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Connor: fuck off.
Connor: nah, everyone dies. just a question of how and when... in your case, it'll probably be slow and painful.
Brigid: And how do you think you will die, kiddo?
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@wtfbrigid
Text 📧 Open
Connor: fuck off.
Connor: nah, everyone dies. just a question of how and when... in your case, it'll probably be slow and painful.
Brigid: And how do you think you will die, kiddo?
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Connor: and you call me frustrating.
Connor: uh huh...
Connor: it's your funeral, chickadee.
Brigid: You're adorable.
Brigid: Funeral? I'm too mean to die, lmao.
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Connor: you're so lucky i care about you and value your input, otherwise i'd be blocking your number.
Connor: that's an understatement... and i hope it works out for you.
Brigid: No skin off my back.
Brigid: It always does in the long run.
Brigid: Might take a couple of false starts, but I'll get there eventually.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: no see that doesn't seem to me like you got the fuckin point.
eamon: i dont give a fuck if you talk to my kid, fuck i don't care if you want to clone him, just don't fight o'malley battles without being invited.
eamon: now, read this carefully, okay? STAY OUT OF MY FAMILY BUSINESS. ALL OF IT.
eamon: do i need to tell you again? or have I made myself clear? because I can relay it back to your folks in galway if you are having trouble in understanding this SIMPLE fucking fact? I'm sure my brothers back home will be happy to pass on any messages.
Brigid: I was invited, first of all.
Brigid: Just because he was the one that made the call, it doesn't make it any less valid.
Brigid: Second of all, Rose and the kid that was conceived from that unfortunate union are part of Connor's family and while you are kin to Connor, that doesn't mean it's your battle to fight, either. It's not your problem, unless there's more skeletons in your closet than you care to let on.
Brigid: I will repeat this one more time. Your son is a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions. You need to cut the cord and trust him or when you push him from the nest, he's going to plummet to his death.
Brigid: I only come here as often as I do for Connor's sake. Like it or not, pal, I'm in it for the long haul.
Brigid: And the next time you threaten my family, even subtly, there will be hell to pay. Is that understood?
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Connor: meh.
Connor: fuck off.
Connor: i shall never stop bitching.
Connor: i'm sure you will.
Connor: i see your point and raise you.
Connor: tf do you think dad will do when he finds out about you having such a close proximity to me?
Connor: i mean, i appreciate it, but he might not.
Brigid: And right there is part of your problem.
Brigid: How else are you going to man up and take responsibility for shit if you're always whining and crying about the little shit?
Brigid: Quite frankly, I don't care what he does or how he feels. You've made your decision, and I'm sure he'll make his in his usual fashion.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: brigid.
eamon: i'm gonna make this very clear
eamon: like the fuckin crystal ya ma drinks out of at dinner
eamon: you are NOT his fuckin mother.
eamon: i have this shit handled. i dunno how you know about any of it or why the fuck you think you have a right to know, but i'm just gonna weigh in here and say, NO.
eamon: stay the fuck away from her.
Brigid: And I'm going to make this very clear to you.
Brigid: He's an adult. He's fully capable of making his own decisions and deciding who he hangs out with.
Brigid: He asked me to provide him with some maternal support and that's what I'm doing until he says or requests otherwise.
Brigid: I know about Rose because he told me after the fact. He was upset about it, and he didn't want to burden you anymore than he already had.
Brigid: I care about him, okay? He might not be mine, I'll grant you that, but I do care about him.
Brigid: Now, is that all? Or are you going to keep bitching?
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Connor: what part of tmi do you not understand??? jfc.
Connor: knowing dad, it's not too much of a stretch.
Connor: thanks.
Connor: nah, fam.
Connor: semantics.
Connor: who's gonna kill me, again? i think i lost my memo in the mail...
Brigid: All of it?
Brigid: You must be one very warped individual... Is that all you think about?
Brigid: Yup.
Brigid: Then stop bitching.
Brigid: I'll give you semantics in a fucking minute.
Brigid: Idk, pick a name from a hat.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: maybe just give it a try
eamon: th fuck for? because you gave her your passport and she used it? yeah, right i see it now 😒
Brigid: Like I said, no.
Brigid: Again, no. She hurt Connor, and I'll be damned if I fucking let that shit slide, regardless of how many times he's begged me not to hurt her.
Brigid: In the very least, I'm going to make her regret both opening her legs and coming here to complicate the kid's life.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: maybe you could roll them back to ireland? yeah?
eamon: and take the redhead with you.
Brigid: How about no?
Brigid: I'll pass. The only place I'll put her is in a shallow grave.
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Connor: if you don't wanna come here, then don't. jeez. don't use me for an excuse. i mean, galway is like two hours and change away from dublin and i'll be going there after new year's, maybe.
Connor: i'll pretend i didn't read that.
Connor: just... promise. or try to promise.
Connor: shut the fuck up.
Connor: wtf is so wrong with that? people used to be parents at like... twelve.
Brigid: I don't come here for just you, dipshit. I said, you're *basically* the only reason I come. I also happen to like ogling the young and sober lifeguards that dot the beaches. If I were about ten years younger, I'd fuck them in a quick minute.
Brigid: Probably for the best, although I think you assume too much.
Brigid: Fine, I *try* to promise.
Brigid: Make me, bitch.
Brigid: I'm sorry, I didn't realize your life expectancy was significantly shorter than the average human's or that this was medieval times.
Brigid: If you keep that shit up, though, you might just find that your lifespan IS significantly shorter.
Text 📧 Open
Connor: maybe so, but... forget it...
Connor: now, you're starting to sound like my dad.
Connor: just don't hurt her.
Connor: i do.
Connor: tmi, lmao.
Brigid: What? I'm not your mother? And after all we've been through, I'm wounded! You're basically the only reason I spend an ungodly amount of money every so often to come back here.
Brigid: Birds of a feather flock together.
Brigid: I'll try not to. No promises.
Brigid: Lying doesn't become you, not even over text.
Brigid: Is it, though? How do you think I felt, finding out my smol son is a dad at... What? 19?
Text 📧 Open
Connor: sod off.
Connor: lyin' sack o' shit.
Connor: it's an old friend of mine, and the kid's like... two? idk. he's kinda the same age as my sister, which is... weird. luckily, they'll have the same relationship that i had with my uncle and aunt if i ever get to meet the little dude.
Connor: i think i love you, tbh.
Connor: no, no ruler. i had enough of the wooden stick of doom in school. shit fuckin' hurt.
Brigid: I'm just worried about you.
Brigid: Fuck you.
Brigid: I'm still going to instill the fear of God into her if your dad doesn't. Shit's fucking ridiculous.
Brigid: No, you don't.
Brigid: Then shape the fuck up, or you'll relearn the wrath of a sexually frustrated nun... Minus the nun part.
Text 📧 Open
Connor: all things in moderation?
Connor: you know what it's like, don't you?
Connor: the short and skinny of it is i'm a dad, i guess...
Connor: was that... was that an auron reference?!
Connor: does this mean you're bringing me soup???
Brigid: I wouldn't call what you did moderation if you're hungover enough that you can't even keep down solid foods.
Brigid: Me? Break laws? Never!
Brigid: Jesus fucking Christ. Who's the broad, and how old's the kid? Do I need to lay down some whoop ass?
Brigid: It was.
Brigid: No soup for you!... Kidding. Of course, I'll bring you soup, but I might also bring my ruler.
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Connor: i feel sick... like, really sick.
Connor: i haven't felt this sick since i took an arrow to the knee and... oh, forget it...
Connor: bring me chicken soup? pls?
Connor: just don't pour it down my shirt or worse, my pants... i don't deserve that kind of abuse, lmao.
Brigid: You're hungover, aren't you? What has your dad told you about drinking, Connor? You're not even legal yet in America, you dingus.
Brigid: For someone so worried about deportation, you're certainly willing to break a law or two.
Brigid: Dare I ask what happened, sweetie?
Brigid: I take your Skyrim reference and raise you, by the way.
Brigid: Only a jackass can change the world.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: yeah not in you though, just in your info.
eamon: how long ago was this?
Brigid: I'm pretty sure if I rolled my eyes any harder, they'd roll outta my head. Talk about overinflated egos...
Brigid: Welllllllll, the flight was about nine hours and that's assuming you fly direct. She was about a day ahead of me, so... Almost forty-eight hours ago? She'll make contact soon, I imagine.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: wait, where was this? when?
Brigid: Oh, now you're interested... It was back in Ireland, mate, though I suspect she's made it here because she was on the flight before mine. Looked about as scared and uncertain as a newborn without their mum.
Brigid > Eamon
eamon: don't try the pet names on, it ain't cute.
eamon: the fuck did you do that for? that's like top of the list for dumb shit you shouldn't do.
Brigid: Says you.
Brigid: I felt bad for her, tbh. She had a little, blond boy with her. Kinda reminded me of your lot, actually, and I could do with the boost in karma.