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shamrockqueen · 7 months

Text

Father figure

Pairing : Best Friend’s Dad Bucky x Reader

Warnings : Angst, Bad friends, Older man younger woman Dynamic, (age references removed and reader is recounting it as an adult)

Word count : 2167

AO3 page Link

Chapter 1 link

Chapter 2

Things stayed quiet, but at least they kind of got better. It had been a week or two since you’d welcomed Becky and her family back into your life.

A pounding at your window around 12pm woke you from an already uncomfortable sleep. You looked over at the drawn curtains, waiting for the sound again.

A *Knock knock knock* at the window of your ground-floor bedroom.

You pushed out of bed, readjusting your messy t-shirt and shorts as you groggily walked to the curtains. You weren’t surprised to see Becky on the other side of the glass, her dark hair nearly blending in with the night.

She didn’t look very happy, and her frustration was even more evident when she tried to jerk open the locked window. It wasn’t a new sight to see an angry Becky trying to force her way into your room, a popular choice of hers for when she had been out doing something she shouldn’t have and needed a place to hide before absconding by midnight.

"Open up!" You could hear her through the glass before you finally unlocked the window and pulled it up, and she immediately crawled past you.

"You can’t be yelling this late at night; you're gonna to wake my mom up."

"Whatever!" She stomped towards your bed before throwing herself onto it and grappling at one of your teddy bears.

You have a huff before shutting the window and locking it again.

"What’s wrong?" You slumped back onto the other side of the bed as you tried to find what made her mad this time.

"It doesn’t fuckin matter." A classic Becky move, but you’d played this game before, and with enough prying, you’d get her to talk instead of sulking into one of your old teddy bears.

"Clearly it mattered to you because you were here at almost 1 in the morning instead of asleep."

"Shut up!" She turned and tossed the bear at you, clearly choosing to act more like a child than her actual age.

"Keep your voice down. You wake my mom up, and she’s gonna kick you out again." You seethed before throwing the stuffed animal back at her, only to miss and hit the wall beside the bed.

Becky dropped her arms from above her head to her sides, hitting the bed with a thump. "Everything’s just so stupid; it fucking sucks." She grumbled, but at least she made an effort to keep her voice down.

"What happened?" You ask tiredly, rubbing your eyes as you wait for an answer.

"I called my mom today." She answered meekly. Conversations with her mom often brought out the worst in her, making it unsurprising that she’d snuck out to blow off steam.

"What’d she say?" You asked worriedly, not waking to try to break the already weak foundation that Becky stood on.

"She said I couldn’t visit her this summer. She said that she and STUPID Mason and their STUPID kids already planned their vacation, and that she can’t just change her plans at the drop of a hat because I want her to."

You just laid beside her, silent in the dark, as a sob cut through the air, and you turned to see streaks of tears training down her face. Becky had such a complicated relationship with her mom, especially when she often thought she had to compete with a new family.

"Why do you want to visit her anyway? You hate the twins, and you hate your stepdad." You say this quietly as you sit up to look at your friend. "Every time you visit, you call me to tell me how snotty they are and how crappy they treat you."

He huffed a small laugh before answering, "I know, but…it’s just that she doesn’t call anymore. She doesn’t visit. She doesn't care." She hugged the pillow as her voice grew weaker.

"That can’t be true; all moms have to care at least a little. I mean, you're her kid; she can’t just forget about you." You always tried to reassure her, but her face just continued to fall.

"It feels like she’s trying to."

"You still have your dad." Your words rang in your ears just as you said them. The memory of that night is still heavy in your mind. Just the way his psyche must have shattered to propel him to do what he did made you shudder a little.

"There’s something wrong with him." Every word added a little more weight to your heavy heart as she spoke. You feared how much she really knew and who she would be mad at the most.

"What do you mean?" You didn’t turn to look at her as you spoke, not wanting her to catch a glimpse of guilt in your eyes, even in the dark.

"He’s just been acting really off lately, like…he won’t talk to me, and it just feels like he’s trying to avoid me now. Ever since that party, he’s just shut off."

You could feel your stomach knowing together as she spoke. You have a very good idea why he’s acting so uncomfortably, but it’s not something you could tell her.

"He just doesn’t want to see you get like that. I mean, he is your dad; stuff like that is going to upset him."

"It’s not the same. He’s never been this upset before. It’s like he’s shut down or something." Her eyes start to tear up as she continues, "Maybe this time I finally made him snap."

"No way. It just has to be a lot of stress on him."

"I don’t know. Something’s just wrong."

The crack in your nerves deepened painfully as she spoke. You knew very well what was wrong and why. Something was wrong, very wrong, and there was nothing you could do to fix it now. You just stared out at the ceiling, waiting for her to talk again.

Instead, she seemed to nod off before you found the ability to even find sleep. No, you were still so shaken by the new knowledge you had found that you lay there motionless instead.

A small light lit up beside you. A notification beaming out into your room from where Becky’s phone sat on your charger.

You leaned out of bed as your eyes adjusted to the new source of light to see Mr. Barnes’ picture blink across the screen as the silent call fell to Becky’s voicemail.

You look back at her and then back at the phone, just tapping the screen to see the number of messages her father left her.

She sneaks out a lot, but she more than often ends up sleeping off her night on your bedroom floor. This gave Mr. Barnes at least some peace of mind not to go running out into the night for his daughter, but he was still her father and had desperately tried reaching out to Becky.

The first few times Becky had snuck out, it had caused a lot of trouble, and he’d come speeding through the neighborhood trying to find her.

Now, he could easily drive by and spot her bike propped up against your mailbox, giving him some peace of mind to at least know she was somewhere safe.

You let her phone screen fade before letting your eyes readjust to the dark to find your phone next to hers. You unlock it and tap on your contacts icon to dig up her father’s number.

His contact photo lights up the screen. A happy photo from when he’d taken you and Becky out to see Jurassic Park. An undone blue button-up, a white tank top, and a pair of shades making him seem so much more striking than he was before. Even the loose bun that held together his once shoulder-length hair brought new definition to his smiling face; it made it seem like more and more of a shame that he’d since cut it short.

Shaking the thought away, you tuck your phone to your side before looking back at the still-sleeping Becky and slipping out of bed and snuck towards the door. Becky still snored on the other side of the room as you ducked into the hall and towards the bathroom.

The hallway is just as dark and more eerily quiet as you looked over at your mother’s room, which sat only a few feet in the other direction. You let your eyes fall on to the lightly colored wood, turned to a gray hue under the heavy blanket at night.

You quietly and carefully cross through to the bathroom before letting yourself lean onto the sink to take a quick and nervous breath. You pulled your phone from where you kept it clasped to your chest and tapped in your password to open it again. His picture lights up the screen once again before your thumb slides over the call button.

You held it to your ear as it rang for a spell. Each extra ring made your heart beat just a little slower as you waited for him to pick up the phone.

When the voicemail popped up, a heavy breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto escaped past your lips, and your heart sank into your stomach.

You ended the call without leaving a message, and you just leaned there before sitting back heavily onto the shaggy cloth toilet seat cover.

You took a few seconds before opening the phone back up and clicking the call button again.

The phone rang once, then twice…then it stopped abruptly, replaced by the sound of the other line being handled before a familiar voice filled the phone.

"Hey. Sorry, I uh…missed your call." You heard him take a deep breath before continuing with, "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I just wanted to let you know Becky’s here. She’s still asleep right now." You spoke in a whisper, making sure not to wake up anyone in the house.

"Oh, thank God. How long has she been there?"

"I think she came straight over. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner."

"No, it's fine. Thank you for letting me know." His voice didn’t seem fully relieved before he continued with, "D-did she tell you why she left?"

It was a question he hadn’t asked you before. He’d long since lost hope in understanding his daughter's misbehavior, but something in his voice seemed more fearful than before.

"I…um…just some drama with her mom, and…she." You almost couldn’t get the last few words out, as they choked up in your throat.

You stared at the tiled floor beneath your feet before finally finishing your sentence. "And she said that something seemed off. That you didn’t seem like yourself, I guess."

You could hear him swallow over the phone, taking a deep breath afterward before leaving an air of silence over the call.

"I am so sorry." He spoke so quietly that it almost couldn’t be heard over the phone. His voice was broken; it was so painful to hear it.

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Your throat seemed to just close up as your fingers tightened around the phone until it shook a little in your hand.

"I…I can try to get her home after school tomorrow, Mr. Barnes." It’s all you could think to say. Anything to avoid discussing what had happened, how it had made you feel, and what the consequences would be.

"That would be a great help, but I can take care of it. Thank you." There was still something off with his voice, like a deep crack forming on what was once unbreakable glass. "Just make sure she gets to school, alright?"

"Yes sir."

"Thank you; now just get some sleep, ok sweetheart?"

The term of endearment made your heavy heart flutter for a single second before you answered, "Okay, goodnight, sir." And the call ended with a quick click.

You hold your phone back to your chest as you take a shallow breath, remembering all that had transpired between you and Mr. Barnes. The memory still made you feel an odd but warm sensation along your body, as well as a deep ache at the thought of the same memory causing him misfortune.

A knock at the bathroom door startled you. Making you jump back and hit the tiled wall with the back of your head.

You panic and flush the empty toilet beside you, trying to create an alibi and not wanting either person in the house to know about your phone call.

You quickly tuck your phone into your shorts pocket, switch on the sink, and start washing your hands.

"Hurry up." Becky’s voice through the door made the terrible feeling in your stomach curdle even further.

Finally, you open the door to Becky’s tired face before she pushes past you with a grunted "gotta pee."

You speedily walk back to the bedroom as the bathroom door clicks shut behind her.

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nails4breakfast-tacks4snacks · 6 months

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A fever you can't sweat out

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lousydrawingsforgoodpeople · 1 year

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#punk rock #teen angst #adult angst #doodles #bad art #lousy drawings #doodle #age #angst

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g1rlr0b1n · 1 year

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Tobias March and Damian Wayne art by @laurenillustrated

Here's the cover page image for my new (and ongoing) fic Gotham Blues on AO3.

Summary: Damian Wayne is facing his toughest challenge yet...High School. Not just any High School either, no Bruce Wayne has made good on his threat, Damian Wayne has been sent away to boarding school. Come along for the ride as Damian and his new roommate Toby March navigate high school, junior year.

Rated T for Traitors ("This whole family sucks!" -Damian)

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kaleb-is-definitely-sane · 1 year

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I miss you, Long for you. My heart is filled with An agonizing desire A blazing fire Many waters cannot douse A passion This weary soul cannot house. And yet we are separate, Not together forever But kept apart, together never. Our hearts, separated By oceans and hours, Trapped in prisons of pink flowers. If it were up to me, I'd wish our roses red. Light or dark, alive or dead, It wouldn't matter, not to me, So long as they were red. So long as we were free. I tell you, I would if I could, Paint them with my love, Marinate it in my blood, But I shouldn't, I know I couldn't. I tell you I don't care if they're Black or Blue, Pink or Yellow, Blood Red or White as Snow. But you know, I know, we all know That's not how the story goes. Because truth be said Pink or Red I. Am. Dead.

-A Prison of Roses

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carmen1200 · 2 years

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We’ll never be royals

#2014 nostalgia #2014 tumblr #lorde #pure heroine #the 1975 #2014core #i miss 2014 #early 2010s #teen angst #cassie ainsworth #effy vibes #soft grunge #like and follow #lana del rey

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stevxiee · 11 days

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𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗽

✿༺ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝘅 ༻✿

➵ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌. 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗌. 𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾

➵ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒.

➵ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗈𝖻𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗋

➵ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 𝟣.𝟢𝗄

𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋

✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲'𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝘃

𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉. 𝖤𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆, 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾 - 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉. 𝖮𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌, 𝖺 𝗍-𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍, 𝖨 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗇𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗌𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 - 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖨 𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌'. 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝗉𝗌𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗃𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗒. 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖨 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺’𝗌 𝗐��𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝟣𝟢 𝗋𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖨 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖯𝗈𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖨 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗉, 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺’𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽. 𝖳𝗈 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾.

“𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉.” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾.

“𝖫𝖾𝗍’𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗁𝖺𝗁𝖺!” 𝖨 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾𝖽, 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋. 𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿, 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄.

𝖨 𝗅𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝖼𝗂𝗀, 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺. 𝖶𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽. 𝖨 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗈 𝗈𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗇, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌. 𝖧o𝗐 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍. 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽. 𝖨𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝖶𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗍, 𝗐𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗉. 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈, 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅. 𝖨 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝖿 𝖨 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇.

“𝖲𝗈,” 𝖧𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇, “𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍?” 𝖧𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌.

“𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝖺.” 𝖨 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗄𝗒, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝖨’𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌. 𝖨’𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗈𝗎𝗌. 𝖨 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾.

“𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽. “𝖨 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗈,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄, “𝖢𝗈𝗅𝖽.” 𝖤𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗍.

“𝖧𝖾𝗋𝖾,” 𝖨 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌, “𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉!” 𝖶𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖿𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌. 𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝖢𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽. 𝖧𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒, 𝗉𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗀, 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝖾𝗍. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇.

𝖶𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖲𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗒, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖫𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽.

“𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍,” 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾, 𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉𝗅𝗒, “𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖨 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝖨 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗄𝖺-𝖽𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾, 𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋-” 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖧𝖾 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁.

“𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝗒,” 𝖨 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒, “𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝖺𝖽, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍!”

“𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾.” 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖬𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽.

“𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗄.” 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝖨 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒.

“𝖥𝖠𝖦𝖦𝖮𝖳𝖲!” 𝖠 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌. 𝖢𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅.

“𝖥𝗎𝖼𝗄!” 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗁𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝖾.

“𝖦𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌!” 𝖨 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇?” 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗒𝖾𝗌.

“𝖢𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇.”

𝖶𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋. 𝖨 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝖨’𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄. 𝖨 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺. 𝖥𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝖽𝗄𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍. 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖨’𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗂𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋.

“𝖧𝖾𝗒 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗏𝖾,” 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗅 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌- “𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾?” 𝖧𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝖾𝖽, 𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽. 𝖨 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽.

𝖢𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇. 𝖠𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾, 𝖨’𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗐. 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾, 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

“𝖸’𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝖨 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾,” 𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽, “𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝖾.” 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌, “𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗌.”

“𝖲𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 ‘𝖥𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝗎𝗉’ 𝗁𝗎𝗁.” 𝖨 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗈. 𝖨 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝖾.

“𝖲𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺.” 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝖾’𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽. 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝖾𝗆’.” 𝖨 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝖲𝗈𝖽𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖨’𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗆𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾.

✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༺ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿ ༻ ✿

𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

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angelunderheaven · 3 months

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wildlife4life · 3 months

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Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the always lovely @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples and @theotherbuckley Thank you all so much! Looking forward to your future works!

Alright ya'll, today is Championship Sunday and I am a bundle of nerves. As a slight work off from all that, here is more NFL Buck, feature Christopher's POV. (All previous NFL Buck posts can be found here)

Carrying around a big secret is hard. Lying to his new friends, to his teachers, to his dad's co-workers is annoying. Christopher misses his friends and family back in Texas. He wants Buck to officially be his dad and stop lying to the whole world about being a kid free bachelor. He is scared for his dad, every time he leaves for a shift. His body is always betraying him, his new doctor brought up the possibility of another surgery, his muscles ache, and puberty is creeping in, changing him in not so fun ways. And on days like today, it is all just too much. So Christopher got angry and like his father, he lashes out. "I don't want a stupid tutor!" He snapped at his dad, who is holding Christopher's latest math test. A freaking C-. He didn't fail. Heck, it isn't even a D. But his dad and Buck, had high expectations that Christopher always failed to meet. Dad shakes his head, "Christopher this is the second low test score this month. You're barely passing math with a C." "You're acting like I'm failing! And I'm not!" Chris shouts back. "Do not raise your voice." His dad says firmly, his features crinkling with anger. Christopher huffs and plops back down in his seat, without a single retort. Dad's shoulder's drop and the burgeoning anger dissipates, replaced with soft concern, "Look, kid. We all need help every now and then. Asking for it, does not make you a failure. And its just one class. One tutor, an hour or so a couple times a week after school. Just until you feel you have a better grasp on math. Okay?" No it was not okay. An afterschool tutor meant one more person to lie too, more time taken away from friends and fun activities, and another reminder that he isn't normal. "I don't need help! I don't need a fucking tutor! And I don't need your high ass expectations that I can never meet!" Christopher flings his arm out, and shoves a decorative bowl filled with random bobbles to the floor, shattering it. Ah shit. Christopher knows he's gone too far, but he doesn't want to back down. He can't. The fury that's been building under his skin since waking up late this morning, can no longer be contained and is bursting out of him directly towards his dad. "Using Buck's money won't fix this! Fix me! And I'm only at this stupid private school because of him!" Chris won't give his dad a chance to intervene, not yet. Not when he's been holding back so much since Buck informed them of the Houston Texans wanting to trade him, "I was doing great in math at my school in Houston! Then once again Buck chose football over us! You chose Buck over me! You two never think about me! I'm failing because of you!" None of it was true. Christopher knew that, not so very deep down, but he is hurting and he needed someone to hurt too. He needed someone to understand and help take the pain away. Too bad he went at it in the most unhealthiest of ways and attacked one of two people who would do absolutely anything and everything to do exactly that. The man doesn't even flinch. Instead, his face goes flat and cold. No emotion to be found. Christopher immediately shrinks in on himself. Yea he went way too far. "Go to your room." His dad demands in level voice tight with too many emotions. Fuck. He is so grounded.

Chris is a teen having a bad day and had to break a bowl at some point. Its canon to do so. Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @jesuisici33 @devirnis @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @rainbow-nerdss @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @bekkachaos @eddiescowboy @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @athenagranted @evanbegins @elvensorceress @malewifediaz @911onabc @911-on-abc @hoodie-buck @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @thekristen999 @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @lemonzestywrites @gayedmundodiaz @transboybuckley

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