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‘i’ll make you something, yeah? your favorite dish, just for you.’

                    𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄. 

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Just once. It’d been the first and last show of true motherly affection that Daphne could remember. Nothing dynamic, but the moment had permanently changed her. That hot summer night, she’d come home crying, sobbing, falling apart, sick with the feeling of a touch she hadn’t wanted, hadn’t been ready for, and her mom had put her back together. For once, she wasn’t too preoccupied by her sisters, or her dramas, or the rocky relationship she held with Daphne’s father. 

In that moment, Daphne had needed a mother, and she had delivered. She had been where she needed her, when she needed her. 

Years later, Daphne had met May Parker. Which wasn’t to say May was like a mother to her, more of a kind aunt, than anything, but the woman exuded maternal energy like a Gucci store permeated wealth. Just being in her presence was SOOTHING, like slipping lavender beneath your bed sheets for a good night’s sleep. Daphne spent more time than she should around her, gluttonous as she soaked up the positive energy May drenched everyone around her in. 

Thanks, May, she chirped. She hadn’t been sleeping well. Hadn’t been eating right. This case was taking more energy than she’d anticipated and sleep had eluded her. It didn’t help that she and Fred were on the rocks again, torn apart by distance and circumstance. She missed her friends, terribly.  Let me help, okay? I want to. I should probably learn how to cook my favorite dish, anyway. Plus I feel bad not chipping in. ”