#ttpt

[kaylor-era]

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to. To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams.

"Fresh Out the Slammer" (2024)

Karlie: "Taylor is like the American Dream." Taylor: "Salute to me, like the American Dream."

"King of my heart" (2017)

She is back in prison, but still.... 😂🙊🙈

[mostweakhamlets]

Tedious Turning of Pages and Toys

Chapter eight: 

Saturday

Crowley had told Eden to take a bath after his phone call with Zira. She had whined and begged for five minutes to play with her new toys, but Crowley grabbed her from under her arms and carried her into the bathroom himself.

“It’s not even bedtime,” she said. “I’ll just get dirty again.”

“That’s a problem for future us. Use as much bubble bath as you want.”

Her water was drawn with a mountain of foam, and Crowley sat across from the door right in time for Zira to walk in.

He smiled sheepishly as he hovered in the doorway, but his smile faded slowly when Crowley crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“I’m sorry,” Zira said.

“I don’t ask you for a lot.”

Zira sat down, wringing his hands. He spoke quietly. Cautiously. “Can I try to explain what happened?”

“Not until I lecture you.”

“Alright.”

read the rest on AO3

[natreviewsbooks]

Super in love with this book, and I honestly can't say enough about it. Rarely do I identify so well with book characters... And even rarer that I feel like a lot of a character's struggles essentially hold a mirror to my own. I found myself in tears from beginning to end. Add this to your tbr! So glad to be part of the bookstagram tour with @turnthepagetours for this book by @crystalwrote. Head on over to: @booksaremagictoo @djreadsbooks @reading_with_nicole Check out their posts about this amazing book! Title: Fat Chance, Charlie Vega Author : Crystal Maldonado Publisher: @holidayhouse #FatChanceCharlieVegaBookTour #booktour #ttpt #turnthepagetours #bookstagram #bookish #ilovereading #ilovebooks #instabooks #instareads #bibliophile #bookgram #bookcommunity #booksbooksbooks #book #booklover #tbr #reading #thursday #february #yalovin #contemporary #romance #romcom #readersofinstagram #igreaders #igbooks https://www.instagram.com/p/CLKg8a4ABqT/?igshid=1mroiffp2tug2

[mostweakhamlets]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Seven-ish years ago

Bea waited in their car until the last possible minute. They didn’t want to go out in the February wind. It would be freezing, and there could be ice. And their balance wasn’t what it used to be five months prior.

They wished Gabriel had gotten the evening off work. Or at least had tried to clear his meetings. He wasn’t supportive in the emotional sense, but he had nice arms to hang onto. He could, at the very least, make it so they weren’t alone in the dark car. Gabriel would have been a gentleman through the night, not only helping them inside but helping them out of their coat and staying by their side.

Five minutes before the class started, Bea stepped out of their car and walked across the dark parking lot and up the stairs of the community center. Expecting parents of various stages of their pregnancy surrounded them, already seated at the collapsible tables set up in a square. Couples sat together on the left side of the square, making conversation with their neighbors. And the seemingly single parents sat on the right.

Bea found a wobbly, cold metal chair on the right next to a red-head. They shed their coat and laid their right hand on the table so that their wedding band was visible. Just to make sure that the people around them knew that they had someone elsewhere.

read the rest on ao3

[mostweakhamlets]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Bea is a somewhat successful lawyer, co-parent, and divorcee whose son befriends the new girl at school with a hot aunt. Crowley is the most doting parent in the world to make up for the fact that he's never been in a committed relationship with his daughter's other father.

Together, they carpool and provide healthy snacks at Sports Day with healthy doses of bitching in between.

Bea had called Crowley, texted Hastur, e-mailed Ligur, and even considered sending a Facebook message to Michael.

No one knew much about Deegan.

Crowley reported that she must have some sort of custody of her niece because the big mommy group added her to their group chat already. She wasn’t very active, though, and popped in only to give her niece’s name, age, and teacher as all parents were asked to do upon admittance.

Hastur knew nothing.

Ligur told Bea he would do a full background check on Deegan but only came up with a LinkedIn profile after three hours.

By then, Bea was nearly desperate enough to reach out to Michael. She would know everything about Deegan down to where she shopped. But messaging Michael would get them roped into volunteering for the next three bake sales no matter how much they explained that they were very close to being made junior partner at their firm, and they just really needed to focus on their cases rather than making burnt brownies.

“Cain, I’ve already asked you to start cleaning up.”

read the rest on ao3. read updates early on patreon. 

[mostweakhamlets]

Tedious Turning of Pages and Toys

Bea is a somewhat successful lawyer, co-parent, and divorcee whose son befriends the new girl at school with a hot aunt. Crowley is the most doting parent in the world to make up for the fact that he's never been in a committed relationship with his daughter's other father.

Together, they carpool and provide healthy snacks at Sports Day with healthy doses of bitching in between.

Read on AO3 | Posted first on Patreon

Thursday

Bea woke up to silence, which hadn’t happened in over 6 years.

At first, they thought that maybe they had woken up in the middle of the night. They thought this with a little joy, knowing they could roll over and get maybe another three hours of sleep. Maybe four. They curbed their enthusiasm at five hours. They hadn’t had more than five hours of sleep in years.

But there was a nagging feeling underneath, chewing at their stomach. Maybe they had slept through their alarm, and they were hours late to work and Cain was hours late to school.

It was silly, they thought. They had an extra cup of coffee the day before. The caffeine was keeping them up.

But they opened their eyes. And saw light through a gap in their curtains.

“Shit.”

They grabbed their phone off their nightstand. Their alarm, annoyingly, was set to 6:00 pm.

“Shit.”

They had 20 minutes to get themselves and Cain dressed, fed, groomed, and out the door. It could be worse, they thought. 20 minutes was enough time to throw on clothes and shove a granola bar at Cain. They could eat at their office—their desk had an abundance of processed foods stored away inside it—and brush their hair in the car, then their teeth in the office bathroom.

And if there wasn’t time to detangle Cain’s hair or scrub his face free od crumbs, well, little boys were supposed to be messy. No one would look at a little boy with untidy hair and think, “That’s quite unusual.” Especially when dirt and bugs seemed attracted to them like a magnet. It was a rule of the universe. Little boys get to be messy without judgment.

“Cain, get up. We overslept.” Cain whined when Bea turned the lights on and threw his blankets off of him. “Come on. Get your uniform on.”

The six-year-old boy sat up with a scowl that rivaled his zaza’s. Bea was pleased that he had inherited that from them even if most of the time he was a walking ball of sunshine. They had no idea where that came from with a zaza like them and a father like Gabriel.

“Come on. Trousers. Shirt.”

Cain was a spitting image of Bea. He had their blue eyes and dark, unruly hair. Everyone had said that it was a shame he didn’t look more like Gabriel—specifically, that he didn’t get Gabriel’s purple eyes. Bea usually snapped in response, “They’re not purple actually. They’re just a really odd shade of gray. And Cain would probably get bullied if he had purple eyes, so it’s best they came out blue, isn’t it?”

Every night for the past four years, Bea rejoiced in the fact that Cain looked so little like Gabriel.

Once he was in his little school uniform and running off to the bathroom, Bea returned to their own room with a prayer that they had an outfit for the day. Laundry day had been skipped when Cain needed supplies from the craft store for a project on Tuesday and the skipped again when Bea desperately needed a nap on Wednesday.

They pulled their last top out of the closet and grabbed a somewhat-clean pair of trousers from the chair in the corner. It would have to do. Laundry could be done that night when they got home. It would need to get done. Cain was running dangerously low on clean pants.

“Zaza!”

A distressed voice came from the bathroom as Bea shook out the jacket they had worn every day that week.

“What is it?” they called back.

“Zaza!”

Bea sighed. “One minute!”

While tucking their top into their trousers, they began to make their way to the bathroom where Cain was yelling. Their phone buzzing behind them stopped them and forced them to turn on their heel.

They didn’t want a call. They wanted to get Cain in his shoes and backpack and out the door.

“What do you want?”

“I have a huge favor to ask of you.” On the other end of the phone, Anthony Crowley sounded hoarse and tired, and Bea knew where the conversation was going. “Can you pick up Eden and take her to school?”

“Are you serious?”

“I have that bug that’s going around. I can’t take her.”

Bea took a moment to breathe in deeply. There was no time to get angry even if Crowley made their ears ring and heart race.

“Only if Cain gets picked up with Eden today.”

“Fine. Zira’s doing pick up. I’ll let him know.”

Bea didn’t like leaving Cain in the care of Zira. He was the only man to make Bea see red just by existing.

Cain learned bad things from him. Like to be nice to everyone regardless of what they do. And to always turn the other cheek when wronged. Bea didn’t want Cain to become a push-over. They wanted him to stand his ground and have the balls to tell people what he really thought of them. The world didn’t need any overly-friendly kindness.

And Zira wasn’t even a totally kind person. He was passive-aggressive and spiteful and hid behind his nice guy persona to maintain his holier-than-thou complex.

Bea dwelled on this as they brushed a knot out of Cain’s hair.

“We have to leave a bit earlier to pick up Eden,” they said. And then, mostly to themselves, “It takes only five minutes to get to their house, but it’s in the opposite direction from school. So, it’ll take 15 minutes instead of 10 to get to school. We’d have to leave Crowley’s house at 7:45 to get to school on time. Which means we have to leave here at 7:40. Which is…” Bea looked at their phone. “5 minutes ago.”

Bea rushed Cain through the rest of their morning routines. They brushed his teeth quickly (they had a spare toothbrush and travel-sized toothpaste in their work bag for mornings like these) and shoved shoes onto feet. Bea rutted around in the glove department in their car on their way to Crowley’s house until they found an abandoned energy bar that resembled a brick under a napkin and an empty bottle of pain relievers.

“Eat that.” Cain happily began to. “I’ll get Eden.”

Crowley answered the door in his robe and childless. He was pale, and his hair was pulled into a messy bun.

“Where is she? We’re late?”

Crowley leaned in the doorway. “Didn’t you get my text?”

“No. I was trying to leave my house so I could tote your child off to school on time. I didn’t look at my texts. Why would I look at my texts?”

“Eden’s sick, too. She vomited on her uniform. I called her off—”

Bea was already storming away. They stopped half-way down the walkway and turned back around.

“Can Zira still pick up Cain?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Bea wrinkled their nose when they imagined Cain walking home with him, probably being asked about the best parts of his day and being praised when Zira heard he shared a snack.

“You know, forget it. I’ll get him on my break.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

There was no way they were going to make it to school or work on time now. All because of the diseased Crowleys. All because they had tossed their phone into the bottom of their bag rather than their jacket pocket as they usually did.

“Where’s Eden?” Cain asked, mouth covered in chocolate (did the energy bar have chocolate in it?), when Bea slid back into the car.

“Eden’s ill.” Bea threw the car into reverse. “She’s bloody ill.”

--

Crowley waited until Eden was sound asleep before he called Zira. He brushed her red hair away from her feverish brow while the phone rung.

While his stomach had calmed with a cup of tea, Eden only wanted the comfort of her father to cure her ills. And who was Crowley to deny her that when he knew that a good cuddle was the best medicine?

“Anthony?”

“Hey, angel.”

“What’s the matter? You sound ill.”

Crowley smiled. Zira was so intuitive. “I am. And so is Eden. I was just letting you know that you don’t have to pick her up from school today. Or probably tomorrow. We’re taking the rest of the week off.”

“Poor things.”

“You don’t have to have her this weekend, either. I’ll keep her here.”

There was a pause before Zira spoke again. “I don’t feel like I have to have her.”

“Yeah. But you get the weekend off, either way.”

“It’s not like she’s a kid I’m babysitting. She’s my daughter.”

“I know. I know. I just mean… it’ll be a nice break, you know? Just you and yourself.”

“I like having her.”

“I know you do.”

“I look forward to our weekends together. If she’s ill, then keep her home. But I never feel like I have to look after her.”

Crowley rubbed Eden’s back. She was the best thing to ever happen to either of them. They adored her, and she was doted on every minute they had her.

If anything, she was the main reason Zira and Crowley maintained their weird-somewhat-relationship-thing. Co-parenting allowed for phone calls and texts and dinners. They went to school programs and did shopping for Christmases and birthdays together. They alternated whose house they did holidays at and occasionally took trips out of London. They had dozens of pictures of the three of them at beaches and in little shops and cafes. Crowley couldn’t have asked for a better co-parent/sometimes-boyfriend.

But Crowley felt that sometimes Zira didn’t know what to do with her. He had confessed once that he was paralyzed with fear the first he had her one his own. She was just a baby, and he barely left her side. Even at night, he slept in a chair next to her crib with everything she could possibly need on standby.

“She’s not a chore,” Aziraphale said. “She’s my daughter.”

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale continued to struggle as she got older. He tended to spoil her with anything she wanted—too afraid to say no in fear that she would develop any resentment towards him. When Crowley said bedtime was at 8, Aziraphale would let her stay up until 8:30. When Crowley told her no sweets too close to dinner, Aziraphale would sneak whatever she wanted to her.

Crowley thought of it less as parenting and more of an anxious attempt to be Eden’s friend, which left him in the dangerous position of being the strict parent.

“If you’d like, you could always pick her up from school Monday,” Crowley said.

“I’d love to, but I’m working late Monday.”

“Right.”

“But maybe we could all have dinner then if you’re both feeling up to it. I’ll cook.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll let you two rest. Feel better. Give Eden a kiss for me.”

“Will do, angel.”

[mostweakhamlets]

Tedious Turning of Pages and Toys

Chapter 2: Friday

Bea left their office at exactly 2:30 p.m and elbowed their way to the front of the school gates at 2:50 p.m.

They looked between their watch and the doors of the school every minute. If they could grab Cain the moment he walked out, they could make it back to their office before their hour break was over and still have time to grab food from the cafeteria for both of them. It wasn’t their usual routine. On Fridays, Cain went home with Eden and Crowley watched them while Bea worked late. But this Friday, Crowley and Eden were still sick, and Crowley wouldn’t accept Cain no matter how much Bea talked about “herd immunity.”

A burst of children ran out the doors. Bea looked out for the messy, black hair that belonged to them in the sea of children’s heads. As the crowd of parents thinned out, there was finally the mop of hair Bea was looking for. But it was attached to two red braids and headed away from Bea.

“Come on.”

They had so much work to do at their office, they didn’t want to waste any time running after their child. If they didn’t get back to their work soon, they would fall behind and leave the office pathetically late. Which wouldn’t have been too awful of a problem if Cain were with Crowley. But no. Crowley just had to disrupt their schedule.

They followed Cain to the second opening in the gates and met him as he stood in front of a red-haired woman.

“Hello,” Bea said.

The woman had been doting on the little girl and looked up when she heard Bea. She smiled, and it was a genuine, wide thing that really showed joy. Bea did their best to smile, though it was something the muscles in their face weren’t used to.

“You have my child,” they said.

(link to AO3 in notes) 

[mostweakhamlets]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Saturday

Zira let himself into the apartment, carrying a small bag from the chemist. He looked at his miserable sometimes-partner and daughter, both flushed with fever and exhausted.

“You both look awful,” he said. “How’s the little angel doing?”

Eden laid on the couch under a blanket, staring blankly at an animal program playing on the television. Zira felt her forehead and clicked his tongue.

“Her fever’s gone down, actually,” Crowley said. He was curled up on the armchair, wrapped up in his own blanket to ward off chills. His body felt heavy. Despite not having had a proper meal in days, he felt weighed down. Like every muscle had turned to lead and his bones were made of steel. “It spiked at two this morning.”

His own fever has remained stubbornly the same since Friday afternoon, leaving him drained and uncomfortable.

“Poor darling.”

published first on patreon