#but in my heart that man is a sad ex-husband and deadbeat father who is only capable when he has the strength of a polycule on his side

[to-be-a-dreamer]

See now I know logically in my brain thoughts that Etho is like. THE Minecraft legend but I've really only ever watched him in the Life Series where he is SILLY and PATHETIC so I find stuff like the reactions to him being in MCC so funny even though I know it's absolutely the correct response

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Eleven: The One With the Man on the Roof

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3336

All of her life as a mother, Lily has placed Hunter above herself no matter what. She had a long shift at the hospital but Hunter had the flu? She'd get someone to cover. She had plans to go for dinner with Gen, but Hunter had a project due the next day? She and Gen would eat in and help him. Nothing ever, ever, came between Lily's son and her. He was the center of her universe, and she would drop everything in an instant and come to his rescue. That's what moms did right? Make sure their son is safe and ensure the best in the world for him? That's what Lily did at least. She would go to the ends of the Earth and back for Hunter if she had to. No questions asked.

So whenever he called, especially when he was at Scott's, Lily's anxiety shot through the roof. Not to mention, of all things to say, he asked her to come and pick him up. Now, of course, she would not hesitate to go and get him. It was a no-brainer. The only issue was the fact Lily was half an hour away if there was no traffic, meaning whatever was going on at Scott's would have to continue for a solid thirty minutes minimum.

"What's going on baby why do you need me to come to get you?" Lily asked, green eyes darting over her shoulder to look at the group that was still seemingly having a great time. But she caught Bucky's eye, and they stood there for what felt like an eternity. His diamond blue eyes seemed worried, his eyebrows knitted in concern at the scared look on Lily's face as she spoke to her son on the phone.

"The babysitters asleep on the couch and a man keeps banging on the door asking for Dad," Hunter answered, his voice shaky as he whispered, "I have Leila in bed with me but Mom I'm so scared please come get us."

Her stomach did a flip. It took everything inside of her not to drop the phone and sprint to the car, not wasting any time telling anybody what was happening. Adrenaline pumped through Lily's veins as she covered her mouth. Tears welled up in the tear ducts of the blonde's eyes and she made quick work blinking them away. Her throat went dry and all of the salivae in her mouth seemed to disappear. Her son was in danger. And Scott wasn't home. Of course, he wasn't...Lily wasn't sure what else she expected from him.

"Call 911 right now. I'm on my way. Stay where you are with Leila. Do not get off the phone with police," Lily rambled, stalking back over to the group and grabbing the purse she had brought along with her, "I love you Hunt I'll see you soon."

And with that, the line went dead as her son followed his mother’s instructions. The abrupt actions of Lily had caught the Avenger’s attention as they watched her scurry around to find all of her belongings, muttering curse words and not so meek names towards her ex-husband seemingly. Lily was a kindhearted person, she wouldn't even hurt a fly. Yet the moment, nay, the second, it had been brought to her attention that her son was in danger on her ex's watch because he had decided to go to a party? That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This would become messy if she didn't lose her temper and kill Scott herself.

"Woah Woah Lil what're you doing?" Rose questioned as she placed a gentle hand on her sister's arm. Immediately, Lily shrugged it off as her head popped up to look at her younger sister with tears rolling down her cheeks. A hush fell over the crowd like a heavily weighted blanket as the lights around the roof lit up the sadness and desperation on Lily's face.

"There's a man at Scott's pounding on the door. That motherfucker went out and left the kids home with a deadbeat babysitter asleep on a couch..." Lily trailed off as the words escaped her lips. Saying it out loud was completely different than hearing her son say it on the phone. It was really happening. Hunter was in danger and his own father wasn't even home.

A part of Lily blamed herself for the events that were unfolding. If she had just listened to Hunter when he asked for her to take full custody over him. To stop sending him to his dad’s where Scott was hardly home. If she had just listened to her heart instead of her head, Hunter would be safe. He wouldn't be in his current predicament. He'd be safe at home, probably asleep in bed with Lily or Joey in his room. She'd be able to keep tabs on him. Make sure he was secure. Healthy. Safe. Out of harm’s way. Whatever you wanted to say. But no, she listened to the doctor inside of her head about the development of children and how a father/son relationship was important. But mostly, she blamed her deadbeat ex that put his children in that situation, to begin with. Not even just Hunter, but Leila. A three-year-old girl who had no business being left alone with a babysitter and her brother. She was a baby, and Scott put his own entertainment ahead of his children.

"That son of a bitch!" Gen exclaimed while jumping to her feet and handing Rose, the only 100% sober one of the trio, the keys to the car, "Thank you for having us but I have a man to murder." The brunette snapped while making a b-line towards the door down from the roof, Rose and Lily following in her tracks.

Rose's hands rested on her older sister's shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. It was something that the two have done for years. Whenever Lily got worked up and her anxiety reached a peak, Rose's soft hands would grip onto her shoulders and run patterns and shapes along the skin. It reminded Lily that she would be okay, that whatever situation that had caused her anxiety to skyrocket, would be over soon and everything would be okay. A reminder that no matter the circumstances, Rose would always be in Lily's corner, rooting for her and cheering her on. And hopefully, this small action would at least help the rapid heartbeat that pounded away in Lily's chest find a steady rhythm. Of course, then the all mighty steve rogers piped up.

"Why don't we give you a ride on the Quinjet? It'll get you there faster." he offered, causing a small tear to roll down Lily's rouged cheeks. Rose, Gen, and her came to a halt and turned back to the group that looked at the mother with worry in her eyes. Before Lily could respond, the Captain spoke once again, "Or at least let one of us come with you...just in case." he finished, nudging his elbow into Bucky's side.

Even when an event like this is going down, steve rogers stays being a little shit.

"Yeah, that may actually be good. We don't know if we'll get there before the police, or if Scott is home," Rose answered, glancing down at her sister, "You know how he is when he drinks, Lil. You can't take him...and much to her dismay, neither can Gen."

Lily's puffy eyes looked up at her best friend who begrudgingly agreed with Rose's statement, prompting the Winter Soldier to jog forward and follow the girls out to the car. Lily took a seat in the back row of the car, holding her arms tightly around her chest as she glanced at her phone, checking the time. Knowing that at any moment, she could get a call telling her the worst. Or worse, getting a call from Scott. Just the idea of his face made anger boil deep within Lily, which resulted in her bundling her hands into fists so tight that the knuckles turned a sickly shade of green. How could he be so irresponsible? They had been divorced for four years. Lily stood up for him. vouched for him to her parents. Convinced her son it's good to visit. To see his dad and spend time with him. But now? God...Lily wished he would just fall off the face of the earth and she would never have to see him again.

-----

Arriving in Brooklyn a solid half an hour later, Lily spotted flashing police lights dancing across brick walls of the apartment complex. The moment that Rose had stopped the car, Lily ran out faster than the flash. She spotted Hunter sitting in the back of an ambulance with Leila and the blonde basically tackled the two children in a tight hug. She held them close, whispering prayers to the good Lord above. Tears streaked her face, causing valleys to open up along her makeup-covered cheek. She didn't want to let go, she wanted to hold her biological child, and one that wasn't even remotely related to her, and keep them out of harm’s way.

"Ma'am is this your apartment building?" a deep voice of a police officer boomed, causing Lily to release the two kids to turn around and see the tall man behind her. His shoulders were broad and his neck seemed to be the same size as Lily's head. Just looking at the stance he held made Lily tense up, her mouth running as dry as the Sahara desert. But it was Hunter’s small hand gripping onto her's, that sent a rush of newfound confidence through her body.

"No, this is my ex-husband’s apartment. I'm this boy’s mother," Lily stated, fumbling through her purse and gripping her wallet. She tugged out her driver’s license for ID purposes, leaning down to kiss the top of Hunter’s head, before returning her worried eyes back to the officer in front of her, "Did you get the person?"

By the tense look on the officer’s face, Lily guessed the answer would be a no. Tears welled up in her green eyes, and Lily dropped down onto the ambulance between the two kids. The mother bear instincts that welled up inside of Lily's stomach were yelling at her to go and find that son of a bitch who scared her little boy. Smack him all the way to next week and make him feel the pain he had caused her and her son. But the rational part of Lily reminded her she would only create more problems if she did that. She would be the one losing custody of her son because they would probably deem her dangerous and arrest her for...you know, assault. For now, she would sit with the two shaken children, and wait for this to blow over and for the police to find the sorry son of a bitch who dared scare Lily Osborne's son. And then take the father of her child to court and receive full custody of Hunter. Because this...this was unacceptable.

But then a small voice perked up. A meek, scared voice of a little girl. shaky. And it came from Lily's left side. Leila. The little girl had spoken, "The roof." This prompted both Lily and the officer's head to shoot to the side, and both spotted a shadowy figure glancing over the edge. Lily gasped and held both children closer to her chest.

The officer called the others to go to the roof. All pulling their guns from their holsters in preparation, just in case the man was as violent and aggressive as the two children had described. As Lily watched, her hands covering her son and Leila's eyes as police stormed in through the front doors. But she spotted someone, what she had believed to be a police officer, climbing up the fire escape. But then the streetlights reflected a silver arm, sending a glare into Lily's eyes. Bucky. He ran up the fire escape with such anger that Lily could sense the aura all the way from the ambulance at the bottom of the apartment building. Whoever decided to attempt a break-in or try some sort of intimidation at Scott's apartment, most likely, had no intention of ending up face to face with the winter soldier.

"Is that Mr. Barnes on the roof?" Hunter asked, surprising Lily. Glancing down, she saw that she had let her hands drop in shock, resulting in both kids becoming witnesses to the scene. Scoffing, Lily covered their eyes once more, ensuring that whatever violence or trauma that would take place would be hidden by her pale and cold hands.

Lily, however, would become witness to the entire scene unfolding. Watching from afar, she spotted Bucky's metal arm gripping the figure’s neck and holding him above his head. A gasp escaped from Lily's plush lips as she squeezed her own eyes shut. She had heard the stories of the Winter Soldier. The assassinations that HYDRA had forced the man to commit. They had made his brain into putty, moulding it to their will so that they could inflict pain and suffering on whoever they deemed deserved it. But Lily also knew that he had been saved. That the chemicals in his mind had been removed by a brilliant scientist whose name became blank in Lily's mind. But seeing him choking the person on the roof, Lily feared he was not better. That he still had those awful things in his head. That he was dangerous. Especially when her child and her son's half-sister clung to her. As well as her best friend and sister watching the scene from the car.

But when Lily forced her eyes open again, she saw Bucky stand to the side of the roof while the police officers handcuffed whoever it was that had committed this crime. A little breath of relief danced past Lily's lips as she watched Bucky retreat down the fire escape, landing on the solid grown with ease. His thick legs carried that gorgeous frame of his towards Lily, and her shoulders tensed out of habit. But the way his facial expressions changed made her realize...he thought she was scared of him now. That whatever he had done on the roof created a new picture of him in her eyes. Sure it did at first, but he corrected it when he stood to the side afterwards.

"They've got him..." his gruff voice stated, steel blue eyes avoiding any contact with the deep greens of Lily's. He became timid, as though any small teasing comment would destroy any shred of confidence in his body. Lily had no idea the effect she had on him. How what she thought of Bucky was a make or break for him. She herself was so reserved. Distant from people. That they were almost two halves of the same whole. But her view of him...he wanted her to see nothing but goodness in him. And a little bit inside of him continued to scream that she only saw the monster that he was.

"Thank you Bucky," Lily smiled, something small and delicate that had the man become weak in the knees. But then she continued, and a small bit of his heart grew even larger and more fond of the blonde mother, "Upstate is a while away...would you like to um...stay in my spare room? Just for the night so Rose doesn't have to do that drive again."

Whether it was the beer that was singing a sweet song in Lily's mind, or the killer adrenaline rush that she was experiencing, her confidence was through the roof. Her fears seemed to disappear in an instant, creating a new side of Lily. Her son was safe and the asshole that scared him was in cuffs. Alcohol plagued a small place in her mind, and Bucky had just shown a new side to him as well. A protective side. One that he seemed to have gained for the Osborne family at the beginning of this story. Whether it was Lily's infectious smile or the way Hunter looked at him like he was the entire world. He had vowed to be there for them. No matter what it was.

"Oh...I mean if Rose doesn't want to make the drive..." the man stated, his voice cracking halfway through as he glanced over at the other two girls that rushed forward to join in on the conversation, "But isn't she staying with you?"

"Nope. Tonight I'm staying with Gen. Girls night or something. And I don't wanna drive. Hate it. Terrible. You have to stay with Lily it's final." Rose rushed, pushing forward and yanking Hunter into her arms, holding the shaking boy as she kissed the top of his head.

Before Bucky could reply, a car came to a screeching halt at the base of the apartment building’s driveway. A yelling man exploded from the car, along with a crying woman. Scott and Mary. Whatever adrenaline that Lily had leftover, shot through her as she jumped to her feet, standing in front of Hunter and Leila between Scott and them. The taller man was huffing and puffing as his hazel eyes scanned everyone around them.

"Lily, move," he ordered, face beet red as he stared down at the woman he cheated on. The anger inside of her eyes startled him at first. The mother’s instincts she wished to take out on the criminal deflecting on to her son's father. A little body pushed past both as Leila ran into her mother’s arms, and neither Lily nor Scott broke eye contact with each other. All of the pain he had caused her seemed to grow to a head, and everything inside of her kept Lily from reaching up and punching him square in the nose.

"You are a father. Scott. The judge granted you partial custody because I asked her to. Because I believed you would finally step up and care and love Hunter. But instead, you leave a deadbeat babysitter home with two children." Lily began, her voice steady and even as her bottom lip quivered, "A son needs his father. And you have been nothing short of an acquaintance to him. So congratulations. You just fucked yourself over."

Before Scott could even retort the smack-down that Lily just dished out to him, Mary piped up. Her voice shaking and broken, "Scott you told me your mother was watching them. Lily I met him at our friends after work, I hadn't come home." she sobbed, gripping her young daughter tight as she walked forward, an apologetic and terrified look on her face.

Lily nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around Mary, holding her close before letting her go talk to the police with Leila. This left Scott staring down at Lily, who had Gen, Rose, Hunter, and the Winter Soldier standing behind her. it took Scott a moment to process the fact a superhero was now standing with his ex-wife and son. And a pang of jealousy shot through him, or maybe rage. Rage that she had moved on. Gotten over the pain he had caused. Or so he thought.

Instead, the longer she stared at him with a death glare, the more memories rushed back into Lily's minds. The way he would stand over her as though he could hurt her. Then claiming it was fine because he never hit her. or the way he would spit names at her after an argument. The way his fists would ball up. How he would punch holes into the wall that Lily had to fix because he didn't want to pay for them to be fixed. Nor did he want to fix them. The times she would place Hunter back down in his crib and then fall to her knees in tears, remembering how he slammed the door and walked out.

"You are done being a father, Scott. I'm taking full custody."

[athenadcvell]

The Mechanic: Pt. 2

Link: Part 1

Summary: This is the second part to the first part of The Mechanic. Basically about Harley surviving the snap and becoming apart of Tony’s family. May or may not make more parts, we’ll see.

Word Count:

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Tony was never the biggest fan of post-apocalyptic movies.

They were all so… unrealistic. If the world ended, the Avengers would be there to pick it back up. It wouldn’t resemble those over dramatic, grey skied dystopias where everybody is always depressed.

However, then the world actually ‘ended’. And the world may have not been completely like those movies, but it was pretty damn similar.

And that’s why Tony made it his number one priority to keep all sadness and despair away from his sweet little home in the woods. Away from his family.

Family.

Just a few years ago, Tony could barely say he had a family. There was Rhodey, and Happy, plus the rest of the Avengers, but in the end, Tony would go home to an empty house. Then, Pepper gave him a second chance, and even with the snap killing away someone he had held so close to his heart, he had found it in him to rebuild from the rubble.

That’s why now, as he picked up spare clothing around the house for the laundry, Tony cant help but stop and smile as his family peacefully sits in the living room. Not just his wife, but also Harley, who he had legally adopted not too long ago.

A very pregnant Pepper lay on the couch, reading whatever book she had picked out this time, with Harley, cross legged on the floor playing a video game. Tony wasn't quite sure what game he played, but he knew it managed to consume most of his attention as of late.

“Harley,” Pepper looked up from her book, barely managing to catch the teens attention. “Could you grab me a glass of water?”

Harley turned around, raising a brow at the glass sitting on the table.

“I got that one for you, like, five minutes ago. You already finished it?”

“There’s another human being in me, consuming almost everything I consume,” Pepper deadpanned. “Excuse me for being thirsty.”

Harley dropped the remote, holding his hands up and muttering a sorry as he went to complete the task.

“Don’t even try arguing with her,” Tony said quietly as Harley passed him. “Especially In this state, there’s no chance in winning without unleashing the monster.”

It earned him a small laugh, which was enough for Tony. When Harley had first begun living in the compound, there was rarely a smile on his lips. It was expected. His family was dead, he had just hiked for days with nothing but a small backpack and survivor’s guilt… it would be tough for him to get back to his usual self.

However, not too long after moving into the cabin, things started to look up. Pepper announcing she was pregnant. Planning for their small little wedding in front of the lake. A family was built from broken pieces, and though Harley would still wake in the middle of the night with nightmares, or have a breakdown at random moments if he happens to find something triggering, both Pepper and Tony were always there for him.

Harley left down the hall to retrieve the water, while Tony and Pepper returned to their tasks. The chiming of the doorbell broke concentration.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, who is it?” Tony asked.

“Not sure, boss,” The A.I. responded, projecting an image on Tony’s watch. A man he didn’t recognize stood at the doorway awkwardly, dark haired and blue eyed. He frowned down at the picture.

“Who is it, Tony?” Pepper looked from her book, noticing her husband’s troubled expression. Tony shook his head, giving her a small smile.

“Probably just some lost hiker. I’ll go shoo him off,” Setting down his basket, Tony walked over to the door and opened it, giving the man a polite smile, while remaining alert in case of attack. “Can I help you?”

The man’s gaze shifted from his shoes to the now open doorway, clearly exhausted. There was something… familiar about him. Tony couldn’t quite place what.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m looking for two kids,” The man explained, running a frantic hand through his hair.

Tony’s heart dropped at his words, as pieces began to click together, He refused to give in just yet.

“Kids?” He repeated, clicking his tongue. “Not sure I can help you. Sorry about that,” Tony moved to shut the door, however, the man was quick to place a hand on it. Tony stared at the hand on his door, then back at the man. Some nerves this guy had.

“Harley and Sarah Keener,” The man continued, ignoring the hard set gaze Tony was giving him. “Please, I need to find them. I-I need to know if they’re still alive.”

“If you’re looking for someone, then go to the tombstones. Everyone dead is listed there,” Tony knew it was cruel to turn this man away, especially considering who he was. But he doesn’t care. He won’t jeopardize his family. “Other than that, I think you should leave.”

“They’re my kids, please!” The man exclaimed.

Tony knew. A part of him knew the second F.R.I.D.A.Y threw up the projection. However, there is a fine line between thinking you know, and actually knowing. And he has just crossed it.

“Please,” The man repeated, his voice cracking. “My name is Jack Williams, and if you know where they are-”

“Harley’s here,” Tony snapped, cutting him off. He could lie, turn him away. But that wasn't his choice, and he then realized that. Harley should have been able to make that decision on his own.

“W-what?” Jack’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harley’s in the kitchen right now,” Tony explained nonchalantly. “He lives with me and my wife now, after his mom and sister died. Oh, and after you decided to make a one way trip to 7-Eleven.”

Jack’s eyes gazed down as he processed the information. His ex: Dead. Daughter: Dead. But his son? Sitting inside that house, not a clue that his deadbeat father was waiting outside, hoping for some kind of reunion.

“Then let me see him,” Jack frowned at Tony, trying to step into the house. His path is immediately blocked.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tony stares at him coldly, pushing his shoulders back. “You take one more step towards this door, and I’ve got about a hundred security protocols that I can initiate with just one word. And guess what? They all end with your ass six feet in the ground, and Harley doesn’t ever have to know you were here.”

Pepper has caught sight of what is going on at this point, silently watching her husband handle this. She would intervene, however, being as pregnant as she is, she doesn’t want to risk the baby.

“But I won’t,” Tony continued, easing the stiffness in his shoulders. No use getting worked up for this waste of space. “That’s Harley’s decision.” Jack opened his mouth to object, but the door had already been shut in his face.

“Tony?” Pepper sighed, searching her husband’s face for some kind answer. She’s become fluent in reading him, but this is an all new emotion all together. A fatherly one.

“Sorry that took so long, I found a spider and was trying to get it outta the house,”

Harley announced as he exited the kitchen, running a hand through his brown locks while carrying a chilled glass of water in the other. Pepper silently took it from him, trying her best to put on a grateful smile. It came out morbid.

Harley’s own smile faltered at her grim features, turning to Tony, who didn’t even attempt to cover the mixed feelings of emotions written across his eyes and lips.

“What’s going on?” The teenager turned between the two, clearly confused.

“Your father's here,” Tony doesn’t try to sugarcoat or ease into the topic. It’s best to just rip it off like a bandage, which he does, and Harley’s response is just as expected.

“W-what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if a lower tone would mean the words would just rewrite themselves.

“He wants to see you,” Tony stared at the floor, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Did you tell him to go?” Harley asked, swallowing thickly. Tony gazed up, his brows furrowing together. Not angrily, but… sadly.

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell him to go. He’s not here for me,” Harley sucked in a sharp breath, wordlessly walking to the door. He walked in quick, loud steps, but there is a cave in his shoulders from the fear and nervousness. Why wouldn’t he be? He spent countless nights running to his parents’ bedroom for his father’s comfort, only to find an empty bed. With his mom working such long nights, Harley was basically the parent for his sister. He did his father’s job. And now he’s here, wanting some sort of relationship with the child he left behind.

What gives him the right? The anger boils in Harley, and he wants to yell, and scream at Jack. That’s all he wants, at this moment. And yet, all he can do is stand in front of the door with shaking hands. Like some sort of coward.

“I can tell him to go, Har,” Tony gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Pepper added, to let him know he had both of their support. Harley shook his head, slowly wiggling out of Tony’s grasp.

“No. I can do this,” He stated firmly, praying they don’t see how badly his hand trembles as he opened the door.

A part of him hoped that Jack had already left, disappeared from his life for a second time.

His heart dropped when he saw him sitting on the steps of the porch.

As soon as he saw his son, Jack sprang up, hope filling his eyes. It was odd, the way he looked, to Harley. When you’re a child, you worship the ground your parents walk across. They are pure and sinless creatures who seem like Gods. But now? Harley realizes how flawed they really are.

Jack isn’t quite as tall as he had always imagined him. Taller than Tony and Pepper, but still an inch or two beneath Harley. He looks different, as well. It may be the stress, or age, but Harley doesn’t remember his father looking so disheveled, like someone had picked him hungover from a bar. Perhaps that’s exactly what this ‘look’ is.

“Hey, buddy,” Jack grinned, and it seemed to wide. Too fake. His eyes are the most unsettling part. They’re identical to Harley’s. Funny. With the lack of photos in the house, Harley had just always assumed his father had brown eyes. Guess not.

“Hello, Jack,” Harley blinked, trying his best to keep a stoic expression.

“How are you,'' Jack ignored the cold tone, his foot tapping anxiously. He looked up at the house, grinning. “Nice place you got here, huh? They treating you alright?”

“Better than you ever did,” He can’t help it. Harley’s still a teen. Meaning he can’t exactly hold back cruel comments. Not that this is mean. Jack doesn’t even know mean, yet.

“I deserve that,” Jack nodded, his smile vanishing. He walked forward suddenly, causing Harley to flinch. His entire body stiffened up when Jack deemed it okay to wrap him in a tight hug. “I’m so, so sorry, bud. I should’ve never left, I should have stayed with you and your-”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Harley can’t be a feelingless robot anymore and just simply tell Jack to leave. He thought it would be that simple, but it's not. He yanked Jack’s hands off of him and pushed him away. “I was seven when you left! I was a kid! And now, you’re crawling back! Where do you get off thinking you can just do that?!” Harley screamed, his voice cracking at the end. Jack is stunned by the outburst.

“I-”

“Please, for the love of God, leave,” Harley rubbed his face, turning away as the tears begin to fall.

“Son,” Jack began softly, not giving up. “We’re family. After all that’s happened, family has to stick together.”

“No!” Halrey whipped around, no longer caring if Jack saw the broken pieces he caused. He jabbed a finger violently at his father’s chest. “You are not my family! You were never my family. My family is dead! They-” He cried, pointing at the door. “-are my family now. They love me, and they would never leave me one night because they felt ‘overwhelmed’. You’re a coward, and a deadbeat. You… You need to go,” Harley doesn’t wait for a reply. He can’t. He turned and rushed back inside..

His body shook violently in sobs as he slammed the door closed and fell to his knees. He’s thought of what to say to Jack’s face for years, and when the time comes? He can only get a few sentences out before the emotions rack up and cave in on him. It’s just like all those nights, when he feels so alone that it becomes too much to handle.

But this time, it’s different. Because he’s not alone. Harley is made very aware of that as soon as Tony’s arms wrapped around him, a safe haven from the cruel hands of his real father.

“It’s not fair!” Harley cried, running frantic hands through his hair. “Why does he get to live? Why does my mom and sister die and he gets to live?!”

“I know, kid,” Tony rubbed his back, sighing. “It’s not fair. But you did good out there,” Tony pulled back, staring Harley firmly yet kindly in the eyes. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

And that’s all Harley really needs to hear. A phrase he didn’t have the privilege of hearing very often of growing up. A phrase he had never heard from his father.

And yet, that’s the difference between Jack and Tony. Jack is Harley’s father. But Tony?

Tony is the closest thing to Harley’s dad. To his home. He and Pepper both. And Harley will take that.

[apostateangela]

Neurotheology Part 1

I have been tasked to write this post.

I’m not sure if I can do it, let alone do it well.

But I am willing to fight long and hard to understand the truth of what has happened to me.

This blog is a tool that helps me do that

while also sharing that truth with others- in case that can be of help.

So I will try.

The revelation that has come to the forefront the days immediately surrounding when I started this post and for months afterward,

because of my own life and thoughts and an intense therapy session,

has shaken me deeply.

I don’t know how to reconcile it

other than with sorrow and even shameful despair.

I’ll weed through that part somehow.

I wish I knew how to isolate the phenomenon connected to said revelation, but I really don’t.

It will help if I explain the thought processes leading up to the revelation.

After the tithing post I had a conversation with my mother. I have explained before that my mother and I have a somewhat strained relationship. She is more programmed than I was/am. Because of this fact, she often doesn’t have the vocabulary to talk with me outside of the paradigms created by the Mormon church.

She is trying, because of her love for me.

That is quite remarkable and should give hope to those of you out there who find themselves estranged from overly judgemental parents and family.

It is possible for them to put aside that judgement

and try to understand because of their love for you.

My mother is trying, and it is as beautiful as it is frustrating.

Anyway, during this conversation she made the prescriptive comment that maybe if my daughter (her granddaughter) would pay her tithing and live more righteously then God would improve her financial situation and also soften the heart of her boyfriend who is somewhat of a deadbeat.

This is both horrible and laughable.

One of the things I didn’t really go into in the last post was how not paying your tithing is used by others in a more personal way to make you feel guilty and irresponsible because of your sin--that of robbing God or not paying your tithes.

The attitude is that this sin deprives you of blessings that would otherwise be yours (even outside of the blessings received from participating in the ordinances).

Which explains my mother’s approach here; God given blessings she describes as more financial security and the change of personality traits in my daughter’s boyfriend.

Here is where the revelation begins.

My comment to my mother was this:

“I think that instead of (granddaughter) relying on God to fix her situation she should take responsibility for herself and get a better job and dump (boyfriend) or at the very least stop relying on him for any kind of support, financial or otherwise.

It’s HER job, not God’s, to make these decisions for herself.

Tithing is pretty irrelevant in this case.”

As an interesting side note my mother eventually agreed.

Here’s where the epiphany kicks in; as I thought about my daughter’s situation, it brought me back to my own.

Ultimately, iit was MY choice to marry and stay married to an asshole.

Quarter of a century of abuse aside, I chose it.

I am responsible for that choice, right?

I have to own something here.

Just like my daughter has to own choosing to be with a dishonest, unreliable man who can’t commit or follow through with anything.

The question really isn’t whether I am responsible but rather WHY I did something so very stupid?

A cliche and easy answer is that I thought I was in love, or I WAS in love and people do stupid things for love.

But that is not really true.

I married him because God told me to.

At least that is what I have believed up until a few days ago.

Okay, I’m going to digress here. Because there are forks and backtracks and lots of twists on this particular path.

I am having an ongoing problem where I hate myself.

Yeah, I know, that is nothing new.

But this is a bit different.

As I spend more and more time inside my new self, my recently discovered self, and in the newborn paradigms I have fought for the last 3 years to establish, I find that I travel further and further away from who I was--the weak, pathetic Mormon woman who did as she was told and pushed down anything interesting in her personality because it was considered wrong.

I feel like I’m living in a parallel dimension. In fact, thanks to the new popularity of Quantum theory and the imagination of the MCU, I buy into this idea personally and metaphorically at the very least.

And the woman in that other dimension, I HATE HER!

I believe she is weak and stupid and easily manipulated and that is everything I do not want to ever be again.

I talk about her in third person. I have even said that I want to KILL her.

On some level I know this is problematic.

So of course, I brought it up to my therapist the other day along with the phone call I had with my mother about tithing and my subsequent epiphany that somewhere in my past there must have been an initial choice to be with my ex which I had to own.

And so my therapist had me dig into the moment I made the choice to marry him. He believed it was important to explore the events and understand how and why I made the choice.

One August day when I was nineteen years old, I was sitting at the family piano in my childhood home. I was in quite a bit of agony, in every way. I was physically ill (I had mono, but I didn’t know it yet). I was emotionally and mentally in distress (spiritually too if that is a thing, I thought it was then). I had recently returned from a summer job at a mountain camp where I had explored some “sin”. (drinking, sexual exploration/but not intercourse) I had been to speak with my Bishop and had confessed my “sins”. He had been very critical and condescending and I left his office feeling like I had committed the worst of deplorable and depraved acts. His comments and my upbringing had me believing no one would ever want me as I was soiled and ruined. And beyond that, my father had been yelling at me for several days to get out of bed, stop being lazy, and do something with my life because he wasn’t going to support me anymore.

I was sick, bereft, alone, afraid, and ashamed.

To help you understand, even though I have written about this shame before, I draw your attention to this image I very recently came across that brought back the amplitude of my constructed shame. I remember the exact day President Romney (apostle and second counselor in the First Presidency of the LDS church in the 80s). I was eleven; watching General Conference with my parents and brothers on the television. For context, the statement is something Romney’s father told him once and that he directed then to us. He ended his instruction with this statement, “You young people—May I directly entreat you to be chaste. Please believe me when I say that chastity is worth more than life itself. This is the doctrine my parents taught me; it is truth. Better die chaste than live unchaste. The salvation of your very souls is concerned in this.” Afterwards, my mother had a long talk with me about the topic in which she agreed with Romney and used the talk as a way to bring my attention to my impending entry into womanhood as a 12 year old girl, the age you graduated from the Primary children’s church program and into the youth, Young Women’s program.

Did I want to die because of my unchaste actions in New Mexico? Sure. I’d wanted to die for quite some time at this point in my teenage years. Had come close to attempting it even at 17. The feelings connected with this were because I was never good enough, ever. I tried so hard to please everyone and be perfect, but always failed. The church and my parents and my culture dictated these parameters that became the perfect atmosphere for suicidal thoughts. When you feel like you are bad, never good enough, always letting others down--including God, it was hard to want to be alive. Repentance existed, but it was always preceded by crushing shame. That was the intent, to tear you down with shame, almost to death, so that your only option was to turn to God for reprieve.

That day, I was perfectly primed.

Wanting these horrible feelings, any of that pain to go away I did what I was taught to do.

I sank from the piano bench onto my knees and prayed. I poured my sorrow out to God and begged Him for forgiveness, love, and to take my pain away. Alone in my house, I sobbed and prayed out loud, nearly wailing. After a period of emptying and the hollow, spent calm that followed, I asked God a desperate question: “What do I do now?” thinking that if no one would want me, even if God forgave me, what was I to do?

It is important to note that two days before I had received a strange phone call. A woman had called me from Iowa. She introduced herself as a Sister------,a ward missionary. She asked me a question, “I want to know how you feel about Elder ----- (The man that was to be my husband, let’s call him John)?”

I was taken aback.

I’d met John at work, six weeks before his mission, nearly two years previously--when I was still in high school. We’d had a quick, G rated, whirlwind chivalric romance before he left. I’d written him some letters, but not many.

I’d been busy sticking my toes in the waters of sin.

I didn’t want to tell this stranger on the phone how I felt about John when I didn’t really know how I felt about him myself.

The woman was kind and persuasive.

She told me that he’d been at her home that very day, in tears, wondering if I still loved him.

He was sad and desperate and had confided in her how much he loved me.

It was a beautiful tragic scene. One any girl waiting for her Prince Charming would find extremely flattering--a silly, young idealistic girl like me.

My heart burned and tears of love sprang to my eyes. I told that stranger to go ahead and tell John that I still loved him and if he wanted me to come to the airport in five days when he came home to meet him, I would.

Cut back to me, on my knees praying in desperation.

I felt a burning inside my chest, I felt a voice inside my mind. And the answer was that I was to marry John, and as soon as possible. It felt as if a bolt of energy had entered me at the top of my head and filled me. I began to cry again and wander my house shooting questions at the ceiling: “What about my education? What about my family? What about money to support ourselves? What about the fact that we really didn’t know each other? Where would we go? Where would we live? … and on and on. The strange thing is that with every question the answer was simple, “It will all work out. Have faith, I will provide.” And I felt the answers inside my mind and heart. And so, I married him.

Let’s get back to my therapy session.

After I related the story and answered some questions about logistics, my therapist asked me a question, “Given your new perspectives about religion and God what do you think happened that day? Do you still believe God told you to marry John?”

I shook my head. I didn’t believe that anymore, but I had no explanation. So I asked my therapist this question, “Do you think your brain can be conditioned to create a specific physical response to mental and external stimuli?”

“I know it can.”

With his answer I felt something break inside me, “So it’s possible that my brain could have created the burning in my heart, the electric overwhelming emotion, and this physical belief that God had told me to marry John?”

He again confirmed the possibility. We talked about the conditioning I had received throughout my life. I had been taught what the “Holy Ghost” was supposed to feel like since I was three years old. I was told hundreds of times by everyone in my life what the answers to prayers “felt” like.

And, he gave his professional opinion on the potential truth. His opinion: I wanted rescuing--an out to get me away from my angry father and my shame.

I asked him, supremely disgusted with my past self, if what he was saying was that I created a God generated answer to a problem I was having because I couldn’t face the pedestrian truth?

He didn’t think so, but rather that I did what I had been trained to do, solve problems with prayer and faith and God. And that those things were deeply tied to the cultural way I had been taught to solve all my problems.

Sadly, his words didn’t make me feel better. In fact, they made me feel incredibly worse.

I felt tricked, betrayed by both the church and NOW my OWN brain.