.

a thought occurred to me the other day. i would like to recount it to maintain the memory.

when my grandmother passed at the stunning age of 95, it both did and did not catch me by surprise. my dad, her son and youngest, and my mom, being the POAs and the only ones to give a shit outside of her church group and one of my aunts - my dad's sister - for several years prior, saw it coming. at 5:14am on a thursday my dad called me, and being that i am an insomniac, i answered. he said, "i guess you know why i'm calling."

"yeah. what's the next step?"

"we will let you know later today."

i went to work and did my thing. i didn't feel much outside of a vague sense of sorrow that she passed, but she had been in bad shape anyway so it was to be expected. all my coworkers were very kind and offered sympathy, which i felt i did not deserve because i felt no grief, just a sense of duty. they all asked if i needed to leave early, to which i declined and said there was no need because the overlap of my days off worked out just fine. later that day, i bought a handle of gin for when i was in the hotel room and drove the four hours there. memama, which is how we called her, desired a funeral where we all wore a champagne pink, rosé wine, blush colored piece at the event because it was her favorite color. the last time i saw her at the old folks' home she was still wearing pink. i own exactly one thing in pink so i wore it and my parents definitely appreciated it. we ordered pizza the night before.

day of. good aunt and uncle and my family hung out in memama's house. it was built by hand by my granddad in the early 60s. it still has that style to this day. an electric piano with nicotine yellow stained keys and a dusty 8-track stereo sat adjacent to a low television with carpeting on the speakers. as a kid, i would watch tv on it and watch the static lift the hair on my arms whenever i would touch the screen. if it worked and didn't weigh a metric ton i would have asked to keep it. instead, i got her collection of 8-tracks and cassettes.

the funeral was held in the same church where my parents got married over 30 years ago. from her house, it is down a steep hill, up another steep hill, toward the end of the address where a piss yellow painted brick mechanic / oil shop sits on the right and a log and tarp store of secondhand items lies to the left. go straight on past shoebox stucco houses older than me and no larger than an apartment living room bracket the road on both sides until you reach the church. it's typical baptist fare - brick build, rectangular with a small outcropping and a basketball court that my dad went and played on to mitigate his horrible cloying grief after his own dad died not a month before he and my mom got married, and that's where my memama had her final service in this life.

it is cosmically funny that the only people to sob and sniffle were the ones who barely gave a shit while she was alive, if not made her life harder. she was very kind and naive, and people around her took advantage of that like razor-teethed river fish against the pond cleaner.

it was closed casket, thank goodness. the spray of flowers were majority sent by my dad's work associates. there were at least twelve, and ten, maybe eleven, were sent by them, all in various shades of pink, purple, and yellow, with fresh and lively green stems and leaves. they stood in stark contrast to the almost burnt colored oak of all the bland furnishings and pews.

i have a shit extended family, but i will give one of my stupid cousins credit. one of my aunts, for some ungodly reason, lifted the casket open to peer at her mother in death, probably for sympathy points. she is... a character. well, she did that and turned to my cousin, her daughter, and said, "she looks so peaceful now," and my cousin guffawed and went, "mom, she looks like a corpse." which was true. i think her final weight at the end was in the eighty pound range. what fucking else is a wasted away elderly dead woman supposed to look like?

my dad and i did not cry, my sister and mother got sniffles and wept. people who did not matter or have any say about anything or have any attachment to us were sobbing like they had any leverage for anything. fuck em. holed up in the rusting sky blue trailer on the hill where i remember playing with a raccoon named rusty when i was a kid. they mean jack shit to me.

pre-service, i took a bible and read translation notes. the cousin who made a comment on my grandma's corpse nudged me and said it looked like i was studying. in a way, i was. i was studiously avoiding eye contact by skimming the segments in the old testament. jeremiah. matthew. segments of kindness toward your fellow man, followed up in quick succession by how your fellow man will be put upon the holy block and judged. i hate all religion, but i am simultaneously soothed by it because i know even back when people walked barefoot in the deserts and mountains, kindness still existed.

noon: service starts. my mom scolds me with her teeth showing to put the bible away, and that i can't draw during service. i wasn't planning on drawing, but because i had a pen in hand, that is the assumption. whatever, what fucking ever.

for two hours the service proceeds. the pastor has to be younger than i am. he recounts visiting my grandma during her final week, where she says for him to read a bible verse about kindness towards one another, about care and love, and being surrounded by people. my dad helped facilitate this. he knows the pastor well. people are crying around me. i stare at my left foot, crossed over the ankle with the right, clad in old tights, one flat shoe dangling. i don't cry.

the piano player fucking sucks, or maybe the piano itself sucks, because i hate the music. electric organ bullshit. i don't cry for the entire service. people send me condolences and ask for hugs. i don't know you fucking people, but i hug them and thank them anyway. i'm sweating in this knit pink sweater, black pencil skirt and wool tights. the spray of flowers atop my grandmother's glittering blush pink casket, like it'll explode to life in a shower of sparkles, sits between us all. i hate everyone here, even though i don't know the half of them.

the meeting after is so much more fucking bearable. everyone peeled out as best as they could. it was weird hugging my sobbing extended family members while i basically gave a "yeah yeah" and tried not to shoo them off. do not touch me. the saving grace of it all was hanging out alongside my dad and his friend since elementary school. it is entirely possible to laugh after a funeral. watching my dad and his friend try desperately not to curse inside a church sanctuary as they recounted boyhood stories made me have to choke back laughter behind my plastic cup of water. i really am his kid. nobody else was smiling. but i understand him and his friend. many things are beyond our control. so we must appreciate the experiences we have been given.

we shake hands with the pastor. the service was lovely, it really was, so i thank him with a double-clasped handshake. we pile into the truck, me being the shortest having to jump up and use the side rails.

my sister and i barter with my parents to go to a bar to cap it off. we eat pizza and mozzarella sticks. my dad and i enjoy the ambience of ozzy and metallica. my sister and i sleep in silence and wake up at 6am to go back home. we stop at a bp station for gas and coffee and then by the local liquor store.

she goes home. i go home. life has continued. my dad, upon going down the hill from the cove after the funeral, he commented, "i'm glad i'll never be obligated to go back to this fucking place again."

Today was going pretty good but then I get a call from my Mum and my Granddad who went in for a UTI yesterday which is like okay that’s nothing major right? Well the care home has phoned her and said he’s back in their care right now and basically his dialysis isn’t really working anymore and his kidneys are a lot worse and they’ve said to prepare for bad news. They said it could be tomorrow or 6 months from now there’s no way of knowing. But his kidneys are failing and yeah the dialysis is no longer enough.

My mum was already booking flights to go back out to Spain at the end of this month because they went out with my Uncle end of February but they had to finish up some paperwork that went wrong so were gonna go out in March. But I’ve asked if she can now book me a ticket on the flight too because usually I go out in October to see him but I don’t think he’ll have that long and I want to be able to see him even just once because I didn’t get that with my Grandma as this was during major lockdown that she got cancer and it broke me not being able to see her one last time.

When my other Granddad who came to live with us during the pandemic as he got sick. When he got ill I got to see him in the hospital the night before he died and honestly I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than not being there for the last moments with my Grandma because some people thought it might be better that I hadn’t seen her like that and could remember her as she was. But after going through both experiences I found it more comforting being able to be there with him in those moments than to not. I think both situations were very different though because of how the cancer affected her even she had said she was not wanting me to see her that way when we were planning to visit because it was on her mouth/jaw and it had gotten really swollen and she’d lost a lot of weight. But I saw my Granddad decline and that was tough but maybe that’s why it was comforting to be there in his last moments. Maybe they were right I hadn’t seen my Grandma since Covid so to then see her so deteriorated might’ve been more shocking than my Granddad because I was there with him throughout everything you know.

So I guess it is different but with my Granddad in Spain he’s been on dialysis for 8 years now and we’ve always gone into this knowing dialysis only works for so long and then that’s it so in a way I have had a long time to prepare myself for it like my other grandparents went from being so healthy to so sick overnight but my Granddad in Spain it was always clear he wasn’t healthy he had heart issues in his family he’d had a lot of strokes and then he went on dialysis and that was it we knew he had roughly 10 years to live and that was it. But honestly hearing it said out loud it’s still a shock like you think you have prepared yourself for it because you know it’s inevitable. I knew he’d lived longer than they expected because we found out that at his age turns out the dialysis wasn’t meant to last 10 years not even as long as it has so far but idk it was just a lot hearing it and after losing my granddad last year and my grandma the year before that it’s a lot of grief in a short amount of time and I feel like just as it’s starting to sting a little bit less when I see things that remind my of my Granddad around the house or when we are out and now I’m going to relive all of that again with my Granddad and it’s just a lot. And I know I just have to sit here and endure it because there’s no magic pill to take away and numb the pain of grief. It literally just is time. I have to just give it time and maybe eventually it’ll hurt less but fuck he’s the only grandparent I have left and we don’t really have any other close family. I haven’t even seen my cousins since I was a kid we’re not that close really. And my uncle on my dad’s side and my cousins on that side don’t talk to us because my dad and Uncle had a falling out because my Uncle was only caring about the inheritance and couldn’t be fucked to come visit my Granddad at all and did nothing to help care for him and it upset my Granddad a lot which upset my dad and they already had fallen out years back because he did a similar thing when my nan died literally came into my Granddads house after my nans funeral and took a bunch of stuff including an anniversary present my granddad had gotten her and a bunch of stuff that was really sentimental to him. Then they sold it all of and actually made him PAY to buy one of the items back that they stole out of his house. So yeah that’s a whole other issue though but it’s just when my Granddads gone that’ll be every grandparent gone and no other close relatives left and it’s just hard.

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Epilogue

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 4.1k

A/N: This will be Vanessa’s pov

Masterlist // Previous chapter //

9 years later

Name: Vanessa Tran-Cavill

Subject: English

Teacher: Mrs. Allen

Grade: 100/100 — Vanessa, you are such a talented writer. You raised the bar for every other essay I’m going to read in my entire career left as an English teacher. You have such a wonderful role model in your life. Please cherish your family for the rest of your life!

The one who taught me everything - an essay about Olivia Tran-Cavill, the greatest inspiration for me.

I was raised by the toughest woman alive. I know that a lot of kids say that about their mom, but allow me to explain why Olivia Tran-Cavill is the toughest woman I know in my life.

Her boyfriend left her when she told him she was pregnant with me, her own family (meaning her parents and her two brothers) practically disowned her, and on top of that she just started a job as a freshly minted veterinarian.

If I were in her shoes, I’d be terrified, struck by multiple breakdowns on a daily basis, but not my mom. She raised me all by herself, barely having a break or a moment of her own. I was her number one priority. She told me to be kind, to be honest and polite: personality traits that provide me with the best today and for all the days to come in the future.

There was only one thing that I desperately wanted and that was a family. I wanted a dad like the kids in my class. I wanted grandparents. I wanted aunts and uncles. I wanted to have little siblings, because I knew that I would be a great big sister.

Unfortunately that wasn’t in the stars for me and my mom told me that. It takes a brave woman to say to her young child: ‘Your real dad doesn’t want you. Your grandparents kicked me out the second they found out I was pregnant with you. Your uncles never spoke to me again.’

It hurt obviously. There were people walking around here that shared DNA with me, that were family, but they made it pretty clear that they didn’t want me nor my mother. To this day they still haven’t reached out and they honestly don’t know what they are missing out on. At least, that is what my mom always tells me.

But my mom always told me that family wasn’t all about sharing DNA, it was about finding people that you want in your life. You can choose who your family is.

Despite that wonderful piece of advice that I definitely took to heart, I continued to make her a drawing every single day. My mom and I inside our house and outside there is a man with a dog, waiting to be allowed into our life.

Waiting to become a dad.

My dad.

One day my mom was on call and had to go to the clinic at night. She took me with her and that’s the day we met Henry and his dog Kal. Little did we all know that at that exact moment, our lives drastically changed.

Henry was more of a dad in the first hour that I had met him, then my real dad was in my entire life. For the first time in life, I had a dad figure. A man who cared not only about me, but also about my mom.

Being with Henry never drastically changed my mom. She was still the bad ass mom I always had, but it did softened her up. It made her relaxed. Henry gave her what she deserved all those years of raising me by herself. Letting someone take care of her too. There is only so much a six year old could give back to a powerhouse like her mom, but there is so much more a man like Henry Cavill can give her.

He provided us with a family. A grandma, a granddad and four lovely uncles.

And for that I have to thank my mom. She allowed Henry into her life, thus into my life and gave us six amazing Cavill family members, who cared about us and loved us up to this day.

Now, I admire her every single day. The way she takes care of not only me, but also my three sisters, is something I feel like I can never live up to. Whenever some of us walk into the room, her face lights up and she drops everything to give us her full attention.

And for that I am so incredibly thankful. She taught me so much. How to love, how to catch more flies with honey than with vinegar and she taught me that it is okay to be scared, but that it should never stop you from pursuing what you want to achieve.

I know my mom was scared when she got pregnant and was dropped by all the people she thought she could trust and rely on, but it never stopped her from pursuing what she wanted: to be a great mother and an excellent veterinarian. Knowing that, I’m going to try to be the best version of myself, though I know damn well that I can never be as amazing as her.

For me, my mom is the most influential person in my life and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

≫≫≪≪

With my freshly graded essay, I walk towards my locker. This is such a great way to end the week. I worked my ass off on this essay and the fact that mrs. Allen gave me the full hundred out of hundred points is unbelievable. She never gives people higher than ninety points probably. I feel like I’m the first student in her entire career to score the highest grade possible.

‘There she is.’ I look up to see Trey walking up to me, already undoing his tie. He always tells me that he hates that thing with a passion and while I suggest he uses a clip on tie (like half the school does), he keeps on wearing the regular one. I think it’s so he can continue to bitch about it. ‘You’re going to Jimmy’s party tonight, right?’

I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, Trey, I can’t. I have plans with my family.’

‘The entire family?’ he asks, as he leans against the row of lockers besides mine.

‘Yes, the entire family.’

‘And there is absolutely no change at all that you can ditch them?’

I can’t stop my chuckle. Usually I go out on Friday, especially if Trey invites me, but right now I really can’t go. ‘It’s important,’ I say to him. I see him fake pouting, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Come on, don’t pout. Jimmy has parties every two weeks. I’ll be at the next one.’

Trey grins. ‘I’ll hold you to that, V. Tell your mom I said hi and also say that to your dad, because I’m afraid he’ll kick my ass next time he sees me. Oh, and say hi to your sisters, will you?’

A few weeks ago Trey came over to my place, because we were going to do algebra homework together (and because we wanted to spend time together). Dad was ready to embarrass the shit out of me (I think he has been waiting for this moment since he adopted me to be honest—he seemed to well prepared), but mom swooped right in and Trey felt instantly at ease. Ever since then, he asks me how she is doing when I see him at school.

I know it’s tough for Trey. He wasn’t raised with a mother, since she passed away during his birth, but her three brothers raised him. He loves them dearly and because of that, he can handle my dad’s antics just fine. However it’s nice for him to have a motherly figure in his life, since his uncles never dated (they would get along well with my uncles) and my mom is the right person for that.

After that algebra homework moment we had, he has been coming over a lot more often and just a few days ago, I saw him giving my mom a hug. When I asked her about it, she told me that he always likes it when he is here and it turns out, that he told her all about growing up with only his uncles and how she feels like a mom figure to him. I like how he is welcomed into my family. My sisters are absolutely smitten with him and they love it when I bring him over, since they wished I was a boy, so they could have a brother.

It’s always nice to know that your sisters love you for who you are.

‘You know, you can come over too,’ I say, not wanting Trey to leave. ‘If you want to of course.’

‘Are you sure?’ he asks, but he already has a telling smile on his face. ‘I just don’t want to intrude an important event.’

‘You won’t,’ I laugh. ‘It’s been ten years since my dad officially adopted me. We’re going to celebrate at my grandparents’ place. My uncles will be there, my aunt, nephews and my sisters.’

Trey smiles. ‘Well, if you invite me.’

I close my locker and say: ‘We are going to celebrate this whole weekend, but you can only stay today if you want to, so you won’t miss Jimmy’s party.’

‘I don’t really care about Jimmy’s party,’ Trey admits. ‘I only wanted to spend time with you.’

It’s obvious that we have a crush on each other, it’s just that I’m afraid of committing. He doesn’t seem to mind though, that pull my hand back when he wants to hold it and that we haven’t kissed, though we’ve been on a few dates.

‘So,’ Trey says as we walk out of the school, ‘your dad adopted you ten years ago.’

I nod. ‘Yeah, he made me an official Cavill from that day. If I’m being completely honest, I never thought I’d have a dad. I always thought that it was going to be me, my mom and my pleads for a dad. For such a long time I thought it was enough, though deep down I wanted a dad, but sometimes it’s just not meant for everyone, right?’

Trey nods. ‘Right.’

‘I still remember the day we met him and Kal,’ I say. ‘And I just knew that I wanted that man as my father. I was six and though I need saw my mom with a man, I just knew that they were meant for each other, you know. We were standing around the examination table, because Kal was sick and I thought to myself that this was the man that not only I wanted in my life, but my mom needed as well.’

Trey’s fingers brush against mine and I hold onto his hand, for the first time in the weeks that we are circling around each other.

I think back to the times where it was just my mom and I. She was so strong for all those years of raising me, telling me the painful truth about my biological dad, my grandparents and uncles from her side of the family, arranging all different sorts of shifts at the animal clinic and bringing me to work when necessary.

I admire my mother and the way she carefully picked out a man that was worthy of becoming my dad, of adopting me and giving me his last name. I had been Vanessa Tran for so many years, but becoming Vanessa Tran-Cavill, had been such a blessing and for the first time in seven years, I had a dad, someone who cared about me.

Someone who loved me.

And right now, I have seen how much he loved my mom, me and my sisters. I admired the way dad took care of us, while still having an acting career. He played in seven movies since I met him and five of those were being filmed here in the UK, since he didn’t want to leave us for too long.

He posts about us on Instagram sometimes, but always disables the comments. A lot of people know that I’m his daughter, but they mostly find out when we’ve known each other for a while.

Trey and I get out of the bus, but I stop him, before we walk off to my grandparents’ house. ‘I just want to prepare you. I have four nosey uncles and a granddad who just starts to talk, not knowing when to stop.’

‘It’s nothing I can’t handle,’ he laughs. ‘Remember, I grew up with three uncles and their friends. This will be peanuts.’

I smile. ‘Yeah, you’re right.’ I squeeze his hand. ‘Trey, before we go into the backyard, I have to admit something.’

‘I like you too,’ he says. ‘And I don’t mind taking it slow.’

My eyes widen. ‘How did you know I was going to say that?’

‘You’re predictable, Tran.’ Trey smiles and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s honestly no big deal. I really like you and your family and though I feel comfortable enough to go at my pace, I don’t want to force you into stuff.’ He gives me a squeeze back in my hand. ‘Your pace and no one else’s.’ He pulls me to him and wraps me up in a tight hug. I feel his chin on top of my head and I let out a sigh, before I close my eyes, nuzzling my face in his chest. This feels nice, I could get used to this.

I pull back a little, to carefully press a kiss on his jaw. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ I say, pulling him with me to the gate at the back of the yard. Together we walk into the backyard and I see everyone is already there. Uncles Piers, Niki and Charlie are standing near the barbecue, as my nine year old sister Elodie is poking Charlie in his sides. Belle has wrapped her arms around uncle Simon’s neck, giving him tons of kisses. Belle’s two year old son Hugh is trying to kick the ball, but he misses and falls flat on his bum. He waddles over to Belle, who is currently expecting another boy in four months.

My five year old sisters Chloe and Heather are the first to notice me. ‘Vanessa!’ they scream in unison, rushing towards me and wrapping their arms around my waist. ‘We missed you.’

‘I missed you guys too,’ I chuckle.

‘And you brought Trey!’ Chloe notices, jumping in his arms. ‘You are staying here for the barbecue?’

‘Of course,’ Trey says with a smile. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, munchkin.’

Everyone looks up and gives me hugs and introduce themselves to Trey if they haven’t met him already. Grandpa Colin gives me a big hug and slips fifty pounds not only in my hand, but also in Trey’s hand. ‘So you can take her out on a date, young man,’ he tells Trey.

When we walk over to my parents, Trey says: ‘Damn, I get fifty pounds for showing up here. Should I tell your grandad when my birthday is?’

‘Don’t,’ I say sternly, pinching his side.

Kal licks my hand and I scratch him on top of his head. He is not fat anymore (as if my mother would allow that). He is also not as active as he used to be when I met him, but he is still the most loyal and biggest sweetheart in the world, always taking care of me and my sisters.

My mom holds out her arms and Trey doesn’t hesitate for a minute to be engulfed in her arms. Dad wraps his arms around my waist and bumps his nose against my cheek. Elodie, Chloe and Heather often wonder why we do that, but it’s our thing and it’ll always be our thing. ‘There you are, sunshine,’ he says.

‘It’s a special day today,’ I say. ‘You have any regrets?’

He scoffs. ‘Are you kidding me? As if I could have regrets.’

‘You still have the receipt?’

He laughs. ‘Like I would ever use that.’ He gives me a kiss on my cheek and says: ‘You brought your boyfriend with you, I see.’

Normally I’d protest against his antics, but now… I actually don’t mind. I quite like it actually. I like the idea of Trey being my boyfriend. ‘Well, yeah.’

Dad gives me a big kiss, before he places me on my feet again. Trey wipes his hands clean on his jeans, before he extends his hand to my dad. I don’t quite know what happens after that, because mom pulls me into a hug. Though I’m seventeen now and my mom is reaching the forty already, she barely aged.

It’s admirable, really. After she gave birth to Elodie and she lost that much blood, it was the scariest experience in my life. I thought, with the way everyone was looking at each other when dad called, my mom would die. It took her six months to recover and I helped out the best I could, but I knew that asking for another sibling too soon, wouldn’t help. Four years after she had Elodie, she became pregnant with twins and after that she did not want more kids. Ideally she wanted three, I remember her saying that to dad, but now she had four and though she loved it, it was enough.

‘How was school?’ mom asks.

‘It was great. I got my English essay back.’

‘Oh really? How did you do?’

‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’

Mom tilts her head when she looks at Henry and Trey, who seem to hit it off actually. ‘You chose a good one,’ she tells me. ‘So proud of you, sweetheart.’ Mom wraps her arm around my waist and gives me a kiss. ‘Oh no, mom!’ she yells to grandma Marianne. ‘Wait, don’t carry everything.’ Mom rushes off to the kitchen and I can’t hide my smile.

I’m happy that all these people are my family. From the looks of Trey, he actually is a bit nervous. I walk up to him and my dad and wrap my arm around his hips. He is tense, but wraps his arm around my shoulders. ‘You’re not bugging him, are you, dad?’

‘No, of course not,’ he says, but I cock my eyebrow, causing him to say: ‘Just asking him what he will do with that fifty pound your grandpa gave him.’

Of course my dad noticed that.

He excuses himself, walking up to the barbecue, lifting up Elodie in the process. I look up at Trey and I ask: ‘I thought you said this would be peanuts?’

‘It will be peanuts,’ he tells me. ‘Just have to warm up a bit.’ He smiles, pearly white teeth framed by his full lips. ‘This definitely helps.’

‘Okay, love birds,’ uncle Niki yells, ‘come on. We’re getting ready to eat.’

I feel a blush creep up on my cheeks, but despite that, I still chuckle. He laces his fingers through mine, as we walk to the big table in the backyard under the parasol. ‘I just want to say one thing,’ grandma Marianne says, ‘and that is that I want to thank my son for overfeeding his dog, so he met the greatest veterinarian of all times, who—together with her oldest daughter—brought so much joy and happiness into the family.’

‘Mom, it has been ten years!’ dad says. ‘Please, let it go. I’m not overfeeding Kal anymore.’

It has been an ongoing joke, every time my dad gives Kal a little snack, at least one of the entire Cavill Clan says something along the lines of that we have to hide the other snacks.

‘But anyways,’ grandma says, ‘I am so happy that now we are this big and happy family. It’s all I really wanted.’

Everyone takes a deep breath, because we all realize that it could’ve gone so differently. I clear my throat and say: ‘I got my English essay back and got myself a hundred out of a hundred points.’

‘Shut up!’ uncle Piers says. ‘You got a perfect score? When was the last time something like that happened with us?’

‘None of you boys ever got a perfect score,’ grandpa Colin says. He sometimes can’t remember how to use the remote, what my sisters or my name is, but this he knows.

‘Anyways,’ I say, ‘it does have something to do with what happened ten years ago. I mean, becoming officially a Cavill has been the greatest thing ever. I watched my life do a complete one eighty and though I have to thank my dad for that, there is one woman who absolutely changed my life and is such a wonderful role model for not only me, but also my sisters, that I decided to write my essay about my mom.’

Mom’s eyes widen, before she scrunches up her nose. ‘Why?’

This is such a typical reaction from her, so I cannot stop my laugh. ‘Because mom, you are amazing. Everything that I have, started with you. Everything I understand, I do, I think about, is because of the way you took care of me and raised me. I know that I tell you this a lot, but mom, I love you so so much and everything you did for me, it’s so admirable. I owe so much to you.’

Mom clears her throat. ‘Oh sweetie,’ she mumbles. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

‘You did so well, mom,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so lucky to have been raised by you.’

She grabs my hand and gives me a loving squeeze. ‘Sweetheart, could you come with me for a second?’

The two of us walk inside of the house, as we hear conversation strike up behind us. The second we are out of sight, she wraps her arms around me. This is what she always does, not wanting to cry in front of the other Cavills, always going to a secluded place. ‘I love you, Vanessa,’ she whispers. ‘I think I’ve done a pretty good job with you.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘You did an excellent job, mom. You are honestly the biggest power house I’ve ever met.’

‘Could you imagine what would’ve happened if Belle was able to baby sit you?’ mom asks. ‘Because you, my love, charmed yourself a way into your father’s heart.’

I chuckle. ‘I kinda did, didn’t I?’

Mom smiles, as she holds tightly onto my hands. ‘I know you always thank me for giving you the family you always wanted, but remember: if you weren’t so instantly in love with your dad, I don’t know if I had given it a shot to be honest.’

That is such a weird thought, I think to myself. I always stop myself when I want to think about the ‘what ifs’ and my entire family never really brought it up. Maybe when I was younger, but never with me. But what if indeed I were to stay over at Belle’s place, I would’ve never known that Henry was there probably. Imagine the life that we would’ve had. Maybe I had given my biological father Wesley a chance and then I didn’t have my three wonderful sisters.

‘What are you two doing here? Poor Trey is being questioned by Niki, Charlie and grandpa and the old man is not holding back.’ My dad walks in and though he has reached the ripe age of forty eight, he is still the tall and bulked up man that I met in the examination room. He is still the man that loved me like I was his own.

‘Just thanking my daughter for being such a lovely girl, who charmed her way into your heart.’

‘Oh, you sure did,’ dad says with a smile. ‘My lovely sunshine, I love you so much and I can’t believe it’s been more than ten years since I met you and your mom.’ He wraps his arms around us and says: ‘Though I still feel the fear of Kal vomiting on the carpet with blood, I am so grateful that you picked up and the other clinics didn’t.’ He presses a kiss on my mom’s forehead.

‘Dad, when did you realize you were in love with mom?’

‘Well, I told myself that I shouldn’t have a crush on someone that I barely knew,’ dad says, ‘but I can tell you that deep down in my heart I knew that this beautiful woman stole my heart the second she said the seven words that I’ll never forget. Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat.’

≫≫≪≪

Bonus instagram posts:

Elodie and Vanessa

Elodie with Olivia

Pregnant with twins!

Pre teen Vanessa showing Henry that he is an actual boomer

Chloe and Heather

Vanessa as a teenager

Elodie as a teenager

Chloe and Heather as teenagers

A/N: soooo this is the end of this wonderful story, though I wish this would go on forever. Thank you so much to all the people who have been reading this, leaving lovely comments. Thanks to this story I gained so many new followers. I never expected it to blow up like this haha. Not to self promote but will do anyway, but please check out my other works if you haven’t already (and if you want to of course, I’m not going to force you to read my other fics) and of course I’ll be back with other fun projects, that I obviously will announce like usual 🤗

I’ve talked before about how holiday calls are the only times granny or granddad let their guard down and drop information about their lives. probably because it’s short and there’s no eye contact. Well today’s Mum’s birthday (aka half-christmas) so she got a call from Granddad yesterday and he was talking about the local bomb shelter which segued into...

His dad was slightly too old to fight during the war so he was an air-raid warden, he’d go door to door and check that everyone evacuated. Gdad’s memories of the war are of a packed house as most of the extended family moved in and playing with the tin helmets for bomb protection (he was 6-8 for the bombings). His dad once evacuated a family who had a bomb land in their backyard, it landed in sand so didn’t go off and they hadn’t even noticed. Uncle Hector (who knows where in the family tree, they’re Joneses from south wales and manchester- that’s the brit equivalent of looking for a john smith in virginia) had a shell come through his ceiling and it was wedged there... so he got a stool and a bucket, put the bomb in the bucket then threw it as far as he could out of the window. Mum and I thought that was the exactly the kind of “stupid when in danger” thing we’d also do.

While I was joking and commiserating with mum with about how how the previous generation insisted on living in the present only to the point where all we talked about was the weather, their gardens and the best motorways to take (seriously. hours spent over maps and we find out from a stranger’s book that gdad’s RAF mascot was a bear, a real life bear that lived with them!) and granddad’s the only one who ever was willing to talk politics (proud leftie like us). I joked about how granny got furious and shut me down so hard when I asked who she’d voted for when I was staying with her at 16 and Mum goes

“Oh... she’s always voted right”

“Hwhat? How? she’s a community activist! how you even reconcile the two?”

“She’s got her rigidness, from her childhood¤, you know what i mean”

“Oh wow, she votes tory? we’re going to have to disown her”

“Yup, I know I know” *shakes her head and sighs*

“Wait, were they still together when Thatcher° got elected?”

*calculates on her fingers* “Noooo and besides they never talked politics, never.”

"I wouldn’t know how to talk around such a big ideological difference”

“Me neither!” *looks at me with relief*

¤Granny and her 9 siblings were raised in a authoritarian christian cult.

°Granddad like most lefty northerners turns feral when the subject of Thatcher comes up. You know when cats get all huge and hissy? That but a very polite well spoken man just radiating with pain and anger.

So today we learned we have a relative called Hector who survived a bombing by throwing it out the window (iconic dumbassery!) and granny is tory scum who also advocates for the NHS, the deaf and the elderly. I mean I’ve always known there was a massive cognitive dissonance going on, she’s really ableist and has that girlboss misogyny and a love-hate relationship with religion. That might explain why the party line is still that my cousin’s buying a house with his “roommate”. 🤣

Survey #329

“i keep it all inside because i know that man is everything but kind”

What is the best thing about your life right now? Uhhhhh... I guess from a realistic standpoint, my partial hospitalization program. I'm learning very important coping skills and have some social interaction almost every day. How was your second serious relationship different from your first? Did you approach relationships differently with some experience under your belt? My first serious relationship was made deeper than what was safe because I was 100% obsessed with him; meanwhile, with Sara, I feel I loved her in a wiser way and with a sense of self still present. I was definitely more hesitant to "let" myself fall in love again, though, and was very insecure at the start. Whose death affected you the most? My dog's, Teddy. What was the best time you’ve had with a complete stranger? I don't exactly make a habit of hanging out with complete strangers... Who has seen you at your absolute worst? How did your relationship change afterwards? Mom, Jason, Girt, and Colleen, probably. Girt showed up at the ER after my overdose (I was a dramatic fuck and wrote a suicide note on Facebook so I didn't just... go without telling some people things I definitely wanted to), and that's when my crush on him really kicked into gear again. He was and is just always there for me through everything. For Jason, I am quiiiiiiiite sure seeing me have an absolute catatonic breakdown the night of the breakup just pushed him away more. I probably looked crazy. Colleen also showed up at the ER after my suicide attempt, and it brought us closer. Then there's Mom, who's, you know, my mom, and my darkest times have always grown our incredible bond, too, because she would never fail to be there for me. What’s your favorite planet? Saturn is dope. What’s your favorite pasta dish? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs. What color do you really want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, light/creamsicle orange, and silver, but there are more. What’s your favorite eye color? Sapphire blue or emerald green. What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? Um, I don't break into places. What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Sara gets super squeaky, bouncy, and just in general wordlessly excited at reptile shows. Going with her to one is one of my favorite memories, mostly just by watching her. Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Have I ever been (awake) with friends past 3AM...? Idk. Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it! Not a coffee gal. Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Sara. (: When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Now THERE'S a fuckin question. I don't have the slightest idea. What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today? Thunderstorms; definitely not. Have you ever been to a Pride festival? No, but I'd love to. How open are you with your parents? I don't tell everything to my dad (though I know I could), but I'm an open book with Mom. Is there anything you’re more open about on the internet (such as on LiveJournal) than you would be in “real life”? I guess my sexual history. I'm just in general pretty open online. What is the most petty thing you’ve ever done? Oh, I'm CERTAIN it involves Jason after the breakup, but I don't know the "most"... What is the longest you’d be willing to wait to have sex in a new relationship? I myself don't want to until we're clearly serious and long-term by that point, and I know for a fact they're in love with me like I am them. I don't care how long they want to wait, though. I said in a previous survey that sex just... isn't that important to me. It's not my most cherished form of intimacy. Who has had the most positive effect on your life? My mama. Are there any relatives that you are not on speaking terms with? What happened? Most of the family doesn't talk to my aunt's literally psychotic, manipulative fuck of an ex-husband. I don't feel like it's my business to share exactly what happened, but yeah, fuck him with a chainsaw. :^) Who was the last person to ask you to hang out? Did you agree to hang out with them? It was more like an open invitation to all of her friends, but I guess you could say Summer. I did. I honestly wanna hang out again. Have you ever had to take a stool or urine test? Why did you have to do this? Urine ones, yes: to 1.) test for UTIs and 2.) ensure I wasn't pregnant before surgery. Is there a food that you eat basically every day? What food is that? Not every day, no. Can you remember the first video game you ever played? What about your first video gaming system? I don't. It was probably something with few controls, like this Barbie horse riding game my sisters and I loved, or an Elmo game that we had on a demo disc. I think you had to follow a path on a pogo stick picking up letters? We had a PS1 when I was born, so that was my first. The last video game you played - did you play alone or with someone else? By "video," I'm going to assume you're not including the computer, in which case I think it was The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon, which I was playing alone. It does have a two-player option though that I wanna do one day. The controls are definitely meant for two people. If there is a disc in your computer, what disc is it? There is no disc. Do you shut down your computer every time after you use it, or do you leave it on? I always leave it on... Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Hm, I don't believe so. Describe the last shirt you saw that you really liked. Where did you see it? It was definitely some sort of graphic tee on Facebook, I'm sure. It was something with an opossum design and a short phrase. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? The most recent vet visit was when we got Roman neutered. Do you have any bug bites on you right now? If so, where? No. When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook? When I DID fish, yeah. Not because I was afraid to touch the fish, but because I was afraid of nicking myself with the inevitably dirty hook. Did you go to daycare when you were little? Only very briefly; my incredible separation anxiety from my mom made it extremely difficult. She very quickly chose our neighbors as my and my sisters' babysitters. I could handle that because I loved "Uncle Donny," the granddad of the family, and I could see my house from their front door. He was/is (idk if he's still alive) a wonderful man. Do you know what you’d have been named had you been born the opposite sex? No. Would you ever visit a nude beach? NOOOOOOOO THANK YOU. Who was the last person you dreamt about? I don't remember. Where is your favorite place to be kissed other than the usual place? Don't touch my neck if you don't have free time lmaooo. What is your favorite memory with one of your grandparents? I'm going to be completely honest: I have none that are exceptionally important to me. I only knew one grandmother most of my life, and we had a turbulent relationship. Would you date someone who has cheated in their previous relationships? Naaaaah son. What was the most drastic change you made to your appearance? Chopping 8+ inches of hair off. Is there anything you hope your significant other/future significant other never finds out about you? No. I don't want to keep secrets from them above all others. What are most of your Facebook posts about? If you're talking things I actually compose myself and not share, probably pictures of my pets, haha. Or small statements regarding political issues or mental health. What’s your favorite part of the song that you’re listening to? The beat. Who was the last person you got into a small argument with? Probably my mom, idk. How warm do you like your showers/baths to be? Pretty hot. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained... and I'd rather not share. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue, but it's old. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? The neighbors at my childhood home had two wonderful rottweilers, but one day they got loose and killed at least one of our kittens. It died in my hands. Mom was fucking livid and sobbing. Besides this occasion though, we got along with them. How much alone time is too much for you before you start going crazy and want to be around people? It depends on the day, really, and how entertained I am in my alone time. Generally, one day of total isolation (from people, anyway) is enough for me to want my mom's company at least or to be texting Sara. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? A pizza roll burned my tongue just a tad. Honestly, are you shallow? Not at all. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? S N A K E S ! ! ! I could LIVE on the Morph Market website and "window shop." I love planning out the next morph I'm most interested in adopting. If you have/had any facial piercings, what side are they on? Any reason you chose that side? If you don’t have any, if you had to get a facial piercing what would it be and what side would it be on? I have a vertical labret on my lower lip that goes directly down the center of my face. I chose it because I love the symmetry. I've had my right nostril pierced twice, just because I preferred that side for whatever reason. What, would you say, is your sexiest/most provocative article of clothing? I don't own anything like that. I have zero interest in showing off my body. Do/did you have attendance problems in school? I was notoriously tardy for the first class of the day a lot because I was an absolute beast to drag out of bed all the way up to college. Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? Mom did. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Where the Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf is a strong one. I played it again and again the day Teddy was put down, even before we went to go euthanize him. It was my inspiration to one day spread his ashes at Yellowstone in wolf territory. As much as I'd love to keep his ashes forever, like, what happens after I die? And my sisters? Eventually, that container will lose meaning and probably be discarded, so I want to return him to nature. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? No close ones. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? Idk. Does your Mom eat meat? Yeah. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? THICK. Thin crust is an utter disappointment. Do you have any friends with the same name as you? No. Who has the prettiest middle name you know? Ha, I mention Alon a lot when it comes to beauty... I can't remember what it is, but I do know hers wins. Do you prefer it when it gets darker earlier? No. It makes me go to bed earlier. Can you touch​ your nose with your tongue?​​ No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? No. Are there any shows that your friends seem to be obsessed with, but that you just don’t get? Oh, loads. How old was the last child that you spoke to? She's six. What’s a song that makes you feel happy? "Pretty Woman" by Van Halen, for one. How far in advance do you prefer to plan? It depends, but generally kinda far. Do you always smile for pictures? With other people, yes. Some selfies, no, but usually. What are you most excited about right now? my MOTHERFUCKIN tattoo appointment in MAY!!!!!!!!!!! Do you prefer the aisle, middle, or window seat on a plane? Window seat, zero doubts. Where would you like to volunteer? I wanna help at an animal rehab. What was the last thing you ate? A strawberry and grain granola bar thing. How do you find new music? Usually YouTube recommendations. What’s your favorite city? I don't have one. What makes your bedroom special to you and what is your favorite part about it? It's a total nests of my various interests. My favorite part is my meerkat collection. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? God no. I haven't shaved my legs since October lmao. Would you get married if you could right now? Definitely not right now. I don't have a job or my own place. What is your favorite type of jewelry (i.e. bracelets, necklaces, etc.)? Chokers. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was wholeheartedly in love with him. What was the shittiest hotel you’ve ever stayed at and why? I've never stayed in a bad one, to my recollection. Have you ever gone on a boat and been sick the whole time? No. Have you ever kept something from the wild as a pet? A turtle for a little while, yes. Don't do that. Ever win first place for something? Yeah, a few things. What was the last thing you fell off of? Idk. Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? No. What’s the most confusing book you ever read? The style in which Johnny Got His Gun is written is very confusing, but you adapt to understand it. Jumping back and forth from the past to the present can give ya some metaphorical whiplash. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No. Has anyone ever called your personality dull? Do you agree with them? No. Have you ever personally witnessed a drug deal before? Possibly. Ever have an ultrasound performed on you? What was it for? Yes, for my liver. I can't remember what they were checking for, but I was fine. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Colleen's house, yes. Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? Nope; got no interest. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah, not for me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? Only if it's cool out, in which case yeah. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Not anymore. I just think about the terrified animals (wild and pets alike) and traumatized veterans. Do you enjoy tanning? Not at all. Which of the seven deadly sins do you commit the most? Sloth. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Yeah. Creepy fuckers. How long was your first relationship? I actually don't remember how long Aaron and I were together... other than it was just a few months. Who was the first person to break your heart? My dad, generally speaking. Romantically, Jason. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? I don’t know. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yeah. What did the last key you used go to? The car's trunk. Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly? I honestly do wish I remembered my "first time" because that's a pretty big deal to me. What’s your biggest priority right now? My mental health. If you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself? I've done that numerous times, and given there was nothing good on the TV ever, I just slept time away or read. Since every time I was suicidal, there were very, very few things you were allowed to have. Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet? EW no. Are your hands unsteady? Yes; I have what's called an essential tremor in both. Are your legs long or short? They're proportional to my body. Is there a bookshelf in your room? No. Do you own a robe? What color is it? No. Who’s the last person you smoked weed with? I've never done it. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? No. Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? Yeah, my sisters in the past. Is there anything you need to talk about with someone? No. Who was the last person who cried around you? My mom. Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler. What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Korn. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Maybe snakebites. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? Nah. I only ever really did once or twice when I had snake eyes. Honestly, have you ever purchased something, worn it, and then returned it? Possibly? If you could have your own house anywhere in the world, where would it be? In the mountains in a nicely wooded area with a waterfall close by. It'd be nice to have a small stream or pond too to sit or swim in. If you could create a holiday - what would it be? I wish the legalization of gay marriage in America was a legitimate holiday. Are you shy about singing in front of people? OHHHHH YES. Do you own a robe? Do you sleep with a sleep mask? No.

The Holiday Special

“I don’t like being away from our home after dark,” Michael said stubbornly, sitting in the passenger seat, “Your holiday is tomorrow, not tonight.”

“It’s…” Adam trailed off, laughing, “It’s not my holiday, Mike. And it’s Christmas Eve, we’ll spend tomorrow together.”

“Your family doesn’t trust me,” Michael commented, “Or like me for that matter. Your grandfather is very suspicious of me and thinks I had something to do with your ‘kidnapping’,” he grumbled, resting his head on the window, “I never wished for any of this to happen to you, Adam, and for them to think that I did-”

“Whoa,” Adam said, glancing in the mirror before signaling, pulling off to the side of the road and putting the car in park. He turned to Michael, “Mike, I know you never wanted anything to happen to me.”

Michael stared at him.

“I wouldn’t be with you if you did,” Adam took his hand, “I wouldn’t want to wake up every single day next to you if you did.”

Michael swallowed, looking down at their linked hands for a moment, like he was still fascinated by it after being together for months. He quickly checked his coat pockets with his free hand, pulling out a small box, “I know this isn’t technically for today according to your traditions but it’s important to me that you have it now. It feels right.”

Adam smiled weakly, “I left yours at home, Mike.”

“I want you to have this now,” Michael told him, pulling his hand away, “It’s very important to me that you have this. It could help you in a situation where I would not be there o-or if you couldn’t find me.”

Adam blinked in shock at the serious tone of his voice, “Nothing is gonna happen, Mike.”

Michael just stared at him for a moment before opening the box.

Adam tilted his head, staring at the small vial attached to a chain, “A glowstick?”

Michael rolled his eyes, an oddly human thing to do, before handing it to him, putting it in his palm.

Adam blinked in shock at the familiar, warm feeling, “Oh...Michael, is this…?” he trailed off.

“A vial of my Grace, yes,” Michael explained, “If I were to ever disappear, you could use this to track me. There’s a lot of other...things we should discuss about it, but we are going to be late,” he quickly took the necklace from Adam’s hand, helping him put it on, “It will always keep me close to your heart.”

Adam grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss.

Michael blinked in surprise before melting into the kiss. He fumbled slightly for Adam’s seatbelt, only to be stopped by his hand on his.

“We can’t be late,” Adam told him quietly, “We have all the time in the world for that later.”

Michael let out a sigh before nodding in agreement, sitting back in his seat. He quickly grabbed Adam’s hand, not saying a word as they sat in comfortable silence.

                                                               ...........…

“Why are we only here just to leave again?” Michael huffed, “It is a waste of time. I could easily teleport us.”

“We’re all going to the tree ceremony together,” Adam laughed quietly, “And then coming back here for cookies and we’re gonna watch a Charlie Brown Christmas…”

Michael just continued to be huffy about it, crossing his arms, “It is a waste of time.”

“Like I said, Mike, all the time in the world,” Adam rubbed his arm before getting out of the car.

Michael sighed before getting out of the car as well, following after Adam quickly. He smiled a little when Adam took his hand and walked up on the porch of the older looking big house with him.

Michael went to knock on the door but Adam simply opened it, walking inside and pulling Michael along with him.

“Nan?” Adam called, “We’re here!”

“Right on time,” Adam’s grandmother, Katherine, laughed as she walked out, “At least one of my grandkids can manage to show up on time.”

Michael watched as she pulled Adam into a tight hug and blinked in shock when she pulled him into one right after.

“It’s good to see you two,” Katherine said, “C’mon in, you’re going to catch a cold out there,” she said quickly, closing the door behind them, “Go on in the living room, we’re still waiting on Keith and the kids.”

“C’mon, Mike,” Adam said softly, pulling him into the living room and smiling, “Oh, Mr. They-Don’t-Like-Me.”

Michael huffed, crossing his arms and sitting beside him on the couch. He’d never had time to dwell on human comforts until he met Adam. But sitting in a warm house in front of a fireplace in a very cozy living room with Adam sitting so close their legs touched? That was what comfort felt like to Michael.

“They know we are together,” Michael said softly.

“I think they always kind of assumed,” Adam laughed quietly, “Pretty sure it was just you and me that weren’t aware we were dating before we were, Mike,” he said, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder.

“I have learned that it isn’t normal for friends to sleep together every night,” Michael said softly.

“Felt right though,” Adam whispered.

“Yes,” Michael agreed softly, linking their hands again, “It did.”

The archangel was a little frustrated when Adam moved over as soon as his grandfather came into the room, but didn’t comment on it. Humans were odd...they loved to show affection -in Adam’s case, at least- but not in front of people they knew...especially elder relatives.

“Good to see at least someone made it on time,” James grunted, sitting back down, “I swear, ever since…” he trailed off, “Well, no one’s been showin’ up to anything ‘til now. Biggest turnout we’ve had was on Thanksgiving and it’s ‘cause you came back.”

Adam smiled softly, “You’re gonna make people think I’m your favorite, granddad.”

“Well, you showed up on time!” James gestured around wildly, “Already doin’ better than your uncle.”

Adam just smiled softly, going silent.

“So, Mike, what do you do for a living?” James asked, causing Adam to choke on the air he was breathing.

Michael stared at him, confusion written all over his face.

“Mike is between jobs,” Adam said quickly, rubbing Michael’s arm.

“Did you…” James trailed off, clearing his throat, “Did you escape with Adam?”

“Granddad-” Adam started.

“Yes,” Michael nodded, “We escaped together.”

“Well,” James told him, “Thank you, Michael...you got Adam back to us.”

Michael stared at him for a moment before clearing his throat, “Excuse me,” he said, getting up and walking out of the room as quickly as possible. 

He knew Adam would follow him, a part of him hoped he wouldn’t, but he knew him too well at this point.

Michael shoved his hands in his pockets, staring off the porch. Adam’s grandparents didn’t even live that far and they lived on a small farm. 

It was so peaceful.

“Hey, you okay?” Adam asked quickly, struggling to get his coat on as he walked out. 

“Yes, I…” Michael trailed off and sighed, looking up at the stars.

“Words, Mike,” Adam encouraged softly.

Michael swallowed, “I was uncomfortable when your grandfather insinuated that I got you back to them when I was the reason you were gone in the first place.”

“God was the reason I was gone, not you,” Adam sighed, grabbing his hand, “You just did what your father said. I don’t blame you, I blame him.”

Michael stared down at him with a sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t believe me,” Adam said softly.

“I don’t,” Michael shook his head, “I blame myself. I try to see things your way but I do not.”

“I love you, Michael...nothing about what happened is going to change that,” Adam said, holding on his arm and looking out at the farm as well, “Let’s go inside, it’s cold.”

Michael just nodded, putting his arm around Adam as they walked back inside.

                                                              ...........…

“Adam!” Joy yelled happily as Adam walked in hand-in-hand with Michael to Windom’s little town square. They ran up, Martin following close behind with identical grins on their faces.

“Watch it, bro, Erick is around and wants a story,” Martin added before they could even say hello.

“Erick?” Michael asked seriously.

“He’s a reporter for our town’s paper,” Adam explained, rolling his eyes, “We went to high school with him.”

“He’s a little asshole is what he is,” Ryka said, walking up with her hands stuffed in her pockets and Dawson following close behind, “He just made a professional career after being a gossip in high school,” she scoffed.

“Is he a threat?” Michael asked seriously.

Adam elbowed him, “He’s just a jerk, Mike, don’t get all...you,” he said quietly, but there was a fond smile on his face.

“I haven’t seen this thing light up in ten years,” Dawson commented, looking up at the huge, unlit tree, “Pretty sure the last time I saw it was when all of us were together.”

Adam’s lips twitched, like he wanted to smile but he didn’t. He stared at Dawson for another moment before tearing his eyes away, looking up at the tree, “I swear, they find a bigger one every year,” he said, changing the subject.

Michael watched Adam, not saying anything.

“Joy said that you were trying to find Jared,” Dawson said suddenly, looking at Michael, “Any luck?”

“No,” Michael said simply, not taking his eyes away from Adam despite the feeling of guilt in his chest for not telling Adam and his friends about the fate of their friend.

“Good detective you got there,” Dawson snorted, “Don’t worry, me and Ryka are already looking into it.”

Michael went to say something, but was cut off by someone calling out “Adam Milligan!”

“Tried to warn you,” Martin chuckled, stepping aside as who only Michael could assume was Erick ran over.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” Erick explained, “I talked to your grandparents, have they not been forwarding my messages?”

Adam shrugged, “Sorry, must have missed the memo,” he said, smiling weakly, holding onto Michael’s arm. 

“And who is this?” Erick asked.

“Off the record, this is Michael,” Adam smiled, though there was a little bit of sarcasm in his tone.

“Could we possibly talk on the record?” Erick asked, “It’s a big story for our little town, y’know…would be nice to get the big scoop.”

“There is no scoop, I’m back now,” Adam said, shrugging, “There’s no story to tell.”

“You look the same,” Erick commented.

“Good genes,” Adam said simply, gripping Michael’s arm a little tighter.

Michael could sense the anxiety starting to radiate off of his former vessel, he knew it was either the questions or the amount of people, he wasn’t sure which was making it worse.

He went to say something, but Adam’s grandmother did before he could.

“I thought we told you to beat it,” Katherine snapped, practically shoving Adam and Michael behind her shorter figure, but Michael swore she had enough fury to even scare him.

Erick put his hands up in surrender, “I was just seeing if he had gotten my message, Kat, calm down,” he said, taking a step back.

Katherine just continued to glare until Erick just sighed, nodding, and walking away.

“I admire your grandmother’s fury,” Michael said quietly to Adam, causing him to laugh and bury his face in his shoulder.

                                                              ...........…

“I will say,” Michael said softly, looking up at the now-lit tree before looking around at the crowd, “Your tiny town is nice, for a bunch of humans. It is nice they found something to do with their brief existence.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly, holding Michael’s gloved hand with his own as they walked back to their truck.

“I’ve always enjoyed observing human holidays,” Michael explained, “But I never actually took part in celebration before.”

Adam smiled slightly, “Not even Michaelmas?”

Michael smiled softly, “While I do appreciate your people celebrating me...no.”

“Well, next year we’re just gonna have to celebrate our birthdays together,” Adam said, linking their arms and pulling him close.

“I do not have a birthday,” Michael huffed.

“We’ll just have to go to the next closest thing then,” Adam smiled, “Just so happens to be my birthday as well.”

Michael scoffed, “That is not a coincidence, you were meant to be my vessel. Originally that was intended to be your brother’s birthday, but that date was pushed up in hopes of starting the apocalypse sooner.”

Adam rolled his eyes, “Well, tough luck, buddy, I’m your boyfriend now.”

“That is not tough luck,” Michael said, leaning down and pressing his lips against his.

                                                         ...........…

“Eat your food, Mike,” Adam whispered encouragingly as they sat at the dinner table.

“I enjoy pizza,” Michael whispered back, looking down at the plate.

“I know, but you can try new things too,” Adam bumped his shoulder, “Just try it and if you don’t like it you don’t have to eat it.”

“Can we get pizza after?” Michael huffed.

Adam just pressed a soft kiss to his jaw line, patting his leg as he continued eating.

“So, Michael,” Keith said suddenly, “What do you do for a living? I feel like you and Addy are so close and we know nothing about you.”

“I recently acquired a job at the shipping yard,” Michael said before taking a bite of the ham and making a face, but swallowed it.

“How’d you meet Adam?” Keith asked.

“Keith,” Katherine snapped at him, “Eat your food.”

Keith rolled his eyes, “Oh, I’m just grilling the new guy, ma. I’m an uncle, it’s my job to make sure little Addy is being safe.”

Adam narrowed his eyes, “Thanks, Uncle Keith,” he said sarcastically.

                                                      ...........…

“We all have ornaments with our names on them,” Adam explained, “The tree is already decorated, but we always hang our family ornaments on Christmas Eve,” he told Michael, “Gran makes them, her dad used to make them before he died,” he said before going to hang a few on the tree that Michael recognized as some earlier people in the Milligan line. 

“We also celebrate the Winter Solstice,” Katherine added, smiling at Michael.

Michael nodded, staring at her, “Happy Yule, ma’am,” he said quietly, not loud enough for Adam to hear.

Katherine smiled, “You’re pretty smart, Mike,” she said before handing an ornament with his name on it.

Michael stared down at it, “It is not traditional for a new boyfriend to be welcomed into a family this fast.”

“Do we seem like a normal family, Mike?” Katherine raised an eyebrow.

“No, ma’am, you don’t,” Michael explained, “The Milligan line has many witches and I believe that you are one of them.”

“And I believe that you’re the Michael and not just Michael,” Katherine smiled at him before handing him a clear looking ornament, “This is for the tree in your new home.”

“A new home blessing,” Michael said quietly, admiring it and then his vessel’s cheeks tinged slightly, “I’ve always found witch traditions sort of fascinating.”

“Do you sense it in him?” Katherine asked.

Michael went silent.

“It’s late for him, I know, but...after everything he’s been through…” she trailed off, “He didn’t have his mother to guide him and James and I think that the time away might have...stunted his growth, if you know what I mean.”

Michael pursed his lips, “The Milligan line has a very high number of witches in your blood...I sense that in Adam, but it’s not as strong as with you or your husband. I do not know if he will ever grow into his powers after the time we spent in Hell. He did not age.”

Katherine nodded, smiling sadly, “Well...if you do sense anything, you know where to find us. We’ll take him in as soon as it happens, it’s what we do.”

“Did gran give you your ornament?” Adam asked, walking over quickly and looking at it, “I told her the colors you like.”

“It is nice,” Michael told him, slipping the other one into his pocket for when they got home. He smiled at Adam, taking his focus back to him, “Show me where you’d like me to hang it?”

Adam nodded, grabbing his free hand and leading him over to the large tree where his ornament was hanging along with his mother’s. He quickly adjusted it a little more, making sure her name was on the outside before smiling at Michael, “You can hang it beside ours.”

Michael hung his ornament before his lips twitched, looking at the tree names together.

                                                              ...........…

“Maybe you’re vegetarian,” Adam considered on the way back to their house, driving their truck.

“Maybe,” Michael said, staring out the window while holding his hand, “I do not appreciate eating things that were once alive.”

“We’ll start getting pizza with just cheese on it, then,” Adam smiled at him as he pulled in their driveway and put the truck in park before hopping out and running to the front door quickly, “I have to give you your present now, since you gave me mine,” he said, fumbling to unlock the door.

Michael smiled softly, leaning on the truck for a moment and watching Adam run inside, picking up Aira as he did and holding her close. He shut the door before hurrying after him, watching as his partner ran over to the tree, grabbing a small box.

Michael closed the door and locked it behind them before walking over to the tree as well. He discreetly hung the ornament from Adam’s grandmother before turning to smile at Adam.

Adam handed it to the archangel, an excited look on his face, “Open it!”

Michael opened it, blushing slightly at Adam’s gaze on him. 

“I-I know we’re not ready to get married or anything, but...I still wanted to give you something to remind you of me while you’re working. I-I’m so proud of you for getting that job, Mike.”

Michael opened the box, smiling down at the ring, “I love it, Adam,” he told him, pressing his lips against his, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Ava & Buster

Ava: Are you lot en-route? Buster: 'Course Buster: But we've had one foot out the door for like half an hour, honestly Ava: Good, 'cos I have presents Buster: Yeah? Buster: Pot of gold or what, like Ava: Hardly appropriate for a two-year-old Ava: None for you, soz 💔 Buster: I'd argue it's very appropriate Buster: All the shit he needs haemorrhages cash Ava: You were warned Ava: Extensively Buster: And I ain't sorry I didn't listen Buster: They can all try and sue me Ava: Enter an arena where they aren't the experts? Ava: Doesn't sound like mum and dad Buster: No such arena exists, clearly Buster: Know it all, have done it all Ava: Your degree must be a waste of time then Buster: You'd have to ask 'em what they reckon Buster: But I'd wait til they've got a few more drinks down 'em first, get closer to the truth Ava: Ugh, shut up Ava: You know they're proud of you Buster: Yeah yeah, blah blah Buster: But are you proud of me? Real MVP and everything Ava: When you get your cap and gown Ava: Funny wig, even better Ava: I still only got stuff for the kids and Ri though Ava: I'll chase a 🌈 down ASAP Buster: You're alright Buster: Already got a girlfriend, don't you? Buster: No need to get gayer just to wind me up, Nance has got that covered Ava: Ha, don't even chat to me about annoying Buster: I won't Ava: 😏 Ava: No, you're meant to ask, idiot Ava: You're so lucky you only have a son Buster: Tell me then Buster: I want a girl next Ava: Well she's not coming back, not that I'm surprised Buster: What bullshit excuse did she go with this time? She's got too much work on, girlfriend drama or she just hates fam functions SO MUCH Ava: It was column A presented but 1000% came across as column C Ava: She can be so Buster: I know Buster: Did she try and buy you off with an NYC trip that ain't gonna happen just like the last one didn't? Ava: Twin telepathy is real, yeah? Ava: 🙄 Buster: Fuck that and her Buster: I told you before, when you actually wanna go I'll take you Buster: Then you only have to see her a bearable amount Ava: I know Ava: It'd be interesting to see how long she could hold a conversation with me but yeah Ava: won't happen so Buster: Longer than she can with me or dad, probably slightly less time than she can with mum, depending what mood they are both in Buster: That'd be my bet Buster: Chin up, the good twin is finally on his fucking way Ava: Sounds about right Ava: Good time to tell you to call her yourself later or do you want a drink before you process that? Buster: Bad time to be forced to remember that I told Rio right at the start I wouldn't drink when she couldn't Ava: Honestly, I thought this kid was PLANNED Ava: She couldn't Christmas or New Year either Buster: She was planned, just not by me Ava: 'Course, you would've factored in drinking Ava: Must be their gay agenda Buster: There's loads of shit I'd have factored in Ava: That's your upbringing talking Buster: Shut up Ava: It is though Ava: Personally, I agree its better than the more the merrier approach too Buster: You'll personally be waiting a load more years before you make me play uncle then, yeah? Buster: Good Ava: Ugh Ava: Don't be making me 🤢 just because green is the colour today Buster: Gotta Buster: Who the fuck is there to be jealous of when we're us? Ava: You couldn't go the more traditional routes, no? 🍾🥂 Ava: Seeing as I'm NOT pregnant or being a very supportive partner to someone who is Buster: Come on, who am I? Buster: And you can leave me out of your rites of passage, I've cleaned up enough sick in the name of being a supportive partner Buster: Grace'll hold your hair back for you Ava: There's no need to be old AND boring 😏 Buster: Fuck off Buster: Counting down the days til I can drink you under the table Ava: Dad lets me Buster: There's nothing dad won't let you do Buster: Got him well wrapped around your finger, like Ava: It's not my fault I'm the most lovable Ava: Do better 😋 Buster: That's the one title you can keep Buster: Got all the love I need, cheers Ava: 🤢🥰 Ava: N'awh Buster: Lyla didn't wanna come and hang with the extended fam then? Ava: Wouldn't do that to someone I liked, would I? Buster: Depends how much you like her Ava: Nah Ava: That's all a bit heavy Buster: Well yeah Buster: It would be a trial by fire Ava: Then pissed on Ava: then set on fire again Ava: I like having time away when I come here, you know Ava: Not attached at the hip Buster: I know Ava: I'll send her a hilarious postcard or something Buster: You sounded like Nance there Buster: No need to miss her at all Ava: Fuck off Buster: You're right she'd never write it Buster: Half her holiday would be over before she got the words down Ava: 😂 Ava: Rude Buster: It's fuck all I wouldn't say to her face if she ever bothered to show it Ava: Can no one in this family be nice Ava: Honestly Buster: Come on Buster: I'm nice to you Buster: You ain't even bought me a present Ava: I know, I'm very lovable Ava: Have you got me one? Buster: Yeah but you ain't having it now Ava: Yeah right Ava: I know who gets last word in your house Ava: and Rio is nice to everyone Buster: She's nicest to me and she always does what I say Buster: So you might wanna think again Ava: That's entirely too much information, thank you Ava: you owe me double as compensation Buster: You ain't having two bottles Buster: Keep the first one down and then we'll talk Ava: Challenge accepted Buster: Good Buster: Don't really wanna have to disown you before the day's out Ava: Least there's enough of 'em to fall back on should you get the urge Ava: I'll survive Buster: Keep that quiet around mum, it's still them and us with her Ava: Sounds familiar 🙄 Buster: You're bound to hear it yet again by the time she's had a few Ava: Not if I have anything to do with it Buster: Sounds like you've got a plan Ava: As planned as a party should ever be Buster: Yeah Ava: 💃🎉 Ava: Hurry up Buster: Traffic's worse than London at its finest right now Buster: Everyone on the road's either already wasted or angry they ain't Ava: Stay safe Buster: 'Course Buster: Speaking of, where you staying tonight? Ava: Tipsy childcare is better than no childcare Ava: No need to beg Buster: Shut up, I'll drive you is all I'm saying Ava: Cheers 💙 Buster: I'll cash the IOU when you're sober, like Ava: Better cash it before I cash my 2nd present then Buster: Forget it for now, it's a holiday Ava: That's what I've been saying Buster: You ain't gotta tell me, even if today I can't play as hard as I work Buster: Still not a fucking amateur Ava: Still a McKenna Buster: First and best Ava: Hardly Buster: If we're going by mum's them and us viewpoint, there's hardly any competition Buster: Just you and me, kid Ava: Well I'm just saying, Granddad is gonna be fuming Buster: Everything you learned about wrapping dad round your little finger you got from watching me with him Buster: I ain't worried Ava: Pfft Ava: My baby blues are bluer and my pout is poutier Ava: I'm the new model, boy Buster: 'Cause you need 'em to fall back on Buster: I'm just that good Buster: you're the youngest model that's all Buster: Due a spectacular fuck up about now Ava: You wish Ava: On all counts Buster: Nah, I'm rooting for you Buster: 'Course I am Ava: Mhmm Ava: Dead convincing 😏 Buster: I always am Buster: Wig or no wig Ava: So soppy, you Ava: Have title of my best big brother Buster: That's a copout but whatever Ava: And fussy Ava: Alright best sibling but that isn't much more of an achievement really Buster: Don't worry about it Buster: I know how great I am Ava: Yeah yeah, blah blah Buster: Get me the least shit sounding soft drink and I'll believe you Ava: If there's anything being tragically underage has taught me Ava: 👍 Buster: Cheers Buster: See you in 5 Ava: Bring your cute kid Buster: I taught him how to say “Sláinte” earlier so you'll be able to rate my achievements for yourself Buster: He ain't just a pretty face Ava: 🥺🥰 Ava: What a face though Buster: I can't take all the credit Buster: He takes after his mother Buster: Tell her how good she looks when we get in, yeah? I'm living a nightmare Ava: 'Course Ava: I've got a girlfriend, remember Ava: I know the drill, just amp up period level love 1000% for a pregnant bitch Buster: My wife ain't a insecure teenager Buster: But I appreciate the sentiment Buster: Just don't call her a bitch ever again Ava: I say it with love Ava: from one to another Ava: but got it, I'll remind her she's old Buster: Don't Buster: It'll be your funeral Ava: 😂 I only like winding you u Ava: p Ava: Don't need anyone crying on me Buster: Good Buster: I don't need to be breaking up any girl fights Buster: Especially when I've taught you both everything I know Ava: Even if me hitting a girl is more acceptable than you, I think everyone draws the line at a pregnant one Buster: Fine, I don't wanna pick you up off the floor once she's knocked you out and do a concussion test after someone pours a pint over you to bring you round Buster: I was trying to soften the blow of how it'll play out since I'd be powerless to stop the actual Ava: And I thought you were in the festive spirit Ava: 🙄 Ava: I'll take back this virgin cocktail, like 😏 Buster: Not without any spirits in me Buster: You'll have to take what you can get Ava: Few folk songs and you'll be well into it Buster: Voice of an angel, obviously Buster: Could've been a choir boy if not for everything else Ava: You took living vicariously a wee bit hard with the name already Buster: You'd have preferred me to name him after a silent film star, yeah? Ava: That was pure wishful thinking 🙊🤐🤫 Buster: Fucked over as my boy's been by not being named Rudolph Valentino or Roscoe Arbuckle, I reckon he'll be alright Buster: Cheers though Ava: I think Fatty murdered someone Ava: so as far as aspirations go, you're in the right direction Buster: I always am Buster: Never a misstep made, no matter what mum and dad say Ava: Alright 👼 its St Paddy's not confessional Ava: and the priest would be rare pissed off if you waltzed in and said you'd never done anything wrong 😂 Buster: He'd be a fine one to talk Ava: The drama of it all Buster: Again, I don't need to be told Buster: There's a kid here asking for you, except shouting's more the word Ava: He gets it 👏 Ava: 💃 Buster: Come out before he legs it in

life’s not fair

so i had a bad dream last night/this morning, and i needed to get it out somehow. so i wrote a fic about it. im not putting this in the tags, im not sticking my taglist on it, and im putting all of it under the cut.

this is okay to reblog, comment on, etc. but it’s only been half-assed edited & not beta’d at all, so please forgive any mistakes.

warnings for: unhappy ending & references to emotional abuse (?) 

It was the happiest day of her life.

The dead, rising from their graves—hale and healthy and new again. Alexis didn’t understand the process behind it… she just knew she was going to see her mother again.

The wait was akin to torture. Her heart pounded at her breastbone; her skin was clammy; her mouth dry. She was too hot and too cold all at once. Excitement ran up and down her spine like miniature lightning bolts.

The car pulled up.

Alexis stood, heart on her tongue, watching the passenger side door.

It swung open. The sun glinted off of it, blinding her.

It slammed shut… and there she was.

Three years had passed, but her mother looked the same as she had the last day Alexis had seen her. She moved before she realized she was doing it. Her mother’s arms opened and she sank into them. Home, for the first time in three years.

She could have stayed there forever… until she heard the crunch of gravel.

She pulled away, turning to see which of her uncle’s had gotten here first… only to see a very familiar black, two-door Toyota.

She scowled. "What’s he doing here?"

"I invited him," her mother said, rubbing her back lightly.

Alexis turned, shock on her face. "Seriously?! How could you—" She stopped. "You don’t know." She hadn’t been there. It had happened after. A little over a year after, actually.

"Don’t know what?"

She glared at him, where he was striding over. "What he did to me."

  She woke up cold.

That wasn’t unusual. Not for early January, and certainly not for someone who kept the thermostat at 60F or below.

She stretched, bending her toes outward, feeling the gentle pull of her muscles and joints. She eased out of the stretch, rolled over, and grabbed her phone.

3PM. Not bad, given that she had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. She unplugged it from her charger and unlocked the phone, intent on resuming the story she’d left off from last night.

Until she caught a glimpse of her signal.

Ugh. Wi-Fi is out again. She rolled her eyes. It went out all of the time—that was what happened when you lived 100 feet further from the pole than they typically recommended.

She rolled out of bed, abandoning her blanket in a heap and made her way to the office.

As soon as she entered the living room, she could tell that something was off. The lights from beneath the Master Bedroom door and the office door were too bright. Both rooms had room darkening curtains—there shouldn’t have been so much light coming in. Ed definitely wouldn’t have opened the curtains.

Of course, one of the cats could have ripped them down. They liked climbing up them. She wouldn’t be surprised if the weight had finally been too much.

With a yawn, she opened the office door… only to stop dead in her tracks.

The curtains were gone. Not piled into a heap on the floor, just… gone. So was Ed’s second TV. And his big-ass recliner. And the hermit crab cage.

And the router.

She turned, opened the bedroom door.

Gone were the dressers, the shelves. Gone was the king size bed (which wasn’t even his!). Gone was his big-ass TV, his gaming system, his games, his massive collection of DVD’s. Gone was everything but a pile of old shoes and a couple of boxes.

Alexis’s eyes stung. Her face was hot. It felt like boiling water was sliding down her face.

She fumbled for her phone. Called him. Once. Twice. Three times. Each went to voicemail.

One of the cats start winding down her legs. She opened up her message app. Texted him. Waited. Waited. Waited.

No response.

Maybe he went back to live with his mother. Alexis found her number. Dialed. It rang. Rang. Went to voicemail.

Blip.

A text message. Not from Ed, from his mom.

Ella: In a conference. What did you need?

Me: Did Ed move back in with you? I woke up and all of his stuff was gone.

Ella: He didn’t say anything to me about that.

Panic, panic, panic.

Me: Please text me back. I’m getting really worried. If you’re not coming back, just tell me.

Google. Pizza place he worked at. Grab the number, call.

Finally, someone answers. Ask to talk to him. He won’t come.

Hang up.

Blip.

Ed: Sorry. I just can’t live there anymore.

It was what she expected. It still hurts. She’s sitting now. Cat won’t stop trying to rub on her face, knead on her leg. She hugs him for a moment, burying her face in his fur. He wiggles away, goes to look out the window again.

She picks her phone up. Dials another number.

"Grandma. Ed’s gone."

He’s made it over now, frowning as she told her tale. His arm is around her mother—it was more than he’d ever given her before she died. For all that he acted like they were together, he rarely ever touched her.

Alexis had told her mom to leave him before. If he wasn’t ready to be all in, but wanted to live in their house; sleep in their bed; mooch off their food, then he didn’t deserve any of that. He was a freeloader.

She’d been thankful for him after, though. Sure, he never gave her the mail and caused her to lose her disability; stole $600 off of her debit card and never paid it back; bitched about the house not being clean but never lifted a finger to help; brought home a cat after she told him no and then refused to help take care of it. But his presence had meant she didn’t have to leave the house, and she was grateful for that. Grateful enough that she put up with him, anyway.

And then he’d left, and hadn’t even given her a chance to prepare, to figure out what to do with the house, with her stuff, hadn’t given them time to prepare a space for her at her grandma’s. Just packed his shit up and bought a house without telling anyone.

It was infuriating.

Her mother listened, and Alexis knew, knew that she would understand—knew that she would see what an asshole he’d been, would be so disappointed in him.

"I’m sorry, Alexis," her mother said. She had always apologized for things that weren’t her fault. "He should have handled that better. But you can’t blame him for being overwhelmed. He’s never had to take care of a whole house before, or be responsible for someone else."

Alexis’s jaw dropped.

"And he knew you had your grandparents, that they would take you in."

No, no, no.

Alexis’s chest felt tight. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. That wasn’t what her mom was supposed to say. She was supposed to understand, not defend him.

Why did everyone always defend him?

She was crying again, elbows on the breakfast table, face buried in her hands. Her grandma pulled her into a hug, the side of her face pressed against her stomach.

"He just didn’t know how to take on all of that," her grandma said. "He’s not used to having to take care of anyone other than himself. Or paying all the bills himself."

"So?! He still could have told me."

"You’re here now," her granddad reminded. He’d been wanting her to move in since her mother died.

Bad things happened for good reasons, sometimes, Alexis reminded herself. It didn’t stop her from being angry. So what if she was there now? She should have been given a chance to prepare!

But he never did that. Never. On the one year anniversary, he’d driven them up to her grandma’s and just left her there, without telling her until five minutes before they left.

Because he didn’t want to deal with her being upset.

Because he was the only one who was hurting. The only one who might want to be in the house. He was a stupid, selfish—

"He took the coward’s way out," Alexis spat. "He’s supposed to be an adult but he acts like a child. And all of you let him get away with it!"

"Ed texted me today," Alexis said sourly.

Ed: Hope you’re doing okay. Found someone to take Gigi. By the way, I met someone.

What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Why the hell was he telling her that? Was she supposed to be happy that he’d moved on from her mother?

No—she knew why he was telling her that.

He wanted her to tell him that it was good, it was okay. He wanted her to alleviate his own guilt over leaving because he knew he did her wrong. And Alexis wasn’t going to give that to him.

"Oh, that was nice of him to tell you," her grandma said. "It’s good that he’s moving on."

Alexis had to focus on keeping her mouth shut, instead of letting it hang open like she wanted.

"I’ve been inviting him to the family get togethers," her grandma said. "I don’t want him to feel like we don’t want him around."

But we don’t. I don’t. "Are you serious? After what he did?" After what he put me through?

"He just wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility," her grandma said.

"You know if he had come I would have locked myself in my room the whole time, right?" Alexis snapped.

"I knew he wasn’t going to come."

But he could have. And what would you have done if he showed up, and I hid myself away? Would you have accused me of being childish, or would you have sent him away?

Would you have picked me… or him?

Alexis didn’t want to know the answer.

"Okay, what about what he did to Abigail?" Alexis crossed her arms. If what he did to her didn’t matter, maybe what he did to the middle child would.

"He made her feel unwelcome in her own home, so much that she stopped coming over," Alexis said. And then told me I wasn’t doing enough. Said I could make an effort to visit her, instead of her always having to visit me. Never mind that our dad is an asshole. Never mind the way he treated me was worse than the way Ed treated any of us.

"Abby’s always blowing things out of porportion," her mother said. Which was true. She took things worse than they were meant. It was a side effect of living with their father and his wife.

"He also fired her," Alexis snapped. "She went with her boyfriend to an important doctors appointment. She asked for the day off but was scheduled anyway. And when she called and said she was gonna be half an hour, an hour late—he told her not to bother coming in. Never mind that she hadn’t missed any days."

Her mom turned accusing eyes on Ed, but he said, "She got an attitude with me! Like every time she was on shift."

Her mom shook her head.

Alexis wouldn’t doubt it. Her sister had a temper and she didn’t always watch the way things came out of her mouth. But he was the same way. He snapped at her for doing things all the time, or pushed too far in teasing her and got upset when she snapped at him.

Alexis’s fists clenched. "You know what, fine. Fine. You wanna be with him, fine. But I’m not having any part of it. I’m staying here." She gestured to her grandparents house. "And if you wanna visit, leave him behind."

Her mother was supposed to understand. But she didn’t. None of them did. They smiled and said she had her grandparents, that she was fine, that she would be better off with them anyway. None of them understood, or maybe they just didn’t care, how that made her feel. Like she didn’t have the right to be upset. That her feelings didn’t matter. She was just supposed to pick up and move on with her life and that wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he got to treat her the way he had, that he got to shut her and her siblings out for a year, two years, and waltz back in now. It wasn’t fair that she was expected to be happy for him. It wasn’t fair that he got to pick up and leave without a word goodbye and she was supposed to let that go. It wasn’t fair that when she called him an asshole and refused to talk to him that she was accused of being childish, or petty.

It wasn’t fair.

She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to constantly doubt if she was allowed to be upset, to be angry, because no one would let her be. Because no one wanted to deal with it.

Because no one wanted to deal with her.

And that… wasn’t fair. 

Prompt: It’s a birthday! (Could or could not be mine but who’s askin) Magical AU with one of the kids birthdays? With the usual trimmings of cake and presents and magic shenanigans?

IT’S A MAGICAL AU BIRTHDAY!

2401 words; takes place on June 2nd, 2024; whatMagical AU is this prompt referring to? Why, The Other Director of Communications, of course, where Clara Oswaldand Malcolm Tucker are in a very fanon-laden version of the Harry Potter universe;there’s no cake mentioned but you can be fairly certain that there’s cake atsome point

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a fine day in late Spring, right near the beginningof summer, when Sorcha Oswald woke up and knew that, yes, this was the day sheturned eleven. Witches from magical families, she knew, got their Hogwarts Owl promptlyon their eleventh birthday, which was arguably the thing she was lookingforward to the most. She sprang from bed and rushed over to her window, openingit so hard the glass almost broke. Wincing, the girl checked it before pokingher head out and looking around.

No owl.

“Huh…” She shrugged and decided that, yes, it was a bitearly for an owl. No Muggle Post came on Sundays, but that was because it wasbrought by people and not birds, the latter of which didn’t care for such sillyhuman inventions as days of the week… let alone weekends. It didn’t matter though—she knew she was getting her owltoday and that was that.

After getting ready—her new tartan skirt and white blouse,with a set of black leggings and a tie—Sorcha went downstairs to find that herparents were both in the kitchen putting together breakfast.

“Happy birthday, my big girl,” Mum said, holding the sidesof Sorcha face between her palms as she kissed her forehead. She then looked ather daughter’s outfit. “Isn’t that tie a bit loose?”

“No, Mum—it’s perfect.”

“I know you’re still practicing, so tie it correctly,” Mumscolded gently. Sorcha looked at Dad, who was busy whisking waffle batter.

“Don’t look at me; Mam’s the one who knows Hogwartsstandards for ties,” he said. Sorcha pouted and undid her tie, going overtowards one of the metal mixing bowls that obligingly let her use it as amirror. She finished it and faced her parents.

“Better?”

“Much,” Mum said. It was then that Catriona came in—at seven-and-a-half,she was still able to sometimes get away with carrying her plush Shaun theSheep around the house. Climbing up into her seat, she set it on the table nextto her placemat, the worn-out creature acting as a wide-eyed sentinel,surveying the kitchen with an unblinking stare.

“Happy birthday,” Catriona said. “Did your owl come yet?”

“Not yet, but it will,” Sorcha said resolutely. She also satdown at the kitchen table and watched their parents as they continued makingbreakfast. “Um… Mum…?”

“Yes, sweetie?” She didn’t even turn around.

“When did you get your letter?”

“On my birthday, before I went off to school; Granddad andGran sent me to the Muggle school down the road from their house until I wentto Hogwarts, similar to how we homeschool you and your sister. Why?”

“Oh, just wondering.” Two cups floated off their shelf andover to the refrigerator, where the milk jug filled them both before allowingthem to sit down by the girls’ placemats. “What about Tash?”

“She was here to visit when she got her letter, which was asurprise to Uncle Gordon and Aunt Mary, let me tell you,” Dad laughed. Hepoured batter into the waffle iron and shut it, allowing the treat to cook. “Weall thought she was Muggle like her parents and me, but we learned a lot thatday. You were only two, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“Okay,” Sorcha said. She took a sip of milk and frowned—if Mum’scame before school, then where was her owl?

Losing herself in her thoughts, Sorcha lost track of whatwas going on until Dad put a double-decker waffle with strawberries, Nutella,chocolate sauce, and whipped cream in front of her.

“One Fucking Fantastic Muggle Waffle for the Birthday Girl,”Dad beamed. He then saw how concerned and distracted she was, which made himfrown as well. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it about your owl? It’ll come…”

“…are you sure…?”

“Sorchie, you and your sister have both given me more than severalnear-heart attacks each with the amount of magic you’ve emitted since you werebabies; trust me, I might be aMuggle, but I know for a fact you’re getting your fucking Hogwarts lettersooner or later.”

“Really…?”

“…or throw me back in the middle of fucking Whitehallwithout even your Uncle Jamie as backup,” he assured her. He kissed the top ofher head and gently patted her back. “Don’t worry about it, alright? Today’s your day—remember that.” He then glancedover towards his youngest daughter and scowled in exasperation before headingback to the waffle iron. “Cat, what the fuck did I tell you about carrying thatthing around the house?”

“No one’s over visiting,” she claimed.

“Malcolm, don’t cuss at the girls,” Mum cut in sharply. “They’regoing to think you’re serious one day.”

“Mum, it’s just how Dad talks,” Sorcha replied, her mouthfull of Fucking Fantastic Muggle Waffle. “We know he’s not being mean. Relax.”

“Do not test me, not today, young lady,” Mum hissed. “I will cancel your birthday party if Ihave to.”

“But Granddad’s coming! And Tash!”

“…and they can very easily not come. Now eat your breakfast.”

Sorcha took a large bit of waffle and shoved it all in hermouth, chewing grumpily.

Sod it.

“Sorcha, don’t even think-swear.”

Flip it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As the day wore on, Sorcha became increasingly worried abouther Hogwarts letter. She opened all the windows of the house, made sure thatshe checked the sills whenever she passed them, and even took her mother’sBluebottle to the roof for a bit and tried to keep watch there. After all themorning and half an afternoon of staring at the horizon, she determined thatthere were too many tall trees surrounding the house to make being out thereeven the slightest bit useful, so she rode back down to the garden and laid inthe grass, spread-eagle and face towards the grey sky.

“This blows,” she grumbled. Soon after, she could see herfather standing over her, towering as he stood with his toes by her ears. “What,Dad?”

“You’re not going to get anywhere by sulking like a wee shite,”he said. “Are either of my daughters wee shites?”

“No…”

“Alright then—get over yourself. Put the broom away and comeinside before you get grass stains all over your clothes. They’re a fuckingpain to get out, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sorcha stood and snapped her fingers,commanding the broom to make its way towards the shed. She then turned to lookat her father, surprised by the fact he looked red-eyed and a bit wobbly in thelip. “Are you alright?”

“Letter or no, m’bairn’s growing up,” he stated. “Fuck, you’realmost in secondary—it feels like we only brought you back from St. Mungo’slast year…”

“Stop crying, Dad. It’s weird.”

“I’m gonna cry if I fucking want to cry,” he laughed. Thesound of a car caught his ears and he turned around, seeing Granddad pull intothe drive and get out of his car. “Would you look who finally was able tofigure out what turn to take and get here on-time?”

“Good to see you too,” Granddad laughed. Sorcha ran up andgave him a tight hug. “How’s my darling eldest granddaughter today?”

“Granddad, tell me the truth: when did Mum get her Hogwartsletter?”

“Oh, haven’t gotten it, eh?”

“Granddad…!”

“Be patient; birds don’t teleport and the enforced aestheticmeans they can’t modernize to email,” Granddad said. He patted her shoulder—Christ,she was getting tall—and gently pushed her towards the house. “Get insidebefore the rain catches up; I’ve got to get your present from the car.”

“Alright.”

The tween went inside and saw her mother and sister puttingthe finishing touches on the sitting room’s decorations. Streamers and balloonsin Hogwarts House colors were scattered about the place, along with a sign thatread “Happy 11th Birthday Sorcha” in twinkling letters. Her eyeswent wide at the sight, it looking better than she had ever thought possible.

“Wow… it looks great, Mum.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” she replied. “Was that Granddad Iheard pull up?”

“Yeah.”

“Mum! Sorcha! I helped too!” Catriona piped up. She bouncedup and down in an effort to get some attention. She was cut off, however, byGranddad coming into the house while holding a brightly-wrapped box, Dad closebehind him.

“Ah, there we are,” he said, seeing the rest of his family.Catriona ran into him with a hug, nearly knocking him over. “Hey, hey, hey; don’tbreak me before your eleventhbirthday now.”

“I won’t break you, Granddad!” Catriona giggled. “Where’sGran?”

“Gran… had a thing; she sends her love, though,” he lied. Whowas he to tell his precious grandchild that his wife simply didn’t like them?No; it could definitely wait until they were both older. “Where’s your cousin?Don’t tell me I beat her here…”

“Natasha is very busy, I hope you know,” Dad said. “She’soff doing… uh…” He looked at Mum for help.

“…Herbology research…”

“Yes, Herbologyresearch, which is a very big deal for being so young.”

“I was a lad in the Seventies—you can tell me the truth.”

“Natasha is an intern in a Herbology study that is lookinginto the effects of corn syrup in Mandrakes’ diets in comparison to one wherethe sweetener is comprised mainly of sugar beets,” Mum deadpanned. Granddadlooked puzzled, which only made her exhale in frustration. “No, there’s no ‘street name’ in anything I just said.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.” Mum watchedas Catriona whimpered and pressed her forehead against Granddad’s hip, knowingit was a sign. “Speak the Dementor’s name and she shall come; three, two, one…”

Green flames roared up in the fireplace and Natasha emerged,another brightly-wrapped parcel underneath her arm. She grinned when she sawher baby cousins—it was now time to party.

“Sorcha! Happy birthday!” She hugged the tween and handedher the present. “Be careful with this—you don’t want to drop it.”

“Okay.” Sorcha looked over at her parents, blue eyes goingwide in hopefulness. “Can I…?”

“Go ahead,” Mum said.

Sorcha squeaked in excitement and placed the present down onthe coffee table before opening it up. She tore at the paper and lifted the lidof the box. After peeking inside, she dropped the lid and jumped back inhorror.

“You got me a dead cat?!”

“It’s not dead, just sleeping for optimal travel,” Natashasmirked. She pulled out her wand and waved it over the animal, waking it upgently in the process. “Spell on the kitten to make it sleep and a spell on thebox and paper to make it breathable so it didn’t suffocate. I’m not cruel.”

“Could have fooled me,” Granddad muttered. Mum elbowed himas they all watched Sorcha pick up the small British shorthair kitten frominside the box. Its fur was a golden color and its eyes a brilliant green. Insteadof being excited and happy as they had all thought she would be when theydiscussed the present, the adults instead saw that she was underreacting to thepoint of worrying them. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, but…”

“…but what, Sorcha?” Natasha asked. She sat down next to hercousin and put an arm around her shoulders so as to hug her. “I thought youwanted a cat to take to Hogwarts; Cosmic Creepers here is one of the best theyhad.”

“It’s a bit too soon, don’t you think?” she wondered. Tearsbegan to well in her eyes—some for the enormity of the present she was justgiven and some for what she knew she still lacked. “I mean… I don’t even havemy letter…”

“Sorcha Elena Oswald,enough about the letter,” Mum scolded. “You have not had a single doubt aboutgoing to Hogwarts before today; why are you being like this?”

“I never thought about it until today, Mum!” Sorcha firedback, tears beginning to leak down her face. “What if they don’t want methere?! I’d have to go away-away to school! I won’t want to go to France orAmerica or anywhere else!” She held the kitten close, with it mewling inconfusion. “I’m scared!”

“Sorch, I got my letter well after my birthday—don’t worryabout it,” Natasha assured. She held her cousin while she cried, feeling asthough she could at least do that for her.

“Owl!” Catriona gasped.

“Yeah, I know, I need my owl,” Sorcha grumbled. “Don’t rubit in.”

“No, owl!”Catriona pointed and the adults looked to see a rather small, fluffy owlperched atop the china hutch preening itself. Dad cussed under his breath andwent to chase it away.

“Get off me mam’s antique shit and sit on the goddamned postyou fucking titmouse-murderer,” he hissed. The bird flapped its way down to theperch the family owl used and fluffed its feathers. There was a letter attachedto one of its legs, but when he tried to take it, the creature nipped at hishand. “Ow, fuck! Don’t do that!”

“You have to be nice, Dad,” Catriona said. She walked up toit and stared it down, eventually getting close enough to read. “Sorcha! It’sfor you!”

“It is…?” The tween went and, while still holding thekitten, took the letter from the owl. It gurgled in satisfaction and hunkereddown for a rest before heading back. “It… it is for me.”

“Let me see,” Natasha said. Her cousin showed her theenvelope and she smirked. “Well now, you’re the only ‘Sorcha Oswald, Room in the South-East Corner, Raven’s Rook, Forest ofBowland, Lancashire, England’, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.” She let Natasha hold the kitten as she openedthe letter and browsed over the contents. Laughing, she allowed herself to cry,relief washing over her. “It’s my letter. I got accepted to Hogwarts.”

“See?” Dad said. “I toldyou it would come.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Yeah, but nothing; if that school lets the twat-bubbles andtit-zits that I know it has and didn’t accept my daughter, then it has more than another fucking think coming.”

“Um, are we going to ignore probably the weirdest thig aboutthis?” Granddad wondered. Dad looked at him, eyebrow cocked and ready forsassing.

“What?”

“…is that cat really named ‘Cosmic Creepers’ or did I mishear that?”

Bequest - Chapter 1

The unmistakable scent of late-summer mornings hung wafting through the heavy theater hallways. Cement foundations and speckled tile floor created sharp echoes as two men found their exit, passing by offices and small classrooms. One of the men lingered, looking back at what had been his home-away-from-home for nearly seven years. The other, older, man curled a stack of papers in his hands, and watched with a bittersweet feeling in his chest.

“You’re sure it’s not too early for you to take off, Tad?” Mr. Sanders asked.

Tad sighed and rubbed his arm. He was still trying to get a good look at the foyer, almost worried he’d forget everything the moment he left.

“It’s taken me too long to build up to this; to where I need to be.” Tad turned back to his mentor. He was scared, but his blue eyes were wide with anticipation. “I’ve had too many setbacks to keep me from from going, especially if I’m getting help.” Tad walked up to Mr. Sanders, fidgeting in his nervous state. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of anyone’s hospitality.”

Mr. Sanders nodded, smiling. “I’ve told you, my brother doesn’t mind. He lives twenty minutes away from the studio he and I used to work at. He’s a marketing executive in retail now, but we both still have old friends in showbiz, and he’s been wanting to get back into the scene as a manager; and he has a spare bedroom for rent. Why do you think I’ve been working so closely with you these past few years? I’ve already passed your name along.” Mr. Sanders handed Tad the bundle of papers. “All they need is a formal audition, your energy, and your passion.”

“What about a job until I find something?” Tad asked, eager to have an answer to any unknown that could come his way. Mr. Sanders chuckled.

“It’s a big place; and you’ve already worked for so long in that mechanic shop, I’m sure you can find quick work out there. Tad, you’re a smart kid; you’re going to be fine either way.” Mr. Sanders’ expression slowly sombered. “What I’m concerned about is if your mother’s going to be fine.”

Tad dragged his fingers through his coppery hair, knowing this concern wasn’t misplaced. “I’m about to go see her, and hopefully the rest of the family. The will’s being read today.”

Mr. Sanders looked at Tad, the wrinkles on his face coded his sympathy. “It’s such a shame about your grandfather. He was a good man.”

Tad didn’t return the sentiment. “He was… he was something.”

Mr. Sanders noted Tad’s distance speaking about his grandfather. He knew why. “He never told you, did he?”

Tad frowned. “No; he said he would, but I guess in the end he just decided not to. I asked him; I begged him to tell me the truth,” Tad shook his head, “he barely gave me a clue. The only revelation that he felt was important was that he didn’t think I was meant to be an actor. I reminded him that as much as I wanted to play football, it’s my fault that Jonah-”

“Tad, that was an accident,” Mr. Sanders said, squeezing Tad’s shoulder as he sensed his student’s frustration.

Tad’s expression tightened. “All I did was tackle him. I forgot. I lost my restraint and-”

“Thaddeus.” Mr. Sanders spoke firmly, breaking Tad out of his memory. “That was a long time ago. Something Jonah has long-since forgiven you for. He even told me at your last show he’s going to miss seeing you perform.”

Tad finally smiled, thankful to hear this. The two men walked to their cars as Mr. Sanders fumbled with his keys; he noticed Tad’s truck bed filled with boxes and secured with cables.

“It begins,” Mr. Sanders smiled. Tad exhaled loudly, and the shudder in his breath was noticable. “The most you can do is try, Tad.”

Tad nodded and prepared to part ways with his teacher, but as Mr. Sanders extended his arms to hug Tad, his water bottle tumbled out of his grip. With a subdued curse they watched it roll under a car several feet away. Mr. Sanders looked at Tad, as though asking and apologizing at the same time for a favor. Tad smiled, eager to help his teacher one last time and he looked around quickly before rushing to the car. As Tad gripped the front fender he showed little strain as he lifted the car up, just enough for Mr. Sanders to scrabble under and reclaim his water bottle. Mr. Sanders quickly backed away and looked at Tad, who didn’t seem at all fazed by holding the vehicle some three feet off of the ground. Tad set the car back onto the pavement with the ease of a falling feather.

“I’m going to miss watching you do that.” Mr. Sanders chuckled. Tad grinned, and he embraced his teacher one last time.

“Thank you for everything. You gave me a purpose,” Tad said, trying not to choke on his emotions.

“No, son. I just pointed you in a direction; you did all the work,” Mr. Sanders assured Tad. The two parted, continuing their goodbyes until they were driving away, waving at each other until they were out of sight.

Tad’s hands were beginning to shake. He wanted to be on the road, to begin his journey. He wanted to be one step closer to being finished with the hard part; he just worried that his departure from his parents would be much harder than saying goodbye to Mr. Sanders.

He drove up to his late-grandfather’s home within the hour and noted the array of other cars that belonged to family members. As he found a parking spot, he turned off his truck and sat for a moment, looking up at the house.

His mother and her siblings had grown up here. It was a place that Tad was never keen on visiting. It incited feelings of resentment and confusion towards his grandfather. The only time those feelings could have been dulled were when his Gram was around, bustling and bursting with enough cheer to power an entire city parade. She had been the glue of the family. Unfortunately, her death just four years earlier had created a rift, and Tad’s mother, aunt and uncle found it harder to visit their father. Tad remembered his Gram fondly, his mother’s stepmother, who had treated Tad no different than her grandchildren-by-blood.

He remembered that evening, late in the afternoon when Tad and his grandfather had returned home from an outing to the park.

The day Tad had learned about his strength.

Gram had seen her husband and grandchild walk to the front door, the older man’s face was streaked with blood. With a horrified squawk, she checked on the boys, yet her husband was nowhere nearly as shaken as Tad, despite his injuries.

“We’re fine, Abigail,” Tad’s grandfather insisted as she herded them into the kitchen.

“Kallistos, what happened? Oh Tad, honey, you’re white as a ghost! In! In!” She retrieved a towel and peroxide, dabbing it to her husband’s temple before he could take a seat. “I thought you were going to the park!”

“We… we did,” Tad answered mousily. “These big guys came out of nowhere!”

Kallistos turned to Abigail as he tried to take control of tending to his own wounds, but she smacked his hand away. “It was four, maybe five thugs.They rattled me; best I’ve ever been hit.”

Tad noticed the way his grandfather spoke. He didn’t seem angry that he’d been inured; it was almost like he was more entertained. The brunt of his concern came about when Tad was relevant to the scenario.

“I thought they were gonna get Tad; but I was able to chase ‘em off,” Kallistos grunted.

Tad was confused. That was a lie. He’d watched one of the assailants strike his grandfather with a metal rod, only to pilfer his wallet and come after Tad; but the six-year-old overpowered the two grown men holding him down and was able to disarm the third holding the rod. As he chased the thugs away, Tad had gripped the rod so hard his little hands had left imprints on the metal. Kallistos was quick to check on Tad, who almost became hysterical from the turn of events; but Kallistos quickly calmed Tad, and even smiled at the boy as he promised an explanation later. “B-but Granddad-”

“Oh my Tad.” Abigail fussed, finally letting Kallistos take over dabbing at his cuts. She wiped her hands on her apron before cupping Tad’s face and kissing his forehead.“I’m so glad you’re safe. I’m going to go start a bath for you, okay honey? Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“O-okay; I’ll be right there,” he said as Abigail bustled off. Tad slid off the chair and looked at his grandfather, confused.

“B-But I stopped them.”

“You did.” Kallistos acknowledged, looking at the blood on the dish towel, almost curiously. “And you did a fine job. But we don’t need to worry her any more,” His gaze turned to Tad out of the corner of his dark eyes.” We’ll talk about it as needed.”

“You said that earlier; when will we-”

“As needed, Thaddeus. Now go wash up. Your mom will be picking you up soon.”

As Tad reluctantly left the kitchen, he worried he would never be told about this sudden influx of strength that had entered his life; and he was right; his grandfather continued that day as though he hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. His parents found out within the week. Tad was helping his mother in her vegetable garden when he came face-to-face with a wasp. Frightened and unable to be coerced into staying still, the six-year-old panicked and tore off a part of their iron-wrought fence just to try and swat the pest. His mother watched, dumbfounded, and life with a rambunctious son turned a bit more hectic as he’d become a mobile wrecking ball. His father joked that they were going to save on medical bills though; he and his wife watched their son in his youth go through his share of trips, bumps and falls without so much as a wince.

As he grew, his strength grew with him, and the painful side-effects of Tad’s strength became a reality when, at the age of thirteen, a game of football sent one of his close friends to the operating room. A tackle from Tad had broken five ribs, one of which had pierced the other boy’s lung. Tad became withdrawn afterwards, and he begged for answers from his grandfather.

None came.

Seeking an outlet, Tad met Mr. Sanders and decided to give theater a try. It had been a Godsend. To learn how to divert his emotions into acting became a form of therapy for him, and Tad was soon taking part in plays in the town theater. His strength gave him the chance to perform a few extra stunts, or fall extra hard when slapstick was involved. Through and after high school, he worked as a mechanic’s apprentice to fund a trip to California. Mr. Sanders, who had worked in film for a short time before his health forced him to move up north, had often invited old colleagues to his plays. Several of them had been eager to help Tad make his mark in the industry; but in the end, Tad worried that if he left too soon, he would never get his answer from his grandfather.

But even after a heated confrontation just six months earlier, his grandfather didn’t budge on answering his question. And that was when Tad finally decided to leave. With his funds secure and a place to stay, he was ready.

And then Kallistos died.

His very last chance was officially gone. Now the only worry he had left was leaving the nest the same week his mother had lost her father.

With a sigh, Tad finally climbed out of his truck and towards the house. The squawl of the screen door announced his entry, and he was immediately fighting the memories associated with the scents and sights in the dusty foyer.

“Hollywood!”

Tad smiled as his cousin Fred bounded towards him from the den, followed closely by his sister Tabitha. Tad eagerly hugged two of his closest friends, relieved to know he would be seeing them one last time. Fred, however, looked at him seriously.

“Dude, your mom’s a mess,” Fred said worriedly.

“I’ve never seen her this bad,” Tabitha seconded.

Tad rubbed his face, feeling guilt swell. “I’ll go check on her. Have they read the will yet?”

“Not yet. They will in the hour, I think,” Tabitha said.

They parted and Tad gave quick greetings to his two other cousins, Sally and Candace, and his aunts and uncles before retreating through the back door. Just past the overgrown lilac bush, he could see his mother and father as they sat on the colorful, wooden yard swing. His mother leaned on his father’s shoulder, gentle words being spoken between them. Tad slowly rounded the bush and tried to smile.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

He couldn’t have gotten another word out before his mother was hugging him, all the while his father tried to steady the swing, which wobbled awkwardly from her sudden movment.

“Oh my Tad! I was scared I wouldn’t see you,” Tad heard his mother say. He held her close as his father stood, rubbing his wife’s back.

“I’m not gonna leave without saying good-bye, mom,” Tad said.

They stood embracing for a moment before she pulled away, sniffling and rubbing away dark strands of hair that clung to her tear-stained cheeks. “Y-You said good-bye to Mr. Sanders?”

“Yeah. He gave me his brother’s address. I’ll be staying there til I get on my feet,” Tad smiled. His mother tried to do the same. Tad watched as his father gently touched his wife’s shoulder.

“Hon; sit down,” he almost begged.

“I’m fine-” she retorted, placing her attention on Tad’s shirt. Tad watched as her shaking, bony hands fiddled with a button, and he noticed how pale she looked.

“Mom, have you eaten today?”

“I’m said I’m fine.” But this declaration was tinged with a warbling voice, and her lips quivered as she fought more tears. Tad looked up helplessly at his father, who sighed and gently squeezed his wife’s shoulder.

“I’m going inside. I’m getting you some food,” he insisted. She didn’t look at him.

“I don’t want it,” she answered, almost childishly. Tad’s father shook his head, brushing her curls back behind her ears.

“Well that’s too bad because I’ll be damned if I have to watch you pass out before noon. Tad, have a seat with her?”

Tad nodded to his father and directed his mother to the swing. They sat down, and Tad’s rough hand was soon held by his mother’s small, clammy hand; her fingers interlaced with his. She leaned against him, and Tad nuzzled against her black hair.

“You’ll call me when you get there?” She asked. Tad squeezed her hand gently.

“You know I will,” he reassured her. They sat together, listening to the mourning doves coo and the crickets chirp. “I’ll come back to visit now and then. I don’t know if I’ll be home around the holidays; but I’ll try to pull some strings.”

“We’ll be fine. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now,” his mother sighed, still holding his hand. “Dad… Granddad and I weren’t close. But… but I always wanted to have a good relationship with him. He was just too harsh, and he didn’t like your dad; so that was strike one.”

“I never understood that; why didn’t he?” Tad asked, still confused about the age-old mystery of why Kallistos had abhorred Tad’s father. Tad’s mother clicked her tongue.

“Because if your granddad had had his way, I would have been a spinster. That was strike two. He wanted me locked up and safe; but by all means your aunt Carol could go to all the sock hops she wanted. Apparently what happened to my mother was so traumatic, he didn’t want to see me hurt.”

Tad remained confused. “But what did happen to her?”

His mother shrugged once more. “He never told me. I’ve never even seen pictures of her. Gram never knew her, but she knew about her. She was always mum about the subject; but she was more of a parent to me than your granddad was. Funny how that works, huh?”

Tad smiled, knowing how she felt. His mother leaned into him, and he rocked the swing slightly, enough to catch the winds picking up the scent of the lilac bush.

“So… what was strike three that kept you and granddad apart?” Tad asked.

His mother squeezed his hand a bit harder this time. “He treated you differently.”

Tad listened to this and felt a swell of emotion. He glanced down at his mother as she peered out into the yard; and she confirmed everything Tad had ever felt towards his grandfather.

“He never hesitated doing anything for your cousins. He joked around with them, played games. But with you; I never saw him act like that with you. He was so serious all the time; he treated you like a stranger. I don’t doubt that it was because he doesn’t… didn’t like your father. But I kept… I kept trying to find common ground with him; and I’m sorry I put you through all of that, Tad; I’m so sorry.”

“Mom it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not,” she insisted. She sniffled, her fingers almost inspecting her son’s hand now to distract her.

Tad let her trace his work-worn hand, and he prodded his nose against her temple.

“Yeah, but you know what?”

“What?” She sniffled back. Tad rested his chin on the top of her head.

“I still forgive you.”

Tad listened to her release a sob as she rested her head back on his shoulder. She looked up at him, her green eyes teary and swollen, but smiling.

“Besides the trouble we had with Grandad; I wouldn’t change a thing we’ve had. Our family, where we are. I’ve been where I needed to be all my life. I just hope where I’m going next will be the same.”

“It will be.”

Tad and his mother looked to find his father rounding the lilac bush, holding a plate of food. He smiled to them. “You’re gonna be fine, Tad. And you know you’re always welcome back home if it doesn’t work out.”

Smiling, Tad nodded. “Thanks.”

Tad watched as his father offered the plate of food to his mother. “Here, eat. You need to get something in your system.”

Pouting, Tad’s mother smirked as she reluctantly accepted the plate. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t get between your brother and that potato salad for you to be a big baby, woman,” Tad’s father grinned, sitting next to him. Tad sat in-beween his parents, both nervous to leave and nervous to stay too long; but he was content to stay with his parents just a little while longer, at least until he was sure his mother was going to be fine. She nibbled at a few vegetables on the plate, but insisted that Tad finish off the rest, wanting to be sure he was fed before his trip.

“Filippa?”

The trio jumped as Tad’s aunt Carol found them; she smiled wearily at her older half-sister. “They’re about to read the will,” she said. Tad’s mother sighed and slowly stood, looking back at her husband and son.

Tad’s father shrugged. “I’ll go with ya if you want,” he said, getting ready to stand, but his wife shook her head.

“You can stay out here; I know you’ve been wanting some downtime lately. Tad, are you coming?”

Tad sighed. “I doubt he left me anything.”

“He did,” Carol smiled. “Everyone was left something.”

Tad looked at his father, still reluctant to go; but he stood, deciding to give his mother his company.

“I’ll be out here if you need me,” Tad’s father said, watching them head inside. They made their way up the stairs into what used to be Kallistos’ study. Tad looked around, feeling his stomach squirm. He had been in this room those six months ago when he saw his grandfather for the last time. He could see the crater in the desk that he’d made in his fury as he was denied answers once again; denied the answers he’d been promised some fifteen years earlier. Tad broke away from the memory and smiled at his cousins before sitting in a folding chair next to his mother. The lawyers sorted papers and items before beginning.

Tad’s mother was called first; the eldest of the children. She was bequeathed a portion of her father’s savings while the other half was given to Carol. The house was to be given to Tad’s uncle Max, the third and youngest of Kallistos’ children.

Tad’s cousin, Sally, the oldest of the next generation, was bequeathed the art collection left behind by Gram; Fred was given his grandfather’s jewelry, such as handsome cufflinks and pocket watches, but a specific piece was saved for his sister: Tabitha inherited their grandparents’ wedding rings, with a note from Kallistos blessing her recent engagement. Tad looked to his mother, who smiled tautly, but still offered a warm expression towards her niece. Tad listened as his cousin Sally was bequeathed their grandfather’s entire library; which left Tad wondering what he’d been left.

“To Thaddeus Graham Irving,” the lawyer started; “my gift is to be given in private.”

Tad heard the creak of chairs as the family turned to look at him, as confused as he was. He looked at his mother, and she nodded for him to follow the lawyer. Feeling his family’s eyes on him as he exited the room, he was led down the hallway to one of the abandoned guest rooms. This room held unwanted memories. It was the room he’d stayed in the only time he’d ever spent the night in this house; the night his mother suffered a miscarriage, and a five-year-old Tad was taken to this house by his panicking father. Tad snarled, feeling as though Kallistos was spiting him, even in death. Upon entering the room, Tad saw a large, arced object, covered by a tarp. He stared at it, hesitating. It was taller than he was; but noticably thin. He turned to the lawyer, who nodded for him to take a look.

Tad approached the tarp, and with a quick, shaking hand, he swept it off, and he began to splutter as an array of paint chips showered him. He backed away from the dusting of pale green paint before he finally laid eyes on his inheritance.

The wood was just faintly rotting, the frame appeared to be weak and giving way while the bronze handle and hinges were rusting.

It was a door.

An ancient, crumbling door.

Tad stared, his jaw going slack as his face reddened. He turned to the lawyer, who seemed to be shaking.

“Is… is this for real?” Tad hissed. The lawyer gulped, pulling a picture from his clipboard to show Tad.

“I’m afraid so, sir. There’s one other thing as well,” he said, removing another item; he handed an envelope to Tad, and on it was his name scrawled in his grandfather’s writing. Tad reached out, taking the letter.

“Wh-what is it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. Perhaps an explanation of sorts?”

Explanation? What did Kallistos know about explaining anything? Tad felt his fury rising; he wanted to destroy the letter; to take it and this rotting junk and burn it.

“I’ll; I’ll leave you be, sir.”

Tad listened as the lawyer left. He stood there, in this damned room, looking at his joke of an inheritance. He backed away, sitting on the dusty bed. He tried to gather his thoughts, and he buried his face in his hands, unsure of what to think.

“Tad?”

Tad jumped as he heard his mother’s voice. He looked at the door and quickly replaced the tarp, not wanting her to see what he’d been left; he knew it would upset her further. He finally opened the door to the room, finding his mother on the other side, still emotional, but she smiled at him.

“What did he leave you?” She asked, walking inside. She was taken back by the large object, and Tad reluctantly conjured a lie.

“A mirror. He left me some old mirror. For my 'future dressing room’. Looks like it’s been in storage for a long time; but… it- it’s nice,” Tad smirked weakly.

“Are you serious?” His mother responded. She looked at Tad, and he shrugged.

“Hey; could have been worse. I mean; I thought he didn’t want me to go into acting, but… but maybe he was okay with it after a while.”

Tad dug into his own personal hope as an excuse. He looked at his mother, wondering if she even bought the lie. She looked at the tarp, and smiled up at him.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” she said, rubbing his back. “Right?”

Tad nodded back. “Better late than never.”

It wasn’t long until Tad was hauling his inheritance out to his truck, making sure it remained completely wrapped in its tarp to prevent anyone from seeing what his gift had truly been. He began securing it along with his boxes just as his parents joined him. His father started helping as he sorted boxes to get the large object to fit, and his mother climbed inside to place a paper plate of food on the passenger’s side seat. She watched her boys finish the packing adjustments, and her heart sank a little when her husband announced 'all set’.

Tad smiled as his father gently clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You take care of yourself, son. Break a leg; or whatever you guys say.”

Tad grinned, hugging his father tightly. “I’m gonna miss you,” Tad said, now beginning to shake again.

“You’re gonna do just fine,” his father reassured him. He and Tad parted as Tad looked to his mother. She smiled through her quivering lips at her only child. She embraced him, stroking his rusty curls as she fought her emotions.

“I love you, mom. I’m gonna see you real soon, okay?” Tad promised, hearing his mother sniffle. She held on tight, not ready to let go, but she knew she couldn’t make him stay any longer.

“I’m so proud of you; no matter what happens,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “Just… take care of yourself, okay?”

Tad smiled. “I will, so long as you do the same.”

She squeezed his hand, looking at him for as long as she could. “Drive safe.”

Nodding, Tad looked back to his father. They clasped hands warmly before Tad kissed the top of his mother’s head.  With one last hug, he climbed into his truck.

“Thank you; for everything.” Tad smiled, wiping his eyes. He watched his father wrap an arm around his mother, gently holding her close as Tad started up his truck. “I’ll call you soon!”

With a final wave from his parents, he barely registered pulling out of the lot and onto the road. He watched them from his mirrors, waving to him as he honked back. With a shuddering breath, he tried to dry his eyes with his already tear-stained hand, and he looked out to the roads as he quickly arrived at the exit to the interstate.

He looked back to his trunk bed, making sure that everything was still secure, and his eyes landed on his inheritance. He sighed, knowing he was stuck with it, and was now having to come up with an excuse for Mr. Sanders’ brother as to why he was packing a rotted door with his belongings.

But he didn’t linger on the thought. He looked over at the plate of food his mother had left for him. Taking a bite out of a deviled egg, he couldn’t help but smile. Even after the worry, the anger, the sadness; Tad looked ahead to the sprawling highway, knowing he was on his way to the next chapter of his life, and he greeted what may come with open arms.

Update?

I’m going to talk about wakes/funerals/family drama below the cut, so please be advised.

Oof.  The wake and funeral were horrible.  On top of it just being so, so sad, my father and his mother were at the wake, and he was at the funeral.  It was awful.  His mom treated it as, like...  A social outing?  She's lonely.  But it was so bad, because I saw my grandmother in the casket and started crying, and she... tried to talk to me?  Like, just about herself and her life?  While I'm bawling?  She's not all there mentally, so I'm trying to be forgiving about it, but geez.  Then she just... went around to all these mourning people, talking about herself and her life and stuff.  And my dad cornered me and talked about his latest thing, which is buying kitchen gadgets and never using them (a continuation of buying camping gear and never using it and those little D&D figures and never painting or playing with them).  And he stood behind my cousin while she prayed/said goodbye at the casket talking about how in other cultures they keep the body in the house while it decomposes and stinks up the house (his words, not mine).  He never did offer condolences or ask how I'm doing...

His mom wasn't there the next day at the actual ceremony/burial, and he was soooo much worse.  First, when the priest invited the family to talk about grandmom, he said, "Well don't make me do it," after an approximately 0.5 sec pause.  I literally moaned, "Oh, god," like it just slipped out- again, I'm already crying, there was a lot of crying involved.  So he gets up before any of grandma's kids can and makes a speech, god I hate him.  Then he sat down and my uncle, who had planned to say something from the start, said his thing.  After that there was a pause, and the priest said even if it's hard, it's better to tell your story if you can, so I tried.  It was about how one time when I was a little kid sleeping over and sharing Grandmom's bed, she was praying and I asked what she prayed about (not knowing that that's kind of a personal question, lol).  And she said she prays for lots of things, but for granddad and their kids and grandkids most of all, and how we love her so much because she cared so much about all of us.  And I paused at one point to gather myself, because I felt like I would cry- it was like a three second pause, nothing massive- and then my dad gets up, walks across everyone, and puts his arm around me like I was an eight-year-old bawling and starts like whispering in my ear, and my whole face went red and it was the worst, and I rushed through my already short thing while my husband is death-glaring and mouthing stuff like, "Stop, stop, she doesn't want help."  And after the funeral, while I am again, crying, he puts his hands on my shoulders, blocking escape, and says, "A little voice told me to help you, you did fine but you were too fast-" and I just said, "Excuse me," and broke free and went to blow my nose and my husband just stood between us and I actually wanted to hit him.

Then we went to Grandmom's house, and he bought some soft pretzels and kept saying, "Anyone want an Amish pretzel?  Mmm, pretzels!  Pretzels!" for like ten minutes and I could hear him from grandmom's bedroom, where I went to just...  Be quiet for a few?  And he just kept talking over everyone.  And he said, "You all left me hanging and made me talk at the funeral!"  And an aunt said, "My brother was trying to go."  And everyone was really curt and like...  Had physical "go away" body language, like sitting with their back to him and stuff.   And there was all this other drama because there is a brother who went away as from the family as soon as he could and was into drugs and alcohol and crime and apparently did a bunch of shady stuff no one wants to tell me about (stuff like asking for money from my grandparents his whole 60 years and living with siblings and never paying rent and using all their stuff and consumables is the most anyone would tell me), and they hated him?  I've only seen him twice in my life before this.  It was very awkward and tense.

Meanwhile, at the dinner between wake sessions, my far right aunt was talking about...  Conspiracies the whole time.  Someone named Q and how Trump pointed at him and he secretly runs the nation from Twitter???  And she kept talking about how liberals are pedophiles?  Something Men and Boys club something something and I'm like...  Oh my God, please don't talk about pedophiles at my grandmother's wake dinner?!?!?!?  And she took one look at my bag (one year my Grandmom asked what I wanted for Christmas and my birthday, and I told her and my mom I wanted this cat bag, so they both gave me money for both events and I bought the bag with a coupon) and was like, "Kate Spade's suicide was ACTUALLY A MURDER, blah blah conspiracy" and I'm like, "...Hi Auntie???"

And today I found out that an old coworker, a single dad with twins in middle school, passed away, and I feel like I can't take any more.

I’m off the next few days for bereavement leave and the Fourth, but I just...  I’m so lost and sad and bereft and angry, I don’t know...  I’m trying to do normal stuff like play video games, but I can’t seem to focus on it.  Hopefully I’ll wander back into a better emotional state soon.  I think the wake and funeral were actually counter productive to that end.

I miss my grandmother so much.

11 January 2018 

(Wrote a full Plotdale in honor of the White's Exit. It's nearly 3k of nonsense. I hope all of you who have been missing Plotdale, enjoy it. If you make it through, let me know)

[Home Farm with Lawrence, Chrissie, Rebecca, Lachlan and Sebasttiennneeen]

LAWRENCE: Dog is safe away from us! - for the fans

CHRISSIE AND REBECCA: *People who aren’t us will be so happy Face*

*Whites banter about Sebastttttiieennnnnee* #WorstNameEver

CHRISSIE: I can’t believe the Plot is finally setting us free! It doesn’t feel real.

LACHLAN: *Appears* *Miserable about the Plot Face*

LAWRENCE: You could try looking a little more excited about the Plot letting us go, Lucky. I’ve been waiting for this for MONTHS!!! Afterall, I checked out back in August. #BitterAndSalty

CHRISSIE: Yeah, come on Lucky. Australia is lovely and Plot free this time of year. What could go wrong?

LACHLAN: But...I just don’t understand why Belle would break up with me. It’s not like I stalked her when I first arrived and took creepy pictures of her and then sexually assaulted someone and got away with it and then faked suicidal thoughts and then kind of stalked her again when she was dating that doctor #NotAllDoctorsAreNice and then shot granddad and helped you frame an innocent man and then went to prison for it anyway and then there was that time I kidnapped your uncle and tortured him and then I faked my own suicide while I hid in the attic spying on everyone….I mean, I’ve never done anything wrong in my whole life!!! #LetSerialKillerLachlanRise

CHRISSIE: You’re so right, nothing is ever your fault, Lucky. And nothing about that attitude is going to come back and haunt me later at all. Also, let me get in one last dig about the Dingles.

LAWRENCE: *Casually Sexist*

REBECCA: *Looks vaguely amused but offended*

CHRISSIE: Go pack! The clock is ticking on our lives!

*The Whites attempt to have cute banter* #TooLittleTooLate #BetrayedByThePlot

LACHLAN: *Murder Eyes*

[Keepers Cottage with Robert and Victoria]

VICTORIA: Robert? Are you sure this insane plan is the right thing to do?

ROBERT: Obviously. We clearly have no other options.

VICTORIA: But like, surely there’s something else we could do that makes more sense?!

ROBERT: I’m waiting….?

VICTORIA: Look! I’m sure there is, okay, but the Plot won’t let me think of any right now.

ROBERT: Great, the crazy plan it is! I mean, I tried to go down the legal route before I did something stupid but the Plot left me no choice!

VICTORIA: But like...will this help you legally?

ROBERT: Does the Plot care about legality? Rebecca just wants to hurt me okay! #YourVictimComplexIsShowing #TheWhitesHaveRubbedOffOnYou

[Home Farm with Lawrence, Chrissie and Rebecca]

CHRISSIE: I’d like to say we had plenty of good times but...we pretty much just messed everything up because the Plot hates us. I mean...we let Lachlan get away with sexually assaulting someone for way too long, I might have gotten my first husband murdered, I set fire to Robert’s car and accidentally killed three people, I found out I wasn’t your biological kid and you fought being gay for so long you were literally shooting teddy bears in the yard, I found out you got my bio dad killed, I tried to date my uncle, we let Rebecca into the house, we all disowned each other five hundred times, we believed Robert Sugden too many times for our own good and WE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WE HAD AN ATTIC!

LAWRENCE: Ah...good times. At least we’re united now! No time left to disown each other before we go!

CHRISSIE: I’m sure everyone will miss us so much. They’ll probably throw a fireworks display in our honor and totally not for ironic reasons. #StopLyingYouLiar Oh and I lied, now I’ll get my last dig in about the Dingles. Cause I’m far superior than them, especially Charity.

LAWRENCE: I’m sorry for all of the horrible things I’ve done and all the gullibility and all the lying.

CHRISSIE: Oh don’t worry Dad, you’re not alone in all of that. I’m also sometimes terrible. But let’s not actually talk about that because why would we admit to our own mistakes properly! Now….let’s go get Lucky and go. LUCKY!!!

REBECCA: Hi, I’ve arrived to deliver the Plot relevant line because I don’t matter! Lachlan is not here. #JobDone

[The Village with Robert, Aaron, Gerry, Tip, Ross, Moses and Victoria]

*Aaron runs with a dog* - for the fans #GetAaronAPuppy

GERRY: *Leaves a message for Lachlan to further the Plot*

AARON: Hey best friend! You look like you’re running away. That’s never a good sign.

GERRY: *interrupts*

AARON: Go away Gerry! I’m trying to have a chat with my idiot husband..I mean best friend.

*Gerry runs ahead*

AARON: So...what are you doing exactly?

ROBERT: *Is Shifty*

ROSS: *Appears with Moses looking like a good dad* #LetTheTheoryLive *References Adam Plot*

ROBERT: Hey best friend Aaron, I know you want to hit him but you learned that violence wasn’t the answer back in your Boxing Filler Plot. This is so 2017 Aaron. That said, he absolutely deserves a punch but just...the Plot doesn’t have time for that right now. You need to not be in prison so we can have that reunion soon.

AARON: Cheers, best friend. Thanks for looking out for me. Back to you though, you look like you’re about to do something stupid but you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?

ROBERT: You know me so well. This is why you’re my BFF.

AARON: Please don’t do anything stupid Robert. #ImNotReadyToLoseYou

GERRY: Come on Aaron! It’s time for the Plot to move on without us!

*Aaron and Gerry run away from the Plot*

VICTORIA: Robert! It’s time to do something stupid!

[Wishing Well with Lachlan and Belle]

LACHLAN: Belle, I really don’t understand why you broke up with me so the Plot sent me here to get vital information that will impact the rest of the Plot.

BELLE: Well...I’m going to try really hard not to tell you for a while…

*Tick tock tick tock*

LACHLAN: *Makes lots of super insensitive comments about Belle’s metal health issues*

*Tick tock tick tock*

BELLE: Okay fine, you’re mum told me about your attic lair and I think you need help. So I think that you should go and do what the Plot wants you to do.

LACHLAN: *Sad Murder Eyes*

[Outside Home Farm with Robert, Victoria, Lawrence, Chrissie, Rebecca, Lachlan, Sebastttiiennnee and Sebasstttiiienenne’s inadequate double]

ROBERT: *Super Spy Mode Activate* Look at Rebecca trying to ruin my life. #YourVictimComplexIsShowing

VICTORIA: Let it go, Rob.

ROBERT: Uh...this is the basis for this entire Plot, how can I let it go?

VICTORIA: Because when you’re wound up, you make mistakes and when you make mistakes, people die!

ROBERT: Oh I’m willfully ignoring all of the signs in this Plot. I’m not going to make ANY MISTAKES! No #UnintendedConsequences for this full proof plan!

LAWRENCE: Can we just have one last look that we didn’t miss any opportunities in the Plot? #SoManyMissedOpportunities #PlotVicitms

CHRISSIE: *On the Phone* Come on Lucky, we really need you for this Plot! Just one more time.

REBECCA: *Exists to put Sebasstteeieennne in the car*

*The Whites head back into Home Farm*

VICTORIA: Chrissie! I still have a catering business! I know, right! But anyway, it’s super relevant right now so will you talk to me about it?

CHRISSIE: Uhh...this seems suspicious but okay.

ROBERT: *Super Secret Spy Mode Run* *Opens car door*

SEBASTINENNEEEENNE: *Cries while wearing adorable teddy bear onesie*

ROBERT: *Dad Mode Activate* Today you’re my mate! You know who else is my mate, Aaron. You’re the only two people in the world I care about.

*Camera shifts*

ROBERT: *Picks up Sebasttienneeeenen’s double* It’s okay, I’ve got ya.

SEBASTTTTIIENNE’S DOUBLE: *Does an inadequate impression of a baby*

ROBERT: *Runs* #NoActualBabiesWereEndangeredDuringThisSegment

REBECCA: *Exists for the specific Plot purpose of seeing Robert running*

ROBERT: *Damn this driveway is longer than I remembered Face*

REBECCA: ROOOOBBBBBERRRRRTTTTTTTT!!!!!!! #DupedAgain #PlotVictim #UgliestCoatVestThingEver

LAWRENCE: Oh no! What the Plot has happened now?!

REBECCA: *Bad Acting Alert* Robert, Robert, Robert, he’s taken Seb. The Plot wants us to go now!

CHRISSIE: I’ll drive! A decision that will absolutely not come back to haunt me. #PlotVictim

LACHLAN: Oh I think it will. #LetSerialKillerLachlanRise

[High Speed Chase on a Country Road with Robert, Sebassttteeeiieene, Chrissie, Lachlan, Lawrence and Rebecca]

ROBERT: Hey son, Daddy’s an idiot and sometimes he does really stupid things because he’s not with his husband and the Plot tells him to. But I love you. *Turns Right*

BACKSEAT DRIVERS: *Bad Acting Alert*

CHRISSIE: Lachlan are you okay? You look scarily calm.

LACHLAN: I’m finally channeling my inner psycho. I’ll be okay soon enough.

CHRISSIE: Which way should I go?

REBECCA: Left, definitely left. I know Robert soooo well!

CHRISSIE: *Turns Right*

REBECCA: Why’d you do that?! Don’t you trust my judgement when it comes to Robert?

CHRISSIE: Uh, no. And the Plot has decided to acknowledge that Robert and I had a connection once until you showed up on screen. But it’s my day, so shut up and let me get on with it.

ROBERT: *Tense and Panicked Face*

SEBASSTTITTIEENENE: *Chillin* #MightTakeANap

CHRISSIE: *Sees Robert Ahead* #Vindicated

*White Sisters Argue For The Last Time* #AboutTime

LAWRENCE: How did Robert possibly know about our Super Top Secret Plot?!?! We were soooo careful!

REBECCA: It was you Lachlan, wasn’t it? Not all of us who had multiple conversations about it in full view of the public. I just assumed they didn’t care enough about us to notice us anymore. *Bad Acting Alert* Faster Chrissie!

CHRISSIE: Lachlan, I’m still concerned about how you’re acting. Did you see Belle?

LACHLAN: *Holds Plot Phone* *Means to ignore Gerry’s call*

CHRISSIE: *Gets sudden Plot urge to stroke Lachlan’s fingers*

LACHLAN: *Accidentally does the future Plot a favor and calls Gerry*

[The Mill with Aaron and Gerry]

GERRY: *Ignores the Plot calling* You go Gerry, baby!

AARON: Did you just call yourself baby? I really don’t know why I let you live here.

GERRY: *Crashes Car* #Foreshadowing

PSYCHIC AARON: Crash and burn baby! #FORESHADOWING

[High Speed Chase on a Country Road with Robert, Sebassttteeeiieene, Chrissie, Lachlan, Lawrence and Rebecca]

LACHLAN: I know all about the Plot mum.

CHRISSIE: Wait, what? That’s not supposed to happen. But, look, it’s for your own good. Everything I’ve ever done for you has been for your own good. That’s why you turned out like this.

REBECCA: *Bad Acting Alert* But what about my Plot!!!

CHRISSIE: I love you more than anything in the world Lucky. And that level of love and letting you get away with everything has absolutely not been detrimental to you character.

LACHLAN: You know what we need right now? Some creepy poetry. #LachlansPoetryJam

LAWRENCE: *Bad Acting Alert* Uhh sorry, can we focus on the Plot at hand, please!

LACHLAN: *Recites Creepy Poem* #LachlansPoetryJam

REBECCA: *Bad Acting Alert* But, this is still about MY PLOT! *Cries Inadequately*

CHRISSIE: I was a great mother, Lachlan. Everything I did was your for your own good. But I’m touched you remember my creepy poetry. #MotherOfTheYear

LACHLAN: *Recites More Creepy Poetry*

LAWRENCE: Can this poetry reading wait until we’re in Australia?

LACHLAN: *Psycho Voice* We’re not going to Australia. Don’t you get it, you’re all the monsters. And I have to make all the monsters disappear. *Screams* *Grabs the wheel*

LAWRENCE: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! #Iconic

*Screaming*

*Lorry Driver hits the Whites* #TrueHero

ROBERT: *Slams on brakes* *Shocked Face* *I made a mistake Face* #UnintendedConsequences #IShouldHaveSeenThisComing

[Crash Site with Robert, Lachlan, Dying Chrissie, Unconscious Rebecca, Dead Lawrence and Sebastteieenneee]

*Disclaimer: No Lorry Drivers were harmed in the making of this stunt* - for the fans

ROBERT: *Still Shocked Face*

SEBASTTTTIEENNNE: *Cries* *Still Exists*

ROBERT: *Human Mode Activate* - for the fans - *Calls Ambulance* #CharacterGrowth

DEAD LAWRENCE: *Is dead* #Payback

ROBERT: *Panicked Face* It’s a really bad accident that I am in no way responsible for. #UnintendedConsequences

ROBERT: *Human Mode On Overdrive* *Runs to Rebecca first because she’s the mother of the baby chilling in his backseat*

LACHLAN: *I think I just killed my mum Face*

*Robert and Lachlan have a weird hug moment as Robert pulls him from the car*

LACHLAN: Where’s Granddad?

DEAD LAWRENCE: *Still dead*

ROBERT: I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.

LACHLAN: *It’s really not, I was going to do it anyway Face* Standing over his dead body is different to how I thought it would be. I’ve only been imagining it for years. #LetSerialKillerLachlanRise #TheresStillTime

ROBERT: What happened?

LACHLAN: The Plot will never let me admit that.

DYING CHRISSIE: *Still alive*

ROBERT: *Soft Human Voice* It’s gonna be okay Chrissie, just try and hang on. Just think about yourself.

LACHLAN: The ambulance is coming soon.

CHRISSIE: Are you sure you’re not just going to kill me?

LACHLAN: *The Plot’s not sure yet Face*

[The Woolpack with Victoria, Diane, Gerry and Belle]

VICTORIA: I can’t believe Robert hasn’t called me back after kidnapping his son! How rude!

*Belle and Gerry show up*

VICTORIA: Hey Belle, you haven’t seen Lachlan have you? He’s part of the White’s Plot and I need an update.

BELLE: No, I’m trying my hardest to get out of that Plot.

DIANE: Doesn’t Rob have his mediation today?

VICTORIA: Oh he’s way past the mediation stage? See, he kidnapped Seb...now I know what you’re thinking Diane, but it’s only so Rebecca couldn’t also kidnap him and take him off to Australia.

DIANE: I’m sorry, what is this Plot you’re dragging me into?

VICTORIA: I promise it’s not as stupid as it sounds!

DIANE: *This is going to go SOOO wrong Face*

[Crash Site with Robert, Lachlan, Dying Chrissie, Unconscious Rebecca, Dead Lawrence and Sebastteieenneee]

LACHLAN: *Casually Victim Blames*

ROBERT: *Has a sweet Chrobert moment to remind the audience that they were once a thing and the Plot hasn’t completely forgotten that* *Strokes Chrissie’s Cheek* You just have to hang on a little longer, okay? *Pained Face*

DYING CHRISSIE: *Still dying*

ROBERT: *Has crowbar* I have to get Rebecca out because she’s the mother of my child. That’s the only reason I care at all.

UNCONSCIOUS REBECCA: *Bleeds*

ROBERT: Oh god #UnintendedConsequences

DYING CHRISSIE: *Still Dying*

*Dying Chrissie and Lachlan have some touching mother/son time where she once again insists that she was a great mother and Lachlan tells her that her dad is dead*

LACHLAN: *Feels guilty*

DYING CHRISSIE: *Dies* #RIPChrissie

LACHLAN: I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! #ThePlotMadeMeDoIt

ROBERT: *Witnesses the meltdown* *Cogs Turning*

[The Woolpack with Victoria, Diane, Belle and Gerry]

VICTORIA: So...Robert possibly caused an accident because the Whites were trying to get Seb back.

BELLE: Oh no, suddenly I want to be in this Plot again. I was almost free.

GERRY: I like to be involved in everything. I’m coming too.

DIANE: *I expected this Face*

[Hotten General with Robert, Sebasttttieeene, Unconscious Rebecca, Victoria, Diane, Belle, Gerry, Lachlan and Alex]

ROBERT: Oh no it’s the audition scene!

UNCONSCIOUS REBECCA: *Still unconscious*

VICTORIA: Oh good the BABY is safe! - wow it’s been a while -

BELLE: What about my part of the Plot? Where’s Lachlan?

ROBERT: No clue. He came in the other ambulance. I was too focused on Seb’s mum, Unconscious Rebecca. She looked really awful.

DIANE: And Chrissie and Lawrence?

ROBERT: Dead. #UnintendedConsequences *Cries*

*Cut to Lachlan’s miraculous private room*

THE ONLY DOCTOR IN THE DALES: Hi, I’m Alex, the only doctor in the Dales. *Blah Blah Medical Jargon* Is there anyone you’d like us to call?

LACHLAN: Half my family is dead, you insensitive jerk.

BELLE: Oh Lachlan, I still care about our Plot together. Oh hi Alex,

THE ONLY DOCTOR IN THE DALES: Hi Belle. Remember that one time we met because your dad had a chest infection just so I could show off my perfect doctoring skills and impress Aaron’s family? Oh and that other time we met when I invited myself to yours for Christmas. Anyway, I’ve served my purpose in reminding the audience that I am in fact a doctor, so I’ll see myself out now.

BELLE: Oh Lachlan, it’s good that you’ve got Alex as your doctor cause he’s really nice. It’s literally his only characteristic besides being a doctor. #TowingThePartyLine

LACHLAN: Half my family are dead and all you can go on about is how nice Dr Alex is?!?

GERRY: *Makes an inappropriate comment*

BELLE: You don’t have to tell us about the Plot now…

LACHLAN: *Lies about the Plot* #EverythingIsMyMumsFault

*Back in the waiting room*

VICTORIA: Baby!

DIANE: It’s a blessing he’s still a baby and has no idea what the Plot even is.

ROBERT: Excuse me! I had a Plot like this when I was just a baby and let me tell you, it still affects you later on. People feel sorry for you and you only know half of who you are. #CharacterDevelopment #NeverForgetPatSugden

VICTORIA: This is not the time for old Plot revelations! Rebecca’s not dead yet! There’s no way she’s going to leave her son behind. Cause she’s Seb’s Mother and that’s it.

DIANE: Let’s hope you’re right, Love. #SpeakingForPartOfTheFandom

ANOTHER DOCTOR IN THE DALES: #SuckItAlex Unconscious Rebecca is still unconscious. She'll be in a coma until the Plot needs her again.

ROBERT: I can’t believe I actually was this stupid. Wait, scratch that, I should blame you for letting me be this stupid.

VICTORIA: Are you kidding me? I told you to think about it properly!

ROBERT: Well not loud enough. You’re not Aaron. You’re not proper impulse control for me. #IMissMyHusband And now look what’s happened! #UnintendedConsequences

DIANE: I’m sure he didn’t mean it. *Goes to find Robert*

ROBERT: *Human Robert Still Activated* Yeah I know, I was out of line. #Progress #CharacterGrowth

DIANE: It’s okay, Victoria hardly takes you seriously.

ROBERT: I just don’t understand how this Plot turned out like this. Chrissie just swerved into an oncoming truck. Unless… *Detective Mode Activate* Maybe Lachlan did it.

DIANE: That’s crazy!

ROBERT: And so is Lachlan. I think he did something. I think he might have caused the accident. #DetectiveRobertOnTheCase

Welcome to the 12th instalment of the “Garmsman Dozen” question and answer session. The response so far has been tremendous. Did you miss earlier ones? There are links at the end of the page.

This week we welcome to the Garmsman Dozen Iain Trickett from Great Britain!

Who are you, where do you live and what interests you?

My name is Iain Trickett, 31, and I am the head honcho at TRiCKETT England… Well, I am the only honcho actually. I live in Accrington, Lancashire where the pies are plentiful and the skies are grey. When I’m not making clothes or thinking about clothing, I am found looking at Californian Tattooists, researching British subcultures, listening to hip-hop and walking my dogs.

Thinking back to your childhood, what were your most memorable or favourite clothes?

From a very, very young age, I was obsessed with sportswear and in particular training shoes. My mother was really into trainers and bought me my very first pair of Nike Air Jordans at the age of 4. As my interests developed I become interested in sporting apparel and the performance, however, the two items that set me off on a voyage into fashion or clothing were the Newcastle 1995-97 home shirt by Adidas and the LA Gear Gretzky One street hockey trainers.

First, the Newcastle shirt was just beautiful. The team that wore it was one of the great ‘could’ve been’ teams and the period that the shirt was introduced was a great period for sportswear design. The shirt featured a granddad collar, alternate mesh and solid polyester black and white stripes, piping on the three stripes and the infamous Newcastle Brown Ale logo. This item proved that football shirts were just for the pitch, but also fashion items that would be worn after the turnstiles closed.

The Gretzky shoes were something that I imagine went into a metaphorical sportswear landfill. Manufactured by the now defunct LA Gear, these shoes were unlike anything I had ever seen before. I used to visit Florida quite regularly with my parents as my mum had a great Aunt that lived in Clearwater. Most days were spent sat outside, basking in the sun. For a child under 10, this isn’t the most fun you could have, so my dad bought me copies of Sports Illustrated and other American sports magazines to keep me occupied. It was world unlike any I had ever seen and one person who stood out was a Canadian fellow wearing a pair of black and white boots with a #99 on the side. I later learned that this was the great Wayne Gretzky, who had just made his unpopular switch to the LA Kings. The boots themselves were pretty unremarkable, mesh and leather mixed together with some traditional hockey skate laces and the great one’s signature and number on the side. The shoes themselves were by no means a piece to keep in the memory of the sporting collector, but for me, it represented a gateway to a world I have never seen before.

How would you describe your style today, and what are your influences?

When I was younger, I used to listen to DJ Shadow, I always admired how he could take bits and pieces from all over the place and put it all together to create one coherent piece. I am not for a minute saying that what I do compares to the great Shadow, but I would say that I like to be influenced by all kinds of things. I am obsessed with Italy and Italian elegance, for me it isn’t necessarily having a suit made entirely hand in a tiny Sartoria down a backstreet in Napoli, or that weird sprezzatura thing that was cool a few years ago, it is more about being comfortable in your skin and having elegance with it.

I think I will always be obsessed with footwear and I believe dressing from the feet up, you can never go too far wrong. So if I had to describe my style it’s footwear-obsessed, sports-fan, who likes his pasta al dente and his top button done up… that probably makes no sense.

Most garmsmen will have a few “grail items” in their collection. Not to out you, but if your house is burning, which garments do you grab?

I think if my house was burning down, I would think about my new kitchen that is just about to be put in and whether the plinth heater would’ve been worth it in the winter. After a pause, I would make sure that I have my original deadstock pair of Nike Air Jordan Is. They are in a size 10, the original banned colourway and are just waiting to be worn. My plan was to wear them at my wedding, but not being married, they are just waiting for that perfect moment… Maybe my debut in the Accrington Observer.

Are you budget-conscious or spendthrift? Are you a single-shot shopper, or go large and buy bulk? Where are you on slow-fashion and buying less?

I think for many people, getting dressed in a morning is pretty stressful. We are at a point in society where we buy more, have more options and dress much more casually than our parents and certainly, our grandparents do/did. I would like to think that I am the kind of person that buys what I like and for the most part, that tends to be from smaller brands. I do like the idea of buying less and just buying a couple of very expensive suits, but truthfully, I am just not sure that works in the 21st Century. I’d love to be able to turn up to ASDA in Accrington wearing my Rubinacci suit, selecting which bananas best represent who I am, but chances are, I would probably get asked if I worked there. I do think we should make an effort to buy from smaller brands because owning one, I can’t stress to you how many different people are impacted by your £30 you spend with them, rather than oiling a huge conglomerate that doesn’t really care.

Having a large collection of clothes can lead to changing outfit on a daily basis, but if you were going to wear a single outfit the next two weeks, what would it be?

I genuinely believe that you can’t go too far wrong with a varsity jacket (either loads of patches or none, there is no middle ground), a really nice white t-shirt (no curry stains), very, very dark selvedge denim (listen, I am not a denim geek, it is just nicer to wear and everyone likes to see a flick of selvage on their turn-ups) and just a pair of very white leather trainers. In this outfit, you are a bit casual, but at the same time, who wants to be wearing a navy blue suit everywhere they go?

What are your best tips for buying?

If there is one thing that I have learned over the years of buying and designing clothes it’s buying stuff that fits. I know that seems like an obvious thing to say, but it really does help. I went through a phase of wanting to dress like a skinhead, the look is so incredibly iconic and its a really clean aesthetic. However, I know, now, that my shape doesn’t suit that style, I am very, very broad and not well endowed in the shin department so I just end up looking like a square in more ways than one. So my advice is, get something you feel comfortable in and then take it to a tailor, it’s their job to make you look good.

Big lads, don’t buy baggy stuff, you just end up looking worse and for goodness sake you don’t need shoulder pads in your jackets, go get them taken out. Napoli is great for many things, but in particular for making the natural shoulder in suit jackets cool. Forza Napoli Sempre.

Anyone that buys clothes will have made mistakes, what is your most memorable bad buy?

I have been lucky enough to work with Patrick Grant of E. Tautz and Community Clothing fame. One of the more famous items of clothing that he has in the lineup is the field trousers. A wide legged pair of kecks (that’s Lancastrian for pants) that are based on trousers that Naval officers would in the ‘40s and ‘50s. They look very elegant when worn with converse and swish from side to side in almost a hypnotic way. They look great… That is until you are wearing them in TESCO in Accrington only for an old man to say ‘Thas looks like a pillock in them ‘owd lad.’ I nodded in agreement, sadly I am not built like a model and the 42 rolls at the hems did nothing for the shape.

Do you have any style icons, historic or current?

I like to pinch bits from lots of peoples style, so I am sorry if this turns into a massive long list.

Sid Mashburn – his shop and Southern (American) charm are something that you always feel like he is wearing. One of the only two men I know that can wear white jeans convincingly. He also likes Italian tailoring and American football, so he is OK with me.

Alessandro Squarzi – A chap who can seemingly throw on any old thing and look absolutely amazing, I much preferred him with a shaved head, but that is probably because I am follically challenged. He is also the second person I admire who can wear white jeans convincingly.

Lino Ieluzzi – Milan just wouldn’t be the same without this bloke, great hair, great suits and great labradors. I literally don’t know what else you could want from life.

LeBron James – LeBron has literally made wearing his trousers too short in the leg his trademark. Obviously being a basketball player there isn’t much ready-to-wear that would fit him in the leg, but he always manages to produce a certain air of elegance about him.

My Uncle Peter – Only ever wore a rugby shirt and chinos. Every. Single. Day. I admire anymore who has an almost cartoon character-like wardrobe and sticks to it.

My mum and dad – Both have very different views on clothes and how to wear them, but both are passionate about what the put on and that is really all that matters.

Does your interest in clothes influence other aspects of your life?

Clothing does mean a great deal to me and I think most subcultures like to dress up. Be it new Romantics, skinheads, Teddy Boys whatever, I don’t think you can be into clothes without liking the things around it. However, my obsession with all things American and Italian pretty much means that I spend any free time I get there. Whether it is seeking exceptionally old shops in Italy or finding a brand new trainer shop in LA, travelling for clothing and discovery of the cities and towns is, for me, the best part. The internet has so many great uses, but it has slightly killed this adventures. However, there are still a few hidden gems that are on the list, that I am not telling you about!

How do you see your style evolving going forwards?

I think style is the appreciation of beautiful things. I always used to get caught up with the notion that style had to be something of the moment or it had to be something that was a set of rules set by other ‘stylish’ people. I think style is the word we use just for the stuff we like. Sometimes the stuff we like makes us cool and other times it can make us very uncool. However, I think as long as we are appreciating beauty whether that is food, art, clothing, whatever that can only improve our style. I hope my style evolves and my interests develop, I have an insatiable appetite for learning and I can’t see that changing.

Do you have a good style or garment based story?

When I was much younger, I absolutely loved Bape (a Bathing Ape), my friend and I were obsessed with this picture of the Notorious B.I.G wearing a camouflage jacket with ape’s head floating around in it. On the front placket it had A BATHING APE in bold lettering, so we set about finding out where we could get it. To cut a very long story short, we found a tiny shop in London where Bape was sold. We pooled all our money together for the tickets, bunked off school, bought the jacket, came home, feeling like we really had achieved something only for my dad to be waiting on the platform when we returned. I still don’t know to this day how he found out and whats even worse is that I never really wore the jacket much that me and my pal bought together. He was Blackburn Rovers fan. Says it all really.

Thank you for your Garmsman Dozen Iain!

Iain’s website is at trickett-england.co.uk and his Instagram is @trickettengland

Did you miss the first Garmsman Dozens?

Jon from Great Britain

Shaun from Scotland

Klaus from Germany

Roland from Italy

Daniel from Sweden

Enoch from the USA

Even from Norway

Kris from Belgium

Michael from Great Britain

Liam from Great Britain

Lee from Great Britain

PS: If you have suggestions for participants, let me know. Or have your mother suggest you, if you’re a bit keen to suggest yourself. My email is WellDressedDad (@) gmail.com

The Garmsman Dozen #12: Iain from Great Britain (Trickett_England) #trickett #garmsmandozen #mensfashion #madeinengland #accrington #lancashire #mensstyle #menswear #sportswear #vintage #retro Welcome to the 12th instalment of the "Garmsman Dozen" question and answer session. The response so far has been tremendous.

Dizzy, the Early Years

Born as the war was coming to a close, Dizzy is the middle of 3 daughters. Grandad, a proud Lancashire Lad, was away in The Signals, doing his part for the war effort & Nan, Motherwell Matriarch, was a stay at home mum. We joke that if the war had continued there would have been a much bigger family; Grandad returned from leave 3 times, leaving Nan with a ‘Bun in the Oven!’  

Like many veterans, he was reticent to talk about his experience; only choosing to tell us his job was to lay down the communication system before troops moved into an area. Nan didn’t have time to work! When she wasn’t cooking one in the oven and running a house single handed, she was next door, at my great grandparents, helping her parents! Both he and Nan came from large families. I had over 40 great-aunts and uncles, counting their spouses. I may not remember them all, but I do remember the feeling of family closeness and laughter, lots of laughter! On Nan’s side, it was like ‘Mrs Brown’s Boys' on turbo settings and on Granddad’s side, it was less raucous, but an amazing talent of being able to ‘spin a good yarn' with such a dry sense of humour!

Mum talks about her childhood with such warmth and affection, apart from resenting she always got the hand me downs, whilst her 2 sister's got everything new, “Middle Child Syndrome”! Sadly, mum grew up being told, by her teachers, that she was stupid and illiterate! Dyslexia didn’t exist back then! It made her disruptive in school and totally switched off to learning. Her favourite word, apparently, was, “Why?” Back in an era where children were seen and not heard, she and Granddad would regularly be at loggerheads. Mum always the loser, sometimes with a fat lip for her efforts! So it was hardly surprising when she married as soon as she could, in an effort to escape her strict upbringing.

Sadly, mum swapped her authoritative dad for a manipulative wife beater! Not to begin with of course, that controlling side took a short time to develop. In an age where wives stayed at home, mum would be out working full-time to pay his gambling debts. As an added bonus, she would be punished because there wasn’t a hot meal waiting for him, when he got in from work! They also had problems conceiving, another reason for a ‘quick slap'! But sadly, both their bodies were working against them. Mum’s bits produced too many chemicals that would destroy his little swimmers and he couldn’t produce enough little swimmers, and those he did produce needed a sat nav to find their destination! So, although I call him my ‘Sperm Donor’ he wasn’t! I will never know who was! I was conceived in a petri dish in Harley Street, London, at the cost of £2000 in 1970s prices. A secretive procedure back then, Artificial Insemination by a Donor, I am the result of a quick one of the wrist! All I do know is, as a controversial procedure, donors weren’t exactly queuing up, so it tended to be other medical professionals that donated their services. (Shame I didn’t inherit the clever gene!)  

As I’ve said, it was a secretive procedure and frowned upon as it was creating Frankenstein babies ... now I know why I’m so twisted!! They had to swear, on a bible, that my parentage would never be revealed, although by law I had to be registered with the ‘father unknown' label on my birth certificate ! Erm, hello ... do you not think that might raise suspicion?? And, as my exes would probably agree with, technically I was a Bastard, not a term discussed in polite society back then! So Mum was now baking her own bun and received 9 months of peace from his fists, not his verbal abuse though. He never let her forget it was HER failings that made them do what they did. That man, and I use that term in the biological sense only, was a master of manipulation.  Mum genuinely believed it was all her fault, she was stupid, she was inferior!  

Anyway, this has gotten far too serious, so let’s resume normal service! Mum couldn’t wait for her bump to show. Sadly, we think I’m made of plain, not self-raising flour; as mum was almost 8 months pregnant before it was evident! After almost a decade of trying to conceive, even her mummy tummy was letting her down! Her eldest sister, cooking baby number 7, and younger sister on baby number 2, were the size of buses ... so was mum, only hers was Corgi toy size! Finally, after many hours of labour (the number varies) I came into the world. I’m not saying I was ugly, but they had to slap the midwife! Simply put, I was over baked. I had layers of dead skin caked onto me! But mum thought I was beautiful, thank goodness at least someone did! Her friends would come to visit her in the hospital, sneak a peek and recoil, trying to hide their horror! Eventually, the dead skin came away, and I resembled human form! A thoughtful baby, apparently I always waited until Mum was pulling up the covers to sleep before opening my foghorn lungs! Unable to breast feed, mum would be sitting there bottle feeding me, being told what a failure she was, she couldn’t even feed her down child properly and that maybe it would be better if he just took me away to a better family! It’s a miracle she ever bonded with me!

Looking back through my rose tinted child glasses, they have much thinner lenses than the ones worn today, life seemed idyllic. It seemed to consist of school, where I was labelled a swot, playing out with my friends and Enid Blyton! Despite her fear of the written word, mum instilled a love of books into me. Apparently, when I was a baby I had cloth books for the pram and water proof books for the bath. She was determined I wasn’t going to grow up with her phobia. Unaware at the time, mum had rote learned a ladybird book, “Telling the Time” and would read it to me at bed time. She confidently sat there holding the book and turning the pages at all the right times, “At 7 o’clock we all rise, to stretch, and rub our sleepy eyes.” ...

... ... ... ...

Sorry, had to stop for a minute there, my eyes have started leaking! Wow! Didn’t realise that was such a powerful memory, anyone know a good plumber?  

She was so clever, if I had a different book, she would ask me to read it to her, and I would mimic what I had learned from her. I was totally oblivious to her fear, but more importantly her sheer strength and determination. Not to be outdone, he drummed the times tables into me. He thought because I knew what 12 x 12 was at the age of 4, that he was the victor. But he wasn’t, I LOVED books, and 12 x 12 was just like a poem that you recite over and over again. It had no meaning, whereas I could pick up a newspaper and tell him that Star Trek WAS on, even though he’d said it wasn’t, to get me to bed early! He said I was lying, until I read the blurb in the TV listings! It’s probably the only time I remember getting a ‘good hiding’ from him. Looking back with adult eyes, to him, it was probably the equivalent of mum telling him HE was in the wrong, and I had to be put in my place!

I’m not saying I thought mum was perfect back then, far from it! Mum was strict, NO meant NO and please & thank you came as standard, not an optional extra! We had a 1, 2, 3 rule ... if I didn’t do as I was told by the time she got to 3, my arse knew about it! And I’m not saying I wasn’t defiant either, I soon learned that I could get away with waiting until she got to, “Thhhhhhh,” so long as she didn’t get to the, “Reeeeeeee” part I was ok! And I also learned that if mum said no, a few tears to him, got me what I wanted. I didn’t know that by telling tales like that, mum was given a good hiding, once I was in bed! What a selfish, spoiled brat I was!

At the age of 7, the year of Grease, Olivia Neutron Bomb and John Travolting, we moved to Blackpool! I dreamt of sun, sand and an endless supply of rock! Who knew there were schools and even bad weather? Trust me, beaches soon get boring, you can sicken yourself on rock and Blackpool in the closed season is like the Antarctic! We went into partnership with Mum’s childhood friend and her husband. We ran a 9 bedroomed guest house, 109 Albert Road, aka Durham House. Life was far from the idyllic dream I had imagined!  The men worked a window cleaning round and Mum and her best friend seemed to be constantly in the kitchen cooking, or making beds! A far cry from the luxury bedrooms our guests had, we slept in the cellar! The only natural light came from the glass tiles in the roof, that was often punctuated with the feet of people walking by above, at street level.  

That’s also where I learned that kids could be so cruel. Poor mum saw this only child, spoiled brat being a prize bitch, she didn’t see the slaps, pinches and name calling that can be so devastating to a child’s confidence! The bullying was always at its peak during meal times, as all the grown-ups were busy looking after the guests. I developed, what today would be called a psychosomatic illness, basically I smelt the food cooking and I would throw up! Bring rushed off her feet, mum would make me sit on the back doorstep, throwing up into the outside drain. It sounds gross, but it was my haven, until bedtime! Obviously, being a kid, I saw mum as a graceful swan, cooking a million meals effortlessly, I didn’t see the frantic paddling her feet were doing below the water. The so called best friends were scamming the business and eventually it all went tits up! So he moved back to Coventry first, with the premise of getting a job and finding us a place to live. Mum and I moved in with a friend, so I could see the school year out in Blackpool. Bratty me could only see that I'd ‘lost' the nice parent and had to live in this hellhole with the strict one!  

I was totally unaware that, instead of getting everything ready for our return, he was living with Nan and Granddad, visiting prostitutes and gambling away the little money that was salvaged from the business. So my dream of returning to our privately owned 3 bed semi turned into the nightmare of a 4th floor council flat, no garden, no friends, yeah I was a selfish brat! That flat continued my awakening to how cruel life can be. That’s where I witnessed my mum slide down a wall after a swift punch, it's where I saw my mum finally snap and almost break his shoulder blade with a steak tenderiser and it's where I discovered I was a Bastard!  

Fearful of anything legal or official, mum had stuck to oath she had sworn 9 years ago. She had been mortified when instead of the, ‘Father Unknown’ that should have been on my birth certificate, he had registered my birth alone and naming himself as my legal father. I can still hear her pleas as she begged him ‘not to’ as he uttered the words, ‘I'm not your dad.’ He had an impeccable sense of timing too, it was the same night I discovered my dear great aunt had died! He failed to tell me the full facts, leaving me to assume mum had been unfaithful. I was at the age where sex had something to do with boys having pencils and girls had pencil sharpeners, so simply I thought mum had sharpened someone else’s pencil! Bless her, I bet she never thought she would be having ‘that’ conversation, whilst explaining the science behind it, whilst nursing a dislocated jaw!  

Expecting me to take his side, with his half truth, he was floored at my reaction! I remember feeling so angrily empowered and grown up, telling him, at the age of 8, that he couldn’t tell ME what to do, he wasn’t my Dad! I was then floored, literally at his response, my cheek stung for an age! Oh and by the way, this was Christmas Eve! I suppose my under reaction to Christmas today, has a lot to do with that time! I don’t remember much about that Christmas Day, other than a deathly silence and an atmosphere thicker than the Cabinet Room at No10, after the last election! I do remember Boxing Day though! Mum wasn't there when I woke up, and me and him went to visit my cousin! I thought nothing of it, when he and my cousins went to the pub. I thought it was exciting because Tina, my cousins wife, was teaching me to knit! Kids are so fickle! I was unaware that instead of the pub, they had in fact been at the flat, changing the locks! We returned home later to an empty flat and Mum STILL wasn't home the next day either! He told me she had phoned to say she wasn’t coming back! Like a prat, I believed him!  

I dreaded going back to school, because the first thing we would have to do was write our ‘news'. I remember staring at the blank page, trying to make up some magical story to compete with the other kids! I didn’t want my real news shared! I’m not sure what happened next, but I do remember a tear spreading out on my blank page and being quietly lead away to the Head Mistresses’ office. Waiting patiently in there was MUM!!!! In between my sobs, she explained how she had gone out Boxing Day morning to ask a friend, if mum and I could move in with her, until something better could be organised and on her return, the locks had been changed. Long  story short, the school would not let me leave before home time. I had to then ‘chose’ if I would cross the road to my aunts house and wait for him, or leave through the office and out to Mum, waiting in Grandad’s car! How thoughtful of the school to put such an immense responsibility on an 8 year old child! That day was a blur! I couldn’t wait to leave with mum! We were off on an adventure! Blow you Famous Five, The Terrific Two had their own stories to discover.