#foster care system tw

[neechees]

A Native woman committed suicide after her children were taken away by rcmp because she asked for refuge from her abusive relationship. Instead of helping a Native woman flee abuse with her children, they took her babies away.

Note that the video says that Manitoba has some of the highest child apprehensions by child welfare in Canads, 90% of whom are Indigenous, and until 2 years ago they got paid by the amount of apprehensions they do.

[cookie-waffle]

cps literally kills children. I’m not even joking. The amount of times divorced parents have called cps, begging for them to rescue their child from the other parent, only to be ignored until the child is dead is staggering.

CPS workers who fail on cases like this need to start being charged with involuntary manslaughter and failure to protect a child. CPS and the foster care system needs to be heavily cracked down on for how lazy and incompetent they are. Foster parents should be having VERY frequent welfare checks to make sure they are not abusing their kids or allowing their kids to abuse their housemates. There needs to be more empathy training. There needs to be more social workers so that they aren’t so thinly spread out. There needs to be a crack down on the racism and classism that CPS frequently displays by leaving rich abused kids for dead and kidnapping poor loved kids from their families who just needed financial help.

My little brother’s abusers were allowed by his foster home to frequently visit, beat him, and give him drugs before 18. They also allowed the other kids in the home to bully him and steal his toys and video games. Now he is a monster who uses extreme violence to terrorize people into giving him what he wants. My first crush had to watch from their window as CPS drove away and left them in a crack house with their absolutely disgustingly evil parents. Now they are still haunted by the sight of those CPS workers leaving to this day. And I cannot express in words how fucking SICK I am of seeing news story after news story about children dying due to CPS ignoring their cries for help.

And you know what pisses me off the most? No politician cares about this. This is a real, actual international health crisis, and not one person in power fucking gives enough of a shit to say anything about it. Not even the “good” politicians seem to pay any mind to how bad CPS is at protecting humanity’s most precious asset. They don’t seem to care about future generations being traumatized. They don’t seem to care about how these kids will be able to heal. They don’t seem to care no matter how many times children are failed by the system.

[eldritch-queern-magicat]

Actually, no, I haven't really changed at all since middle school. I'm still the same deeply creative weirdo with ever-growing eclectic interests. A happily blooming nerd. If I learned about something in school, I wanted to explore it at home, on my own. That's really how the electronics disaster happened. I'm actually incredibly grateful Mom and Dad monitored my Internet use. I am way too curious sometimes. And I have to see shit for myself extremely often.

I wasn't let back out properly as a specific part until sometime in the sixth grade. It was partially the cats, but also realizing Nanny probably wouldn't be around much longer. So when she did die, I was more relieved than anything else. I used to feel bad that I hadn't cried for her.

But she was stifling me and trying to tell me what to be. She didn't like me being curious about makeup? I was low-key kinda thrilled when I got makeup for Christmas in my senior year of high school. I like color. A lot. I used to constantly change my favorite color. Now I just say I love the entire rainbow.

And I had to hide that I absolutely loved Pokémon. I think she thought it was glorifying violence, but it's more like competitive high-contact sports. Either that, or it was the racism. Frankly, probably both. It's probably the one thing she might have been worse than foster care about. But honestly, watching all the stuff that had to do with entirely different cultures was so good for me. It still exposed me to to new ideas and lessons when I actually needed it. Among them, I started passively absorbing any little bit when Taoism or Buddhism were significant themes. Paired with Bible study on Saturday morning, I guess I managed better than I thought.

She was surprisingly ok with when I was really into western fantasy like Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I think she was also ok with Power Rangers and ThunderCats (the original). At least she validated my love of learning new things and legit gave me old text books (that I don't know where she even got) to look at science subjects at home.

I think that really started in the seventh grade when I got so obsessed with astronomy and in particular, black holes. It just amazed me how unfathomably massive the universe is. How far it goes, how long even light takes to travel through it. I couldn't help but find the divine in the actual, physical cosmos. And it was there with every part of it. I would think, ‘How can everything in this physical reality be bad if God had said it was good in the beginning? Surely we haven't corrupted everything. Cats and dogs know about compassion, in a sense. That's good and beautiful.’

It wasn't hard at all to be better than foster care, but she actually was. She did encourage me to ask questions if I was confused. She clarified a lot of the literalist theology so I could start to understand it. I think I asked to study the bible with her, with that very hope. According to Dad, she could keep up with devout Catholics. I had two different children's bibles at her trailer, plus she bought me my own standard bible when I was ten, for my birthday. She and Mom took me to the book store at the mall, and had them print my casual first name with my last name at the bottom right corner of the front in silver letters.

Fun fact, someone actually jokingly asked if I'd grown up Catholic because of my apparently deep knowledge of Christianity. That was during the summer last year. The irony of my current proximity to the nearest Catholic church is not lost on me.

What fucked me back up was how I was treated during high school a lot by peers and family, and largely I just got angrier more than anything else. I was trying my best to do better when it all started going downhill fast again. But apparently I was still not good enough. My cousins suddenly became spoiled brats because of my needs frequently not being met entirely, but they seemed so much better adjusted. They didn't understand, and I didn't know how to break my silence. So I started lashing out because i really didn't have the social skills I needed. So yeah, I was definitely an asshole at times. The bullshit from foster care got a refresh, and I was forced to submit to their training again.

Never had any serious issues with Grandma, though in typical moody teenager fashion, I was sometimes a brat.

There's a reason I didn't really come out of my shell again until my junior year of high school. I decided to try to be more brave the year before, since I knew I'd graduate in Ohio. I got better at my art and creative writing, and it seemed to give me a way to connect with others. I decided to go for the culinary class at the career center because hey--good food--and the only thing that was in question was my literal birth date and legal age restrictions with the student restaurant. I got in. Mom and Dad made absolutely sure it was paid for. So I decided to do another nuts thing and go try out for the spring musical. I met one of my closest friends that way. Truly a charismatic character (gonna tag you, @themerrymutants I miss you). I felt accepted and encouraged, like family is supposed to make you feel.

Memories are really just flooding in now, it's a just lot to process. Maybe it's because while answering the person on anon, I opened up a lot of my own psychological cupboards. I never really said a lot of that at once, let alone even explained my logic behind it all. It put a lot of things into perspective for me.

And I just can't help but think, oh, shit, I actually am competent. But I was constantly second-guessing myself because so many of the people around me were hellbent on judging everything I did. Now I understand that in those cases, they most likely feared how authentic I am. Some people, more or less depending on where I was at any given time, thought I was pretty cool because I was so authentic.

I stopped fronting almost entirely when Mom died. I still hadn't recovered at all from literally anything, and didn't know how to handle that. It took cycling through different roles to find something productive for me. I shattered, and ended up pushing most of my remaining idealism into the then-evolving Lilitu.

But I was always at my best when I was true to myself. There were still plenty of people who loved me for who I really was. And that was just enough to keep going. That is precisely what fueled my spite against others who didn't like me. And Mom sure as fuck never quit going.

-Era 🍎😺

[xt0t4llys4n300x]

I'm grateful that my guardian left behind money for food, but where is this normally? Why doesn't she buy food for us normally? Why does she have to be gone for days on end before she actually cares enough for us to eat. Why does she have to be gone for me to be allowed in the kitchen. She's getting better at caring for my little sister, but with that comes the consequence of being pushed to the side even more.

She doesn't communicate with me normally, but I feel a lot more free with her not being here. I still feel alone, but at least she's not in the house.

I've never felt safe I any of the houses I've lived in. It's draining. It's exhausting. I don't understand how people can be so mean to kids they're supposed to be taking care of. I don't know what I did to deserve the hate of my caregivers. Memories are cruel, and I wish they would stop coming back.

[teardropsonsmyguitar]

.

[ocean-not-found]

Me: freshly out of hospital "i dont think i can cope going back to school, my brain still isn't right" (spacing out, hallucinating, derealisation)

Me: *asks new therapist what to do*

Therapist: "i dont know 🤷 "

---

Me: *starts not feeling real at school* *has no way to cope*

My TA: "have a cup of tea ❤️"

---

It helped for a while. But then i got bad again.

I've had 5 "therapy" sessions (refused to do actual therapy/help me until i have a care placement) since my 6 weeks in a (general childrens) hospital. Gotten no better.

---

Me: *starts getting really angry when at school* "i cant come in school anymore it's too much. This is all too much."

My TA: "whats wrong?"

Me: "im having to take care of myself, a house, and my dog! and i fucking can't do this all anymore" *fully fucking breaks down*. "It's been four months i wish social services sorted themselves out for once! I miss mum."

Me: dosen't go into school for a week.

Me: misses more and more school

Me: cant fucking get out of bed

Social services, camhs, school: "oh but why didn't you tell us you was this bad?"

Me: .

[hummingbirdeggs]

Bags

As a child I would often hear stories

Of children, just like me but not

Kids who had to put their stuff in bags,

Packing it away for the next home, next family.

I never heard these stories in school, not at first

I heard them at the dinner table, when my stomach aches from the food that made me sick and I would eat anymore

I heard the stories from my grandmother, my mother

As I sat at a table staring at food that turned my stomach.

“Aren’t we kind?” they had crooned, sticky sweet and lying

And I had nodded, a child trusting the adults that guided them

Not wanting to be another kid who packed their things away into bags for the next family

Not wanting to be left behind.

Eventually, things changed.

I never did become like those kids.

I was left behind, with shattered pieces of a broken home

Standing in the rubble, looking around

I found there was nothing I wanted to keep

Nothing worth keeping, not with the honey sweet poison clinging to it.

So I knelt in the rubble

Picked out my best clothes and packed an overnight bag

Carefully tucked away my favorite book and stuffed animal

And left the rest, a house full of poison and honeyed lies.

Maybe one day I will be able to exist outside that rubble

No longer needing the tired resignation that if anything were to happen I could vanish

A shadow, that was hardly even there.

Until then, I think, I am happy here.

With my book and my bag and my stuffed animal, safe in the knowledge nothing was holding me back.

[anaalnathrakhs]

truly nothing spells out “we live in a hell world” better than the fact we could be having a reasonable discussion about what death means to humans and the logical end of bodily autonomy and all that important stuff, but instead our society and medical spheres are so rotten from the inside out that any advancement in that field is used to coerce disabled people and other marginalized and vulnerable populations into letting themselves be killed off because we don’t feel like offering proper healthcare or proper infrastructure to offer every living person the basic necessities of life

[amyyycatherine]

Childhood

Sorry it took me so long to come back, I was not sure how I wanted to do this, sometimes it takes me a while to process. Growing up as a child under 10 years old, I was so angry with the world. So angry indeed. I just could not understand what I could have done that was so wrong at 6 months old to warrant not being wanted by my biological mother and father. I did not know anything about them, not their names, not their faces, nor the sound of their voices.

I was in a group home at this time that was located on Hawthorne St. and it had boys and girls in it. All the bedrooms were upstairs with the girls on one side and the boys on the other side and there were 4 kids per room with 2 sets of bunk beds. We had one dresser for each set of 4 kids, but the dressers were close to empty, most of us did not have very many clothes anyways. I had my favorite pair of blue jeans; they had a heart patch on the back pocket and a watermelon patch on the front right thigh. I had been given these jeans by one of my teachers who knew I was in foster care, and this was right before I got moved to the new group home. Remember the favorite jeans, they are important later.

Well, this group home was terrible. We were not allowed to go to school, we were taught in a hot garage that had a foosball table in the middle of the garage. There was a long couch that most of us would squeeze onto, and class literally consisted of talking about gangs and crimes in society. We did not have schoolbooks; we did not have books to read but we did have old magazines with ripped and missing pages. This did not do us any favors, but we will get into that later too. I remember for lunch we were given "ham sandwiches" but it was actually pink mush between bread, and it was so gross, but you ate it because if you didn't eat lunch then you got no dinner.

There was a strict rule that the boys were not allowed to enter the girls' rooms and vice versa, for obvious reasons. At night when the adults were sleeping, all the kids, boys and girls, would all meet at the end of the hallway to go out on the roof. There was a big window that was easy to open, and it led to a big roof landing that we would all sit on. We would all tell stories and stare at the moon. We would talk about who we imagined our parents were, or the kids that knew their parents would tell us about them and they would tell us what it was like having a real family, those of us without family would just sit quietly. I think we were all imagining what that would feel like, but we did dare sound that vulnerable, it was much easier to act like you didn't care.

I will go ahead and end this post here, but I will post more.

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: what kind of trauma you could have experienced in childhood

tw: mentions of childhood trauma triggers

this orb is in the child zone of the chart. while the first orb is your public persona / the mask you wear in public due to expectations others have of you starting from a young age, this third orb (the sum of the mask and the true self) tells the story of what you experienced as a kid to make you who you are. this is the doorway between what others think you are like because of how you come off and who you truly are.

your lack of a number correlated with an experience listed below does not mean to minimize your experience with the topics (e.g., abuse, familial alcoholism, neglect, etc.) these are simply my observations (also observations are not destined to be true, they are simply possibilities / increased odds).

6 - lovers

covert incest: the reliance a parent has on their child for emotional needs that an adult relationship would provide (this is the mental and emotional aspects of an adult relationship NOT the physical)

7 - chariot

constant moving around which created a level of detachment in the world around you

9 - hermit

could have been in a foster care system which made you feel alone and unwanted

constantly distance from parents - maybe parents were constantly away on business or were otherwise occupied so you were alone and felt neglected by them

11 - justice

a messy divorce OR finding yourself in the midst of legal battles

troubled youth - perhaps experience with law enforcement / juvenile justice systems

13 - death

loss or near loss be it of a family member or yourself

15 - devil

dealing with a toxic household

substance abuse issues in direct family that effects you

controlling parents

physical or mental abuse

16 - tower

car accident, house fire, medical emergency, etc that forever changed your life

17 - star

having an illness that effects your ability to just be a kid

18 - moon

constant lies and manipulation experienced by you from your parental figure(s)

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic." button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next. if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

click here for the masterlist

click here for more web of wyrd related posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[happy74827]

A Brother’s Promise

[Mike Ross & Teen!Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite not being blood-related, the Ross’ are nothing but family.

WC: 2177

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff, Platonic {TW — Child Abuse, Foster Homes, Bad Parenting, Mentions of Drugs, Runaway}.

I have no idea what sparked this but now I can’t unwrite it, so you’re all stuck with it.

『••✎••』

Mike was always one who cared about those around him, so it didn't come as a surprise when you found yourself sitting inside his law firm, awaiting the man you heard so little about, Harvey Specter.

You were young, a small teenager at that. Fresh out of the foster care system with nothing but the clothes on your back and the suitcase that contained the rest of your meager possessions. You had been shuffled from home to home, never settling in for longer than a few years, before the parents grew tired of you or couldn't deal with you anymore and shipped you off.

You were about ten when you met the Ross family. Edith Ross was walking home with groceries in hand, her arms laden down with bags that threatened to spill out over her feet as she tried to make it the short distance from the bus stop to her home. That’s when she found you in the rain, curled up into a ball next to a street light. Your dirty clothes clung to your frail frame as you shivered violently, tears streaming down your face.

Mrs. Ross had taken one look at you and dropped the bags. She quickly knelt down, placing her hands on your shoulders, trying to get you to look at her. She didn’t hesitate to take off her sweater, wrapping it around you and ushering you along with her.

You had tried to tell her you couldn't go with her, but she was already pulling you along onto the bus.

The minute you were inside the Ross household, she had sat you down in the bathroom.

"Let's get you into a nice warm bath. Does that sound good, Sweetheart?" You just stared at her, confused.

"Bath?" You whispered, looking away.

"Yes, Sweetie. A bath. Let's get you clean."

That night was the best night you’ve had in your whole life. You got a warm meal, a warm bed, and a warm bath. You were given some of Mike's old clothes and tucked into the bed.

Mike’s bed, of course. He rarely visited his grandmother’s house now that he had become roommates with that Trevor, but the night you came, he was visiting.

He had come into the room, seeing you lying on his bed, and immediately thought his Gram had lost her mind.

"Gram!" He called out, "Who… What?"

Edith chuckled, coming into the room. "Michael, I want you to meet our new guest.” She smiled at you before turning her attention back to Mike. “She was out in the cold, so I took her in.”

Mike was completely dumbfounded. He stood there, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Thinking back on it, the expression was quite funny.

“You kidnapped her?!” Mike yelled, incredulous.

"I did no such thing!" She huffed. "She was sitting on the sidewalk, soaked and freezing."

“She’s not a cat, Gram. You can't just pick up stray kids like they're lost kittens."

"Well, someone needs to do something!" Edith was becoming frustrated. "Look at her, Michael."

She pulled him towards you, and he got a good look at you. You were staring back, unsure of what was going on.

"I... I..."

"You'll see, Michael. She'll fit right in. She needs a place to stay, and we have the room."

Mike had no response. Instead, he had turned to look at you. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish; no words were coming out.

Mike ended up taking you to the police station in the morning. That night, he was too tired and worn out to deal with the situation, so he, in fact, did slept on the couch.

The connection between you two was immediate, and even after everything was sorted and you were back with your father, you found yourself still clinging to the Ross family. You memorized everything you could about Mike and Edith and found yourself missing them terribly.

Your father, while not the best parent, did his best to provide for you for that little while.

When he started using again, things took a turn for the worse. The house was in disarray. It was covered in filth, with empty takeout containers and dirty dishes, along with other junk, covering the once pristine counters. Your father was constantly yelling and screaming at the television and the walls. There was never a moment of peace, and when there was, he was passed out drunk.

It wasn't the first time you had witnessed him high, but it was the first time that he made you sick to your stomach. You often left the house for an escape, and it caused you to run into the Ross family again.

Mike was a temporary mailman, if you could call it that, and was dropping off a package when he saw you walking along the street.

He was deciding whether to go talk to you or just go on with his job, but when a neighbor started eyeing you weirdly, he decided to walk you home.

After that, Mike became your official unofficial brother and Edith a mother figure. The visits to the Ross household were constant, though you never visited Mike’s apartment strictly because of how weirded out you were with the stories of Trevor. Plus, there were no cookies over there. Edith always had fresh cookies at her house, and the two of you would sit and talk about your week.

You were twelve when your father passed. That was when the visits to the Ross household stopped being frequent, and the trips to the foster homes began.

You still kept in contact, of course. You had their numbers memorized, and if you ever had a problem, whether it was a simple math problem or a bigger issue, Mike was always there on the other line.

That was why you went to him last night, in a sheer panic, running from your current home with a cut lip and black eye.

Edith was long gone now, having passed away in her sleep. So, it took you a while to discover the new home of the “Ross” family — which only consisted of Mike now.

It was late, probably around midnight, but you didn’t care. The second you found the address, you snuck out of your room and made your way there, walking the whole way.

You were hesitant when you made your way into the apartment building, only to find a woman answering the door. She eyed you suspiciously, looking up and down and asking what a kid like you was doing out so late.

Your hoodie was covering your face, so you quickly pulled it down and smiled.

She gave you the opposite as complete horror overtook her face. “Oh my god.” She rushed out.

The next thing you know, you're inside an apartment, a cup of hot cocoa in your hands and a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

She kept calling and calling the entire time, clearly being out of her element to deal with this.

"He's not answering." She sighed.

"Maybe he's working. He's a lawyer." You offered.

She nodded, not bothering to question how you knew that. She tried one more time, this time leaving a message.

You found out the woman’s name was Rachel, the very same Rachel that Mike talked about on occasion. She was nice enough, you guessed, though a bit uptight. She reminded you a lot of Edith, and it was almost painful to look at her.

As for Mike, you didn’t see him. You fell asleep on the couch before he arrived home and only woke up when you heard him calling for Rachel.

He was not pleased to see you; that much was certain. He was shocked, and the sight of your face made him angry.

You had expected this reaction, which is why you didn’t mention the circumstances. Instead, you just told him you had run away from your latest home. You seemed to do that a lot, now that you think about it.

He had sent Rachel away and asked you to tell him everything.

And you did. He was the only one you could trust, and he had listened to every word, anger, and sadness evident on his face.

It wasn’t until later that Harvey Specter was introduced. You heard about him once. Mike was talking about some big case, and he had mentioned the then-senior partner by name, but other than that, you had no idea who the man was.

Harvey had walked in, taking one look at Mike and then the stranger sitting across from him, and was not pleased.

"What the hell is going on here, Mike?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Harvey." He sighed. "But it's not good."

"Who is she?"

You looked over at him, an awkward smile on your face. You would’ve given him a wave as well, but Mike was gripping your hand as if his life depended on it.

"My sister."

Harvey was quiet for a moment, looking over the two of you. You had to admit, the two of you didn’t look alike, not at all. But the two of you did share one common trait.

"Not really,” you whispered. "I mean, we're not related. Not by blood, anyway. I don't even know his middle name."

"James,” Mike replied, smiling at you.

"Really? Wow. I totally thought it was John."

"Okay," Harvey cut in, not enjoying being out of the loop. "Are we here to talk about the name James, or are we here to figure out why there's a kid here? A kid who, by the way, looks like she just went a few rounds head to head with Rocky.”

"You should see the other guy." You joked, though it was met with two unimpressed glares. "Sorry."

"She's my sister. We're not related, but she's family. This is the first time I've seen her in years."

Harvey let out a sigh. "So, she's a runaway. Great, Mike. This is just great. We need to contact CPS and let them know she's here."

"No!" Mike was on his feet in an instant. “Look at her face, Harv. I'm not going to turn her over. I know exactly where she's going. They'll send her back, and I'm not letting that happen. Not again."

"She’s a runaway, Mike. She stays here, and it's the same thing as kidnapping. As much as I hate the system, it's there for a reason. They’ll relocate her, and she'll be fine."

"You don't know that."

"She's a teenager, Mike. She'll survive. We did."

You were staring down at your shoes the whole time, not knowing what to say or do. Your face hurt, and you were still shaken from the events that happened just hours before, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

"Look at me," Mike turned to you, kneeling down to your level. "You're not going back, okay? I promise."

"Mike-"

"Harvey, she's staying."

"You can't just decide that, Mike. It's the law. I know you don’t care much for that, given your track record, but-"

"She's staying," he repeated more forcefully. "If I have to sign a thousand papers, then so be it. But I'm not letting her go again.”

Harvey watched the scene unfold. He had a lot to say, a lot to do, but instead, he found himself backing down.

"Okay, Mike," Harvey said softly. He glanced at you for a moment, watching your eyes flicker from his own to Mike before looking back down.

He didn't have any family other than his brother and maybe his mother. It was hard for him to understand the relationship between Mike and you, but he couldn't deny the feeling that settled in his stomach at the sight of your broken, terrified eyes.

Mike was a kind-hearted person, and while Harvey never believed in the whole 'family means everything' crap, seeing you there, scared and alone, made him rethink everything.

You needed a home, a safe one, and for whatever reason, Mike was hellbent on giving that to you. Harvey didn't have to like it, but he would stand by his decision.

"I'll get Donna to make some calls. CPS is still getting called, no matter what, but I'll do what I can."

Mike smiled at his friend and stood back up. "Thanks, Harv."

"Yeah, yeah."

He had left not soon after, leaving you and Mike alone. And as it later turns out, a couple of months later, you found yourself right back to where you started.

You were back at the Ross household, sleeping in Mike's bed (though it was technically yours now) and sitting at the dining room table with him, eating Edith's famous cookies.

Only this time, there was no Edith. There was a Rachel, a Harvey, and even a Donna.

But the biggest difference of all was that you didn’t have to sneak around anymore. You could openly call the Rosses, your family without fear.

And if that wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world, then you didn't know what was.

[brokenpieces-72]

Dark Reader Anyone? Haven't seen any of that anywhere. Like it's always dark 141 this or that but never DARK READER.

I disappear to the abyss now

Oh we going into the darkness now… excellent. To be honest didn’t know how this would go. Now it’s sort of an alternate timeline to the current hybrid story line. For some context you’re the mother in this one.

TW: Dark reader, Manipulation, obsessive parent, kind of yandere, mentions of a foster system, mentions of child neglect, let me know if I’ve missed any.

A young girl with antlers and rabbit ears, it’s hard to over look that description. You’d finally get your daughter back but she was working for mercenaries. All you had to do was enlist. You had your own methods of persuasion, it was a matter of using them. Each proved a challenge, but once you showed an interest in Hunter beyond making the other hybrids jealous it was easy enough.

Rodolfo is human, and while his mutts were protective of their vessel it was easy enough J to garner favour with them. Working with him got you closer to Alejandro too, but of course you couldn’t let them know that. Rodolfo was the only one you were focused on around him. If he brought up Alejandro on his own then you would talk about him, learning more about weaknesses. Rodolfo is a caring person, you understand that.

Alejandro, such a good kitty. He taught you to fight and you didn’t back down from him. A gentleman, maybe but you had him in your clutches with a smile. The only thing that could kill Alejandro was Alejandro, but you don’t need him to die. You just needed him to know your troubles. With a few comments and subtle hints you got him to build sympathy for you, brushing off initial inquiries. Then an invitation for a private conversation, concerned words, and his worry for your little one is matched to yours, but of course you love your baby more.

Johnny was a sweet puppy and showed himself to be friendly enough. He was so easy to play with, oh if you could keep him all to yourself you would. And when he shifted to full size, trying to impress you, it was adorable. He was on an easy leash in no time.

Kyle was stuck in his shell only poking his head out to help everyone else. Some eggs needed to be cracked. A visit with him and confessing you were a mother who lost your baby girl to hunters all because she was different was so easy. He offered to look out for anyone by your daughter’s description, wanting to help you. Such a pretty bird he was, willing to watch over you, and retrieve your baby bunny for you.

Simon, what could you say about Simon. He was a hard, cold man. There was a darkness surrounding him constantly. A hurt, one that you would try to remedy but a soft touch made him pull away almost immediately. He took the longest to gain trust from. Showing an understanding of boundaries was perfect, as he slowly opened them to you. Learning more about his past you show sympathy, despite you knowing he was an absolute monster. No way in hell would you want him near your precious child. Clearly he was in control now, but you needed to be careful. One wrong move in front of him meant losing everything you were working on.

Price was the key though, one that took pleasure in the pleasure of his men. If his men felt safe and happy, he was content. Joining his hoard wasn’t easy. Now you may as well be the shining jewel, proving yourself to be invaluable. You understood medical, were a great shot, and pushed yourself. Your relationship with each of them was strong, but something did bother him. Your past was redacted in some areas, so he called you to his office one day. Seeing the file your heart skipped a beat, fearing what he may have found.

“You have a daughter?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’m sorry sir.” You said.

“She was taken from you.” He continued. “Hunters found her and she was removed from your home. They assumed neglect. What is your side?”

You looked up at him finding concerned eyes. Eyes that wanted to help you. The face of a man who was empathetic.

…perfect.

“I had to raise her as a single parent. Sometimes life was difficult because she couldn’t always go out with her friends. I should have noticed it sooner but she became very sick, and when I was out one night she wandered outside. With her antlers and ears and her clothes being torn and dirty…” you cleared your throat, biting back your tears. “Couldn’t give her a good life so they took her away from me.”

You didn’t make eye contact with the captain, feeling ashamed. You know you did your best, you tried so hard to make her happy, but everyone kept trying to take her from you. She worked hard for you too, hunting and finding food for herself. It wasn’t good enough though. Price was still quiet, while you played with your hands.

“We’ve found her.” He said. You looked up at him, his face showing he cared. There was a hint of a smile, pleased to see your hopeful gaze. Behind it, there was a catch. Something that would make it difficult to see your sweet girl again. “Your daughter was put in a program intended to help rehabilitate hybrids, much like a foster care program. They’re assigned a mentor of sorts to keep them safe, teach them about their abnormalities, help them with basic education, etc. and your daughter was recently assigned to a position.”

“How do you mean?” You asked, voice shaking. They were helping you, they would get your daughter back.

“Hybrids can be assigned to companies and work positions where their abilities can be beneficial. Sergeant Garrick had been looking into some of the organizations and learned about your daughter’s placement. Which brings me to another question.” The captain said. You tensed a little, knowing what he would ask about.

“Your daughter is labelled in her file as a jackalope hybrid but with a shifter form. A Wendigo.” Price went on. Your expression told him everything you wanted. That you had no idea, no one had told you, information about your baby girl had been kept limited.

“No no… she’s…” you trailed off. The captain sighed, letting out some wisps of smoke. You were a poor mother who had her child ripped from her with little explanation. Now you’ve learned your daughter this whole time had been a monstrous man eater. It’s hard not to laugh at how easily Price was falling for it.

“I can imagine it’s rather difficult to hear this.” Price said. “She was placed in KorTac, a group of mercenaries. They have other hybrids there, and her mentor is still present ensuring her diet is kept regulated so the Wendigo does not endanger anyone.”

“Why would they put her there?!” You blurted. A moment of weakness in your facade hearing your precious daughter had been placed in such a dangerous environment. Price’s tail flicked once, a little startled by your outburst. To be expected though he figured. You cleared your throat, apologizing for your behaviour.

“We believe it’s related to her Wendigo side. She’s okay there, and missions are kept simple for her at the moment along with proper training.” Price continued. You nodded, trying to show some understanding. There was a paise before you asked the very question any caring mother would ask.

“Would it be possible to see her?” You asked.

“No.” Price said, empathetic. You nod as if you could understand why.

“We intend to get her back for you.” Price said. When you looked back up, you see a smug look on the captain face. You give him a hopeful smile, trying to hide your desire to laugh at him. He was so willing to go head first into danger with the rest of the team. Price stood up and circled around his desk looking down at you, arms crossed.

“I’m not about to let one of my best be denied her rights. That little girl deserves her mama.” Price said. You stood ready to go as soon as he gave the order. For now you’re given his gentle hands on your shoulders, and a gaze from the most pleased dragon, with a hint of glass.

“It will take some time, but we will get her back, kicking and screaming if we have to.” Price assured you. You’re dismissed and you returned to your room, tears running down your face. The other men offer some smiles to you, and you return them until you get to your room and shut the door.

Finally, you’d have your baby back… and you had a task force of monsters in the palm of your hands ready to kill anyone standing in your way.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends

[coolprettyleo]

Don't Forget, Don't Forget About Me - Gabe Perreault ☆

wc: 1.9k

tw: angst. alcohol. kissing? cussing. partying. almost sa. slut shaming. weird frat guy.

part 2 of superman !!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

gabe hadn’t called. he hadn’t texted. it was now sunday night; the night before he was supposed to land back in boston and lottie wondered if he had even thought of her.

her little overthinking insecure mind couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t go off and save some other girl. a girl who desperately needed saving just like the naive little freshmen lottie was a couple of months prior.

*flashback*

“c’mon!! we’re in college now, you have to actually leave your dorm if you want to make friends char” her best friend from home told her while they were face timing.

i mean its not that lottie liked to stay home. she kinda felt burnt out. her whole life she didn’t have strict authority figures who told her she couldn’t go out. so by the time she was eighteen years old in a new city she didn’t feel the hunger of freeness, every other eighteen year old was feeling.

she grew up with her grandmother in california who had already done her part in raising her children. she was raising lottie out of the kindness of her heart. or mainly due to the fact lottie would be in the foster care system since both her parents were in jail.

“i dont know what if something goes wrong” she says, beginning to look like she can be convinced seeing how cute dylan looks.

it might be fun to dress up and take cute pics…

“it’s college! you finally have the opportunity to be somewhere where no one knows you. you can talk freaking australian and stupid bitches would believe you. your just like every other bitch tonight!”

lottie couldn’t help but smile at her friends drunkness desperately regretting the fact she didn’t go to umich with the blonde friend.

“honestly thats so real and tru. when the hell did u start giving such good advice”

“shutup and let me help you pick a fit” dylan excitedly squeals.

—

lottie walked into a frat party alongside her roommate and some girls they had just met. the music was typical frat music but she was honestly feeling it.

maybe because she missed going out or maybe because her and her friends had just pregamed a bottle of titos before leaving the dorm.

the thing about lottie is that she doesn’t usually drink so when she does, she drinks to have a good time.

“oh my gosh!! charlotte pls let’s go dance. plsss” my roommate Mary slurred whining.

lottie was obviously not going to turn that invitation down, so off she went. unbeknownst to her she had already caught the attention of several guys with the worse intentions possible.

all lottie can remember of that part of the night is that she was dancing with mary having the time of her life and then the next thing she knew, mary was making out with some guy.

okay mary!! slay!

she didn’t want to awkwardly third wheel that, so she quickly made her way out the dance floor. into the kitchen where there were several tall guys standing around with red cups.

“hey charlotte right? we have english together” a shorter boy walked up to her. lottie didn't think he was with the taller boys.

ive never seen this man in my life.

but of course she was naive. and in her little naive mind she didn’t want to make this random guy feel bad so she went along with it. as if they were old friends. they weren’t.

“oh yeah! hi!” she told the black haired boy standing way too close for her comfort.

unbeknownst to lottie he didn’t actually have a class with her and he was just another dumb freshman hoping to get into a frat, trying to prove he was somebody to a bunch of nobodies. in all the wrong ways too. he had just been ordered to slip something into her drink.

why he chose lottie, she would never know.

“here let me get you some water, you don’t look too well”

“thanks!! thats so nice! I was just dancing with my roommate but I don’t know where she went, I think she went off with some guy which is totally fine! im not judging or anything, like good for her” lottie drunkly rambled. one thing about lottie is that she becomes a yapper with just one sip of alcohol.

“ya it can get pretty tiring out there” he said looking around and at her nervously handing her some ‘water’. or so she thought.

as lottie was about to pour the liquid down her throat a tall dark haired boy came and slapped the cup out of her hand. spilling it all over the floor and on her top.

what the hell man

“im so sorry but don’t drink that. here” he said handing her a bottled water desperately searching for a towel to give her to wipe off whatever the hell that liquid was which smelled like the farthest thing from water.

“cmon man i was already talking to her and it was just water” the frat boy said grabbing lottie harshly.

“get the fuck out of here ass hat. how stupid can you be”

"that wasn't water!"

the taller boy and i yelled at the same time while the frat boy shoved him.

“don’t fucking touch me or her” he said pushing him back. harder.

"she's pretty easy to touch man, I mean look at her" the frat guy drunkly said.

the tall dark haired boys friends quickly came and got between them before something bigger started.

“cmon gabe it’s not worth it” a freckled boy said to him while shooting a dangerous glare to the stupid frat guy.

lottie just stood off leaned against the counter trying to figure out who’s the hell are these people? and what the hell was going on? and did that asshole just slut shame her? what the hell did he even mean by that? .

“let’s go find your friends” he said taking my arm much gentler and guiding me through the party. trying to see if I recognized anyone.

“thank you for that, honestly. i didn’t think anyone could ever be capable of doing something like that” I told the boy who had gentler eyes now as we stepped outside. as lottie began to sober up, it hit her what could of happened if this mysterious boy never came to save the day.

im so dumb.

lottie couldnt help but think.

“well now you know for next time right” he said with a light smile as he texted on his phone.

whose he texting?

“who we texting!” lottie said jokingly. trying to lighten up the mood.

“im trying to call us an uber, your a freshman right?” he said with a chuckle, feeling a flip in his stomach as he seen her smile.

thats pretty.

“yeah, are you?”

“yeah, my names gabe by the way” he said realizing he never got her name or even told her his.

“charlotte. but i go by lottie” she said smiling at him, noticing gabe was honestly cute.

“the uber is fifteen minutes away” he said looking down at her, into her big brown eyes.

“thank you. really” she said starring into each others eyes, as if they’ve spent all eighteen years of their lives searching for one another.

feeling her heart beat a million times an hour; something lottie has never felt before. so she couldn’t figure out what it meant. heart attack? maybe?

lord save me.

*flashback over*

lottie felt like an idiot. she knew gabe was back from his trip seeing as his location was in his dorm. he usually would have asked her to go over by now or he would of came here, but seeing as he probably believed lottie didn't love him; he was going to be stubborn and not answer her.

screw it I cant take it anymore

lottie rolled her ass out of bed and put on her uggs as she marched down the hill to his dorm with a mission on her mind.

she had spent the weekend wallowing in self pity and she couldn't take it anymore. this had been the longest they had gone without speaking to one another since they got together and lottie realized she did not like it. not one bit.

—

"gabe just call her back, if she's calling you so much then she obviously does care about you" will snapped finally tired of seeing his roommate in such a terrible mood; all weekend.

"thats the problem! i want her to love me not just care for me. you guys know lottie; she cares for the homeless man down the street that she's never even met before!" gabe gestures with his arms.

"dont be complicated gabe" ryan chimes in, knowing all too well how their friend and teammate is.

as gabe opens his mouth to talk further he is cut off by a loud knock on the door.

ryan quickly trying to escape gabes self pity party practically runs to open the door while will and gabe stay sitting back on the couch.

"lottie! come in!" ryan says loudly looking at will with eyes that speak 'lets get outta here'. will practically ran out with ryan. not wanting to deal with depressed gabe any longer, not before waving at lottie on his way out though.

gabe rolled his eyes at their antics before getting up and walking to his room as lottie began to shut the front door.

"gabe wait! please hear me out"

"there's nothing to hear out lottie. its okay to not love someone back, you dont have to explain anything" he said looking anywhere and everywhere but her.

lottie took a good look at him seeing as he looked like his heart was breaking into a million pieces; lottie wanting so desperatly to put it back together one by one, however long it took. she loved him.

"you cant honestly believe that I dont love you gabe" lottie said softly, walking closer to him.

"look at me gabe" she whispered, while softly turning his head down to look at her. his deep green eyes has her wanting to scream from the rooftops.

"I love you" she said as she shook with nothing but raw emotion and pure love.

gabe couldn't help but scoop her up into his arms and kiss his girl like there was no tomorrow. smiling into the kiss because he hated what he had felt all weekend long.

lottie pulled away from the kiss as she wasn't finished. she planned the speech the whole way here, she wanted to tell him. because when you know you know and she knew.

"I love you gabriel perreault. and im sorry for not telling you sooner. i just assumed you knew and that was wrong of me and so sorry. since the very first day I've loved you. since you saved me from my own stupidity, I loved you. since you've put up through every bad habit and fit I've had, I've loved you-"

"lottie, i know. you dont have to say it" gabe said cutting her off knowing well lottie isn't one to scream her love from the rooftops. with his hands on her lower back. making her stomach do cartwheels.

god I love him. I want him.

"I want to though" lottie said, looking into his eyes. eyes that lottie thought were heart shaped starring deeply into her soul. leaning on her tiptoes to kiss his soft sweet lips again.

the boy who was her boyfriend. the boy she loved. the boy who knew she loved him. her version of superman. at least its the same thing too lottie.

the end!!

I dont know if I want to make this into an au or leave it as it is. we'll see!

[eldritch-queern-magicat]

I wish I could apologize to my cousins for being such an unstable, sometimes just plain mean, mess. It's not about being forgiven, necessarily, but just clearing the air between us on my end. It really hurts that we're all like this now. I just want to know I did everything I could to make things better. It'll hurt if they still don't want anything to do with me. But at least I'll know I tried.

It wasn't my fault for being so easy to take advantage of. I was outright groomed in foster hell to be used for sexual gratification. It was sort of just, might as well use me like that since I'm already basically a demon and not a real human child, anyway. I was never allowed to be innocent. They kept punishing me because according to them, I was constantly misbehaving. I just wouldn't learn, they said. And it only got worse with time.

Some parts did become suicidal, and they were shoved down as far as possible. Some of us were damn well aware of how much we were butchering our face. It was often very subconscious behavior, but not always. Some of us liked doing that damage to our face. We don't have a specific reason, either. It's just a consequence of what we were brainwashed with.

It was a shock just how much our family actually cared to make absolutely sure we got reconstructive surgery. It was an even bigger shock in the sixth grade when I was dealing with the top of my head being in itch-like nerve pain, and the teacher and my classmates freaked out in genuine concern for me because I was bleeding. I hadn't even noticed until they said something. Really, I didn't have any chance to look at my fingers between the pain and paying attention to class. So all I felt when they pointed it out was my rising panic and fear of judgement. Judgement that didn't even happen.

And still, I go back to much of my own family who won't talk to me at all anymore. Family that treated me like an outsider. Family that turned an already severely abused kid into even more of a villain. Family who often barely even tried to make sure I was alright. Family that prioritized appearing completely normal over actually being psychologically stable. The only adult family member around consistently who seemed to want me there was Grandma. I felt in everyone else's way most of the time.

Maybe I'll never see or speak to those cousins again. And maybe it'll be for the best. But it hurts right now, and I keep wishing it could be different.

-Cal 🛞😺

[wordstome]

Single Dad!König (Dream Daddy au)

(+ a bit of Ghost under the cut)

Thank you to everyone who indulged (said exactly what I asked them to say 😅) me.

Here’s the paragraph I wrote:

I imagine his heart sinking when Ava comes home sad and quiet, unwilling to look her dad in the eye. He recognizes what that means: that used to be him as a kid. His worst fears are confirmed when Ava admits she's being harassed by a boy at school, replaced by anger when Ava says her teachers simply shrugged and told her that boys will be boys, and has she considered that maybe he just has a crush on her? Needless to say, by the time König's walking out of that school, nobody will ever be hurting his little girl ever again. Honestly, one glimpse of Ava's dad by her classmates will keep her free from bullying for the rest of her life.

Now here’s a bit more about single dad König, namely, how he came to be a dad…and single :( Angst and death tw ahead (nothing graphic)

With Ghost, I said he would only have had Caden due to an accident, because of Simon’s previous trauma involving his family. He was firmly in the mindset that he would die in the field, he’s just not built for civilian life anymore, he's a danger to everyone who loves him. However, when Caden shows up at his doorstep, all he can think about is Tommy and his nephew Joseph when he looks at the boy. He probably does his best to get Caden sent to a different family member, but let’s suspend our disbelief that any responsible social worker would leave a kid with Simon “Ghost” Riley for a moment and say that the social worker is like “It’s you or the foster care system.” Realistically, Simon would probably be like “foster care is safer than living with me” but for the purposes of the AU, he took the kid in.

With König, he doesn’t have the same trauma/hangups regarding kids and family. He’s in the same boat as Simon: he’s a human weapon, and can’t function properly in civilian life. For König, his work is an outlet and keeps him stable. I’m gonna have to sit down and make a proper post about my König’s character (Alexander), but for my König, violence is a method of regulating his emotions and a way to manage his anxiety. Having power and being hyper competent in the field is key to his mental stability. However, I think he would be able to settle down, it would just take a very patient, special woman. (For the purposes of the AU his first partner is AFAB she/her.) Here’s where I start breaking hearts… 🤭

In Dream Daddy au, König considers his first wife the love of his life. She deeply understood him as a person and wasn’t afraid of him, even when he was socially awkward and intimidating. They were honestly kindred spirits: both of them had their neuroses and flaws, but instead of trying to fix each other or mold the other into some ideal partner, they accepted each other and thus were able to grow together. (And tbh they were already a match made in heaven anyway.) König’s wife never asked him to quit, and was completely ready to raise a child with him frequently being gone. She was a badass woman, and she really, really wanted to start a family with him, so they had Ava.

For three years, König was probably the happiest he’s been in a long time, and if you asked him he’d probably say it was the happiest time in his life. He was moving up the ranks at work, his mental health was in check, and he had a wife and adorable little daughter to go home to every leave. He started planning to transfer to a safer/more stable position, because as much as the military has done for him, he’s ready to step up as a father and a husband. Then he gets a call that changes his life forever, and suddenly he doesn’t get a choice anymore.

(I'm eternally sorry to the little fictional people I made up in my head because I entertained the idea of putting the Brooklyn 99 "Guess who got murdered!" gif here...)

One thing y'all need to know about my man Alexander is that he is the embodiment of "I am not meant for casual. I was born for soul-crushing devotion." His problem is that he never had devotion before his wife: he craved it like a starving man, and it engulfed him like water flowing into a basin when he got it. He had it for a handful of years (I'm thinking 6 but that's a flexible number), and now it's gone again. You know in movies when something horrible happens and they cut all the noise and there's just a high pitched ringing sound? That's König getting that phone call.

God. All I can imagine is König dropping everything and taking the next flight home. He’s in a daze, in a way that he’s never quite been before. His mind is finally quiet, but the emptiness is not peaceful. Then he finally sees his little girl, she runs into his arms, and the dam bursts. He just holds her and cries. He’s numb, a dead man walking throughout all the business that needs to be taken care of after his wife’s death. The only thing that brings him back to the land of the living is Ava. She’s so small, so sweet, and she doesn’t really understand what death means: all she knows is that her mama’s gone somewhere, and her dad is so, so sad all the time. She’s all that keeps him going, and the only reason he keeps himself alive.

By the time you come into his life, it’s been several years, but Ava is still a little girl. She doesn’t remember her mother at all except what König tells and shows her, because he’s determined to keep her memory alive. König’s been slowly rebuilding who he is as a person from whatever scraps are left. There’s a gaping hole inside him, and he’s reconstructed himself around the hole. In some ways he’s a totally new man, in other ways, he’s gone back to who he was before his wife came along. He’s bitter and angry at the way his life has treated him just as he was as a young man, but now he’s swallowed up by guilt and self loathing. He's gotten better at coping and functioning as the years have passed and life has continued on, but his grief has never really gone away.

(alexa, play "right where you left me" by taylor swift)

[slutshamethesquirrels]

The Breadline - Prologue

pairing: recovering!line cook!eren yeager x fat! fem! reader TW's: alcoholism, recovery, mentions of abuse, mentions of domestic violence, foster care, child custody, foster system, CPS, mentions of body/weight

In a small town, a determined young you strives to secure stability for yourself and your younger sister after being granted custody. Facing constant job challenges, you manage to land a position at a local restaurant, The Flying Plate. Amidst the chaos, you discover an unexpected connection with Eren Yeager, a line cook with a few secrets of his own.

authors note: this fic is old but gold, and i will be finishing it soon. please be gentle with criticisms and expect more typos and word farts than usual because this is the first fic i ever wrote. also sorry to my jjk stans i know, I KNOW this is an aot fic but bear with me please?? promise i have not stopped working on my jjk fics at all part 2 of suguru blue is almost ready love youuuuu

You had always wanted to be smaller, but in that moment your yearning was especially strong, as if you lost enough weight you could shrink past the size of the model-esque figures you saw in the media and continue to wither away until you were nothing but dust. You’d be safe from responsibilities you hadn’t planned on taking, safe from the pile of overdue bills threatening to bust the seams of the junk drawer in the kitchen, and safe from the piercing gaze of Erwin Smith.

He wasn’t a particularly cold man, but he had the ability to turn your life from bad to worse, and everytime he smiled you were reminded of just how powerful he truly was. Just as easily as his lips curved, he could pack Ellie up, put her in his government-issued vehicle and only allow you to see her on weekends, if that. Admittedly, sometimes you wondered if that would be better for her.

He said your name with that stern type of gentleness, like a teacher who just caught you passing notes in class, and you tore your eyes away from the untouched black coffee occupying your hands. You had made two cups; one for you and one for the all-too-powerful Mr.Smith before realizing the milk in the fridge was spoiled. In the same moment, you’d received a text from him telling you he was two minutes out, ten minutes before your scheduled start time. In your panic for completing finishing touches, you’d had no time to become preoccupied with the idea of him inspecting your fridge and finding the rotten dairy. With no time to take the garbage out, you’d simply chucked the gallon into the yard, plastic and all.

“Look, I’m not in the business of taking children away from the people that love them, no matter what you may think.”

You could feel his eyes boring holes into you, and lifted your gaze to him, forcing a nervous smile that looked a little more deranged than the warm and caring guardian you were trying so desperately to portray.

“But,” he continues, the singular word striking the forced grin from your face “You simply must keep consistent employment. We’ve talked about this too many times.”.

“I know, sir. I’m trying. I really am.” you insist, discarding your mug on the table in front of you and rubbing your hands together nervously, trying hard not to explode with a myriad of excuses.

You had gone through six jobs in the past year, everytime being terminated for issues with reliability. Car troubles, sickness, and issues finding childcare had plagued you. You’d never had issues with employment before you’d become Ellie’s sole guardian. You’d been a full time employee at the local music shop, repairing guitars and pianos for people who had more money than talent or love for the craft. On the weekends, you’d perform at the local dive-bar, stashing your tips away to fund an eventual move to Nashville. You had been so close, only a few hundred dollars left to go, when you’d received a call from the state. They had your sister, safe from the clutches of your alcoholic parents, and hoping they could find a relative to take her. The other option was for her to become a ward of the state, bounced around the system until the ripe old age of 18, when she’d subsequently be kicked from the nest of whatever facility held her. You felt there was no real choice to be made. Your savings went to a deposit on a bigger apartment in a shittier part of town, a fresh wardrobe for her, and a beater car to transport the two of you, since the only apartment you could afford was no longer in a walkable area.

“Do you have proof of this ‘trying’ you’ve been doing?” he questioned, letting out a huff as you used shaky hands to pass him the stack of papers you’d kept tucked beside you on the couch. In the packet were hundreds of rejection EMails, and screencaps of all your applications marked ‘pending’ or ‘denied’. He flicked through the stack with little regard, and stopped about a third of the way through, signaling that he got the point.

A thick silence settled across the small living room, nothing but the hum of the air conditioning unit and the upstairs neighbors footsteps echoing throughout the cramped space. You desperately try to get a read on the man, but doing so was damn near impossible. He came off in a manner you could only describe as unwavering, with a perfect posture and a thick brow accentuating ocean blue eyes. He was beautiful, and terrifying.

Eventually, he broke the silence:

“I’m not supposed to do this, know that I am taking a huge risk to help you out-”

You perked up slightly at the sound of that, raising your eyebrows and leaning forward slightly in anticipation, nodding slightly.

“-but I have a friend who runs that diner off of Highway 9, The Flying Plate. I could reach out and see if he would be willing to give you an interview. I know waiting tables probably isn’t ideal, but given your current situation-”

“Are you serious?!” Your face lit up as you realized the opportunity that was being presented to you. Money was incredibly tight, and a waitressing gig would mean instant money at the end of every shift. “Yes! Yes thank you! I could start tomorrow-!”. Erwin held his hand up, a signal for you to lower your expectations just a bit, but your excitement could barely be contained. So much so that the warning he laid out was all but meaningless.

“Listen, I can’t make any promises, okay? It’s not a guarantee. And even if I can get you an interview, it doesn’t mean anything. This guy’s kind of tough, not easy to impress.”.

Regardless, the hope you got from that moment lasted the rest of the evening, the nervousness underneath only surfacing when you received a text from an unknown number:

This is Levi, the manager over at The Flying Plate. Your interview is at 8:30 AM. Arrive on time, and use the doorbell at the back door for entry. Do not be late.

m a s t e r l i s t