
@theartofmadeline

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@spencerlinford
Alright, fine. I know how to have a good time, Spencer. You act as if I’m some deprived teenager, which— okay, arguably, is accurate but I mean… I’ve been drunk, Spencer. That may or may not’ve been a factor in conceiving my child, so… But I guess I trust you. Not wholly, but enough.
Excuse you! First off, you totally trust me. 100%. You wouldn't leave me alone with Ella if you didn't. Second, you've been drunk before, but you haven't been drunk with me. There's a difference in drinking with Evan or Cory, and being drunk with me. Everything is way more fun with me. So, hurry up and find a babysitter so I can take you out.
Yeah, yeah. Not that many bad choices. I’m not getting arrested tonight. And neither are you; I’m not bailing you out of jail. If I am, it’ll be in the morning when I’m sober.
I'm not a jail sort of girl, Brons. Look at me. While I'd totally kick ass, do you know how many lesbians would give their right tit to be with me? Yeah, no, we're not going there. We are totally going to make some non-jail worthy bad decisions, though. Just wait, Donnelly. I'm going to show you have to have a fucking good time, then deliver you safe and sound to your precious angel of a daughter.
Bronson smiled and glanced down at Ella at her mentioning. “Photogenic? Definitely. I mean, unless she’s crying. Which is a good portion of the time. You’re lucky that’s not now.” He smirked a bit and settled into the couch, enjoying the feeling of his arms being free. Absently, he placed his hand against Ella’s arm, his index finger running along the sleeve of her onesie as he listened to Spencer. “You really don’t," Bronson agreed sarcastically, smiling at her. "There is not one human being on this planet that you can tolerate. Not even me. And especially not babies. Forget it."
He raised his eyebrows as Spencer started to curse, but she caught herself. He chuckled, nodding as if to tell her nice save, and sunk into the couch a bit. It wasn’t a comfy couch or anything, but damn, it felt like heaven in that moment. He stayed kind of quiet at her final statement. He couldn’t relate to a distant relationship from his mother. He was pretty attached to his mom, having being dubbed a ‘mama’s boy’ several times. She babied him like there was no tomorrow, and she didn’t go a day without talking to him. Sure, that was mostly because of the baby, but Ella only brought them closer. “How’s your sister?” Bronson asked in a soft voice. “You think she’d ever, uh… move out of there too?”
"Ella cries?" Spencer blinked up at Bronson in mock surprise. "I didn't know small babies cried. Please, Brons, tell me more about these mythical creatures. Do they pee and poop, too?" Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm, but a grin broke out across her features a moment later. Bronson took her sarcastic nature in stride, which was one of her favorite things about him. He didn't bitch at her when sass rolled off her tongue so easily. He took it, rolled his eyes, and replied with something just as sarcastic. She loved it. "I'm pretty sure that's what everyone here thinks," she commented, shifting towards him so she could gently elbow him in the side. "Besides, you and Ella are a rare exception. Her level of adorable makes you a lot easier to tolerate." Spencer grinned, leaning into his side a little as she continued to rock Ella gently in her arms.
Her smile faded at his question. She didn't like talking about her family, but there wasn't really a point in trying to hide anything from Bronson. He knew all about her situation at home. Even when he turned up on her doorstep the night he found out Faith was pregnant, she was forced to deal with some of the shit their mother put them through. She'd hastily apologized and fled from the room to stop the yelling the moment she heard her mother set in on Ari, returning a few minutes later with a flippant excuse and a refusal to talk about what happened - even if he totally overheard every word. The night was about him, though, and she wasn't about to take away from his problem by discussing hers. Now, though... things were different. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Arianna has way more faith in our mother than I do. She swears she's going to end up getting her life back on track." Spencer sighed, turning her gaze on Ella so he wouldn't see the worried look in her eyes. "I think I've spent so long protecting her from Mom's shit. She doesn't realize how bad she gets when she runs out of Percocet or Xanax." She paused and pursed her lips. "Maybe this will teach her. I'm just really scared about leaving her alone with that woman."
I’m not that bad.
I’ll work on finding a sitter. But only for, like, a few hours. And not wasted enough that I’ll wake the baby up when I come home.
YES!
WE'RE GOING TO MAKE SO MANY BAD CHOICES. It's going to great. Fuck yeah.
I’ll try not to be offended by that. Or somehow prove you wrong.
I’m glad that there’s actually something I’m good for.
You can try. You'll fail, but you're welcome to try.
We all have our talents in life, Evan. Even you.
Who the fuck cares. Point is, I’m not boring.
I'm pretty sure your perpetually monotone voice speaks otherwise, Lena. Feel free to try to prove otherwise, though.
From what I recall, I’ve never gotten wasted with you, Spence. I’m not sure I’m ready for you to see that.
I think I can handle it, Donnelly. Come oooon. Drink with me. It'll be fun.
So I could just watch you get drunk? Hmm, that’s so tempting. I mean, it’s between that and changing dirty diapers so, I’m really torn.
Oh, I'm all for getting you trashed. If you're up for it, I can seriously fuck you up. Come with me, Brons. Be a teenager for once.
I’m in, as long as you know that if you ever refer to me as a boring bitch ever again, I’ll make sure you’ll be the bored one.
That doesn't even make sense, Lena.
I don’t know if I qualify as a boring bitch, but I’m always down for an alcohol run.
You definitely qualify as a boring bitch.
But you can come. I appreciate your taste in alcohol, if nothing else.
I wouldn’t mind. It’s better than Friends reruns I’ve already seen a million times.
You can come if you promise not to be totally fuckin' lame and make Friends references all night.
I’d ask about the phone call, but I’m sure the response would be shut the fuck up Bronson stop prying into my life damn just because you have a cute baby doesn’t mean you can stick your nose up in my business. So… try vodka and cran lemonade. Good stuff. It’ll screw you over pretty well, too, if you’re looking for that kind of thing.
You know me so well.
You know, you could drop Ella off with one of the countless friends we have in this building and come with me. Even if you don't want to get fucked up, you could listen to my uncontrollable ranting when I pour enough alcohol into my system.
I'm going to need about six bottles of Vodka to forget about that stupid fucking phone call. Which one of you boring bitches wants to go on an alcohol run with me? As if getting to spend time with my sparkling personality weren't enough, I can guarantee you a night of bad choices and fucking awesome mixed drinks. Let's do this shit.
That night, when Bronson found out Faith was pregnant, he was barely thinking straight. It was like his feet lead him to Spencer’s door. He knew the girl could physically and verbally beat Faith up, but he didn’t ask for it. As mad as he was at her for wanting to get an abortion without a second thought, it was her body. Bronson shouldn’t’ve had a say in it at all, in regards to her body, but he was persistent. Something inside of him was telling him to fight for something for once. Don’t let her do something just so you can keep her around because you think you love her. Turns out, he didn’t love Faith. He had never loved a girl before in his life, he learned, until he laid eyes on Ella. As cliche as that was, he loved the girl endlessly.
Bronson smiled sheepishly as Spencer complimented him, his eyes still glued to the baby in her arms. He leaned down, grabbing one of Ella’s feet and blowing a raspberry on it, resulting in a smile and some excuse of a laugh. “Yeah, I guess we’re doing okay,” he shrugged, his smile evident on his face. “You might have to send hourly texts and the occasional picture if you watch her. I hope you know that.” Bronson looked up at Spencer and smirked at her. “Here. Go sit, stay a while,” the boy told her while grabbing the bag from behind her. He moved some of the stuff on the couch and helped Spencer sit. “So you’re all moved in and everything? Everything’s good?”
Spencer laughed and nodded her head. Bronson was protective over Ella, and who could blame him? He had gone through so much to even have this precious angel with him. Anyone would be protective over a baby as sweet as her. "Of course," she agreed, following him to the couch and waiting patiently for him to clear off a spot. It seemed like there were baby things everywhere, which was probably better than the collection of boxes littering her living room. "I'm always up for taking pictures of this kid. She's probably super photogenic, huh?"
His question caused her to fall silent for just a moment. Their apartment situation certainly wasn't flawless, but it worked. She was happy to live with Cory and Elijah, because they were two of the only people she could handle living with long term. Bronson or Georgia, maybe, but Cory was perhaps the only person she could actually share a room with. "It's okay," she shrugged, focusing her attention on Ella as she took the seat offered to her. "I can't get them to help me unpack everything, so we have a lot of boxes laying around on our floor." She rolled her eyes. "Elijah and I haven't been getting along as well as usual, but is that a surprise? I don't get along with anyone." The last sentence was spoken a little more softly and with a sigh, her arms swaying just a little to keep Ella pacified. "I'm not worried about it, though. I'm just so fuc - freaking happy to be out of my mom's house."