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#you're gonna get your mother fucking bread that you've been promised
ninebluehearts · 1 year
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No idea if this has been done yet or not, but maybe Agent Whiskey with a single mom? Also love your work!
I'm gonna scream- THIS IS PERFECT ANON!!!
And thank you baby 🥺💗
Part 2 part 3
18+
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"Shit!" Your alarm blared throughout your bedroom, waking both you and your boyfriend. "You've gotta go!" You whisper yelled, pushing his shoulder before jumping up to gather his clothes from the night before.
Whiskey was only supposed to come over for a quick hook-up, but both of you were just so tired, and he was so warm.. Needless to say, you both fell asleep.
Madeline, your nine-year-old daughter, didn't know about Whiskey yet. You wanted to introduce them, but there just never seemed to be a good time.
Whiskey flopped over onto his back, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched. "Darlin', we've been together for almost a year now. Don't you think it would just be easier to tell her?"
"We've talked about this Jack. I just don't think she's ready." You threw his clothes at him, hurrying into your closet to get yourself dressed.
Your daughter had never really had a father figure before and you honestly didn't know how she'd feel about having one. And if things didn't work out between you and Whiskey and you had to take that away from her? You just couldn't risk it until you were sure this was going to work.
"Yeah, two months ago. Listen, from the sounds of it, she'd want you to be happy."
"Yes, and I want her to be happy. I don't want to force her to like my boyfriend just for the sake of my own happiness. My Mother pulled that shit and I still resent her for it."
Whiskey finished buckling his belt, now walking over to hug you from behind as you buttoned your jeans. "This is different. We're not forcing her to do anything. I just don't wanna sneak around anymore." Whiskey pressed his lips against your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "I wanna hold you in the mornings, mamas."
You bit your lip to hold back your gasp, pressing back into him. "No marks Jack."
Whiskey hummed, his hand slowly moving down your navel. "That's another thing. I wanna start markin' you up; showin' people who you belong to."
You hated that he was right. You wanted him to be wrong, but with his sweet, husky accent rumbling so close to your ear, you could say yes to anything in that moment. "I-"
"Mom? We're gonna be late!" Madeline knocked on your door, jiggling the locked handle.
Your eyes shot open. "Shit!" You hurried over and opened the door, just enough for you to see one another. "Goodmorning baby! Listen, can you please throw some bread in the toaster for me? I promise I'll be right down."
Madeline nodded, pushing the door open wide enough so she could give you a hug, before making her way downstairs.
You shut the door with a sigh, relief flooding throughout your body.
"This is ridiculous." Whiskey mumbled, sitting on the edge of your bed before forcefully shoving his boots on.
You bit the nail on your thumb, trying to figure out a solution. "Alright, alright. What are you doing Saturday night?"
Whiskey raised his eyebrow. "Why? So, you can fuck me and then kick me out afterwards?"
"Okay, I deserve that." You walked over and sat next to him, reaching over to hold his hand. "It's Wednesday now. I promise that over the next few days I will tell Madeline about us, and then on Saturday we can all go out for dinner. Okay?"
"You promise? Because you've said that before.."
"Jack, her hamster died! I couldn't exactly tell her about you while she was mourning!"
"Fair enough." Whiskey said with a chuckle, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
"I promise. I'll tell her."
Whiskey nodded, leaning his forehead against yours. "It's gonna be okay. You know that, right?"
You took in a shaky breath, squeezing his hand. "I know."
"Good. Now, I do have to get to work and that little one's gotta get to school, so you should probably go.."
"Oh shit! You're right. Okay." You pressed a quick kiss to his lips, pulling away when you stood up. "Saturday?"
Whiskey nodded. "Saturday."
You walked over and unlocked your door. "I love you." You said, turning around to smile at him.
"I love you too darlin'. "
"Mom! I think the toaster's on fire!" Madeline called from the kitchen.
You shook your head. "Coming!" You blew Whiskey a kiss before running downstairs, leaving him to wait in your bedroom until you managed to get yourself and Madeline out the door.
It was going to be difficult, but Whiskey and Madeline would get along, right? Both of them seemed to be trouble makers so..
God help you.
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cyberneticlagomorph · 2 years
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You aren't sure if the sun is rising or setting by the time you come stumbling back into the house and halfway collapse into the nearest chair.
A little pale face with big red eyes peers around a corner, only to vanish before you can get a good look at it, but judging by the sounds of scampering feet and Egg's shrill cry of "NONNA!! NONNA!!" you can guess who it is.
Your Ma, Harley, comes in shortly after with a hesitant relief plain on her face, Egg at her heels with your phone in her mouth. 
You weren't even aware that you'd dropped it.
Ma tells Egg to call off the metaphorical search for you while she checks Bibi (you) over.
 … you didn't even know Egg could read, let alone type. New child locks will be put into place the moment you don't feel like someone beat you with a spiral ham.
Gentle fingers ghost over a darkening bruise and you hiss like a cat in a trap, Ma winces sympathetically. 
You're mostly just bruised up.
The worst injury you've got is a split lip and a broken nose that you've managed to reset by yourself, the bleeding from that has mostly stopped anyway but you feel like you're gonna hork up a clot at any minute probably.
Ma looks you in the eyes, retrieving a first aid kit from nowhere in particular, "Why do you look like me after the first time that bitch Waller recruited me…" she gestures at your face, tube of biofreeze in hand, "not the injuries, but the vibes."
You just smile wryly in a 'you must be fucking psychic' kind of way and watch her eyes narrow as she reads your face like a book.
"Was it fucking Waller? i'll skin her alive." She wipes the gross snot-blood crust from around your mouth and nose, and you suddenly feel like a kid again as you try very hard not to squirm.
"God I wish, her I could at least eat y'know?" Your stomach yells at the concept of food and Ma gives you a smile of her own.
"Oh I think I FELT that. Come, mama's been cookin her tight lil tush off."
She helps you up, just like she used to when you were little and stupid and kept getting in fights with the little clown kids back in Gotham. 
It felt just like this. 
Like biofreeze and concern, and love.
Your legs are wobbly from lack of sleep and maybe a mild concussion but the promise of Food urges you on, with Egg close behind you. 
Ma watches you like a hawk as she guides you into the kitchen and whistles for the Babies, her twin hyenas Bud and Lou.
They appear out of nowhere, spectral beasts of pure emotional energy.
Each the size of a fully grown bull moose before they remember their manners and 'fold up' into mostly regular hyenas.
Bud shoves his muzzle into your face, sniffing and nuzzling as if he hasn't seen you in a thousand years. The markings on his face make him look like he's smiling, even though you can nearly taste his concern. 
By contrast, Lou perpetually looks like he's about to cry at any moment. 
They're the closest things to brothers you've ever had, and they certainly act like it. 
Right now they're doing their best to keep you awake and conscious so you can eat
… and also trying to steal treats when Ma isn't looking. 
But mostly the keeping you awake thing!
You talk while you eat, shoveling bread and soup into your face as fast as possible, trying desperately to explain the situation as best you can but you don't have all the details yet so it's harder to form coherent sentences than you initially anticipated. 
Ma knows the importance of keeping you talking-- and asks about who worked you over, before talking a lot of shit about them, their bedroom preferences and their mothers. 
Your brothers cackle in response. 
You smile, all sharp teeth and black gums, "I did manage to take a couple fingers with me before I left," you nudge Lou away from your plate a second too late and watch him inhale your bread roll, "I dunno what they expected, putting their hands in my face like that."
Ma snorts, taking your bowl and refilling it for the third or fourth time, "Idiots! just like arkham."
She goes on a small tirade about cops and the justice system and exactly how many pigs she could demolish with one hammer swing while you continue to eat.
The quantity of food and hydration you consume would be surprising, if you'd eaten anything except fingers since yesterday. 
By the time you're finished, the exhaustion is back and tugging at your limbs. 
Dragging you down into the depths of sleep.
Making it hard to chew, let alone string a sentence together. 
Ma won't let you pass out at the table, bless her, and manages to get you safely in bed before your body can really give up.
You're asleep before your head can hit the pillow, with Lou sprawled across your legs and Bud's big head tucked under one arm like when you were little. 
Ma stays to keep an eye on the three of you, and make sure you're not concussed.
And as the dreams prepare to drown you, you realize that this the safest you've felt in a very long time.
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To Hell & Back
Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”
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Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?
Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”
Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence. 
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
--
Part one [In case you missed it]
----
It's Saturday.
Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.
Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.
Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.
So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.
Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.
"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."
You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"
He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.
You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"
"Accidentally?"
"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."
He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.
It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.
But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.
"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"
You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"
"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.
"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.
"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"
"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."
You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.
"Who are the muffins for?"
They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.
"You coming or not?"
"Let me grab a wine and the keys."
"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."
"I'm bringing the wine."
"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."
"Why are you always so violent?"
--
"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.
You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.
You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."
"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."
"Maybe I just like spending time with you."
Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.
The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.
But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.
Because he just had to have a conscious.
"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.
Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.
Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.
One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.
He didn't have one.
He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"
"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."
At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"
"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."
"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"
"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."
"Wow."
"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"
He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."
"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."
Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.
He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.
He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.
But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."
"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"
"Oh, fuck you!"
***
You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.
An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.
The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.
Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.
You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.
"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."
"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.
Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.
He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.
Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.
Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.
"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."
The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"
"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"
"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"
You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."
He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.
It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.
Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.
"I hate your brother-in-law-"
"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."
He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"
Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.
"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."
You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.
"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"
You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.
"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"
Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"
He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"
"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."
Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.
Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.
The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.
He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.
If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.
"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.
You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.
"If Captain, why Wings?"
Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."
Again, you obey the silent instruction.
"Where were we-"
"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”
"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."
"And you know this because?"
"I like to always be prepared."
"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"
You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."
He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.
You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.
That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.
"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."
You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.
The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.
He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.
He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.
Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.
You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."
It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.
"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"
"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"
"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"
You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.
---
Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ , @arctic-duchess​
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Ali & Tess
A nice pre-Christmas argument
Tess joined the chat 2 hours ago Ali: Mamacita! How's tricks? Did you manage to get the gum out of Rocky's hair in the end or is he rocking a no.1 rn? Tess: It's hat season he'll be fine. It's your da you need to worry about if he doesn't get those bloody Christmas decs out Ali: At least you'll be saved the toxic fumes of the nit shampoo, like. I'll make him some earmuffs, ears like that, he'll get frostbite. Ali: Aww, leave off, he's got a bad back, like 😜 Ali: Caleb can come help with the heavy shit, he's like an ox, I'll be creative director, obvs, I've got the eye, he's got the body Ali: 😉 Tess: I hope you've got plenty of wool 'cause the dog got to ours and its a bloody state. He'll have a bad head to go with it in a minute. Nah you're alright bab Tommy's offered and Drew might as well make himself useful now he's sniffing round again. Ali: Well, there goes your classic jumper presents! Have to brave dem crowds, fight a bitch for the last...idk, what do kids even want these days? Last I heard from Rock mutant turtles and power rangers were back in vogue but they're probably out again, its been a week or so 😏 Contrary fuckers, eh? I was NEVER that bad, was I? Bet you wish you could relieve those easy years raising me, the dream child 😇 Ali: Alright then, though I wouldn't recommend confining Tommo and Drew to a space as small as the loft, T is gunning for him Ali: aren't we all? but hey 🤷 see if those muscles are just for show ay Tess: He's still on about that slime bollocks. Supposedly this stuff blows bubbles and expands or whatever. All I'm bothered about is that it says it ain't sticky. Better sodding not be. Ha! If you weren't being a little demon you were trying to raise them. Easy ain't the word love! Tess: I'll put Drew at the bottom of the ladder. Maybe some of the boxes'll land on his head. Knock some sense into the lad. Ro too seeing as she's never far. Ali: That shit is such a rip-off though, I could make him some dead cheap, tell him he can have it whatever colour, whatever random shit he wants in it, and no one else will have the same at School Ali: Save your money for the feast 💃'cos I won't be absolutely stuffed from my first xmas dinner, like, nah Ali: and demons need love too, ma, just ask Ro Ali: will he be joining us for meal numero dos? cos i don't think i can stomach 2 helpings of him in one day tbh Tess: Tell him yourself. I tried to make some with him in the summer and the ungrateful little sod wouldn't even come sit up the table. His loss. They loved it at work. Tess: Don't. That girl'll do me in one of these days . I'm surviving on spite by now 'cause he'll be eating with us over my dead body. Caleb's lot are welcome to keep him. Ali: I'm tellin ya get the kid some prescription speed, it'll do him wonders 😂 Well, that's another idea fucked...tis the season! Ali: I know, it ain't even funny at this point. Ali: You know she's gonna wanna go see him, yeah? You'll never get her to sit through games and shit telly once she's picked at her veg Ali: Its like kid swap up in here Tess: If I can get some what's on her plate into her instead of just the dog I'll be laughing. Fuck's sake. Kids who'd celebrate 'em? Grandkids on the other hand. Mary'd have been proper buzzing for that. Ali: Oi, woman! I'm right here Ali: and the giver of majority grandkids, so, think on, love Tess: You're even stevens kiddo. Keep it that way 'til you're done with uni yeah? Call that the xmas gift that keeps giving. Ali: yeah but a twofer ain't the same, is it? 😜 don't make promises i can't keep, ma Ali: engineering students are so fit, how will i resist? Tess: Tell that to Bea. I'm sure she'd have plenty to say back. Ali Mckenna don't test me there's plenty of room in the car when we go for Tommo's new specs I can get you in too. Ali: Yeah, yeah, she can lord it over me with her efficient vagina, getting it done in one, I'll be many bucks fizzes deep by then, give a shizzle Ali: Gurl, my vision is 20/20, in my third eye too, ooOOoOoOOOo Ali: Maybe Beatrice will prove again why she's your favourite daughter by distracting Ro so much with this London visit she won't have time to pine over Drew at all, happy days Tess: That's the spirit. Save your dad's back. He still thinks he's a brawler. Tess: Shh I don't have favorites I'm not one of your teachers. Tess: I'm sure Drew'll stay one text away throughout. Never off her phone now is she. Ali: Ahh, old man could still take him, Drew's a pussy Ali: I'll get Marlene round again lmao Ali: Suuuuuuuuuuuure ya don't 😏 Ali: We can only assume texting is a medium in which he really shines, 'cos seeing them IRL, doesn't make sense, so... Tess: Now that girl is a fave, thinking 'bout it. Yeah I like her. Tess: He must know his selfie angles or some shit. Tess: You tell me I'll never see the appeal. Ali: oh, sweet mama, if only you'd voiced your preference sooner, maybe i'd of married her and had lots of gaybies instead Ali: alas 🤣 Ali: you sound 100, do you feel it? 😉 Ali: he's a vessel for her hopes and dreams, init, but he ain't, he just needs to man up and move the fuck on so she can too Tess: Like you've ever listened to your ma. Double it and you ain't close, bab. I'm in those vampiric numbers here. Tess: Yeah. Maybe try telling her that. Ali: You wish you were a vampire. Which, tbh, is telling of how old you is. Ain't nothing cool about being a basement dwelling weirdo who can't sample the wonder and joy of garlic bread. Ali: Why don't you? Oh wait, cos it ain't for either of us to say it so we'll just sit here like bitter old lemons Ali: You're a bad influence, lady Tess: If that's what you think about vampire lore then I ain't gonna even waste my breath young'un. Tess: I have, cheers. I ain't sitting on my arse doing fuck all for you lot even if that's what you reckon. Tess: Exactly. Learn a lesson. Ali: Mhmm, go tell it to the lost boys 'cos I don't give a damn, I'm getting doughballs baby Ali: Pshhh, well fat lot of good its done, why you setting me up to fail then?! Ali: I know when to bow out gracefully Tess: I don't need to 'cause we'll all be snacking. If you'd watched that movie when I offered you'd know garlic don't work in that verse. Tess: There's nothing graceful about tapping out with a fight left to finish. I thought you'd been set up to go 'til the final bell but do what you've gotta do. Or don't. Tess: There's plenty of other shit stuck to the fridge singing your praises like Ali: No thank you, there's watching some lame for jokes, then there's forcing yourself to endure kiefer sutherland and co Ali: That's sadism. Ali: Well, there's nothing graceful about kicking a girl when she's down Ali: going blow for blow ain't always the right approach, is it? not with someone like Ro so don't start alright Tess: Lame? And you wonder why you ain't my fave. Tess: Helping your sister up is always the right approach if you don't want her to stay down. Tess: I'm not starting anything. I've said my piece. End of. Ali: C'mon, I know even Joe couldn't pretend to like it, like Ali: That's my point, she ain't fell yet, she's on a Drew-related high so pardon me from not trying take the rug from up under her Ali: not that I could if I tried, like I said, what good has you 'saying your piece' done? Ali: sometimes all you can do is be there to pick up the pieces after, that's just facts Tess: You all take after your da is why. No taste none of ya. Tess: It's done me a lot of good being able to get it on the record each time, cheers. Tess: sometimes that's a cop out 'cause you want a easy life Tess: Fact is there's plenty that could have been done before he did his reappearing act. Ali: Oh, yeah? Like what? Changing her entire worldview in time for tea? Ali: If it was that easy, you would've managed it by now Ali: Don't be so hard on yourself, your not doing her, or any of us, a favour with this shit Tess: He's a dealer it is that easy. It ain't my job to manage it though. You all wanna be treated like adults and have me wipe your arses for you at the same time I think not. Do yourself and her, a favor and use that big brain of yours. Ali: You think she doesn't know? Now who's being thick Ali: She doesn't care, so unless you're planning to cop shop him that means sweet fuck all doesn't it Tess: It ain't about what she knows. Last I checked he's not the only dealer in Dublin. There's still some honor among scumbags and more than one way to get caught out. Ali: Aww, such a softie at heart, ain't ya? Tess: Takes one to know one. Ali: That is one small step above 'I know you are but what am I?' Ali: No one wants Drew to get kneecapped or Ro to be collateral but he wants to be treated like an adult, so we can't wipe his arse, can we? Tess: Speak for yourself I'd spend my reddies to see that. However bad he thinks he is there's always someone worse and the sooner he learns it the better for all of us having to watch him play silly beggars Tess: Ro's worth a million of him maybe when she's grown up she'll know it. Ali: Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're such a hard bitch. Maybe if he'd got proper help from people like you he woulda turned out better when he was grown too. Ali: It ain't too late for either of them. Tess: I'm what I've had to be. I can't save 'em all. Not even close. You'd be well to stay away from him if you've still got the sense you were born with. Ali: Yeah but you still try, don't you? Read back your previous wisdom for your answer there. Ali: Bit hard when we live in the same gaff isn't it but I can assure you I'm not going out of my way to be his bestie, mother Tess: I ain't about to flog a dead dog. He ain't a stupid kid anymore and what happened when he was a little 'un ain't an excuse either Tess: Nobody's got it easy. Tess: It's up to him to work out if his turning point's come and gone or if he even reckons he needs one. Ali: You don't have to but you can see the pretense Ro is working under, yeah? She doesn't think she's doing anything wrong and, arguably, she ain't. But sometimes all you get for your efforts is a kick in the teeth. Ali: Nobody's got it easy. Ali: It's up to HER to call time, not us. Tess: Who says? I've been there. Thinkin I had it all and knew even more about my future with my dream boy. Nobody came to clue me in but even now I wish they fucking had done. Ali: Like you'd have listened. Tess: If I had someone who gave a shit maybe Tess: She'd listen to you. Ali: Say you had, would you have done anything differently? Even if you knew how it'd go, if you didn't have Ronnie, you might still be with Josh now Ali: It changes everything about you Ali: I don't think she would. There's no reasoning because there is no reason, or rhyme for that matter Tess: Of course I would. I'd do everything differently. I'm not trying to romanticise who I was. Or am. Tess: Change ain't no bad thing when it comes to this. Or me Tess: Because you don't wanna think that she would and deal with all the shit that comes with her doing that. I don't blame ya but that don't make it right Tess: it's still a cop out. Ali: Well, I hope it soothes YOUR soul villainizing yourself because as someone who's half you, it's not something that is helpful, at all. Ali: Who's been there for her after every break-up? Who has to listen to every fucking detail? It ain't been you. And I can assure you I didn't spend those times when he was out of the picture singing his fucking praises. I HAVE told her. Everyone has. It just pisses you off that you can't fix this, or her. Tess: You're all you. Your own person. End of. Tess: And it should help you to know the truth. I was a bad person Ali and I ain't exactly sainted now. I do my best that's all any of us've got. Deal with it. Tess: I'm sorry you want a gold star or pat on the head for doing what you're supposed to for who you love. You're not getting it from me. Try your luck with your da maybe. Tess: And yeah it does piss me off so what? Ali: That isn't close to being true. There's no such thing as an individual, sorry to burst your bubble. Ali: And no one is one or the other. Christ, you're so fucking old testament. Ali: If your going in for all that shite, you should look at how revered a knocked-up teenage girl is whilst you're at it Ali: No one gives a shit about your war stories, they don't help anyone but you so you keep all that anger and hold it tight 'cos none of us are here for it any more Ali: Good luck trying to get Rocky to sit still so you can tell him all about damnation to scare him straight, good fucking luck Tess: You're not gonna change my mind. If you were anything close to being half of me we wouldn't be having this conversation. Tess: Life's black and white for me. That's what happens when you don't have choices. Call it what you like. Tess: And there's nothing to be preached to me about being a knocked up teen by you or anyone else. I ain't trying to either you just think it's that onesided 'cause you never listen Tess: There you go again speaking for everyone else when you mean yourself. But whatever. Tess: Get your own stories and leave mine out of it. Tess: Grow up, Ali. Ali: Now there's a copout if I ever heard one. Ali: Listen to what? What are you spouting but hot air? Ali: Oh, yeah? What one of your sainted children has benefitted? Ronnie hates you, Joe's a junkie, me and Fraze did exactly what you did. Ali: Tommy is passable but he's unhappy as fuck so, well done there. You've only got one left. Ali: What's the point? No one can ever match up to your infinite wisdom, I'd rather stay young so I knew what the hell I was talking about instead of making myself look like an old fool
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