Another upcoming BaCC pic I had to post separately because it's easily one of my favorites, if not the most favorite pic I took this rotation. And I took, like, a lot (over 40 photosets!)
Big part of the reason why I'm so partial to this one is that it was a sort-of collab. The mega-talented @gphoenixsims came to my rescue and did the hard job of adding flow and movement to the sims' hairs, giving the pic that extra something it was lacking. (What, you thought I drew all that fabulous hair fluttering about in the wind? Think again! 🤣)
Let me tell you though, editing this pic after Gphoenix sent it back to me was a trip and a half. G went above and beyond and edited both the boys' hairs as well as some clipping on Phillip's boot, but there was still some other fine-tuning to be done on the pic. Long story short, me pulling the pic into Photoshop after G had already worked her magic on it felt a lot like this:
Gphoenixsims, if you're reading this: I love you and your mad photoshopping skillz. You're the James McNeill Whistler to my Mr. Bean! ♥
🕚
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Remove People in the Background
Google's Pixel phones and Google Photos have a feature called Magic Eraser that can remove people (and animals?) from your photos.
While This is nothing new for digital photo editing — Google's just made this dead easy to use for those of us without photoshop skillz — watching product demos people being raptured out of the backgrounds of photos is...unsettling.
Not that wanting a photo of your kid on the beach, alone, gazing at the sea, the treacherous sea is wrong per se. It's just that removing evidence of all other humans in a photo after we've gone through a respiratory pandemic that killed many, many people smacks a bit wrong.
Pandemic aside, I think this feature brings up a lot of bad things about what it means to take a photo right now.
Photos are evidence that you are the main character in the movie of your life. You, your kid, your dog, your stuff, is the focus. Everything else is set dressing — a reflection of you, your power, your status.
Again, this is not new. We have aristocratic oil paintings, the walls of Egyptian pyramids, tapestries and so on.
What is new is how easy it is to create the 21st version of Henry VIII eating a turkey leg and how easy it is to share that image with your friends, family, enemies, exes, side pieces.
What's more is that these images come with meta-data, like geo-location tags, so you can know exactly where 21st century Henry VIII got that tasty looking turkey leg, go there, snap your own pic and get similar clout.
This got me thinking about a great Caity Weaver piece about #VanLife
"To prepare for this regular-shaped mission, I threw myself into the #VanLife corners of TikTok and Instagram. Accounts of popular “vanlifers,” as they are known, are an infinite reservoir of gorgeous, unpeopled scenery previously encountered only in desktop backgrounds: sunrise canyons, sunset oceans, high-noon highways that stretch on, carless, forever."
The piece goes on to describe the throngs of people Caity and her travelling partner had to fight through as they tried to grab idyllic shots of themselves, the van and nature.
The goal is the pic, but when that's everyone's goal that's a problem. If only we could disappear these fools out of the photo, right?
I don't blame Google for creating a technological solution to a problem. The camera on the Pixel phones has been a defining feature of the product since gen 1 and their machine learning smarts are increasingly becoming a key part of all of their products, consumer or otherwise. They spotted a problem and created a solution that is genuinely useful (I imagine) for their users.
It's just that the desire to remove others from your photos, from representations of your life, just feels gross, y'know?
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Binge read your fic last night and it's so good! You are truly talented and the fic's entire premise is so fun. If it wouldn't be a bother could you please post the damie elves photo.........the link you provided wasn't working for me.
Oh how lovely and thank you for telling me that!
And no not a bother at all, IT'S MY FAVORITE PIC. And I'm glad you told me the link is busted, must fix posthaste!
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So ummm volume 9 amirite :)
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OK work in progress, comments & critiques?
first draft of a collage edit for Black Peony by @xantissa and @merinnan
the training wheels image editor i use only does 10 images at a time, so i'm working on a second edit to pair with this one
color matching the images is a challenge, i keep changing my mind whether i like de-saturated or like a particular hue ... seriously if anyone has advice or direction, i'm listening 👂🙏
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lol
klance moments: 5/?
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A Chorus Line fancasting meme: one character from another fandom if they existed in that world [1/1]
“The name’s Jade...Jade West. Didn’t even have to change it, how lucky was that? I’m from Los Angeles, I actually attended the Hollywood Arts high school. I’m sure you’re all probably thinking, if I wanted to be in show business, why didn’t I just stay in California? Well, it’s crowded for one...and for two, I needed to get as far away from my parents as possible...”
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SATURDAY, MAY 2nd, WRIGHTSVILLE MANOR.
Evelyn Rowe attends the Otis wedding and reception with date @rxmeos.
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Arya Stark Week - Day 5 - “Religion” (The Old Gods)
“The wolf blood.” Arya remembered now. “I’ll be as strong as Robb. I said I would.” She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee. It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside. I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth.
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Choices Fanmade Poster: The Royal Romance 👑💖
So I decided to practice mah photoshop skillz using face claims and this happened. I kinda went for Korean Drama/Japanese Drama style of poster but oh well…hello Wattpad! 😂📱🔫
I wanna thank @pixelbatsy for the lovely playchoices background. Love your BG collection so much! 😊❤️
Note: This poster is according to my gameplay where Stacie (my MC) stays with the Beaumont Bros., Maxwell and Dream Daddy, Brother Berty. She’s also besties with Maxwell, Hana and Corgi Baby. Drake likes her but she’s in love with Liam who loves her too but he’s engaged to Madeleine. Ya know, the typical love triangle shit and that. 😙👌🏼✨
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Yes, she was there. She wasn't expressly on the call, but you can hear her several times in the background when he's telling the pee story (there's something I never thought I'd write). D said at the beginning he was eating lunch at the spa restaurant and apparently she was with him. I guess we should be grateful they didn't decide to make her the guest when they couldn't get one this week.
Guest of the week! Glad I wasn’t drinking anything when I read that or this would have been me:
That would also be the shortest podcast ever recorded since she has no actual work to speak about. She’d have to share tips for ordering Halloween costumes online or decor ideas if you’re looking to open a stripper bar or her mad photoshop skillz. She could give a class on how to make your husband look miserable while standing next to you in public.
Side note - Cecily is so fucking good at absolutely nailing Colin perfectly every time she does this. Nothing will top the glass over the shoulder from the season finale this year though. I could watch that for days.
I have so many questions. Why are you recording this while you’re eating lunch? That was the only time slot available in your day? Why did you think that was a story that needed sharing? I would personally be mortified if my SO decided to share something like this but she clearly has no shame if she’s cool with him telling the world. Did she think it was going to up her nonexistent rock and roll creds? What a rambly mess this ep was. They had no guest for the first one and it was still fun to listen to. Shit like this is why she needs to be kept away from his professional endeavors.
I enjoyed the shout out to the glee tour in 2011 and the fun insanity of that summer. Wonder if that’s why we had to counter with a story about her for absolutely no reason whatsoever…
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Goth-Lothario Household
Over to the Uberhood! Now this spot in the rotation was Don’s round, but he married Cassandra at the end of the Goth round. As I played them quite recently (and by recently, I mean September 2019), I thought about putting their round after the main Goth household, but then I remembered Donna Lothario’s still happily single in my genderswapped uberhood, so it would be easier to sync the two hoods up if I kept Don earlier. Plus it spaces out all the Goths a bit.
tl;dr, Goth-Lothario household.
You may or may not remember that I moved Don and Cassandra into Shoebox Mansion at the end of the Goth round, but when I found I couldn’t fit a double bed in any of the bedrooms, I moved them right back out again. So now they’re living in Willow House, which is just a despookified, rotated copy of The House Of Fallen Trees. Oooh! Aaaah!
...I may have fucked up the portals though.
Cassandra: Welp. That’s my husband.
That’s your husband! Not having second thoughts, are you?
Don: *flirts*
Cassandra: Not any more.
Oh right, yeah, she’s pregnant. I forgot that.
Do you know what that is behind you? It’s a changing table.
Nanny: Don’t worry, I’m gonna throw the dirty nappy in the bin anyway.
Really? In that case then, carry on.
Nanny: I’m not a maid, you know.
Cassandra: And thank goodness for that.
Nanny: I don’t have to clean the counter.
Cassandra: Never asked you to.
But I do want a Bonehilda servo at some point, and Cassandra is also a Bot Fan, so I brought her a robot station to play with.
And this is why I started dabbling in swimmable lakes!
Don: Help.
Sorry, Cassandra’s busy.
Nobody was interested in throwing a party, but I invited the other Goths over anyway for baby Vera’s birthday.
Alex: Throw this!
Cassandra: Wanna eat my husband.
We don’t need to know your kinks, thanks.
Toddler Vera! Obscured by confetti!
And here she is madeover. She’s got little hairbuns, just like her mother.
Who is currently being decapitated by her father.
Cassandra: DAD WHAT THE FUCK!
Mortimer:
Seriously, I have no idea what got into him, his relationship with his children is fine, he’s got no bad traits or memories that might have caused him to lash out.
Bella: Best you stay out of it, Don, if you think about it, he actually has a motive to lash out at you.
Don: I’ll pay you whatever you want, just never mention what happened on my deck ever again.
Right, I think it’s time the visitors pissed off home and never came back.
So here’s Vera, just quietly scribbling in her room.
And here’s Bella, very clearly not going home.
Don: I’m not paying you again.
Cassandra: Ooh!
Bella: Congrats.
Don: Zzz... not paying...
Postman: I can’t just give you his mail.
Bella: It’s fine, he’s my son-in-law.
Postman: It’s still a no.
Bella: OK, but did I mention that I’m Bella Goth?
GO HOME, BELLA.
I never usually use high chairs, so I wasn’t expecting the nanny to feed Vera proper food.
Cassandra: It’s time.
That’s right, it’s potty training faces!
Followed by adorable peek-a-boo faces.
Followed by walking skillz.
Followed by Don potty training faces.
Don: Eugh, this stinks. I need some fresh air.
OK!
Oh.
Nina: What a coincidence seeing you here!
Don: Such an accident!
As I know I didn’t set up a meeting between these two and they’re really telling the truth, I just have to sit here and glare.
Don: Um, OK, I didn’t do this autonomously.
Actual picture of me fulfilling Don’s want to slow dance and grope ass.
Don: You are the sunshine of my life, ooooooooh, that’s why I’ll always be around-
Nina: Don’t you have a pregnant wife at home?
Don: Yeah... I should probably. Not do this any more.
Yeah.
So! Moving on!
Possessed potty training face.
Cassandra: You left the icon in.
The wall’s patterned, makes it harder to photoshop out.
And Vera learns to walk!
Cassandra: Ugh why can’t I just make Servos already?
Um, what are you doing here?
Nina: I just happened to be in the area.
Nina: Oh, fancy seeing you here!
Don: Yeah, fancy!
I swear, they’re just saying hello, HONEST!.
Cassandra: This is fine.
However, after their hello snog, Nina just,,, leaves and Don goes back to fatherhood.
Don: Teddy!
Vera: If you say so.
Is that wise? That doesn’t seem wise.
Don: It’s fine, I think they blacklisted me anyway.
Cassandra keeps churning out crappy robots and Don wants a mechanical skill, so this is a win-win.
Also I don’t know if I mentioned it before, but Don randomly has an Equestrian trait, so I got a rocking horse for him.
Don: You mean for my darling baby girl.
Yes, but really it’s for you.
Don: Thanks! Oh, and speaking of buying me things, I have a request.
Well gee, I would, but you see that karaoke machine? I literally just brought it for you to fulfil your previous “buy a stereo costing $1800″ want.
Don: Fine, I’ll dance instead.
I like that even though Don and Cassie splurged and brought all the protective upgrades, there’s still a chance the power will go out.
Vera: I don’t want food, I want SLEEP.
Yeah well good luck sleeping through this racket.
It’s a boy! I decided to stick with V names and named him Vincent!
Nanny: Excellent, that’s my job safe for the next ten years.
Cassandra: Not if you die.
Don: Zzz... not sure performance-enhancing milk is really safe for my children... zzz...
Not that it matters right now, ‘cause Vera’s learned all her toddler skills.
Also she’s about to grow up.
Don: Hey sweetheart! Ready to see our baby girl all grown up?
Cassandra: Just cut the fucking cake Don, I’m dying here.
Looks like Don is too.
And here’s child!Vera! The first thing she did was run off to read a book. A child after my own heart.
Vera: TV’s broken.
Shut up, nerd.
Don: Groovy tune, Cass!
Cassandra: Thanks! It’s ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
Don: And you make it rock.
Meanwhile, here’s Vincent, just chilling away.
Vera still loves drawing, but the table’s gone kinda glitchy and the skill bar keeps resetting over her head.
So I let her play chess on her balcony instead. Games is her OTH anyway.
Then she abandoned her game and sprinted down three flights of stairs to hug her mother. Aww.
Vera: I think I will just stand here and creepily hold the teddy for half an hour.
Vera: Change of plan.
And it’s time for Vincent’s birthday. And no, we will not be inviting Bella and Mortimer this time.
Relax Spike, he’s de-beared now.
Don may not be the absolute best husband, but he is definitely a doting dad. I think I’ll give him a reward!
A little woo, a little hoo.
OK! So, you might have noticed that the blanket animations on this bed don’t work, so be prepared for some truly cursed woohoo images!
Starts off fairly benign with some invisibility...
...And quickly turns into nightmare fuel.
Don: Worth it.
Vera: Daddy, what would you wish for if we had a genie lamp?
Don: I’d wish to turn back time to before I started eating this mouldy mac and cheese.
Cassandra: Speaking of wishes!
Eh, why not. There’s still a spare bedroom, after all.
Vera: Bitch.
Don: What was that?
Vera: Nothing daddy, love you!
Townie: Oooh, who’s that handsome fellow?
Don: Why hello-
Townie: Not you.
At least Cassandra still finds him attractive.
Townie: You OK, dude?
Don: Fine! Just wonderful! I definitely did not hear any chimes!
Vera: Cheer up daddy, watch me do this!
Don: Perfect, amazing, ten out of ten!
Don: But there’s really not enough space in here for athletics. Let’s go outside!
Vera: DAD I AM HAVING SECOND THOUGHTS.
Much better.
So far this guy is the only person who’s touched the karaoke machine.
Don: Tickles!
Vincent: Fatherly affection!
Don: Mr Teddy says time to get dressed!
Vera: Dad, what the fuck?
Don: You’re right, this was a stupid idea.
Seriously though, I may rag on him a little, but Don is a fantastic father who showers his children in lots of love. He’s also stopped rolling cheating wants.
Which is good news, because Cassandra is definitely pregnant again!
*ten seconds later*
Cassandra: BLARF.
Don: We’re gonna stay here and learn a nursery rhyme, well out of the line of fire.
And in the meantime, Cassandra takes Vera out to Magic Land.
Server: See my hand? It’s magic!
Vera: Hi Uncle Alex! I’m just surveying the men in the family to find out what they’d wish for if they had a genie lamp.
Alex: Uh, dunno. It’s usually money, but we’ve got plenty of that.
Cassandra: And here’s Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’. It’s the sound of the summer.
Awww.
Thanks to all that scribbling as a toddler, Vera’s now at nine creativity points.
Family dinner.
Ignore the sky, I toggled ceilings off by accident and didn’t notice.
Vincent:
Vincent: I have regrets.
And the week ends with Don still hunting for his LTW job. Thank you for tuning in!
UBERHOOD INDEX
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WHAT IS SHE GONNA SAY WHEN (IF) THEY GO BACK???
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Thoughts on lightning wearing any of cloud’s fabulous dresses?
I wish I had photoshop skillz so I could make manips of her wearing them because she would look FABULOUS
especially in the blue/black one
someone do this please lol
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For tumblr user @stoprobbers, who is one of the best people to know for many reasons, some of which include: procurement of whisky whilst one is extremely jet lagged, photoshop skills on top of photoshop skillz involving a certain Swayze movie, and generally being all around wonderful. Happy birthday, friend!
In hindsight, Joyce realizes, she should have seen it coming.
She hadn’t questioned Nancy coming with them to the cabin, only realizing weeks later how tightly her older son had clung to the girl in the frantic moments of heat and terror. Joyce had had other things on her mind, like Will, and dealing with the lab, and pulling down the veritable miles of paper lining the house.
And Will.
Nancy being around constantly had felt like a natural progression, welcomed into their family with one stab of a poker.
Jonathan had never said the words to her, “Mom, Nancy’s my girlfriend now,” but Joyce has eyes. She can see what’s going on, even if it ends up being too much for her to handle both her younger son’s recovery and her oldest’s first relationship at the same time.
Something had to give. And Jonathan had always been independent, she tells herself.
But now that the days are warming even as the nights are still cold, Joyce finds herself with a moment to stop and breathe. To lie flat on her back in her bed, stare up at the ceiling, and not worry, even if only for a matter of minutes.
And that’s when she hears it.
She’ll give them credit, it’s soft. But the high pitched giggle coming from the other side of the wall most certainly did not come from her son.
Joyce edges closer to the wall, pressing her ear up against it, even as the thought crosses her mind that she may not want to hear what follows the giggle. But it’s just murmurs, the hint of voices, low and warm.
But even without the distinction of words, she can tell.
They’re happy.
Joyce can’t take that away from them. At least, not now.
She shuffles back down the bed, throwing a hand up to switch off the lamp, and just in case, pulling a pillow over her head, to block out any other giggles. She’ll leave them to their happiness.
Until tomorrow.
She’ll be kind about it. She knows what her own parents would have done—had done—slam the door open, catch them in the act, send Nancy scrambling out the window into the night.
Joyce knows what will come of that, from experience. More sneaking, more lying, and it’ll be the first step in a journey that leads to her losing Jonathan, maybe forever.
Instead, she’ll get on their level. A heart to heart.
She’ll be their friend.
Make them understand. That she understands them. That she knows what it’s like.
They’ll see it from her point of view, she knows it.
It’s a foolproof plan.
Joyce wakes earlier than usual, and spends most of the morning taking care of the little things that usually fall to the rushed moments—she finds her keys, shoved deep inside her coat pocket. Does her usual customary check on Will, her heart jumping into her throat when she finds his bed empty, before she remembers he spent the night at Dustin’s. (Suppresses the urge to check up on him. They’d call if something was wrong.)
And then she sits at the kitchen table, sets her coffee next to her. And waits.
It takes longer than usual for Jonathan to emerge, even for a Saturday morning.
Joyce hears the murmurs first. Then a laugh—Jonathan this time—followed by a shushing noise that must be from Nancy. A low rumble, and then the door opens.
“I told you, no one’s ho—”
Joyce coughs.
She can see Jonathan’s eyes widen, as he stops mid-stride, catching sight of her. He reverses course, stepping backwards, pushing the door closed with a snap.
There’s only silence.
Joyce sighs.
“Jonathan, can I talk to you out here?” she calls, folding her hands.
“Just a second, Mom!”
She can hear scurrying, frantic whispers. The window opening, hitting the top of the frame.
“Nancy, you too.”
The scurrying stops. Joyce can almost see them, frozen, the wordless conversation they’re having, trying to figure out if she’s bluffing or not. The whispers start again, more forceful this time, before the window slides slowly shut. The door opens again, just a crack, Nancy’s eyes peering around it this time.
Joyce takes a sip of her coffee.
The door clicks shut again.
It’s ten minutes later when it opens for the third time, Jonathan edging into the hallway, his eyes on the ground, his hand entwined with Nancy’s, who seems to be dragging her feet.
Joyce smiles benevolently, gestures to the two chairs in front of her. “Have a seat.”
The two teenagers walk slowly down the hall, not meeting her eyes. Joyce feels a little pang of hurt—surely they don’t think she’s about to yell at them—and then remembers her own terror, echoing through the years.
They don’t know that she’s on their side.
She’ll set their minds at ease.
As they settle themselves across from her at the kitchen table (they never let go of each other’s hands, not once, Joyce notices), she takes one last sip of coffee, then pushes the mug aside, examining their faces, Jonathan’s gaze on the table, his face contorted, Nancy watching her warily.
Joyce takes a deep breath.
“I want you—”
Jonathan cuts her off. “Mom—”
She silences him with an outstretched hand. He glances over at Nancy, then back at her. Joyce smiles, again. She’s their friend, she reminds herself.
“I want you both to know how happy I am for you,” she begins. Jonathan’s face becomes less of a grimace, and his eyes lift slightly, flicking up and back down, as if he’s tentatively hopeful about what she’s going to say.
Nancy remains wary.
It’s a start.
“I care about both of you. And I want you two to know that I’m here.”
Nancy’s face relaxes a little, and her head turns ever so slightly toward Joyce, as Jonathan begins to calm, his eyes meeting hers, with only the slightest hint of trepidation.
Taking heart from these encouraging steps, Joyce keeps going.
“I know what it’s like to want to spend time together. And Nancy, you know I love having you around. You’ve been such a help to Jonathan—to me.” Joyce watches as the panic starts to fade in Jonathan’s eyes, and knows she’s on the right track.
“But.”
The panic returns, and Joyce rushes on.
“We need to recognize that there are certain rules, rules that I haven’t really needed to lay out until now.”
Jonathan blinks. Nancy coughs.
“But with your help, I think we can have a dialogue about building a respectful environment where we can all trust each other. Specifically, in this house.”
They both look confused, Joyce notes. Perhaps she’s gone too high? She decides to bring it back down—to their level.
“I know how hard it can be. I was a teenager in this town once too, remember. And trust me, we didn’t have half the options you kids have now. The Hawk wasn’t there, Benny’s—or whatever they’re calling it these days. We had the woods.”
Jonathan frowns, ever so slightly.
“And don’t think I don’t know what goes on at the quarry. It had only just opened in my day—”
“Oh my god,” Jonathan says.
“—so when I say I understand, I really do.”
“Mom.”
Nancy’s eyes are wide, but she looks like she’s fighting a smile. Joyce can only assume that she gets it—that she understands that Joyce is there to be their friend—and plunges onward. Nancy’s on her side. She’s on Nancy’s side.
“And I know you two want to be together. And I won’t be like my parents, I’m not here to yell, or scream. But I think that we can all work to have a conversation about boundaries, and respect, and what it’s like to be an adult. You’re growing up. I can’t stop that. But I know we can get through this. Together.”
She extends her hand across the table with an inviting smile, nodding at Jonathan to take it.
“I’m gonna take Nancy home now,” he says abruptly, standing in one swift, decisive movement, pulling Nancy with him. (Their fingers are still intertwined, Joyce notes with fondness.) “She won’t come back ever again, I promise.”
“That’s not what I’m saying!” she exclaims after their retreating forms. “I want us to have a conversation! A dialogue!”
“Oh my god,” Jonathan says again, tugging on Nancy so that she’s forced into a little bit of a run as he reaches the front door.
“Thank you, Mrs. Byers,” Nancy calls lightly as she’s dragged along.
The door slams behind them.
It’s late by the time Jonathan comes home, late enough that Joyce has already shut her door, already looked in on Will, making sure that he’s tucked into his bed. She thinks about getting up, knocking on his door, trying to continue the conversation, and then dismisses the thought. He’s had enough for one day.
She can hear Jonathan shuffling around his room, but he seems to be alone, and Joyce smiles in the knowledge that the conversation had been a fruitful one.
But as she pulls back the blanket, she hears the window slide up.
A thump.
And murmurs.
Against her better judgement, Joyce reaches for the empty glass of water at the side of her bed, and places it against the wall.
“—are you doing here?”
“Your mom never actually said I couldn’t come over. She just said she wanted to have a conversation, whatever that means,” Nancy says, sounding slightly out of breath.
“It means you’re not supposed to come over.”
“Well, I disagree.”
The window slides shut.
“Nancy, I don’t—”
“Jonathan, I can handle your mother. What I can’t handle is what would happen is if my mother caught you in my room. Imagine that conversation.”
Joyce almost laughs, despite herself.
“I just . . . I know you sleep better with me here,” Nancy continues, her voice quieter. “I know you think you’ve all gotten over what happened in November, but I see what you’re like when I don’t spend the night. And . . . well. I sleep better with you too.”
There’s a long silence with no response from her son, but eventually Joyce can hear blankets rustling, the sounds of settling.
“Plus,” Nancy says, sounding closer, “if you’re worried about your mom catching us, I can promise you there’s no way we’re having sex tonight after climbing through that window, I’m exhausted. Next time you’re sneaking me through the front door like usual.”
Jonathan laughs, and then exhales. “I feel bad, though. After all she’s been through, and now she’s got . . . us to worry about.”
There’s a short pause, and then Nancy muses, slowly, “I don’t think she’s worried. I think she’s your mother, and she has to . . . well, be a mother. But I think she’s on our side, I really do.”
Joyce smiles to herself.
“Now,” Nancy says, sounding muffled, “can we please go to sleep? I’m going to have to wake up early to get out of here before your mom notices me again.”
“Stay as long as you want, Nancy!” Joyce calls through the wall.
She rolls over, and turns out the light.
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