#wlwlm

I will loose dramatically.

And it’ll be fucking fantastic.

They're not dangerous, honestly!

this was supposed to be a crack fic but i locked the fuck in for some reason😭i lowkey asked google what should i do… BUT ITS NOT AI BITCHES SUCK MY DICK😛 (kinda in love with it…) @abilouwrites @creoleeggin @s1lkrabbit I hope i did u justice.

i love third wheeling even tho i thought me and lou had sum but no! it’s fine! i’m fine! will be discussed later

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Macklin’s sneakers hit the curb with a soft slap as Lou angled the stroller handle back into the lane, one hand still steadying the strap across her shoulder. Vanessa’s tote bag bumped her hip when she leaned in to straighten Macklin’s collar, fingers quick and practiced, like she’d done it a thousand mornings. Sidney stood a half-step behind them, tall enough that his hoodie seemed to block the morning wind from the kids’ faces. He had his phone out - screen lit, thumb moving - eyes flicking between it and Macklin and Silk as if the whole drop-off could tilt in the wrong direction if he looked away too long.

Lou wanted the day to feel ordinary. Just a handoff, just a goodbye, just two kids walking into school with their mothers beside them like it had always been that way. She’d rehearsed it in the car: smile, wave, don’t overthink, keep her voice light when she said, “Okay, guys.” The words sat in her mouth anyway, already ready. But the school front loop was doing what it always did - swallowing patience and spitting it back out as honks, stuttering brake lights, and strangers’ eyes that snagged on anything that didn’t fit the neat picture in their heads.

Vanessa shifted her stance so she was between Lou and the sidewalk crowd for a second - subtle, like a reflex. Lou caught the gesture and felt her chest loosen, then tighten again immediately because she knew why it mattered. The past few weeks had been a slow climb from private to public, and every morning the same fear came back in a different outfit: be careful, be normal, don’t give anyone a reason to stare like you were doing something wrong.

“Shoes on,” Lou said, crouching just enough to press a palm to Silk’s cheek. Silk’s skin was cool from the air, and the little breath she released smelled like strawberry lip balm. “You ready?”

Silk nodded too fast, hair already doing its own thing, and clutched the strap of her backpack with both hands like it might try to escape. “I’m ready,” she said, then added in a whisper meant for Lou alone, “Vanessa said you don’t have to rush.”

Lou blinked, thrown by how specific that was. “Vanessa did, huh?”

Vanessa’s mouth quirked, like she’d heard the whisper but pretended she hadn’t. “Someone has to be the calm one,” she said, voice warm but light, threading it through the noise of the curbside lane. “Sidney’s already doing the sprint thing.”

Sidney looked up at that, phone tucked away for a moment. “I’m not sprinting,” he said, then, because he couldn’t help himself, his eyes softened and he added, “I’m… brisk.”

Macklin snorted, the sound bright in the chaos. Lou watched her son’s face - celebrini’s stubborn jawline, the way his eyebrows drew together when he thought someone was lying - and felt that old, fierce pride that made her want to hug him so hard it hurt. She also felt the other thing underneath it: the awareness of all the people around them, the way they could turn a family into a spectacle without even trying.

As the car in front inched forward, a line of parents started spilling out from the sidewalk like a tide. A woman in a puffy vest slowed near the curb, eyes lingering on the three of them - Lou’s hand on Silk’s cheek, Vanessa’s fingers still holding Macklin’s collar, Sidney’s stance behind them - like she was trying to figure out which story she was supposed to tell herself.

Lou forced her smile wider and made her body a little less guarded. “Okay,” she said, lifting her head. “We’re going to walk in together, and then you - ” she pointed at Macklin - “find your teacher. And you - ” she pointed at Silk - “find your friends. No wandering, no heroic rescues.”

“Not even for homework?” Macklin asked.

“Especially not for homework,” Lou said, and the laughter that followed was immediate, relieved. Macklin grabbed his sister’s hand and tugged her toward the school doors.

Sidney took one step with them, then paused, glancing at Lou. His look wasn’t romantic in the way it was when the cameras weren’t around - this was more practical, more protective. Like he was asking, without words, Are you okay? Keep your footing. I’ve got you.

Lou nodded once, quick and sure. She didn’t want him to see her fear, didn’t want Vanessa to see it either. Vanessa’s gaze was on the sidewalk crowd, scanning the faces in a calm way that made Lou feel irrationally grateful - like Vanessa could sense the threat before it reached for her.

The school front loop narrowed at the crosswalk. A bus groaned somewhere behind them, and the air smelled like exhaust and wet asphalt. Lou’s phone buzzed once - Sidney’s schedule update, she guessed, though neither of them said it out loud. She didn’t check. She kept her attention on Macklin and Silk, on the way Macklin’s backpack bounced as he walked and Silk’s free hand kept finding Lou’s sleeve to make sure she was still there.

A car door slammed. Someone laughed too loudly. A man in a suit called a kid’s name and waved them forward with a practiced cheer that didn’t reach his eyes. Lou’s skin prickled under it all, the feeling that you could be doing everything right and still get punished for being visible.

Then the slip happened - small, stupid, unavoidable.

As they reached the curbside drop-off lane, the crowd pressed closer. A parent with a delivery bag sidestepped in front of Lou at the exact moment Sidney moved to help guide Macklin around a puddle. Lou’s shoulder brushed Sidney’s arm, hard enough that her balance shifted. Her hand went out automatically - not for Sidney, not for Vanessa, but for the nearest stable thing.

Her fingers landed on Vanessa’s wrist.

Vanessa startled, just a breath, just enough that Lou felt it like electricity. Vanessa’s eyes cut to Lou’s hand, then to Lou’s face, and in that half-second Lou realized she’d grabbed her like a lifeline. Not in a dramatic way - no one would call it romance unless they were already looking for it. But Lou knew what it meant to her body: I’m scared. I need you close. Stay.

Macklin kept walking, oblivious, but Silk turned her head and looked back at them with the blunt honesty kids had. Lou could almost feel the question in Silk’s expression: why did you stop?

Vanessa didn’t yank away. She tightened her grip on Lou’s fingers instead, thumb brushing once over Lou’s skin - steadying, not claiming. “You good?” Vanessa murmured, close enough that Lou could hear her over the honk of a car.

Lou swallowed. Her throat felt tight, not from fear alone but from the intimacy of it happening in public. “Yeah,” she said, too quickly. Then, softer, “I’m fine.”

Sidney’s voice cut in, gentler than the traffic. “Lou?” he asked, like he’d felt the shift too. He stepped closer, not crowding, just anchoring. “You sure you’re not stepping in that puddle?”

Lou looked down - she hadn’t even noticed the puddle. It wasn’t huge, just slick and dark, like oil. Her heart thudded with embarrassment that had nowhere to go.

“I’m sure,” Lou said, and this time she let herself release Vanessa’s wrist. But she didn’t let go of Vanessa completely. She moved her hand to Vanessa’s elbow, guiding her half a step to the side with the same quick competence she used when she was putting a kid’s coat on in the morning rush. Vanessa flowed with it, like she’d been waiting for Lou to decide whether this was a flinch moment or a connection moment.

The woman in the puffy vest had moved closer. Lou saw her watching - eyes narrowed, mouth set in a line that suggested judgment was already forming. The woman’s gaze flicked from Lou to Vanessa to Sidney, lingering a fraction longer than politeness allowed.

Lou stood straighter. She made herself breathe deeper. She remembered, with a sharp twist of resentment, that people loved to pretend families like theirs were confusing only because they were too fragile to understand love. But Lou wasn’t fragile. She was furious. She was tired. And she was still a mother.

Vanessa leaned in toward Lou again, voice soft enough that it stayed private. “We’re doing this,” she said, as if there was a fight in the air. “Together.”

Lou wanted to say something witty. She wanted to say something normal. Instead, what came out was the truth she’d been swallowing all week. “I hate that I have to be brave,” Lou whispered back, and her eyes burned before she could stop it. “Every day. Like I’m about to get in trouble for… for existing.”

Vanessa’s expression didn’t change into pity; it shifted into something steadier. “You’re not in trouble,” she said. “You’re their mom.”

Silk tugged gently at Lou’s sleeve, grounding her. “Are you mad?” Silk asked, voice small.

Lou crouched and brushed her thumb along Silk’s cheek, wiping away nothing because there was no tear yet - just the threat of one. “No,” Lou said, and she made the word solid. “I’m not mad. I’m just - ” She looked up at Vanessa and Sidney, at the way they were both watching the crowd and watching her, like they knew exactly what she was carrying. “ - I’m thinking.”

Macklin came back half a step, eyes narrowing the way they did when he was trying to catch adults in their lies. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Lou’s lungs stalled. The puffy-vest woman looked away at that moment, pretending she hadn’t been listening. But Lou felt the pressure anyway, the sense of being evaluated.

Sidney stepped in, quick and warm. “We’re thinking about breakfast,” he said, and his tone made it believable. “Because you two have practice later and you need energy.”

Macklin accepted it with the relief of a kid who didn’t want to be the one to fix grown-up tension. “Breakfast,” he repeated, like it was a spell.

Silk nodded, relieved too. “And the yogurt,” she said, pointing toward the school doors like she could see it waiting.

Lou let herself smile again. The crowd was still there, the stares still lingering, but the moment shifted just enough to keep her from breaking. She stood, straightened Macklin’s collar one last time, then smoothed Silk’s backpack strap where it sat crooked.

Sidney reached out and took Macklin’s other shoulder - his hand broad, firm, grounding. Macklin leaned into it without thinking. Lou felt something twist in her chest at how natural it looked; like the world could be made to accept them if she kept showing up.

Vanessa stood at Silk’s side, her body angled like a shield. When the puffy-vest woman passed them again, close enough for Lou to catch the faint smell of coffee and detergent, the woman’s eyes softened for half a second - then hardened again, like she’d remembered she was supposed to be suspicious.

Lou didn’t flinch. She didn’t smile too hard. She kept her voice calm as she guided Macklin and Silk forward. “Go on,” Lou told them. “Walk in together. I’ll see you at pickup.”

Macklin glanced back at her, eyes bright and serious. “You promise?”

Lou’s heart lurched at the way he said promise, like he was trying to anchor her to something solid. She nodded. “I promise.”

Silk hugged Lou’s waist for a beat too long - her forehead pressed briefly into Lou’s hoodie, warm and trusting. “Don’t worry,” Silk murmured, like she was the adult and Lou was the kid.

Lou exhaled. “I won’t,” she lied, not because she wanted to, but because kids deserved lies that kept them safe.

They walked into the school together, hands linked, disappearing between the doors and the crowd.

Lou stayed at the curb a moment longer than she needed to. The air felt cooler once the kids were gone, like the warmth had been tied to their presence. Her phone buzzed again in her pocket, and her mind snapped to Sidney’s schedule, the way the day would keep demanding things from them. But she didn’t move toward the car right away. She looked at Vanessa and Sidney, caught between the urge to hide and the urge to reach.

Vanessa’s gaze met Lou’s, and for once she didn’t fill the silence with humor. “You okay?” she asked again, but this time it wasn’t casual. It was intimate, like she was asking for permission to worry.

Sidney’s hand hovered near Lou’s elbow, not touching yet. He was waiting - always waiting for her to decide what closeness meant in public.

Lou realized, with a sharp clarity that made her stomach drop, that the puffy-vest woman hadn’t just been watching. She’d been standing near the doorway on purpose, as if she’d been waiting for the moment Lou would stumble, waiting for proof that their family was messy enough to disapprove of.

Lou swallowed. “I’m okay,” she said, and the words tasted like compromise. Then she added, quieter, “But I don’t want to keep doing it alone.”

Sidney’s eyes softened. “You won’t,” he said, and the certainty in his voice made Lou feel steadier than she expected. Not because he was promising a perfect world, but because he was promising teamwork.

Vanessa moved first. She slipped her hand into Lou’s, fingers warm and firm, and squeezed once - an anchor, not a claim. Lou let herself lean into that touch like it was a decision she could make even under pressure.

Traffic started to move. The school loop shifted, cars inching forward, horns blaring again. Somewhere behind the doors, Macklin’s voice rose for a moment - maybe a teacher’s name, maybe a friend’s - then cut off.

Lou stepped toward the lane, guiding herself with Vanessa’s hand. Sidney followed close enough that his shoulder brushed Lou’s for a second, then backed off the way he always did when he sensed she needed room.

As they moved, Lou saw the puffy-vest woman watching them from the sidewalk, phone already half-raised as if she’d been ready to document the day’s “proof.” Lou’s stomach clenched, cold and sharp.

Sidney noticed too. His jaw tightened, not angry - focused. Vanessa’s grip on Lou’s fingers tightened in response, like a quiet signal: We’re not running. We’re navigating.

Lou managed the next step, the next inch, the handoff to the car lane without letting her face give away how scared she was. She could feel the risk in the air anyway, could feel the morning trying to turn into something else.

When they finally reached the curbside lane and the car door swung open, Lou looked at Vanessa and Sidney and understood the new cost of what she’d wanted all along - being seen, being normal in front of everyone.

She got it.

[PT: Poly-/m-spec orientation pixels (pt. 1)]

Orientation pixels with three gender symbols. Can either be used as polyamorous or multiattractional symbols (ex: the M/F/F symbol can either denote a relationship between a man and two women, or a woman who dates either men or women.)

M/M/M | F/F/F | NB/NB/NB

[PT: M/M/M | F/F/F | NB/NB/NB]

M/F/F | M/M/F | M/M/NB

[PT: M/F/F | M/M/F | M/M/NB]

M/NB/NB | F/F/M | F/M/M

[PT: M/NB/NB | F/F/M | F/M/M]

F/F/NB | F/NB/NB | F/M/F

[PT: F/F/NB | F/NB/NB | F/M/F]

(ID in alt)