someone else.

She sees RJ.

“The Rock is heading down the ramp, and he’s accompanied by Roman Reigns’ son, RJ Reigns!” She can briefly overhear the commentary, sees the gasp and shock of the crowd. But, it’s the two of them moving into the ring as well as Roman’s unsure expression that has her focus. 

Dwayne is the first to hug and embrace Roman, mouthing something in his ear. Nova watches with continued confusion as the hug breaks, and he moves to take the sacred ula fala from Paul. Roman’s shoulders move up and down, as he pants, still trying to fully catch his breath, lingering exhaustion from the match. But both herself and Roman still watching Dwayne's next move.

He hands the ula fala to RJ.

Nova gasps. “Oh my God...”

Tears spill over as RJ walks over to his dad, offering a warm, proud smile. He nods, and Roman’s head dips just enough so RJ can place it on him. Right before her son pulls his father into a hug. 

Her heart just about combusts in that moment.

It swells and nears explosion, watching the two men in her life embrace, both their eyes shut from the emotionality of it all. The crowd around them applauds, completely unaware just what this moment means to them. 

To her family.

And, Nova sees it. Sees the way RJ’s mouth moves, saying something to Roman.

“I love you, dad.”

She doesn’t need to see Roman to know and hear exactly what he says in response.

“I love you, too, son.”

RJ claps his dad on the back, breaking the hug to stand beside him, raising Roman’s arm. Ones in the sky amongst the thousands in attendance that chant OTC. A proud, emotional expression on Nova’s face as she cries, overwhelmed with happiness and relief.

For the crowd, the OTC is back on top. 

For her, for her family, the healing is just beginning.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

trauma is an explanation, not an excuse.

this is something i find myself thinking frequently whenever i look through what people have to say about fiona gallagher, or even what the writers of shameless have to say about fiona gallagher.

i think that a lot of the behaviors fiona exhibits throughout her run on the show make a lot of sense when you consider what she endured growing up.

growing up for her, it was about survival. it was about keeping her baby brothers (and eventually, debbie, carl, and liam, too) from freezing to death and about making sure her parents hadn’t overdosed. she was never worried about some of the things her younger siblings (such as debbie) worried about, which caused a strain in her relationships with them.

fiona grew up never putting herself first. she was a victim, but was never treated as one. her parents left all responsibility in her hands, and she was still just viewed as a help rather than a mother.

speaking of this ^ frank’s first line regarding fiona was calling her a huge help, and his last was telling her that she just helped. frank’s monologue from the pilot ended up being one of the most important scenes in the entire show (which i will discuss later).

after years of going without recognition, she starts to change. she starts to crave it. does this happen before the show starts or during it, i don’t know. in season two, debbie points out how fiona always makes everything about herself (which of course, debbie was criticized for). i think that debbie was right. in this case, i’d say that fiona making everything about herself is more her taking the responsibility over everything, because that’s all she knows. she thinks that she can handle everything because she’s been doing it since she was in kindergarten.

in season three, she actually gets guardianship of her five siblings, which is pretty big. she had even tried to adopt them all. so basically, she was seriously taking all of the responsibility. she even told jimmy-steve that these kids were her life. and they were.

then, she got caught up in work and life happened, liam ended up overdosing (because of her) and everything fell apart. this is where we were truly introduced to the fiona we know.

she had already been refusing to take responsibility in the first episode of season four (with ian), but by the time that lip starts to act cold towards her because of liam’s accident she begins to refuse to take any accountability at all. she claims to not be guilty, but she was. she was in charge of him, she left an open bag of coke out and liam got into it. she was guilty.

as the seasons go by, she falls deeper into this victim complex, and then in season seven, she straight up starts telling debbie and carl that she will not support them and that they need to pay rent. she tells them to put her on the bottom of their emergency contact lists. why is this an issue, you may be asking? because she was legal guardian. the only other person taking care of them was frank and if you want to know why frank couldn’t be it, think back to season seven frank (he had a whole new family, for starters).

that is child neglect. you can phrase it however you want to try to make it better, but in the end, that was child neglect, nothing more, nothing less.

in season seven, fiona is twenty-six. debbie is sixteen (with a baby) and carl is fifteen at that point, it doesn’t matter what they did, get pregnant, start dealing, whatever, they’re her kids. she signed up for it so she doesn’t get to act like she didn’t.

in season seven, debbie’s child is almost taken away from her and she asks fiona to help her get a marriage license so that she won’t lose franny. fiona says yes, but when debbie asks her to do it (and mind you, it was urgent, franny ended up being taken- just not by dcfs), fiona screams and says not everything is about debbie. she’s right! it was about franny. yes, debbie approached the situation wrongly but if you were sixteen and you were about to lose your kid you’d be that way too.

later in that season, when fiona finds out debbie’s child is home and safe, she gets irritated that she wasn’t the one to save franny.

is this because of her victim complex or her hero complex? is it maybe envy, envy of monica, who has never acted like a mother towards debbie, yet won her over that easily? i don’t know.

my issue with a lot of fiona fans is that whenever fiona is criticized, on screen or off screen, they use her raising five kids as the ultimate excuse. no matter what. even if she’s in the wrong, it’s all, she raised five kids!

i hate to be the one to say this, but being the oldest, it’s weird how people excuse her actions more than anybody else’s. out of all of the siblings, she’s the only one who we only ever saw as an adult. fiona was twenty-one in season one, and twenty-eight in season nine. she’s been a grown ass adult, she should be held accountable and should take accountability. lip, ian, debbie, carl, and liam all deserve the benefit of the doubt in some situations when they were younger, she doesn’t. she was still young, yes, when you’re in your twenties you can’t be expected to act fourty, i get it, but it’s still odd how babied she can be.

i’m not saying i don’t think that fiona should get any passes, or that i don’t think that fiona did it all, because she did. i excuse a lot of her actions, but not everything. it kind of diminishes her entire character if you excuse and twist every little thing about her.

the reality of it is, she is not a good person. neither are lip, ian, debbie, carl, and maybe even liam, eventually. one of the many points of the show is that they all just kinda… suck. they aren’t necessarily bad people, but good people? angels? no. and that’s why i hate it so much when frank, fiona, lip, and even ian (who’s one of my favorites) get defended for everything. it kind of defeats the purpose, they are shitty, they can do shitty things and still be good characters (not frank though lol); and the same thing applies but reversed, when characters like debbie, who was a kid in almost every season, get held accountable and shit on for every little thing, it ruins the character. you can’t see the good in her or see the impact her decisions actually make because you’re busy viewing her as this monster (when the monster in question is just a teenage girl).

even then, frank’s actions can’t all be excused by being abused as a child, fiona’s actions can’t all be excused by raising five kids, lip’s actions can’t all be excused by his childhood/addiction, ian’s actions can’t all be excused by his illness and debbie, carl, and liam’s. actions can’t all be excused by their age. the actions can somewhat be excused in some scenarios, but it isn’t like enduring trauma is a get-out-of-jail-free card for everything.

[gh0st-patr0l]

AHHHH Kyle and oskyle rant time bc I'm gonna burst in2 flames.

LIKE. It's the thing abt how Kyle's whole character conflict since he became a singles competitor has been based arnd insecurity. Like he was insecure abt his chances as a singles competitor, and that's why he felt so desperate to prove himself to Callis in the first place. He was insecure about not having anybody to rely on, which is why he joined the Family, even when they treated him terribly at several points. He was insecure about his relationship with Will and that's why Don was able to use that and convince him to betray him.

And like it's the last one that makes me feel crazy. That Kyle clearly LOVED Will. He was so so hopelessly in love with him and it was so obvious. But then Will leaves the DCF and doesn't go along with him in the tag match and he has Don whispering in his ear and suddenly he realizes he can't have Will. Not in the way he really wants, not as the person he "needs" to be. So he has to destroy him, he has to erase him bc as long as Will is here there were always be a part of Kyle's old self alive in him. He needs to be nothing like him he needs to ELIMINATE him to be free of him and everything he hated abt himself.

But the problem is that doesn't work bc he can't just Stop feeling something. So as much as he cries and yells and screams about how much he nothing for Will or just wants him gone, you can see in the matches just how much he still cares, just twisted. The way the love is just twisted, turned on its head- the need to be seen and felt and reciprocated, if not in love then in hatred. If I can't have u the way I wanted I'll have you however I can. I'll drink your blood just to have u inside me etc. Can anyone hear me

[thisissirius]

apparently i started a safe haven baby fic and never finished it? i guess this might be part one of something longer? who knows. safe haven buck/eddie, safe haven baby, adoption, girl dad buck

Buck doesn't mean to become an emergency foster parent. It happens, of all times, during the lawsuit. He’s used to spending most of his days off with Eddie and Chris; playing video games with Chris, helping with homework, or just hanging out with Eddie. Maddie tells him to just get over himself and call Eddie already, but Buck’s not even sure Eddie still wants to be friends with him, or will ever want him around again after their supermarket fight. To stop himself from leaving a pathetic voicemail on Eddie’s phone, Buck goes on a research binge and ends up filing to become an emergency foster carer. Thankfully, Eddie does still want him around and they rebuild their friendship on the existing foundations. It becomes something much more solid, integral to who Buck wants to be as a person, and he almost forgets about his application and the aftermath until Eddie comes around and sees the renovations Buck’s made to the apartment.

“What’s the extra room for?”

Buck almost says DCFS told me I needed an extra bedroom to become a foster parent but instead he blurts out, “For when you and Chris stay over, obviously.”

The expression on Eddie's face makes Buck's throat dry and the subject drops.

Then someone decides to take advantage of the Safe Haven law and leave a baby girl at the station.

Reaching into the box, the alarm finally shutting off thanks to Eddie’s hand on the button, Buck is gentle with the baby as he pulls them free from the basket. He cradles the tiny body in his hands and feels his heart in his throat. “They’re so tiny.”

Eddie nods, brushes his fingers against the top of her head, then unwraps the blankets slightly. “A girl. We should get her checked out, let Cap know. There’s protocols.”

“I know,” Buck says, readjusting the baby and holding her against his body. There's a small birthmark on her cheek and he feels his heart stutter. It's not as vivid as his. 

Bobby takes one look at the baby and sighs. “I’ll call social services. They’re going to want to take her—”

The baby grizzles and starts to wake, batting her small first against Buck. She starts to cry, filling her lungs and letting everyone in the vicinity know she’s unhappy. “Hey,” Buck says, rocking her a little, heart breaking at the scrunched up face she’s making. “It’s alright, darling girl. We’ll get some food, yeah? Find you something to eat. Something warm to wrap you in, how about that?”

With a small gurgle, the baby huffs, cries cutting off into hiccups and he rocks her, wanting nothing more than to make her happy. When he looks up, Bobby’s got a contemplative look on his face and Eddie—Eddie looks soft, smile warm, eyes meeting Buck’s without question. 

“Cap,” Buck says, just so that he doesn’t have to stare at Eddie anymore, “when you call social services, let them know there’s an emergency foster carer working at the station.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Me.”

There’s paperwork, a lot of phone calls, and someone comes into the station to do the preliminary checks and to have Buck fill out his side of the paperwork, but eventually he’s in place as the foster carer for the tiny baby and it’s only then, with the baby tucked into the crook of his arm, fast asleep after some warm milk, that it hits Buck.

“Fuck,” he whispers softly, then winces. “Oops. Don’t remember that, baby.”

“Not sure she’ll remember this,” Eddie says, sliding into the seat across from Buck’s. “What name did they settle on?”

Buck chews on the inside of his cheek, thumb brushing against the baby’s cheek. “There was no note with the baby, or the form they leave for the mom to fill out. I was thinking maybe Lily.”

The expression on Eddie’s face is unreadable, but the soft smile on his face hasn’t shifted. He leans against the table. “Because of the birthmark?”

Startled, Buck nods. “Kinda looks like one, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” Eddie agrees. They lapse into a comfortable silence, broken only by Lily’s breathing. Buck is fascinated by her face, the tufts of her hair, the small fist curled on top of the blanket. When Eddie starts talking, it takes effort to look away from her. “The extra room,” Eddie starts, “you did that to become a foster carer?”

Buck doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he can’t run away. Not if it means jostling Lily. “It was during the—”

“—Yeah—”

“—I missed Chris,” Buck says, feeling the lump in his throat. “I wanted to call but I—researched instead, I guess, and there’s so many kids, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie says, quietly. He looks sad. “Lily’s not one of them.”

Buck feels his heart skip a beat and shakes his head. “She will be, eventually. I can’t keep her forever.”

Eddie hums. “No, maybe not, but right now, you can make all the difference to her.”

“She won’t remember it,” Buck protests. “She’s so young.”

“You underestimate what a little kindness can do,” Eddie says, pushing out of his chair and rounding the table. He rests a hand on Buck’s shoulder, slides it around his neck and into his hair. Buck hardly dares breathe, wondering when their tactile friendship became this. “Think of what she’ll remember with the amount of kindness you can give her.”

The sound of Eddie’s footsteps gradually fade, and Buck’s left alone with Lily. He doesn’t know how to process Eddie’s words, or his mood, so he focuses back on the little girl in his arms. She really is beautiful, and her birthmark blotches out into the shape of a lily. At least, a misshapen one. He runs a thumb over it, wondering if his looked like anything when he was a baby. He doesn’t have the pictures, never will, and he tries not to think of his childhood. Though he can’t help but think of his parents; they're a great example of what not to do with children and he won't be like them.

"She's not yours," Athena's voice warns gently in the back of his head. He knows, he does, but that doesn't stop a feeling settling low in his stomach when he holds Lily, brushes his lips over the crown of her head. 

Mine, it says. Mine.

spoiler alert: she does become his!! another little snippet for you:

"What?"

"It makes sense. If you move in, we can rent out your place and we'll have money spare for Lily and Chris both." Eddie feels cold; it's the nerves, right? God, he's such an idiot, what is his mouth saying?

Buck's mouth parts. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, not even hesitating. Apparently his mouth is as fed up with his pining as Hen is with hearing it. "It also means we can split shifts if necessary, and Lily's never alone. Carla's here at other times and she's already offered."

Eddie's sure it's not his imagination when Buck looks relieved, his grin wide. "Okay. Yeah, that sounds--wait, is there room?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie laughs. "You'll share with me and Lily'll stay with us. Where else are you gonna go?"

There's a look on Buck's face Eddie doesn't understand, but before he can figure it out, Buck shrugs, looking pleased. "Then yes. I'll speak to Albert and I'm sure he'll say yes to renting my place."

Eddie lets out a slow breath, watches while Buck moves around the kitchen, getting Lily's bottle ready and the butterflies in his stomach start up a goddamn party. GOD. what is this

[jakeowen]

pls talk about homeschooling (genuinely interested)

so ok here’s the thing. i was a montessori kid who went on to receive a private progressive education through college. i think progressive education is wonderful and important. my dad was a montessori teacher and i spent four years working in education access inside an under-resourced high school (including pandemic years). the reason i mention this is that i do believe that mainstream education (both public and private schools) is failing kids and ultimately society. i have a lot of sympathy for parents who want a higher-caliber education for their kids and don’t know where to get it besides at home. one of my best friends was homeschooled because his parents (both professors) couldn’t find a school they were comfortable sending him to, and he turned out very intelligent and perfectly ok, if weird. i’ve also seen other positive examples of homeschooling, including a homeschool program at a nature preserve i worked at and homeschool that incorporates the occasional class at a local high school or community college or what have you. all this to say, i don’t think all motives for homeschooling are evil and i don’t think every single child who’s been homeschooled has been mistreated or denied positive social opportunities or whatever. however, all that said, even the best, highest-quality homeschooling should not be fucking legal.

after i was done working at a school, i went on to work at an organization serving unhoused youth and also teens in dcf custody, so i’ve seen a lot of shit, way more than enough to make me firmly believe that children are a uniquely vulnerable and marginalized population who are at high risk for exploitation. and the vast vast majority of exploitation and abuse happens inside the home. frankly you only need to meet one kid whose “homeschooling” was religious indoctrination designed to teach them to submit to their father raping them every night to be ready to burn the entire practice down. children are safest when they are part of the community, when they have access to multiple and varied points of view and responsible, caring adults representing those points of view. no child should ever be wholly at the mercy of their parents or any other single entity. it is simply not safe, and even if it were, it’s not healthy for a child’s cognitive development to only be exposed to one ideology, no matter how much or how little i agree with the particular ideology. part of healthy growth and development is the ability to integrate or discern different perspectives—it’s how you develop a bullshit detector, it’s how you learn to form your own opinions, and if you don’t build that skill in youth you are more susceptible to exploitation and indoctrination as an adult.

not all homeschool parents are fundamentalists who limit the perspectives their children can be exposed to. but the practice of homeschooling allows for this. the practice of homeschooling allows for abusive parents to lock their kids in cages and starve them and get away with it because there’s nobody to notice. any practice that provides a safe cover for the worst kind of abuse and exploitation is not a practice worth keeping, even if it does have the potential to work out well for a few kids.

the good news is that we actually already invented a way for children to get educated: it’s called school, and it exists free of charge in every community in the country. if you’re worried about the quality of your kids’ education, you can get involved! you can run for school board or join the pta/pto. you can also seek out or provide educational enrichment opportunities for your child that incorporate whatever you think they’re not getting at school. sunday school is a classic example of religious education supplementing school. my parents discussed current events with me, asked my opinion on things, shared theirs, and honestly answered my questions about other approaches/beliefs, and i learned a lot from that. even better than laying out enrichment opportunities for your kid, ask what THEY want to learn or feel like they’re not getting at school, and honor their autonomy by finding that for them or helping them find it. education does not begin and end at school, but it does not and cannot begin and end with parents either.

[jupiterjunebug]

sitting here thinking and actually Ospreay and Omega, 14, for the kiss meme would be so funny actually

NOTE: I wrote this one ages ago and then i was going thru my drafts and its still in there lol. So if this was already posted oopsy poopsy, it wasnt in my fic tag

Ospreay and Omega, without a reason. This one sat in my inbox forever bc i couldnt fathom them sucking face for any reason other than try to Gotcha the dcf abt how totally fine they are but here we are. A fill that... kinda fits the prompt i think.

They've just won another tag match, because they're Kenny Omega and Will Ospreay and when you put them together winning's really the least you can expect, when it happens.

Aubrey raises both their hands and then steps away, and Ospreay sags in to throw an arm around Kenny's shoulders. Which still feels a little weird, but Kenny's acclimated enough not to scoot away. Will's a touchy guy, the way Kenny and the Elite all used to be, and Kenny's pretty sure it'd cause him physical pain to restrain the urge to Just Sort or Lean on people. So he can handle that. It's an easier quirk to get past than crippling alcoholism or betraying him, so not the biggest deal breaker he's had in a partner.

Kenny lets his guard down for a millisecond too long, so the lips pressed to his hair come as a surprise. They seem to surprise Will, too; he freezes and sort of skitters away with that little oops expression he'd perfected since Kenny left New Japan. He'd always done it, but while it used to piss Kenny off now it just sort of makes him squint in confusion. Kenny ignores it, because it's not worth holding up the show, and heads down the ramp.

"Sorry, bruv," Will says once they get backstage, hands up in placation. "That's just kinda what the Empire does and uh-"

He cuts himself off, but there's a grief there Kenny recognizes. He sighs.

"No, man, I get it. Force of habit." He coughs. "Wanna go play video games and not talk about our feelings until we pass out?"

"That sounds great, man," Will says, slouching in relief.

[fosterwhat]

Met today with DCFS senior staff —

(yes, I went over other employees’ heads, yes, I’m that kind of foster parent)

Turns out that I’m not able to take placements because the paperwork I submitted in March was never uploaded into their internal system

This whole time they assumed (but didn’t check) that I was on a waitlist for licensing approval

Nope, just idling in an in-between space

The bad news is that means I could have been taking kids since April, which just seems like a waste of time

The good news is that by virtue of being the kind of foster parent that DCFS loves to hate (you know the kind), they have now flagged me in the system and are uploading paperwork this week (we shall see)

I was also told some very interesting things today that go against what I’ve been told by junior caseworkers in the past. This is why all foster parents should read every published DCFS policy document they can get their hands on, and speak to as many senior internal people as possible. Knowledge is power

What’s wild to me is that if I wasn’t so familiar with the system and hadn’t experienced years of trial by fire, I would not have even known how to get myself in front of these people today. It took talking to 6 people, gradually moving up a circuitous chain (which is not published anywhere) to make this meeting happen. It makes me wonder how many other potential foster homes are waiting in the ether for months on end, simply shrugging and giving up at a certain point

[bullet-prooflove]

Daywalker: John Shen x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @miraclesabound @cannonindeez @fadeinsol @nommingonfood @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

Dick Pics - You and John discuss your dating life in the ambulance bay during a rare shift break.

Brunch - John refuses to give up when you miss brunch with him.

Silly Little Boys (NSFW) - John's not like the other men you've been with.

In The Summer - You discover John's secret.

Tiger, Tiger - John reveals the truth between his engagement and his history.

Jack - John's mother opens up old wounds by giving John a copy of your DCFS file.

Bare (NSFW) - John and you commit to each other in a special way.

The Shirt - Jack realises that you're wearing a boyfriend shirt.

Tradition - Mrs Shen makes a decision regarding the wedding.

Thanksgiving in The Pitt is batshit fucking crazy.

Bust ups, burns, accidently amputated appendages, the list goes on. The waiting room heaves to capacity, the ambulance bay is an endless stream of drop offs. Each doctor is turning over five patients an hour, getting them situated in the halls because food poisoning is the leading cause of illness during this holiday and the majority of them need drips due to dangerous levels of dehydration.

Throughout the chaos John catches glimpses of your presence, a flash of that neat bun, the sound of your voice carrying across the room, your signature on some of his intake paperwork. They’re the only signs of your existence during the nightmare shift.

It’s 4am when he finally gets a break, he takes a leak before heading out to the ambulance bay in his scrubs, sucking in a deep breath of cool, refreshing as soon as he steps onto the concrete.

You’re already waiting for him at your usual spot by the wall, there’s a brown paper bag alongside you with two plastic cups of cold brew coffee. Your rig is parked just to the right, the sounds of you partner’s snoring from the back echoing through the lot.

“I gotta warn you now.” You say as he approaches. “No hugs, I stink of vomit and other indescribable substances.”

“You think I care about that?” John asks placing his hands on his hips and tipping his head towards the E.D. “It’s like Saint Patrick’s Day all over again in there, I’m completely desensitised at this point.”

You roll your eyes to the heavens, stepping towards him. “Well played, you know I’m a goner for that slutty little hip thing you do.”

His arms wrap around you, drawing you into the shelter of his form. You fit against him perfectly, like two pieces of a shattered vase being reacquainted. His lips brush over your temple and he can feel the tension ebb out of your body as he cradles you close.

You’ve been away over the last few days in Seattle at the Paramedic Professional Development Conference. This is the first time he’s laid eyes on you since you’d gotten back into town because the day shift had gotten overwhelmed and he’d had to come in early.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbles into your hair. “None of the other paramedics are nearly as much fun.”

Your chest vibrates with laugher against his and he can’t help but smile at the sensation as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“You mean none of the others bring you coffee and turkey subs at four in the morning.” You point out and he shrugs his shoulders in response.

“They aren’t as cute either.”

“Yea, I know.” You say, taking his hand and leading him towards the wall. The two of you take a seat before unwrapping your sandwiches. “Trust me Chicago Fire has given the public some very unrealistic expectations in that department. You won’t believe how many people have been disappointed by the lack of hot firemen pulling up tonight.”

“Same here with Grey’s Anatomy. Although Abbot did get called McSteamy and Grumpy Daddy tonight so that was very entertaining.” He takes a bite from the sub and moans. “Christ have I told you how much I adore you recently?”

“Not nearly enough.” You tease, nudging his shoulder. “You’ll have to worship me when we get off shift, remind me why I keep coming around.”

“The videos I sent when you were away weren’t enough?” He counters, balling up the packaging between his hands and tossing it into the brown paper bag. “Me fucking the panties you left on my pillow?”

Your cheeks flush as you bite your lower lip and it’s just the sweetest damn thing.

“Did you give anymore thought to the other thing we were talking about?” He asks you, picking up his cold brew and sipping through the straw. “The Field Training Officer position?”

“Hm.” You respond noncommittedly. “Had a conversation with Anderson before I left Seattle about the program. It would mean changing my shift for a few months so I could fit the course in during the evening time and I’m not sure how much I’d like being a day walker.”

A day walker, it’s what the night shift people call those that make the transition back to regular office hours. It can be a jarring adjustment after you’ve spent so long in the darkness.

John doesn’t think that’s the real issue though. He suspects you’re concerned about how your life is going to change compared to that of the people around you.  Abbot, Faye, him, all work the nightshift and altering the routine will throw you out of sync with the support network you’ve build up over the years. You fear becoming isolated again, that they won’t be able to find time for you.

“Cici.” He says softly, his fingers threading through yours. “My feelings won’t change because you’re working the day shift, we can still do breakfast or dinner, find the sweet spot when we’re not working weekends. Our relationship will adapt, the same way it will with Abbot and Faye, nobody’s going to abandon you because you’re trying something new.”

“It’s just… it’s a big change.” You say quietly, poking at the ice in your drink with the straw.

“Change can be good even if it is a little scary.” He reassures you, his thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. “I know you’re going to rock this and I promise I will be here to support you. Quizzing you, feeding you, helping you to ‘destress’.”

The edges of your mouth tip up into a smile before you tilt your head towards hm.

“You really think I can do it?” You ask him and John’s palm comes to cradle your face, his thumb ghosting over that tiny scar just at the edge of your right eye.

“Cici.” He says firmly. “I think you can do anything you god damn want to.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[oatmealkitty]

We got a bit uhhh carried away with this one oops-

@Fox and the Bunni, Raccoon and the Goat (us lmao)

Poncho and Squeaker (and the angry bunni being hunted by a fox) @ask-dcf & @theyoshimister

Bunni and Goat Charisk (Still need to make names for UW Chara and Frisk hmmm...) @susartwork

To explain some things:

-Fox uses kitsune illusion magic on Frisky to make him Bunni. Luci can turn into a goat herself using her own magic bc vampire/demon

-He likes bunnies

-When cold he turns silver and loses fire magic (if human form, this change is signified by blu hoodie). Also his fire and any magic he casts is purple.

-Luci can make plants but roses literally kill her bc vampire. But SOMEONE likes roses so she made one anyway.

-In Duotale, Cinnabuns give you ears and tail which is how Squeaker has them

-Yes Luci can play piano. I would've added a little cover of the song but my grandma never leaves her room so :'3 Also Frisky likes wearing real fur hence the song in the first place lol

-MARGE KRUMP

☆~~~~~☆~~~~~☆

If you like our little arts that we do, you can always follow @oatmealkitty for more content, yes UT/DR included! To send any asks or read the main comic, you can check out @ask-duotale-b2fc uwu. Also, dont forget, here on tumblr a reblog is highly appreciated! ♡

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part fifteen

authors note: i hope everyone has recovered from the last chapter! just remember, there's, typically, light at the end of the tunnel!

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: violence, angst, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 7k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns

Alexis is going to jail.

She’s accepted as such and doesn't really care about that as much as she's curious about what the charges will be. Aggravated assault. Attempted murder. Actual murder. It’s all up in the air, each a very much real possibility. 

Truth be told, she’s wanted to put the paws on Mariah for years. And not even because Mariah has done anything outright, not close to this level anyways. It was just something about her that screamed fake and inauthentic. However, she recognized what friendship and loyalty meant to you, and while you’d mentioned a few arguments over the years, nothing was major enough for her to act on her violent urges.

Now though? 

Now, she’s ready to rain fire. 

She doesn’t give a flying fuck about traffic laws, well exceeding every speed limit she zooms through in order to make it to Mariah’s house. It’s an address that wasn’t too hard to find. Google is such a wonderful thing. She would have asked you for that information, but she also wants you as separate from what she’s about to do as possible. Especially with DCFS in the midst of an active investigation.

Just thinking about it pisses her off even more. It’s one thing to call DCFS on someone who’s arguably one of the best parents on this fucking earth, but it’s another to accuse said parents of the things Mariah accused you. 

It’s unforgivable. 

It’s also why Alexis won’t feel somewhat content until she spills Mariah’s blood. Pulling up into the driveway behind the parked Camry, Alexis shuts off the car, reaches for the bat in the passenger seat and slams the door behind her as she marches up the three steps to the front door. Her fists immediately start banging on the door. “Open the door, hoe!” More banging. “I know you in there! Come outside so I can crack ya’ fucking head open!”

Alexis isn’t stupid. She knows no one with common sense would open the door to anyone yelling such things. Cue: the bat. 

Moving across the porch, Alexis doesn’t hesitate to give a solid swing to the window, effectively cracking it. The second blow is the one, however, that shatters it. She kicks through the remnants and proceeds to climb in. 

With a possible element of surprise, Alexis opts to remain quiet, looking around the living room. She’s tempted to smash the TV but decides against it, as she’d much rather save her strength for blows against Mariah’s body.

Moving throughout the house, she’s lucky enough for the first door she kicks open to reveal her victim. 

But Mariah isn’t alone.

In a pleasant surprise. Alexis just so happens to walk in on Mariah receiving backshots from a man who quickly stumbles and looks back over his shoulder at her entrance. Alexis immediately recognizes him. 

Amir.

“Now ain’t this about a bitch!” Alexis' smile is wild and crazed as she watches Amir stumble to cover himself, Mariah’s eyes also wide with horror and shock as she holds the sheet to her chest. “A two for one special. My lucky fucking day.”

“What the hell?” Amir has managed to pull his boxers on and is standing near the bed, close to Mariah in an almost protective manner. Like that’ll keep her safe from Alexis' wrath. “Alexis? What the fuck are you doing?”

“I would ask ya’ll niggas the same thing, but ain’t no sense in stating the obvious.” She motions between the two of them with her steel bat. “How long?”

Mariah screams, the fear in her voice and eyes music to Alexis soul. “Get out of my house!”

“Oh, Imma leave, but not until you’re unconscious.” She looks toward Amir. “And if you try to get in my way, Imma knock your ass out too.” Alexis' hands are rated E for everyone. She fights females and males with equal smoke. “Now, I’m not gon’ ask again, how long have ya’ll been fucking behind Y/N’s back?”

Truth be told, Alexis wouldn’t trust a single word out of either of their mouths, but she’s curious. The answer regardless will aid in the intensity of her beating. 

Amir is the first to ‘answer’. “I don’t owe Y/N shit. She’s not my girl.” As if he has a right to be upset, he continues, anger painting his face. “I tried, but she chose to be with that nigga.” 

“And will every single mother fucking time because unlike you, he’s actually worth something and deserves her. Not like you two snakes.” It’s the fact that Amir thinks that he’s been done wrong in some way that blows her mind. He might be as delusional as the bitch he was just fucking. “I’m tired of talking. Get the fuck out my way, so I can knock this hoe’s head off.”

It’s when Alexis takes a step toward the bed that Amir extends his arm out, “wait, before you do this—”

“Do you even know what she did?” Alexis demands, grip on the bat tightening as she remembers holding you as you cried into her over having your child ripped away from you. The fear in Callie’s eyes. It enrages her all over again. “Ask the bitch! Go on, ask her!”

Amir is still understandably cautious and pissed at this intrusion, but his gaze still falls on Mariah. “What is she talking about?”

Mariah pauses and shakes her head, stuttering. “I–I don’t know. She’s–she’s crazy.”

“She’s a liar!” Alexis shouts, explaining to Amir. “She called DCFS on Y/N and made up all kind of lies!” She juggs the bat in the direction of that slime. “They took Callie away from Y/N because of her!”

It seems like there’s a sudden shift that Alexis recognizes as the tide gradually turning. She still thinks Amir is a piece of shit, but it does count for a tiny something that he looks absolutely disgusted by this revelation. His eyes narrow at Mariah. “You did what?” Mariah’s face gives away her guilt as he demands, “what the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that!”

Clearly adept at deviating, Mariah attempts to redirect the focus. “You really gon’ believe this bitch over me!” 

Alexis laughs, throwing her head back. She’s really going to enjoy breaking this bitch jaw.

Amir seems heated now. Again, not that Alexis really cares. He’s not much better than this hoe in her book. “You got her child taken away from her, Mariah! What part of that do you not understand is fucked up! You’ve gone too fucking far!”

“If Callie got taken away, then she should have been doing a better job making sure her kid was straight instead of chasing a married around like a desperate who—”

Alexis lunges, literally lunges, across the room before Mariah can even finish her sentence. There’s a sickening crack that enters the air when her fist collides with Mariah’s nose. Mariah’s cry is sounded out by Alexis snatching her by her hair and banging her head into the headboard. “Say it, bitch! Say it so I can knock ya fucking teeth out your mouth.”

“Get off me!” Mariah screams, but it’s no use, Alexis blows are powerful and focused, knuckles burning from the impact with bone, not that it makes a difference to her. She’s only seeing and hearing red.

“I been wanted to stomp your hoe ass!” And Alexis does just that, dragging and tossing Mariah onto the floor and stomping her feet into Mariah’s side. 

Mariah is crying like a little bitch, screaming, “help me!” 

But Amir does nothing, just stands there watching as Alexis rains blow on top of blow, kick on top of kick to the broad he was just balls deep in minutes ago. It speaks volumes of his character, not that that was much to behold anyway.

However, it’s when she cries out again, “we got a fucking son together, Amir!”

This actually takes Alexis by surprise as she realizes what Mariah just said. She knows the bitch has a son, but she also knows this woman is married. Though estranged, still married. Is…..is Amir the biological father of her son? Has she really been messing with Amir long enough for him to possibly father her baby?

Is that why she’s estranged from her husband?

That’s a whole other layer that adds to the betrayal. Alexis starts mixing on Mariah again, ignoring the splatter of blood on her fists and the possibility that her child might be just a room or two away.

At least she still has her kid. 

“That’s enough.” Amir’s voice finally sounds from behind her, but Alexis is in the zone. She’s not letting up off this hoe. “Alexis, that’s enough!” And then he makes the cardinal mistake of trying to interfere, reaching to pull her off Mariah. Instantly, Alexis reaches behind and lands her fist against his face.

“Fuck!” He calls out. Alexis grabs the bat, swinging it across his knee. Amir cries out and falls on his back, cradling his knee. “You crazy bitch!”

“That’s right, I’m the crazy bitch that’s gon come back and fuck both ya’ll asses up again if you ever in your life try Y/N!” Alexis realizes Mariah is on the verge of losing consciousness, so she ensures she grabs her by her raggedy tracks. “You stay the hell away from her, you hear me? You even so much as utter her name, utter Callie’s name, and I’mma put you six feet under!” A final stomp to Mariah’s jaw is the last thing she sees before being knocked unconscious. 

Breathing heavy, Alexis looks around, pleased with her carnage only to see Amir starting to stand up, knee obviously fucked up. “I didn’t—I didn’t know.”

Alexis marches over to him and punches him square in his nose, satisfied with the crunch sound that follows. He curses loudly, hands over his nose that’s started to spurt out blood. 

“Bitch ass nigga,” she mutters, taking one final survey of the room and walking out, pleased with the results. She suddenly feels so much better, hungry but deeply satisfied. Curious, she asks a groaning Amir.

“Ya’ll got a McDonald’s in this town?”

—---------

The knock on the door is probably the first thing to make you feel anything in hours. You’ve just laid on the bed all day, staring at the empty wall across the room. The apartment is quiet. It’s never quiet. 

Not since you first brought Callie home from the hospital. You miss her giggles, her loud singing, the patterning of her feet as she runs into your room, jumping on the bed, rambling about the most random of things.

You wished that her being with your mom and not some random family would provide more comfort than it does, but as soon as you try to find some relief in that, your mind goes towards why she’s with your mom and the fact that you are legally barred from speaking to and interacting with the child you birthed and have raised since she first entered this world.

That’s when the tears come. You’re not sure there’s many left to be honest.

So, a knock on the door is the closest thing you have to hope, hope that someway, somehow, someone with enough pull was able to make all of this go away, make this nightmare of a reality a thing of fiction. 

Running to the front door, that hope is both dashed yet sustained when you rip it open. 

Turns out you’re wrong, there are definitely more tears left.

“Joe…”

You’re not sure who makes the move first, probably him, because the moment his eyes land on you, his expression softens into something sympathetic. 

He’s holding the back of your head as you cry into his chest, comforting you. And then it hits you. You pull away, holding onto his shirt, “did you see her? H-how is she?”

You made sure to emphasize that Joe needed to check in on Callie before coming to see you, not that it was something he needed to be told. You’re certain his first and foremost priority was checking in on Callie. 

He wipes at your eyes. “She’s okay.” It’s a safe answer, one that’s probably both partially and impartially true. How okay can she be in a situation like this? His response is more for your comfort than anything, you’re sure. “I got her down for bed before I left.” His eyes give you a one over. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

You’re certain you must look a mess. You also don’t care about that. You don’t really care about much to be honest. 

Still, it’s a valid question that takes you a second to contemplate. “I–I don’t know.” And before he can say something further, you inform, “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“No, I–what I need is to start getting this place together.” Pulling away from him, sniffling and wiping at your eyes, you motion around your apartment. “They’re doing the home inspection tomorrow.”

In between tears and depression, you’d received formal notice regarding the home visit where they’d evaluate the environment to ensure its appropriateness for a child as well as your emergency court date. 

Joe’s gaze is on you and lazily scans the room that’s more or less spotless. “It looks fine, Y/N.”

“Fine isn’t good enough, Joe,” your voice is firmer, a hint of irritation. “It has to be perfect so they can—” Without even realizing what’s happening, another unexpected set of tears arrives, your voice cracking. “—so they can give my baby back to me.”

He guides you back into his chest, comforting you as the next set of waterworks overcomes you. You’ve always hated crying, always found it irritating because it was hard to control, even harder to stop. This is all of those things. 

“I can’t believe she would—would do this to me.” That’s the part you still can’t wrap around. How could you not see what kind of person Mariah was? You’ve always thought you were a good judge of character. This was Callie’s legal godmother for fucks sake. “Do you know what she said about me? What she said I was going to do—” Your mouth watering and stomach twisting alerts you to what’s about to come, and you dash away from him to the bathroom where you fall to your knees, vomiting into the toilet. 

Joe is behind you not even minutes later, hand on the small of your back as you cry over that same toilet. There’s a level of appreciation for him being here with you in this moment, but it still doesn’t wholly ease that dull ache in your chest. 

Getting cleaned up, Joe doesn’t take no for an answer when he says that he’s going to make you something to eat and you’re going to eat. Deep down, you know he’s right. Not only are you teetering on sleep deprivation, but the lack of food in your system is eventually going to take a toll. And you need to be at your absolute best the next few days. 

However, even with his delicious cooking and emotional support, it’s not enough to keep your emotions at bay because you end up right back at that toilet, depositing everything you just tried to consume.

You just feel so off, so incomplete, because you are. 

Because you don’t know you’re supposed to proceed without your child. How you’re supposed to proceed and act like your world hasn’t been turned upside down, like you’re not in a position where you have to prove that you’re a fit parent. 

Something you could have never imagined you’d be having to prove. This whole situation, nightmare, has pushed you so much farther in the direction of wanting to move.

Mariah’s play has stolen your sense of security in this town, the place you’ve always called home. It feels like you’ll never be able to feel comfortable again so long as she’s also a resident. Blocking her on all platforms isn’t enough. You don’t want her to have any access to you or Callie whatsoever.

And that can only be done with moving. 

A small part of you considers talking with Joe about you and Callie staying at his place in Florida for the time being until you find a house. And you hate that, the idea of uprooting your and Callie’s life so suddenly. Not even being able to stay until the end of the school year, not being able to give your students the proper time to transition and adjust to your departure.

But you have to think about your family, your child, and what’s best for her.

It's starting to become more and more clear that the best thing you can do at this point is leave.

If not the only thing. ________

“She finally sleep?”

After treating herself to McDonalds, Alexis casually reached out to her legal team to let them know she could be facing a couple of charges and to be ready to bail her out once the warrant was issued. They were already fast ahead in working towards a plan to get said charges dismissed, so she's honestly not concerned at all.

And even if they aren’t dismissed, she doesn't mind. 

She’d do it all over again if she had to. 

So, after getting cleaned up and settling her affairs, she headed back over to the apartment to check on you. Alexis wasn’t surprised to find you still heavily upset, but the physical sickness was hard to watch. She’s so grateful that you listened to her and called Joe. She can’t imagine you going through this without his support.

“I got her to agree to take Benadryl.” Joe’s eyes are focused on the island as he sits down at the barstool and leans back. Alexis hasn’t been around Joe a ton, but that’s not needed to tell he’s a myriad of emotions right now, primarily anger. He adds, clearly concerned, “she can’t keep anything down.”

“She’s a wreck,” Alexis says as kindly as she can, because it’s the ugly truth. She’s always known you to be so calm and composed. This is anything but. Yes, there were a couple moments where you lost your temper. But post Callie? You’ve been the textbook definition of what it looks like to be a picture of calmness in a storm. 

Now….now you’re just a disaster.

Not that a single soul could blame you.

“How is Callie? Like, really?” Alexis isn’t sure if asking him this right now is the right move, but she’s genuinely curious. She’d take a bet that he played it down for the sake of your current mental state.

“Confused. Sad as hell. Doesn’t know why the fuck she’s just been ripped from her mother for no reason.” His anger is palpable and completely understandable. 

Alexis listens, working to control her own anger. Mariah’s beating wasn’t good enough. “It’s fucked up. That’s for sure.”

His jaw is clenched as she states, boldly, “I’ve gotta get them out of this damn town.” 

Alexis looks at him, partially not following his statement. “Aren’t they already moving to live with you?

“Yes, at the end of the summer, but that’s not soon enough.” She hears what he’s saying, but she isn’t quite sure about the realistic aspect of what he clearly wants at this point. “I need them out of here now.”

Alexis takes a second before responding, not wanting to further upset him. Typically, she doesn’t give two shits about how her words are perceived, but this is an entirely different situation. “You’re not wrong, Joe, but Y/N can’t just up and leave—”

“We don’t have much of a fucking choice, Alexis.” His tone, if not for the current circumstances, would be completely unacceptable. He’s talking to her like she’s a child, but Alexis knows emotions are high, so she sets aside her pride. “I don’t want that bitch anywhere near them.” 

Careful with her words, she counters calmly, “you know there’s a chance Y/N's not going to like that.” 

Alexis knows you, and knows that you like order. You’d want to properly close out the year, have time to say goodbye. Then again, after something like this, she’s not actually 100% sure where you’d stand on moving sooner than initially planned.

Joe then brings up a valid point. “It’s not about what she likes and doesn’t like. It’s about Calista and what’s best for her.” He’s not wrong, Alexis won’t deny him that. “Mariah is fucking psychotic, and I’m not taking any more chances with her pulling anymore shit like this. I’ve already contacted my lawyers to see what options we have there.”

Joe lawyering up makes all the sense in the world. It’s probably the smartest decision for him and Y/N, which is why she’s so grateful she stopped you from catching an unnecessary charge. “I can beat her ass again once she gets released from the hospital. It was quite therapeutic actually.” Alexis is slightly pleased to hear Joe chuckle at her words, even if she’s being completely honest. “I’ll tell you this, but don’t tell Y/N. She’s got enough she’s dealing with.” 

Joe is quick to assert. “I don’t like keeping things from her.”

Ignoring his counter, Alexis supplies, “Mariah was fucking Amir when I got there. Like, I literally caught them in bed.” 

As expected, Joe looks taken back, “what?”

She nods and adds, “but that’s not it. When the stupid bitch was begging for him to help her, she said they have a son together.” Lowering her voice in case you somehow fought the powers of Benadryl, she concludes, “I think Amir is the biological father of her kid,”

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters. Joe is suddenly wishing he acted upon impulse instead of logic and beat the shit out of Amir that night he had the chance. That bastard really was a scumbag. He’s also partially wishing he’d tagged along with Mariah. Joe would never put his hands on a woman, but Amir? He’d be laid out in the hospital just like Mariah is. “Just how long have they been messing around?”

“Long enough for her to get knocked up by him.” She shakes her head, trying to settle the growing anger. “God, I hate her ass. Him too, but definitely her. How do you just fuck your best friend’s ex like that? When you know she’s fucking him too? Fuckin nasty ass hoe.” 

He won’t disagree, sharing, “you probably already know this, but Mariah used to mess with Randy Orton, and he'd said she ended up being clingy and crazy when he broke it off.” 

“Really?” Alexis remembers you mentioning to her that Mariah was sleeping with a wrestler around the same time you first got with Joe but nothing about how it ended. “That lines up.”

“I never really paid much attention to it, because she wasn’t relevant to me, and Orton was an ass back in the day, so I took it with a grain of salt.” A heavy frown appears on his handsome face. “Clearly, that was a mistake.”

Realizing what’s happening, she shakes her head. “Oh my god. Not you too.” She jumps into her therapist mode, nearly repeating exactly what she’d said to you this morning. “This is no one’s fault except for Mariah. Not yours. Not Y/N’s, just that raggedy hoe.” 

Joe tries his best to heed to Alexis’s advice. “You’ve never liked her, right?” Alexis nods aggressively. “Why?” 

“I always felt like she was jealous of Y/N. Like….she benefited way more from her friendship with Y/N than Y/N did. When we were in college, Y/N was popular and well liked, and I get the sense that that’s always been the case. Mariah clearly benefited from that, so the jealousy wasn’t as bad, not enough for Y/N to notice it anyway.” Alexis starts to speculate, though she feels it’s more fact than hypothesis. “But then you come back in the picture, and the tide turns. Y/N gets the guy, the kid, the happy family. And then on top of all that, homegirl finally gets exposed, so Y/N, rightfully, cuts her off. But psycho-riah wasn’t having that.”

Laying it all out like that makes sense to both Joe and Alexis. It’s obvious Mariah is disturbed, because only a person not right in the head would do what she’s done. All of the things she’s done. But maybe it never got this bad because she and Y/N were always around the same level, both living in this small ass town, just raising their kids. 

Then he came in the picture, and she got jealous. 

It makes sense.

It also pisses him the fuck off. 

“This probably isn’t the right time to ask this, but I’m gonna do it anyway, because you never know when my warrant is gonna become active.” There’s such a casualness and nonchalant manner regarding how Alexis refers to her pending arrest, like it’s not that big a deal. And for her, it really isn’t. She knows her lawyers will most likely have her out on bond and charges dropped or dismissed by the end of the week. Hence her prying. “But just when in the hell do you plan to propose to Y/N?”

It’s definitely a 180 in topics that Joe wasn’t expecting, especially when she continues.

“I know it’s gotta be coming soon, because it’s obvious you love the mess out of her and want to be with her forever, but when, sir? Don’t be having my girl out here as a glorified girlfriend for too long, cause I don’t care how big you are, you can catch that Mariah Edition beating right along with her.” Joe smiles, shaking his head. It’s a much needed break from all the heaviness of the day. “And you best not get her knocked up again before it happens.” She considers her words and retracts. “Then again, ya’ll both freaky as hell and fuck like rabbits, so maybe that one is a stretch.”

With a casual shrug, Joe goes for his response. “Who says I don’t al—”

“Wait. Don’t say anything.” She interrupts, hands up as if remembering something. “I suck at keeping secrets, and I’m sure you’re gonna go all out for the proposal, so don’t tell me shit.” She nods, as if trying to convince herself that this is the safest and best route. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding. Then again, I’ll just show up anyway regardless.”

He has zero doubt she won’t.

But while Alexis' random tangent brings about brief relief, his mind easily switches back to the major issue at hand. 

“You know I’m right, Lex.” He looks at her, again reiterating, “they can’t stay here.” It’s in expressing her theory about Mariah aloud that helps Alexis realize Joe’s even more valid in his stance than she thought. “I can’t have this happen again. Y/N and Callie can’t have this happen again especially. They’re both a mess.” He looks down, jaw clenching. “I can’t see them go through this again.” 

There’s no desire or basis to argue. Alexis can’t imagine how difficult this must be for him as well. To see all this happening, to see the two people he loves the most be in pain and not be able to do anything about it. 

It’s gotta be torture.

She finally settles on a simple, basic answer. “You’re right.”

Joe is quiet for a few moments, expression indicating he’s searching and trying to navigate something. Alexis watches as he suddenly pulls out his phone, typing hurriedly. She figures he's sending a text to someone when he finally says, “I need you to do something for me.”

There’s not a second of hesitation. “Consider it done.”

“Good.” He doesn’t waste any time, recognizing every moment that passes is precious. “How quickly can you get a flight out to Florida?”

________

Before agreeing to take the tiny pink pill of sleep damnation, you made Joe promise to wake you up at 7am sharp. The home inspection was scheduled for 3pm, but you have something you need to do before then.

And Joe is true to his word, stirring you awake not a minute past 7.

Despite his protest and disagreement, you skip breakfast. It’s going on two days since you’ve actually had and retained a meal, but you can’t bring yourself to do so, your abs already sore from all the contractions that come with vomiting.

So, you settle on coffee and get to cleaning. Joe helps you, though there’s not much to be done, just little things that the average person wouldn’t pay much attention to. But, you’re not taking any risks. Your place needs to be as spotless as humanly possible. 

And you need to look as good as you can, so you spend much more time than necessary in the shower, scrubbing your body clean, shaving every piece of hair that doesn’t need to be there. All very much over the top, but you don’t care. You need to feel prepared. 

You even take on the daunting task of laying your mass of curls into a slick top bun. In your opinion, it’s always made you look ten times more professional. Even if it does take ten times as long to accomplish because of all your hair. 

Still, worth it. Everything is worth it if it means having your daughter back in your custody. 

It’s why you dig through your closet for the nicest set of business professional attire that you own, some nice dress pants and a white blouse that beautifully compliments your complexion. 

The top has always been a little snug around your chest, which is expected, even if feeling a little tighter than usual.

What you don’t expect or need is to slide on said pants only to find out you can’t get them to snap. Even the jump and wiggle to better adjust it over your ass and thighs isn’t enough to secure the button.

You stand there for a moment, only briefly stumped. You’re realizing that one of your earlier assumptions before this whole mess was correct.

You’ve put on weight.

It was something you first started to notice when you looked again at the post Alexis made of you on your Instagram. You could see it a little in your face, but mostly your ass and thighs. Thankfully, you’ve always typically carried your weight in all the right places. And it isn’t anything too crazy, maybe something only you notice because you know your body better than anyone.

But, it’s enough to where your go-to pants no longer fit. 

It’s not too concerning, especially with everything else you have going on. You’ve always yo-yo’d a bit with your weight and interestingly enough, the same happened in the months after your first meeting with Joe all those years ago.

“Happy weight,” you’re sure Alexis would call it. 

Sliding them off, you settle on another pair, close to your favorites and a size bigger. They snap closed, and that little thing makes you feel instantly relieved.

It’s another thirty minutes before you finally exit the bedroom, face beat in neutral yet professional makeup. Joe moves from where he was texting on the sofa and approaches you.

Concern is etched in the crinkles around his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“No. I—I got this. Go—go spend the day with Callie.” Because I’d do anything to be able to do just that. “You probably shouldn’t even be here around me.”

It’s partially true. Joe isn’t even on Callie’s birth certificate, so as far as the law is concerned, you’re the only parent under investigation. Still, the irrational fear is strong that they’ll find some reason to add him to the investigation if they find out he’s been interacting with both you and Callie.

You can’t even think about what hell it would be if Joe was also barred from having any engagement with Callie.

You couldn’t handle it. Callie couldn’t handle it. And Joe wouldn’t stand for it. You know that for certain. He wouldn’t give a damn what the law stated.

“Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.” His dismissal is swift and firm. You have a feeling there isn’t a force on earth that could keep him from being with you right now. From being around Callie. “Are you sure you don’t want to try to eat something?”

Shaking your head, you explain. “No. I can’t risk vomiting again. I drank some Gatorade. I’ll be fine.” You don’t have a choice. Voice softening, you apologize again. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I had no idea she could ever—“

He stops you before you can get choked up. Joe's hands are on your face, comforting, “none of this is your fault, and I don’t blame you for anything. None of it.” His thumb brushes softly against your cheek. “But….but I do think we need to discuss moving up the move date for you and Callie.”

“I know.” You're certain he expected more of a push back from you, some level of argument, but he won’t find it. Mariah has taken that right away from you. “We—we can talk about it more later, okay?”

Understandably, he’s pleased and brings his hand to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze. “You should get going.” He’s right. The sooner you tackle this, the sooner you can focus on nailing this visitation. 

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering as he murmurs, “I love you.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing those words leave his mouth, needing to hear them now more than ever. You’re so grateful for him and all he does. “I love you too.”

You’re grabbing your purse and keys off the key holder on the wall when he calls out your name. 

“Mariah didn’t say anything to you before this, right? Outside of the exchange that day you told me about?” His question takes you by surprise, and he adds, probably not wanting you to feel like you’re on the witness stand. “My lawyers want to know if we can establish a paper trail.”

He’d mentioned reaching out to his legal team to see what recourse was available, but it isn’t something you’re overtly thrilled about. You understand where he’s coming from, but that’s not a route you’re sure you want to go down. Legal battles, from what you know, can get really ugly. And there’s a massive fear that somehow Callie will get dragged into the mess, forced to answer to lawyers and judges.

Your baby’s been traumatized enough already.

It’s why you decide on an answer that’s not the truth, but what you feel is best for your daughter. Once this is all said and done, you just want to put this all behind you and focus on your family.

Besides, there’s nothing else Mariah can do at this point, no lower she can stoop.

“No.” Even as it leaves your mouth, there’s a deep, nagging feeling that you’ve made the wrong decision not being honest with him. “She never said anything.”

—---------

“Is Dr. Sawyer available?”

Your voice is strong, firm, the exact opposite of everything you’ve felt over the past 48 hours. It’s a great display of fake confidence. 

The receptionist looks up with a surprisingly friendly smile. “I’m sorry, do you have an appointment or—”

“I’m an old friend. I really need to talk to him. It’s, uhh, it’s an emergency.” It may be a bit of a stretch to call your desire to get some questions answered an emergency, but you’ll say and do whatever it takes to get Kai’s attention. “Tell him it’s Y/N.”

She asks you to give her a few minutes, and you decide to take a seat in the waiting area. Pulling out your phone, you text Joe to let him know you’ve made it here and ready to text your mom when you suddenly remember.

That’s been the other hard part of this debacle. Going through one of the hardest things you’ve ever endured and not being able to talk to your mom about it. If you had to choose between her guidance and your daughter being put under her care, you’d go with the latter every single time.

But that doesn’t take way the sadness you have at not being able to talk to your own mother. 

“Y/N?”

Lifting your attention form your phone, you’re met with Kai Sawyer’s signature smile. 

He looks both surprised and relieved to see you.

“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you—”

“No. Not a bother at all.” He sits down on the seat opposite of you, and given the only couple people in the ER are on the other side of the waiting room, you decide this is a safe place to talk. “I’m actually happy to see you Y/N.”

There’s something wary about his tone of voice, like he’s hinting at something he won’t outright say. That’s when you remember the sole reason Kai was even inserted into your life again, and it hits you. “DCFS spoke to you, didn’t they?”

It makes all the sense. Callie was rushed to the emergency room and had to undergo emergency surgery. You’re certain her medical records are also being reviewed, that kind of incident standing out to investigators.

Kai might be aware of the anxiety that’s starting to grow and proceeds to explain. “Yes, and I told them it was absolute bullshit.” His face takes on a look of disgust and irritation. “That it’s been years since I’ve seen a child so deeply connected and bonded with a parent like I saw with you and Callie. Her appendicitis and subsequent surgery was completely happenstance, and you did everything right.”

His words bring tears to your eyes. You know you’re a good mom and did the best you could that night, but it means a lot that Kai would defend you so staunchly who are trying to determine just that. “Thank you, Kai.”

“I didn’t say anything that was a lie.” His expression is sympathetic. “I’m really sorry this is happening to you, Y/N. Do you have any idea who made the call?”

“That’s actually why I’m here.” You blot at your eyes, not wanting to test the hold of this waterproof mascara. “Do you remember when you told me you were happy I got away from Mariah and Amir?”

“Yeah, why?” His eyes widen with shock. “Wait, did they—“

“It was Mariah.” Swallowing, there’s a bit of an edge in your voice as you explain. “That’s why I’m here. I need to know just who the hell I’ve called a best friend all these years, so much so that I made her Callie’s legal godmother.”

“Whoa, I thought—-you were still friends with her after all these years?” You shake your head yes, and he looks truly apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“That I’d been smarter? Yeah, me too.” Aside from depression and apathy, you’re struggling with beating yourself up for not recognizing sooner what kind of person Mariah truly is. How your oblivion could be strong. “Please, tell me what you know.”

He blows out a deep breath and leans back into the chair. “Well, I mean there’s no easy way to say this, but Mariah and Amir have been messing around since we were in high school.”

Your stomach drops. 

That’s…..that’s not what you were expecting to hear.

In a whispered, pained voice, you ask, “what?”

He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I don’t mean to get too personal, but I know it started around the time Amir was trying to pressure you into sleeping with him.” If not for the nature of the conversation, you’d find it a little adorable how he’s obviously trying his best to remain respectful. Kai has always been a genuinely decent guy. “He would constantly complain about you not ‘putting out’ around the locker room and during practice. And once he started hooking up with Mariah, he’d always brag about sleeping with the both of you.”

There’s so much to digest here. You’d figured Mariah and Amir were messing around after his slip around Christmas, but you figured it was a recent development. Now, you’re hearing that the girl you’ve considered a sister almost your whole life has been sleeping with the boy you once thought you loved from the very beginning?

“The times you couldn’t make it to parties, they’d be all over each other, but no one said anything because—”

“Because it was Amir,” you finish for him with a whisper. “He was the king of the school. No one would snitch on him, especially not his teammates.” You’re very familiar with the hierarchy and patriarchy of high school. You were the queen, just as much as he was the king, and everyone knew that you and Amir were always back and forth. They probably figured that you knew, or maybe they didn’t. You’re not so worried or stunned by just how many people knew and didn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter at this point.

What matters is that Mariah has always been a snake, a snake you brought around your child.

The child she got taken from you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything either—”

“No, don’t. You didn’t owe me anything.” It’s the two people who claimed to love and care about you who should have been honest. “I should apologize to you for dragging you into that bullshit. I’m really sorry, Kai. You didn’t deserve that.”

“We were kids, Y/N. Didn’t know any better.” Kai is clearly as uninterested in an apology from you as you are from him. “I’m sorry if this is too personal, but are you and Amir still….”

“No.” Just the thought alone nearly has you back to retching into the nearest toilet. “We were on and off friends with benefits since, well, high school. Outside of when I was with Callie’s dad for three years, but now Joe and I are back together. Have been for months.” There’s a small hint of excitement, the first non-sad emotion you’ve experienced in the past two days as you inform, “Callie and I will be moving to Florida to live with him.”

“Good.” Kai seems genuinely happy and pleased to hear this. “Hell, as a man, I can imagine he’d get you both on a plane out of here today if he could.” A small, sad chuckle leaves your mouth at his words. He’s probably not wrong. “You should have been left this place, Y/N. You deserve better. Always did. Get out of here and have a fresh start.”

The encouragement isn’t required but deeply appreciated. His openness and honesty provide you with a slither of relief. The information shared is something you’ll have to process at a later date and time, but it does answer some necessary questions you needed answered.

There’s no doubt in your mind at this point that leaving is absolutely what you need to do.

You just need to get through this nightmare first.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

why season 4 is actually one of debbie’s best seasons, not her worst.

i feel like when people talk about debbie gallagher, specifically when people who dislike debbie gallagher talk about her, they talk about the change from season 3 to season 4. how she changed from being a sweet innocent kid to a bratty obnoxious teenager. these comments are always so interesting to me because i feel like people’s weird perspectives kind of diminish the purpose of debbie in season 4 which is unfortunate because it really is such a good season for her.

“the change” in question wasn’t really a drastic change at all, her behavior has been basically the same for all eleven seasons. people say her personality changed when in reality, emma kenney changed. season 3 and 4 are supposed to happen very close together, which isn’t realistic considering when they started filming. by season 4, emma and ethan both look much older than they did in the previous season. for ethan, this doesn effect how people like his character because he is both a male and comedic relief, but for emma, this will effect her.

in season 2, debbie acts pretty similarly to how she does in season 4. in both seasons, debbie is obsessed with holly, making boys like her, and looking older than she is. but in season 2, emma kenney’s face is younger, her voice is higher, the clothes she wears don’t fit and the makeup she applies is applied sloppily because she’s so young; she acts cuter. people don’t take debbie trying to act promiscuous in this season seriously because of how little she looks, and two seasons later, the standards don’t seem to apply anymore even though emma kenney is still so young. even if she’s still young, her voice is less squeaky, her body is developing, the clothes fit better, and the makeup is still sloppy but for some reason, it doesn’t make her look as childish. anyone with half a mind can tell she’s a kid trying to look like an adult, yet for some reason, when she does it in this season as a thirteen year old, it’s completely different than when she did it as an eleven year old.

she stops being as cute, and so her personality doesn’t really work. debbie has always been intelligent, extra, sassy, loyal, and desperate for attention. she’s always had a debilitating fear of abandonment and issues with attachment. when you’re babyfaced and a kid, these traits are funny, then she starts to age and these traits aren’t cute, they’re annoying. when debbie kidnaps a baby in season 1 and fiona is asked why, she says, “it’s debbie”, and although debbie has just done something really bad, it being debbie is an explanation and somehow makes the situation better. later on, when she’s still a kid just a little older, if she does something like this, “it’s debbie” is a bad thing.

i think that if people want to go down the path of saying that she majorly changed or had a downfall, they should consider how her trauma actually did effect her around this time because yes, there were a few minor changes in her that are undeniable.

in season 3, she loses the trust of both of her parents. that’s something. she waits for a whole year for frank, setting up some sort of altar for him and praying. when he returns, she tries desperately to get his love and attention like she has been for the whole show, and it ends in him destroying her room and her school project, insulting her while she’s at it. and so, she goes batshit and starts hitting him as hard as she can. ever since season 1, debbie has been dependent on frank’s attention. she knows he’s bad and she knows what’s wrong with him but she doesn’t care as long as she can still find ways to squeeze a bit of love out of him. this is where that stops. this is where she changes some of her morals, because she realizes that her father won’t change and yeah, it does destroy her. then, he calls dcfs on the siblings and gets them separated, and debbie is put all alone in an abusive home. this is obviously going to destroy a girl with severe abandonment issues, not to mention a girl who has never been alone like this before. so when she gets out of that house, obviously she’s gonna be more traumatized. then, when they go to family court, she discovers that monica and fiona saw each other, and she doesn’t want to be their mother anymore. this breaks debbie even more, and she hears frank’s bullshit about how he loves his kids and even though she’s trying to make herself hate him, she still listens to it and testifies with carl. later on, when she’s talking to sheila and taking care of her, it’s revealed that debbie blames herself for monica leaving, and if monica were to return and stay she would forgive her and welcome her with open arms.

^ so with all of that considered, she’s gonna be fucked up. and that’s only part of the reason she acts the way she does. we have her parents absence, but also her older siblings. with her parents out of the way, she becomes more dependent on fiona, but fiona is now constantly at work, leaving them with sheila, and then… well, we all know what happens with fiona in season 4. as for lip, he’s off at college. that’s that. then, ian has run away and all they have is a couple of texts. she’s desperate to get him back but fiona assures her he’s fine, and she doesn’t believe it. so when she and lip go find ian, he’s different. he’s gone. frank and monica were the people she depended on, then they were gone, and now her older siblings, her three constants and role modes, seem to be gone, too.

debbie becomes colder because she is more alone. no parents, no parental figures, she becomes even more independent than she previously was. she decides she doesn’t need anyone. holly and ellie teach her about a new way to get attention, which is using her sexuality, something she never really tried to use for attention because she’s thirteen. she starts sexualizing herself, and holly tells her she likes matty, so she decides she does. and remember how debbie decided she didn’t need anyone to depend on? yeah, bullshit. matty is a new adult in her life and with frank dying, she needs someone for male validation. matty tells her she’s sexy and a great dancer, and he gives her food, lets her sleep in his bed, and gives her the attention she thinks that she needs. she doesn’t realize she’s being groomed, she thinks it’s love. he even promises to have sex with her when she’s 16 and he’s 23 because his main concern is if it’s illegal or not.

in season 4, debbie is left, used, bullied, humiliated, and ruined. she’s a thirteen year old girl, and being thirteen as a girl is rough. her mind is changing, along with her body, her family, her life, everything. debbie historically does horrible with change, it shouldn’t at all be surprising that she acts how she does. what people view as a bitch or a brat is so obviously a hurt, traumatized child and it’s almost disturbing that people don’t seem to see that. i’ve seen debbie mocked for matty, and while in season 5 the situation got worse, she didn’t do anything wrong in season 4. all that she did was have more attitude, but it was clearly a trauma response. debbie was ignored and hurt in season 4, she was a victim. and she was realistic. the change was expected and necessary for her character. case closed.

[gh0st-patr0l]

I cannot describe to you all how happy the mxm dcf teamup is making me. The VISCERAL disdain from Davis towards everyone else in the room. I need a mxm murder machines makeover NOW

[quill-pen]

@rom-e-o Imagine Orin rotting in prison and Oliver, I don't know, suffering away in his marriage to an abusive harpy of a woman who is never satisfied and demands he do everything from making money to taking care of the house and kids while she spends well above their means and fails horribly at being a "momfluencer" (seriously, they've had DCFS called on the several times--get it together, Abigail!), catching coverage of a red carpet event on the news. The Scrooges are there on the carpet, and both of their respective exes could look more genuinely glamorous, happy, or fulfilled than they do on the arms of their billionaire husbands who look just as genuine in their happiness and contentment. A newscaster makes some comments about "motherhood agreeing very well with Mrs. DoGoode-Scrooge--she's never glowed more brightly, and it looks like Mr. Scrooge agrees as he hasn't taken his eyes off her all evening" (I imagine the other inmates around Orin make less polite comments in agreement); Bess is quite obviously sporting a growing bump and is on the receiving end of many tender tummy-touches and loving smooches from her doting hubby. They are leading such amazing, meaningful lives and have turned into such vibrant, beautiful, strong, confident, kind, and loving women that any man would give all his limbs to be with. And Orin and Oliver? Not for the first time do they realize just how badly they fumbled such treasures and lost them forever. In fact, they lost out on life, while the women they tried to shrink and break are thriving in spite of them and all they did. The irony could almost be funny, if it didn't hurt so much.

[innytoes]

... "I may not be beautiful, but at least I know a lot of useless information."

reggie. please.

😩 okay i'll be done now

Reggie wasn't sure how he ever got an invite to tonight. Like sure, he knew Julie, she was practically his sister now, after her parents took him in (stole him, more like it) when they found out what was going on at home.

Reggie had been too young to entirely know the details, but from hearing tía Victoria shouting from downstairs about 'putting the cart before the horse' and 'your home study wasn't until next month', he was pretty sure it hadn't been done entirely by the book. But given the fact he'd passed out from neglect and DCF had been over to his house twice already and had done nothing, there was some leeway.

So yeah, he was basically a Molina now, even though the adoption was pending because the courts were backed up to the heavens. Which meant Julie was his sister.

And Julie knew Flynn. And Flynn was cool (and pretty). And Julie and Flynn knew Carrie. Who knew the Candis. Who were all also very pretty and very out of his league. And then the new guy at school showed up, the one with the killer cheekbones and the cute laugh and the pretty hair and...

And Reggie wasn't sure why he was here, except for the fact that Julie told him to bring his crochet stuff because they were 'having craft night'.

He loved craft night, okay? Julie and Flynn and him would turn on a crappy movie, and they'd each do their own thing. He'd crochet, Julie would draw, and Flynn would work on whatever project had caught her fancy this time. Sometimes it was making jewellery, sometimes it was diamond painting, sometimes it was gluing an insane number of googly eyes onto a phone case.

So he threw on his flannel, grabbed his bag with his current project (a baby yoda amigurumi), and followed Julie out the door, ready to head over to Flynn's.

Except there was a car waiting outside for them. Like, a fancy car. And when Julie pulled him in after her, he wasn't sure what to do except follow. Like, did he forget something? Flynn was already there, a giant tote on her lap.

It wasn't until they left the neighbourhood that Reggie spoke up. "So, um, where are we going?" And Flynn burst out laughing.

"You didn't tell him we're going to Carrie's place?" she asked, and Julie gave him an evil grin.

"I didn't want him to chicken out," she said sweetly. Because Julie knew that Carrie and her Candis intimidated the heck out of Reggie ever since he was smacked by the Puberty Stick and realised 'oh no, girls and boys are pretty'. So he'd been kind of avoiding them ever since Julie and Flynn made up with Carrie.

And thus, he was trapped in a car, going to Carrie Wilson's house, and now he was surrounded by beautiful people. And amazing snacks. And a TV three times the size of the one they had at home, playing a Gilmore Girls marathon on low volume.

(Every time Dean appeared on screen, two of the Candis boo'ed, while one other cheered, and the fourth took a shot of soda. He, again, was too afraid to ask.)

There were people knitting, drawing, making friendship bracelets, bedazzling a rather rad-looking jacket. Cute skateboard guy, who turned out to be named Willie, was attaching Worms On A String to one another to make long chains of them, explaining he wanted to make a curtain for his door. He seemed impressed by Reggie's Baby Yoda, and even more so when Julie whipped out her phone to show off some of the other things Reggie had made over the years.

It was entirely too much attention from entirely too many hot people, and he resisted the urge to talk. Because if he'd talk, he'd start spouting out stupid pick-up lines and he'd never be invited back. And also Julie would kill him. If Carrie didn't.

Eventually, he was saved by the Dean ("Booo!") and he could go back to counting stitches and eating fancy snacks and carefully, being so totally normal, complimenting bedazzling techniques.

Carrie Wilson smiled at him and it wasn't one of those smiles that made him worry she was going to stab him later, so that was cool.

Just when he thought he was safe from making a complete and utter buffoon of himself, a dark figure leapt over the back of the couch and plopped next to him, leaning over to grab one of the vegan spring rolls in one fluid movement.

Reggie looked up, a little bit startled, and then realised. Oh no.

Oh no, that was Bobby Shaw, his biggest crush. Bobby who was always cool and always wore black and red and always had a snarky comment in English class when Mrs Miller was picking on someone. Who swept his hair off his forehead during PE in a way that made Reggie wish he was better at sports. What was Bobby doing here?

"What are you doing here?" Carrie asked, but she asked it in a way that sounded a lot more annoyed than Reggie felt.

"There's snacks," Bobby pointed out, like that was reason enough.

"This is craft night," Carrie glared at him. "You have to be making something to join."

"I'm making you annoyed," Bobby said, popping another spring roll in his mouth before moving on to the cookies. "Oh fuck, is she still with Dean? Booo!"

Immediately, one of the Candis (the yellow one, maybe? He couldn't tell, out of costume they were not all as committed to the aesthetic as Carrie was) turned around and said: "Your cousin can stay." Then, she turned to Bobby. "Jess or Logan?"

"Paris." This got some shocked and awed looks, though Flynn and Purple Candi (he was pretty sure) cackled.

Oh. Cousin. Cool, cool, cool cool coolcoolcoolcool. That didn't make Bobby like ten times more intimidating to talk to. Nope, not at all.

Thankfully, the conversation carried on without anyone pointing out Reggie had recounted the stitches of this row eight times already because he kept getting distracted by how funny and cute Bobby was.

"And then," Probably Blue Candi said. "He asked me to knit him a sweater! Can you believe it?"

"What's wrong with knitting your boyfriend a sweater?" Willie asked, confused.

"It's the Sweater Curse," Reggie said. Willie blinked at him, so he went on. "If you knit your partner a sweater, you will break up with them."

"Because of a sweater?" Bobby asked, doubtful.

"Because you just spent hundreds of dollars on nice yarn, asking their opinions on colors and the material and size and shapes and finding a pattern and adjusting it to their size and then even more countless hours knitting it only for them to declare it's 'kind of itchy' and never wear it or they shrink it in the wash because they didn't listen to you and then shrug it off because it's 'just a sweater' and you realise you could have spent all that time and effort and money on making something for yourself instead of this asshole who never cared about your craft in the first place."

The room was silent when he stopped talking, and Reggie felt his face grow hot.

Okay, so maybe the nerdy crochet version of that was his last girlfriend who asked him to make a giant Snorlax, who got snippy when he wasn't done in two weeks, but the point still stood.

"Heck yeah!" Maybe Blue Candi said. "Reggie knows what I'm talking about."

"I may not be beautiful, but at least I know a lot of useless information," Reggie deflected.

"I dunno," Bobby said, and Reggie felt his heart sink. "You're pretty cute."

This time, it was Julie and Carrie doing the booing, but at the end of the evening he'd eaten a ton of snacks, finished Baby Yoda's body, and had Bobby's number in his phone.

He never made Bobby a sweater, but when he nervously gave Bobby the giant throw blanket for his bed on their three year anniversary, Bobby tackled him to the ground and gave him so many thank you kisses that Reggie knew no curse could take them out.