#it’s just my dad doesn’t remember what he’s done to lead to my mom not wanting to do things or not doing things

[spaceshipkat]

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[shanair]

Rick and Morty X F!Reader | S1E6

Episode Name- Rick Potion #9

Word Count- 4,398

Morty and I stand around at our lockers at school, I scroll on my phone as he gets his stuff. Principal… Vagina speaks overhead on the intercom. Man, our school is a joke.

“Principal Vagina here, don't let the name fool you, I'm very much in charge, reminding you that tonight is our annual flu season dance. I don't know how many times I have to say this but if you have the flu, stay home, the flu season dance is about awareness, not celebration. You don't bring dead babies to Passover.”

I find myself snickering at what probably wasn’t meant to be a joke. I look up at the sound of Morty slamming his locker shut to look over at Jessica, whom her friends had just approached. He doesn’t look in my direction, but I know what he’s going to do- god that idiot needs to stop trying to get with her, it’s so sad to watch.

“Ohhh. Okay, here we go.” I hear him psych himself up, I should stop him. Butttt, sad or not it’s entertaining. He walks over to her nervously. “H-Hey, Jessica, uhh-”

“What's up, Morty?” She greeted before sneezing. Morty stutters again but Brad doesn’t give him the chance to respond. He swings Jessica behind him with his arm, I scoff audibly.

“What are you doing?” He butts in, already up in Morty’s face. I push myself off the locker to stand near Morty.

“Ummm…” Morty stammered.

“Wait, wait. Were you about to talk... to her?” Brad points to Jessica.

“Well, I mean, I was thinking about it.”

“Dude-” Brad taps Morty’s chest, “stay in your league! Look at how hot she is! You don't see me going to a bigger school in a wealthier district and hittin' on their prettiest girl!” Jessica sighs and lets Brad lead her away, I hear her sarcastically mutter.

“Gee, thanks, Brad.”

“I throw balls far. You want good words, date a languager.” Brad yaps as he walks off with Jessica. At least she seemed, happier talking to Morty? I guess? I wrap my arm around Morty, grinning at him.

“Oh don’t worry about it too much, Morty. She’ll dump him soon enough after she’s done with his bullshit.”

“W-well that’s easy for you to say. I don’t want her later, I want her now- so I can go to the dance with her!” He sighs. He does make a good point, I shrug at him.

“Be realistic! There is no way you can make her like you right now. Can we go now?”

“Fine, fine.” He swats my arm off as we go to class.

. . .

I follow Rick into the kitchen as he gets something to drink, Dad stands behind the counter making a complex sandwich while Morty sits solemnly in front of him, with a plate of cookies. 

“...I remember feeling that way about a young lady named your mom, and that's not an urban dis, your mom was my Jessica. I remember the first time I saw her, I thought…”

“--I should get her pregnant, then she'll have to marry me” Rick interjects as he grabs a glass and opens the fridge, I walk over to Morty and steal a cookie. He’s too sad to care, score!

“I beg your pardon, Rick, inappropriate.” Dad warned as he pointed to Morty and I.

“Sorry, please proceed with your story about banging my daughter in high school,” Rick rolled his eyes, “I'm not sure you want to take romantic advice from this guy, Morty, his marriage is hanging from a thread.”

“My marriage is fine, thank you.” Dad replied defensively, turning around fully to Rick as he walked up.

“Jerry, it's your house, whatever you say it is is how it is, but I think a blind man could see that Beth is looking for the door. I barely have a reason to care and even I noticed.”

“Rick that’s harsh,” I add, Morty tacks on.

“Come on, Rick, don't talk about our parents like that.”

“Listen, Morty, I hate to break it to you, but what people call "love" is a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. It hits hard, Morty, then it slowly fades, leaving you stranded in a failing marriage. I did it, your parents are gonna do it. Break the cycle, Morty. Rise above. Focus on science. At least your sister isn’t pinning over a rando anymore.” Rick monologued before leaving the room with his juice. As much as I like to be the better sibling I am still pinning, but at least not to Morty’s level. Don’t know if I should be disappointed or proud of his tenacity. The silence drags out as Dad walks over to us.

“Alright, well, I'm gonna go get dressed for the dance.” Morty said awkwardly before leaving his seat. Dad looks at me awkwardly.

“Yeah, I'm just going to...check on your mom.” He walks off too, both of them leaving me alone in the kitchen. 

“And they both left perfectly good food.” I comment at the discarded cookies and sandwich, I ponder skipping the dance and just sitting here but Morty shouldn’t suffer alone.. I guess. I finish up the cookies while I wait for Morty to finish getting ready. 

Once he’s out of our room I take the chance to get ready myself. I sit on my side of the room, taking my time to get dressed. I don’t care about this dance but I might as well look nice. Besides, maybe Olivia will be there. I’m not a big dress person but I put on an old one that Summer had, I could almost hear her when she gave it to me. ‘What and you’re so skinny then? Fine! You have it then, I don’t care!’, and then she ran out of the room crying. It wasn’t my fault, she asked how it looked on her and I said snug- oh. Yeah, I see why, oops. My dilemma ends when I realize I had zoned out thinking about that memory and now I’m ready. 

I walk to Rick’s garage, knowing that’s where Morty probably was, and I was right. My face dropped as I saw Morty as he was starting to zip his fly down, Rick was leaned over a machine near him with his back towards me. Morty gives me a dumbfounded face, I scrunch mine up in aversion.

“Am I interrupting, or???” I ask cautiously, Morty pulls it back up.

“Rick needed DNA.” He shrugs and Rick shakes his head before turning back to Morty.

“A hair, Morty, I needed one of your hairs! This isn't Game Of Thrones.” He plucks a hair from Morty. Morty shrieked quietly as Rick plucked a strand off his head. He shoves the hairpiece into the machine which deposits an orangey substance into a flask.

“What is this for exactly?” I question while walking to take a better look.

“Your brother wanted to make a love potion, so I used the oxytocin from voles combined with his DNA to concoct this.” Rick picks up the flask, handing it to Morty. “Alright, Morty, whoever you smear this stuff on will fall in love with you, and only you, forever. Ya happy now, Morty?” He walks away to sit back on his desk.

“Heck yeah! Thank you, Grandpa Rick!” Morty cheered as he took the potion happily. “Hey there's no dangers or anything or side effects, right?”

“Www.. what am I, a hack?! Go nuts, Morty, it's full proof.”

“Are you sure, Rick? Positive that nothing will go wrong? No small tiny details?” I push. Knowing Rick there has got to be something iffy about this. You can’t just mess around with love that delicately. Morty tugs on my arm as Rick turns back over.

“W-what are you going to doubt Rick’s invention? Let’s go! Jessica is waiting for me!” Morty frowned as he pulled me out of the room. Oh boy.

. . .

“This isn’t a good idea Morty!” I insist as we walk around the dance looking for Jessica.

“Shh! You’re just jealous… Oh! There she is!” Morty smiled. He pulled the potion out and smeared it on his hands. I sigh and accept he’s going to do this. I instead glance around the gym. It was decently packed, who knew a dance about flu prevention would have no physical aspects to enforce flu prevention? Eh, our school is a shithole anyway. Oh no, our school is a shithole. I can already feel myself worrying about catching the flu again, sure I have the shot, but these kids probably have an advanced strain that’ll mutilate my immune system. I wonder how many people have already spread it around. 

“Hey there, Jessica” Morty reaches Jessica, pretending to trip as he smears the potion on her exposed arm. “Whoops!”

She turns around, I can see the change in her demeanor as she grabs him close to her.

“Omigod, Morty. You look really nice tonight.”

“O-Wow, thanks!”

“I love you, Morty. I love you so much it burns!” I cringe as she starts caressing his face.

“Oh, man. I love you too, Jessica!” Morty smiled like an idiot up at her while Brad shoved in between the two.

“Is this punk bothering you, Jessica?!”

“Leave him alone, jerk!” Jessica hissed as she lost her shit. She gets up in Brad’s face aggressively. “I'm in love with him! He's more man than you will ever be!” She sneezes into his face. Yeah, sure she’s trying to defend Morty, but she could have at least covered when sneezing.

Brad’s face contorts a little before merging into remorse, surprisingly. He sighs.

“Aw man, Morty, ugh, I'm really sorry.”

“Oh, well, no problem Brad.” Morty replied, equally confused as I am. I see him glance over at me and I shrug in return.

“There's somethin' special bout you, somethin' special.” Brad hugs Morty before squeezing his ass. Something’s not right here.

“Whoa, take it easy!” Morty shouted as he pushed Brad off. Jessica grabs Morty’s left arm, narrowing her eyes at Brad.

“Get your hands off of him!” She screeched.

“Back off I'm trying to be with my man!” Brad shouted back before Principal Vagina and Mr. Goldenfold pull him off.

“That's enough Bradley. We don't want you injuring your ball-throwing arm.” Principal Vagina said as they dragged Brad off.

“Never leave me, Morty, never.” Jessica pulls Morty with her and I grab him. I see her glare daggers at me.

“Morty, you need to end this now. I have a bad feeling.” I whisper to him in a hushed voice. I overhear Brad's calling out for Morty as he’s brought out of the gym. “See?” Morty gives me a nervous look before Jessica intervenes.

“You have a problem, bitch?!” She gets in my face, pushing Morty behind him. “You want him too?! You can’t have him! You can never have him– or take him away from me.”

“Jesus Christ Jessica no I do not want to… take Morty away from you, I just want to talk to him.��� 

“LIAR!” She shouted before grappling me.

“Jessica stop it!” I hear Morty protest, and other students look at us strangely. I throw Jessica to the ground but she immediately stands up, running at me like a madman. Okay why is it always Morty getting us into these situations, I can’t even go a week peacefully. But I’m his sister, so today cannot be the day where I start ditching him. So of course, I square up.

. . .

Jessica ends up shoving me into the crowd, and one of her friends catches me. She fucking growls at me before turning back to Morty. She pushes herself up against him. 

“Do it, Morty. Do it. Rip my clothes off and mate with me for life!”

“Jessica, get a hold of yourself!” The friend cried out before dropping me and rushing up to Morty to hold him as well. “You don’t deserve to carry Morty’s genes.” Simultaneously, everyone surrounding the fight gets the same possessive look in their eyes. I’m pushed back as even the DJ starts to sing about Morty.

“I love Morty and I hope Morty loves me I'd like to wrap my arms around him and feel him inside me”

“Oh, crap. Morty!” I shout over the crowd as they all crowd and fight each other for Morty. I get trampled partially as I push against the rushing crowd into the opening. The exit pushes open behind me and I look up to see Rick.

“(Y/N)!” Rick steadies me as he sees Morty sprinting towards us, the crowd scrambling behind him. “Morty, come on! We got to get you out of here. You're not gonna believe this because it usually never happens, but I made a mistake.” He shuts the door as we rush past, and the doors are immediately rammed into by the horny crowd. 

Another door bursts open as Principal Vagina runs behind us.

“Morty, are you okay?”

“I'm fine!” He shouts back.

“Oh, good. If anything ever happened to you, I would kill myself. I love you bad, mo-mo!”

“Ha! You got Mr. Vagina in love with you Morty! M-maybe I am jealous!” I grin through my labored breath. Jeez, this dress is not the running kind.

“Morty, the principal, and I have discussed it, a-a-and we're both insecure enough to agree to a three-way!” Another voice speaks out, I turn around and see Mr. Goldenfold. My eyebrows rise at the prospect but we make it outside. We rush into the ship, Morty trips but I turn him over into the seat. As I grip the handle to pull shut, the crowd pushes it in for me. The vehicle shakes as we settle in. 

“I didn't realize when I gave you that serum that Jessica had the flu you know, t-t-t-t-t-t-t-that might have been valuable information for me, Morty.” Rick groaned as he started the ship.

“What the hell is going on, Rick?!” Morty and I ask. Rick glared at our combined question.

“What does it look like? T-t-t-the serum is piggybacking on the virus. It's gone airborne.”

“Oh, crap. What are we gonna do, Rick?” Morty wailed.

“It's gonna be fine, Morty, relax. I whipped up an antidote. It's based on praying mantis DNA. You know, praying mantises are the exact opposite of voles, Morty. I mean, they-they mate once, and then they, you know, decapitate the partner. I mean, it's a whole ritual. It's really gruesome and totally opposite. There's no love at all. I-I-I basically mixed this with a more contagious flu virus. It should neutralize the whole thing, Morty. It'll all be over very shortly.” We fly over the crowd below after Rick pours his antidote into the ship as it expels a mist version over the crowd. “Uh, by the way, Morty, I know you didn't ask or anything, but I'm not interested in having sex with you. These serums, they don't work on anybody related to you genetically.”

“Uhm, obviously!” I retort. “I think we’ve picked up on that. Wait, considering Morty and I are twins, why aren’t they attracted to me?” 

“Y-you guys aren’t technically identical twins. You two share most of the same DNA initially, but when your chromosomes changed to XX instead of XY that’s a biggg difference.”

“Is it?”

“Ya, because I said so–”

“OH MY GOD!” Morty screeched, startling me as he stared in horror outside the window. I look out it also, everyone hit by the ‘antidote’ turned into an amalgamation of a praying mantis. Rick grimaced himself. 

“Okay, well, sometimes, science is more art than science, twins. A lot of people don't get that.”

. . .

We had parked the ship in a desert canyon. We stand and watch different broadcasts across the world looking for Morty so they can have sex with him before chopping his head off. He paces and freaks out.

“Oh, my god, Rick. The whole world is infected!”

“Yeah, it's pretty wild how fast that spread. I've really outdone myself.” Rick gloats, working on something else connected to the ship.

“Outdone yourself?! W-w a-are are you kidding me, Rick? This is not okay! Not only do they all want to have sex with me, but, you know, now they want to eat me afterwards!”

“Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. Mantises are they opposite of voles? I mean, obviously, DNA's a little more complicated than that. You know what, though, Morty?” He pulls out another vial, this one filled with a purple liquid. “This right here's gonna do the trick, baby. It's koala mixed with rattlesnake, chimpanzee, cactus, shark, golden retriever, and just a smidge of dinosaur. Should add up to normal humanity.”

“I don't that doesn't make any sense, Rick. How does that add up to normal humanity?” 

“What, Morty, you want me to show you my math? I'm sorry a-are you the scientist or are you the kid that wanted to get laid?”

“It’s not his fault for being cautious, first you left out important information after we specifically asked for it, then you mess up fixing that mistake and start an apocalypse! Clearly, you don’t know what you’re doing!” I fuss, and Rick sighs obnoxiously.

“Okay, fine, whatever. Since you’re the smartass, you can make a serum to end this.” I stay quiet because I in fact know nothing about what he’s doing. “Exactly, get in the car.” We pile back in before flying back into civilization. The town is already wrecked, fire and destruction everywhere. It’s scary how fast this happened. I’m starting to get nervous now, what if Rick really can’t fix this? He nudges my shoulder. “Take a good look down there, (Y/N), and soak it in, because, you know, once I pull this lever, it's all back to normal.”

“I hope so. Just do it already.”

“Well, technically, (Y/N), there's no rush. I mean, you know, o-once it's fixed, it's done. It's fixed. You know, we could we could just enjoy it for a little bit. I mean, l-l-l-look at how crazy it is. I mean, (Y/N), w-w-when's the next time you're gonna see something like this? I mean, soak it in, you know? It's it's pretty neat. It's pretty interesting.”

“Please shut up–”

“That's it, Rick! I'm pulling the lever.” Morty yells as he pulls the lever, releasing the new antidote. Everyone melts back to normal.

“W-what do we have here, twins? Looks like I was right and you were wrong, huh? I-I-I-I-I-I-I bet you feel pretty stupid right about now, huh? I-I-I bet you both feel like the world's smallest kids that you were doubting me about this whole thing.”

“Oh, Rick,”

“Something's not right.” I exhale as everyone outside starts to crumble down to the ground. Their bodies convulse unnaturally.

“Yeah, you. You're not right ever.”

“No, no! Look, you idiot!” I force Rick to look outside. Everyone screamed as they turned into these fleshy bug-looking creatures. Many with extra appendages, eyes, and some even wings. 

Morty and I watch in horror as Rick once again screws up everything. Albeit this idea was Morty’s, Rick could have stopped this if he had just warned us in the beginning.

“Bet you're loving this. This must be the best day of your life. You get to be the mayor of I told you town. You're welcome.” Rick babbled drunkenly as he drank more from his flask. 

Holy shit. This is irreversible, isn’t it? The world is in ruins because of Morty’s stupid hormones. Everything is different now, it’s unfixable. What’s happening with our family right now? What if they got ripped apart by those… things? The sun rises on the broken world as we settle down on a rooftop. We walk out to sit on the ledge.

“Boy, I really cronenberged the world up, didn't I? We got a whole planet of cronenbergs walking around down there. Hey, Morty. A-at least they're not in love with you anymore, though. That's a huge step in the right direction.

“Oh, my god! It's a living nightmare! How could you be so irresponsible, Rick?” Morty cried.

“Me irresponsible?! You- all I wanted you to do was hand me a screwdriver, Morty! You're the one who wanted to be wanted me to buckle down and make you up a... roofie-juice serum so you could roofie that poor girl at your school. I mean, g w-w-w-w-w w are you kidding me, Morty? You're gonna try to take the high road on this one? Y-y-y-y-you're a little creep, Morty. Y-you're a you're you're you're just a little creepy... creep person.” Rick lectured as he stood up. Fine, Morty was a creep, is a creep. But Rick is still the ass here.

“All right, fine. I should have just listened to you when you refused to make the serum. I'm willing to accept my part of the blame for this, Rick. But I'll tell you something you know what? You got to accept your part of the blame! I'm not the one who fooled up the serum! I'm not the one who-who-who-who haphazardly, you know, mixed a bunch of nonsense together and created a bunch of cronenbergs! You got to fix this, Rick!” Morty yells defensively as he stands up as well.

“Yeah, Rick! Fix this! There are millions��� no billions of lives that are now destroyed because of your crappy serum! Okay? This one is on, you!” I stand up as well, crossing my arms. I now realize how messed up my dress is but in a less torn fashion than Morty’s. I cannot believe I’m saying this but, I miss Summer. Rick steps closer to us, trying to reconcile.

“All right, all right, Morty. You know, w-w-w-we are in a pretty deep hole, here, but I do have one emergency solution that I can use that'll kind of put everything back to normal, relatively speaking. Here, Morty, put this on while I do a little bit of scouting.” Rick tosses Morty this metal backpack with a green panel, before putting on goggles. This better be a good plan.

. . .

IT WAS NOT A GOOD PLAN!!! Morty and I freak as we walk through a portal into a different dimension. Three identical bodies to our own lay mangled on the ground, blood everywhere.

“Oh, my god, Rick!” I cover my mouth in shock and fear as the metallic smell rushes into my face.

“Is that us?! W-w-w-we're dead! What is going on, Rick? I'm freaking out!” Morty cried hysterically.

“Calm down, you two!” Rick shouted but we tuned him out.

“Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t do this– I cannot, do this.” I pace around while Morty makes more noises of disgust combined with fear.

“I can't deal with this, Rick!” Morty shook his head as Rick grasped him.

“Calm down, Morty!” Rick shook him as I grabbed a trash can and promptly vomited into it. My eyes are pricked with tears at the brutality and the sickly feeling in my stomach.

“This can't be real!”

“You got to calm down, Morty.” Rick reiterates as I retch more, standing up I move over to the two.

“Rick! W-w-w-we-we’re ripped apart!” I stammer, he reaches over and grabs my head before knocking it into Morty’s. The shock shuts us up as he makes us focus on him.

“Shut up and listen to me! It's fine. Everything is fine. There's an infinite number of realities, and in a few dozen of those, I got lucky and turned everything back to normal. I just had to find one of those realities in which we also happen to all die around this time. Now we can just slip into the place of our dead selves in this reality and everything will be fine. We're not skipping a beat, twins. Now, help me with these bodies.”

“This is insane.” Morty muttered as he crouched down near ourselves. Rick hauls up his own body.

“Look, guys, I'll grab myself, you grab yourselves, okay? I mean, t-t-t-that seems fair to me I mean, that seems like a fair way to divvy it up.”

“Rick, what about the reality we left behind?” I sniffed as I walked over to my body. Her eyes were still open and bulged out like they were looking straight at me. Rick’s voice droned in my head as he spoke.

“What about the reality where Hitler cured cancer, (Y/N)? The answer is don't think about it. It's not like we can do this every week, anyways. We get three or four more of these, tops. Now, pick up your dead self and come on. Haste makes waste. I-I-I don't suppose you've considered this detail, but obviously, if I hadn't screwed up as much as I did, we'd be these guys right now, so, again, you're welcome.”

I suppressed my feelings as Morty and I followed Rick’s orders. We picked up our bodies, dragging them to the backyard. With every step, I felt not like myself, as if I was pushing my consciousness away. It was like I was a bystander, watching myself as I pulled another version of myself. As I dig the grave and push my body into it. I’m thinking of the God complex we must have as people. What of everyone in this universe? They’re the exact same, but they aren’t. Mom, Dad, Summer. They’re the same people, but not our people. We left our family in the universe we ruined. No goodbyes, or even anything to show that we’re okay– to see that they’re okay. The fact that we can do something like this… it’s abhorred. We’re going to live with this family that lost us, what gives us the right to replace them? Walking into the untouched home, I can tell Morty shares the same daze that I’m in. Our parents argue and shout at each other, but the only thing I hear is the ringing in my ears. The only thing I can truly see is my body staring up at me. Rick sits on the couch, unbothered next to a different Summer. Sitting next to her is strange. Everything’s okay now, we left that universe behind, and now, we can carry on with ourselves. Rick must be right, this is the best outcome we could get in our situation, right?

[corroded-hellfire]

Okay okay so dad!Eddie picking up his kid after preschool instead of Reader and taking them out for ice cream as a treatttt? ily wifey

Anything for you, my darling! So glad that you love dad!eddie just as much as I do! 💖

Words: 1.8k

“Surprise, baby.”

The hands on your hips startle you, making your husband chuckle against your ear. He slides his hands around to your front and tugs your body back against his.

“What’re you doing home?” you ask.

“Slow day at work,” Eddie says, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Figured I’d take the afternoon off and spend it with my family.”

Grinning, you spin around in his arms, and reach up to cup his cheeks. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest man ever?”

“That’s what they say,” Eddie retorts with a wink. 

“Well, I was just about to leave to pick up the little troublemaker,” you say. “But I think he’d like it if his Daddy showed up instead.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, the most adorable expression on his face. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you say with a laugh. “But watch out for those moms.” You pout, holding a finger up at him. “They all think you’re hot and you’re mine.”

“Like any of them could compare to you,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Should we go out to dinner tonight?”

“Spoiling us today, aren’t you?” you ask with a smirk. “Sounds nice, though.”

Giving you one last kiss, Eddie pats your ass, making you squeal as he pulls away. “Maybe tonight we’ll try and give the rugrat a little sister.” Before you can respond—a flush coming to your face—he throws you a wink and is heading out the front door. Eddie could be a menace, but he knows you love it. 

The halls of the small school are loud as Eddie makes his way to his son’s classroom. There’s a small crowd surrounding the classroom door, mostly of mothers waiting to pick up their small children. 

“Eddie, right?”

Eddie turns his head to see a vaguely familiar looking woman with short black hair, giving him a blindingly bright smile. 

“Yeah,” he says, giving a polite smile in return. He really hopes she doesn’t expect him to remember her or her child because he’s coming up short. 

“I’m Eva. Andy’s mom.”

“Right,” Eddie says, nodding his head. He’s almost positive he’s never heard her nor Andy’s names before.

“Your wife is usually here, right?”

Obviously, since I’m not, he thinks. 

“She sure is. Figured I’d come get the little one today,” he says. 

“That’s so sweet,” Eva coos. “You’re such a good dad.”

I mean, he’s my kid too, Eddie thinks. 

Thankfully, the classroom door opens, saving Eddie from having to come up with a response. Over a dozen tiny humans pour out of the room, scattering like ants to find their parents. A joyful and familiar gasp greets Eddie’s ears.

“Daddy!”

“Jack!” Eddie grins and scoops his son up in his arms, peppering kisses all over his face. He’s distantly aware that some moms are watching him, and he’s not sure whether he should tell you about it to say that you’re right, or to ignore it so you don’t get that little nerve twitch in your eye that happens when you get jealous. 

“I missed you!” Jack wraps his little arms around Eddie’s neck, making his heart swell. The four-year-old pulls back to look at his dad. 

“I missed you too, pal,” Eddie says. “How was school?”

“S’good,” Jack says as Eddie places him back down on the ground. He reaches his little hand up and grabs onto his father’s. “We learned a new song. And then we got to color, and I stayed mostly in the lines this time.” 

Eddie can’t help but beam as his son chatters on about his day, leading his dad by the hand towards the exit of the school. Once they get to the car, Eddie picks Jack up again, pressing a few more kisses to his face as the little boy giggles.

“Daddyyyy!”

Ceasing his attack, Eddie chuckles and smooths down the light brown curls adorning his son’s head. His hair might be a little lighter than his dad’s, but his eyes are that same intense brown that has mom melting with a simple look, just like she’s always done with dad. 

“Let’s get you buckled in, yeah?” Eddie sets Jack’s small backpack down on the seat and helps Jack get situated in his booster seat. Unable to resist pressing another kiss to his boy’s head, Eddie does so one more time before getting into the driver’s seat. “I was thinking. How would you feel about getting some ice cream?”

Jack’s eyes light up, making Eddie grin from where he can see him in the rearview mirror. 

“Yes!” Jack squeals. 

Eddie turns the radio on as he pulls out of the parking lot. Ozzy Osbourne’s Crazy Train is playing and as Eddie begins to sing along, he hears Jack attempting to sing along, mostly babbling along to the general tune of the song. A glance in the mirror sees Jack shaking his head around as well, an honorable attempt at head banging for a toddler. When Eddie parks in front of the ice cream parlor, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns around to face Jack, playing the air guitar to the song. The little boy giggles and starts to flail his hands around in a good imitation of air drumming. The song ends and Eddie lets out a deep breath. 

“Ready?” he asks his son.

“Ready!”

Getting out of the car, Eddie scoops his son out of the backseat and holds him up over his head. 

“Super Jack!” Eddie calls. The toddler holds his tiny fists in front of him like Superman soaring through the skies. Grinning, Eddie lowers him and holds the boy on his hip as he steps into the ice cream shop. “Okay, what flavor do you want?” 

Jack hums as his big brown eyes take in the wide variety in front of him. Eddie can practically see the drool leaking from his mouth. “Stwawberry!”

“Strawberry,” Eddie repeats. “Sounds good. Sprinkles?” Jack turns his head to give his father a look of, “duh.” Eddie chuckles and rubs his hand against his son’s stomach. “Right, right.”

Once Eddie has his cone of mint chocolate chip and Jack has his strawberry with sprinkles, the two sit across from one another in a red vinyl booth in the 50’s themed parlor. 

“How was school?” Eddie asks. 

“Good,” Jack says, little legs kicking underneath the table.

“What did you do?”

“Dunno,” Jack answers.

“You don’t know?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You telling me that I send you to preschool everyday just for you to come home and forget everything you did? Are they brainwashing you?” Jack giggles and shakes his head. “They hypnotizing you?” The little boy continues giggling even though he’s not sure what “hypnotizing” means. But it’s his daddy joking with him, so he’s going to laugh. 

“Had show and tell,” Jack says after another bite of ice cream. “I showed the buttons you put on my backpack.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks with a grin. “How’d the rugrats like the Iron Maiden and Megadeth pins?”

“They liked Casey’s pet bunny better,” Jack says with an adorable pout. 

“Kids got no taste,” Eddie says, shaking his head. 

“Daddy?”

“Jack?”

“I want—.”

“A bunny?” Eddie interrupts. “Sorry, pal. I don’t think so.”

“No,” Jack says. “S’not what I want.”

“What is it then? More ice cream? We’re going out to dinner with Mommy, so no more.”

“I want a baby sister.”

Eddie almost chokes on the lick he just took of the bright green ice cream. “What?”

“Brian brought pictures of his new baby sister,” Jack says of his best friend. “He told us all about her and I want one.” 

“Jesus, you and I are more alike than we already knew,” Eddie mumbles under his breath before addressing his son. “Uh, I’ll talk with Mommy about it, okay?”

“K,” Jack says as he finishes up his ice cream. “Brian says his Mommy carried the baby anyway. So yeah, ask.”

Eddie chuckles, knowing his son is envisioning his mother holding a baby in her arms, instead of how Brian’s mother carried the kid’s baby sister. 

Eddie carefully opens the front door, balancing his sleeping son in his arms. Whether it was the sugar rush or the lulling drive home, Jack had passed out halfway to the house. Quietly shutting the door behind them, Eddie presses a kiss into Jack’s curls. Padding softly down the hall towards the little boy’s bedroom, Eddie meets you coming out of your shared room.

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling at the toddler tucked up in your husband’s arms. Eddie rests his head against the soft curls and throws you a wink.

“Hey, gorgeous. Looks like all the excitement from having Dad pick him up has worn him out.”

“Either that or a sugar high,” you say. Eddie’s eyes widen and before he can open his mouth, you laugh and gesture to where a pink splotch has smooshed against Eddie’s shirt from your son’s. “Strawberry, huh?”

“What a messy rugrat,” Eddie says with a sigh. He smooths down some of his curls, gazing down fondly at the sleeping boy. 

“Like father, like son,” you tease. 

“Oh, more than you know,” Eddie says with a smirk. Raising an eyebrow at him, you follow him to Jack’s room. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? The moms at school aren’t flirting with him too, are they? Because then I have serious concerns.”

Eddie huffs a laugh as he lays Jack down on his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle blanket. 

“No,” he says as he stands back up. “Though apparently Andy’s mom knows me for some reason. Ah, there’s the twitch of the eye! Anyway, no, your son told me he wants something today. Something I very recently told you I’d like as well.”

“And what might that be?” you ask, following Eddie as he walks out of the bedroom. 

Eddie snorts and shakes his head. “You’re going to think I’m lying.”

“Since when have you ever lied to me?”

“Okay,” Eddie says as he walks into the kitchen. He turns around to face you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Jack told me he wants a baby sister.” Your eyes widen, making Eddie laugh. “Swear to God. He said Brian brought in pictures of his baby sister and now he wants one.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you decide to throw a curveball at Eddie. “Okay. Come on.” You turn on your heel and stroll out of the kitchen.

“What?” Eddie asks, following you into the hallway.

“Do you want to get started or no?” You look down at your watch. “We’ve probably got half an hour before he wakes up. Want to get a move on it, or what? Babies don’t make themselves.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, practically throwing you into your bedroom. Your laughter crackles through the house, but Eddie puts a hand over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart. Or am I going to have to put that mouth to use?”

[ronearoundblindly]

ALSO from the kiss list: ransom and #45, 46, or 47???? ur ransom from the root of all ransom is so 😩😩🫠🫠🫠🫠

Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader from The Root of All Ransom series

Out of Spite, one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024

Summary: Ransom's childhood home gets sold in his parents' divorce. The first time you see it is the last time he ever will.

Warnings for cursing and dirty memories from our boi. DEEP FEELS. If you've never read any RoAR, that's fine! You just need to know that Ransom is a filthy, bitter man who used to defile his parent's house any chance he got. Oh! And that Harlan did tell Linda (Ran's mom) about Richard's (Ran's dad) cheating. MINORS DNI. There's plenty for you on my Light Masterlist, but this one is not for you! WC 1746

He didn’t think he’d feel this way.

Everything is different but exactly the same.

Ransom can remember when this house was a happy place. Of course, it felt that way only when he was very young and really stupid. He actually thought his parents loved each other back then.

Fucking idiot.

He learned quickly though. Once he paid attention, that’s when he saw. His father didn’t look at his mother that way; Richard looked timid or indifferent, waiting for the money decisions he floated to be approved, waiting to make sure Linda hadn’t stumbled on some evidence of his indiscretions. Meanwhile, Linda…worked. That was it. She just worked.

A child sees that. Whether they are ready to or not, a child sees.

Ransom didn’t understood why that sort of relationship was so fucking infuriating—because if that’s your relationship, don’t have a fucking child,—but he saw.

Just like fashion and furniture and people, he can tell in one look what he doesn’t want.

He doesn’t want…whatever the fuck this was.

Ran drags his hand over the polished wood banister to lead you upstairs to his old bedroom. It’s now a gym, and in a month, who knows, because in his parents’ divorce, the house is getting sold. His dad has ten more days to move out.

Unsurprisingly, nothing has been packed yet. Richard pays someone else to do that, like he and Linda paid someone else (many other people) to raise Ransom.

He didn’t think he’d feel this way on the last occasion he’d ever be in this house.

He’s hated it a long, long time. He used every opportunity he could to taint and tarnish everything from floor to decor, invisible marks of defiance that his parents never saw, or if they saw, they never understood.

Ransom doesn’t lack respect completely; he just lacks respect for them.

And yeah, to be fair, there are less than a handful of people on the planet he’s found he can respect, but he is capable. They just aren’t worthy, and he doesn’t fucking care.

He thought he’d feel anger or bitterness. He thought he’d feel a sense of justice, maybe, because this veneer of unity is finally being stripped away. He thought, at very least, he’d feel a marked disappointment because they could have done better. His parents are capable of better. They just fucking weren’t.

He feels…nothing.

He feels nothing when you two walk past the railing where his prom date, Candace, almost took a short drop and a sudden stop because she’s an adrenaline junkie and wanted him to fuck her while she held on with nothing but her acrylics. Ransom had to fake coming because he was so distracted by the thought of having to clean up that bitch’s brain from the foyer.

He feels nothing as you two traverse the hall where he terrorized the nannies, throwing whatever he could get his grubby fucking paws on and aiming for them every time.

He was awful; why doesn’t he feel awful?

He still feels nothing when he flicks on the light at the southernmost room and sees…no trace of the first nineteen years of his life. Maybe he feels nothing because there is nothing?

Ran told his mother, point blank, that she could burn anything he left behind for all he cared, and at the time, he didn’t care one iota. Those memories were not worth one red penny to him. He derived more joy from knowing what he’d done here and left for them to clean up than he did from any of the actual stuff.

That’s the thing. Even if the stuff didn’t bring him joy, that was all he had for nineteen years. Possessions hold value to him because emotions didn’t fucking exist in this house, unless you count denial, arrogance, and willful ignorance.

He’s so caught up in his emptiness, he’s forgotten all about speaking during this little tour.

You follow him around, silently, from room to room in a too big house that unsuccessfully contained the egos of only three people. No one was fucking happy. No one wanted to be there. Everyone had to be there, for appearances.

You rest your arm on his shoulder and run your fingers through the short hair at his neck, but you don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. He feels nothing.

And so you two head down to dinner with Richard, a bizarrely familial toast to the house before it’s on the market.

Ran’s father hasn’t cooked, mind you, because that would really be the cherry on the weird shit sundae. No, it’s a catered meal for three fucking people in a house owned by none of these three people.

However, if there’s one skill passed down through generations of Thrombeys and Drysdales alike, it’s ignoring anything going on around you that you don’t care about (and the not caring in the first place, so two skills). Ransom is a really skilled Thrombey and Drysdale.

He has no fucking idea what the conversation is about over the course—courses—of the meal, but he watches you in an awe that makes him feel sorta queazy. How can you still smile and nod at Richard? Ran reached his limit weeks ago, and you’re still barreling through what he can only imagine is the finest, superficial bullshittery the whole county has to offer.

Why?

Why are you here?

This place is not a fucking home. 

Why are you putting up with this? Why put up with him, for fuck’s sake?

But the emptiness swallows that outrage as fast as his mind can churn it out.

“Ya know, I think I’ll take my plate in,” you say sweetly to his father, standing, so there’s no argument to stop you. “I never got to peek at the kitchen.”

The help part like the sea for you.

Richard chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his drink. “Not sure I ever really peeked in there myself,” he mutters. 

“Please, allow me,” he hears you encourage from around the corner. “I’d like to look out the window.”

Ran mouths ‘window’ questioningly to Richard, who suddenly remembers that they redid the deck and added a pergola eight months ago. Ransom vaguely remembers his mother griping about contractors, but he didn’t listen to the details. He didn’t fucking care.

He’s up and heading for the kitchen before his father can offer to have dessert served outside.

Ransom, clearly in a mood, tells the caterers and wait staff fuck off to a different room when steps in. He has no clue if he knows them previous events. It doesn’t matter.

He’s engrossed, watching you rinse a plate in the sink, something so simple it hurts.

Because the kitchen, Ran thinks, is where you prove you can stand another person—you trust them with your food, they can know what you like, and you aren’t afraid of them in a small space with knives. This is the place where couples work together. They spend time getting things for each other, making things for each other, even when they don’t have to.

In that sense, this is not and never has been a kitchen. It’s a showroom, but tonight it showcases you.

He walks over and looks where you look. Beyond the reflective pane with your faces is a canopy of lights overlooking an open space the length of the house.

It’s beautiful, just one of many helpful additions made after he left. Some other family will get it now. Some other kid will enjoy it. For once, Ran wishes people he doesn’t know a happiness he never had. That’s new, too, that feeling.

Pride swells in Ransom. No one can take that from him.

He is not a good man, but he’s proud as fuck not to be his parents despite their indifference. It’s a miracle he isn’t exactly the same as Ol’ Dick in the dining room, alone, scared for what the future holds when the money runs out.

That was a near miss of fate, Ran remembers, because if he’d been backed into the same corner, if you hadn’t been there to offer a lifeline, he would have fought. He would have killed to survive.

That’s what he knew. That’s what he learned in this house. Fight. Kill. Show no emotion. It doesn’t matter anyway. Each man, woman, and child for themselves.

Richard and Linda live with the consequences of their actions; Ransom lives with the consequences of his parents.

He turns to you, a hand on your hip, and sees you warp you mouth in apology.

“Needed a break,” you admit quietly.

Ran snorts. “I hear that.”

“Just dessert and then home,” you hum. “No drinks outside, okay?”

Then it dawns on him. When he bought his current house, its true beauty was not being this one, but that’s not all anymore. Ran can make a house into a home. He can make himself into the home you deserve, the one he would have killed for.

This house may hold bad memories, but he can make new ones. Houses can be expanded, lit, and warmed. Space can be made to fit the needs of those using it.

His mind can do that, too. Ran can do that.

So, out of pure spite for the wretched monument all around him, he leans over with a smile and kisses you fiercely.

Such a simple thing. A new memory. One happy memory to bury in this dead place and leave forever.

He’ll go back to his home, with you, and get you water from the kitchen even if he doesn’t want any. He’ll watch you cook, and you’ll ask him to taste it or hand you things just a few feet away. You’ll sit in ‘his’ spot on the couch because the new place for him is with his head resting in your lap. He sees it all very clearly.

His parents were right about something: it doesn’t fucking matter. This house doesn’t have to matter to him. Only his real home should do that.

When dinner is over and you two shut yourselves into the Beamer, he looks back one final time.

He doesn’t have to care. He doesn’t have to feel anything. There will be empty spaces in his life, but that’s okay. That’s a consequence of living.

You voice Ransom’s innermost thoughts just before he turns the key in the ignition.

“Good fucking riddance.”

Jimmy Dobyne and a kiss in public ⬅️ ➡️ Steve Rogers and a kiss where it hurts

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @starkleila @tenaciousperfectionunknown @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @ellethespaceunicorn

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

The Decay of Complex Characters and Character Development in Helluva Boss (Stolas and Octavia’s Relationship: Part 2 of 2)

Part 1 here

I felt I had to make separate part just for “Seeing Stars” because my other post was getting way too long, and I wanted to really focus on the treatment of Stolas and Octavia’s by the writers.

Please know that this is JUST my opinion and not a personal attack on HB’s writers or creators. I’m talking and venting a bit about my personal frustrations with the series regarding what I perceive as being MAJOR plot holes and inconsistencies in the show’s writing.

As of right now—and I do want to acknowledge this could change, but as of right now—it largely seems like any character development Stolas may have gone through after “Loo Loo Land” has been completely tossed out the window.

I personally believe that the writers of Helluva Boss think that they are writing Stolas to be more complex, but he has yet to have to actually be held accountable for his actions, and for breaking his promises to Octavia.

And the way the writers present him has really come to bother me. So I wanted to talk more about it, and about how Stolas cannot become a well-written, complex, and engaging character until the writers let him actually be imperfect and complex.

To talk about this more in depth, I gotta go over the second episode that features Octavia, Season 2, Episode 2 of Helluva Boss—“Seeing Stars”

(TLDR at the end)

To start, “Seeing Stars” is narratively very similar to “Loo Loo Land”. By “very similar” I mean that it’s almost the exact same plot, but frustratingly more clunky. Here is an extremely short summary:

The main crux of the conflict in “Seeing Stars” is that Stolas forgot about a promise he made to Octavia to go see a meteor shower, and ends up neglecting her.

Specifically, he forgets because he is too busy yelling at Stella over the phone due to their contentious divorce. Octavia feels let down by her father again, and runs away to the human realm to see the meteor shower on her own.

Stolas and I.M.P. panic and go after her. Eventually Loona finds her and gives her a speech that essentially boils down to: “everyone’s got hardships and problems but Dads ESPECIALLY have problems. Your Dad is trying really hard right now. So that should count for something right?”

And that comforts Octavia in the moment. Octavia and Stolas reunite, he asks her why she ran away, and she tells him she was trying to see the meteor shower he promised to take her to. Stolas is horrified that he’d forgotten, starts to apologize, but Octavia cuts him off and tells him “it’s okay”, forgiving him.

I rewatched “Seeing Stars” before making this post to make sure I hadn’t misremembered any crucial plot points.

I thought I remembered that, at the very end of the episode, Stolas apologized to Octavia for breaking his promise and then she told him it was okay.

It turns out I had misremembered things, because the writers literally kept Stolas from saying sorry.

This leads to the main criticism I have of Stolas as a character, especially from a writing standpoint. The narrative does not allow for Stolas to ever truly be in the wrong, or for anyone, including Stolas, to fully acknowledge that he is in the wrong.

And I know that it’s easy to go “BUT LOOK! Octavia says “I know, Dad”! She KNOWS that Stolas is sorry.

That’s fair, but for me personally, I think an EARNEST and verbal apology is needed here to show that Stolas has grown.

I’m very lucky in that I have a good relationship with my parents, but that doesn’t mean we never fought or they never said or did things that hurt me.

I distinctly remember a time when my Mom was apologizing to me for something she did, I said “it’s okay” and she immediately replied “No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me”.

That really changed my perspective on conflict. I think a lot of people, including myself until then, consider “it’s okay” to be a form of saying “I forgive you”. And I’m not trying to police like…basic language and substitute words. But I DO strongly believe in taking responsibility for when you hurt someone.

In all honesty, I think this scene actually could have worked for Stolas’ character development if he had actually acknowledged that, “No, it’s not. It’s not okay that I broke my promise to you. I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me, but if you can’t right now, I understand.”

THAT, to me, shows character development. That would’ve shown that Stolas is, at the very least, trying to make an actual effort to change for the sake of Octavia.

Instead, though, SHE apologizes Stolas for running away to try and see the meteor shower that HE promised to take her to. And the writers refuse to even let Stolas say he’s sorry.

Let Stolas say he’s sorry, writers! Let Stolas be in the wrong!!! I promise it won’t make people hate his character!

I mean, jfc, just look at the fandom around Hazbin’s Valentino. That guy could not be more evil if he tried and a lot of fans can’t seem to get enough of him.

My other issue with the treatment of Octavia in this episode, SPECIFICALLY the speech that Loona gives Octavia near the end.

Because. Oof. There’s a lot to unpack. Firstly:

Maybe it’s just me, but I find the way the writers have Loona frame this situation as being really really weird. To be clear, I don’t think it starts off too badly. Everyone DOES have issues, and that can affect the way they act and treat others and make mistakes.

That said, dads are not inherently more messed up or dealing with more difficulties than anyone else.

Dads have issues the same as any other person, but they don’t get special privileges or passes because they’re dads. They’re responsible for themselves like every other person with issues and difficulties, and they’re still responsible for themselves and their mistakes.

It’s especially frustrating because the writers are using Stolas’ “issues” as a crutch to excuse their bad behavior. This happens a lot with writers trying to excuse or justify their character’s actions. The “issues” can be anything from a difficult childhood, relationship troubles or divorce, a traumatic experience, etc. but these things should never be used as a way to excuse a character’s every mistake and flaw.

Effective writing will use a character’s history to explain the reasons a character acts or behaves a certain way, not excuse that behavior. This leads to characters that the audience can become more invested in, and can form different opinions or interpretations about.

A really great example of this is Bojack Horseman, whose terrible upbringing and abuse definitely garner audience sympathy, but the writers never use this to as a justification for the Bojack’s behaviors. Bojack continually makes really terrible choices that hurt the people he cares about the most, and while we as the audience still sympathize with him to an extent, we still get frustrated with Bojack, and be disappointed by him.

The audience finally gets some catharsis from this frustration when Bojack is called out by his best friend Todd for this, after he finally breaks any remaining trust in their friendship with the following quote:

“You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep doing shitty things, and then feel bad about yourself like that makes it okay! You need to be better! [Bojack apologizes and then continues to make excuses] …BoJack, stop. You are all the things that are wrong with you. It's not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened in your career, or when you were a kid—It's you. Alright? It's you. Fuck, man. What else is there to say?”

In my opinion, Helluva Boss’ writers seem to be determined to write the exact opposite of this sentiment.

The writers frame Loona’s speech to Octavia as a heartwarming moment—a moment where Loona helps Octavia realize that Stolas cares about her and is trying his best, so Octavia should cut him some slack.

This is, quite frankly, a BAFFLING scene because Loona’s behavior for the ENTIRE EPISODE is her assaulting and yelling at her dad. Like, she has given Blitzø absolutely NO slack before this moment, and then doesn’t give him any in the scene DIRECTLY after this, where she assaults him again while he’s in the middle of apologizing to her.

Not only is it odd to have Loona tell Octavia all of this and then not act on it herself, but the whole scene really reads as the writers trying to sweep Octavia’s very valid and real feelings of hurt over her father’s neglect under the rug.

And look. Trying to be better can be important. Trying to change and be better IS worthy of being acknowledged. But at a certain point, as Todd points out to Bojack, you have to actually be better.

In part 1, I talked about how the end of “Looloo Land” had set things up for Stolas to start being more conscientious of Octavia’s feelings and needs. He took the first step of making amends with her, of listening to her and her concerns and fears.

“Seeing Stars” was an episode that could have shown him being better. But instead. Well.

In her speech to Octavia Loona says this:

And to be fair, Loona didn’t know what hijinks Stolas and Blitzø were getting up to in the city. She probably did think Stolas was looking for her.

…Except…he kind of wasn’t…

During the search for Octavia, Blitzø gets mistaken for a famous Hollywood actor, and he and Stolas are essentially kidnapped to be in a sitcom. When this first happens, Stolas is anxious, clearly upset that there search has been further impeded:

He’s scared that Octavia could be in danger, or hurt. Stolas seemingly wants to find her as soon as possible.

Well. Once they get to the Hollywood sitcom shoot, the following scenes happen:

STOLAS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???? YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU DIDNT HAVE TIME FOR THIS ??? BLITZØ DIDNT EVEN WANT TO PERFORM, AND YOU MADE HIM! WHY?!?! YOU DONT OWE THESE PEOPLE ANYTHING? THE TV PRODUCER EVEN LEFT THE ROOM BEFORE THE SHOW STARTED, NO ONE WAS KEEPING YOU THERE!!!

WHY ARE YOU INVESTED IN THIS AND WORRIED ABOUT THE AUDIENCE NOT LAUGHING?!?! STOLAS YOU LITERALLY JUST SAID YOUR DAUGHTER COULD BE IN DANGER IN THE VAN, WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY SO CONCERNED WITH MAKING BLITZØ ACT IN THIS SITCOM???? STOLAS YOU DONT KNOW WHERE YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER IS?!?!?

I just…I’m sorry, I just think this episode is so so clunky and so poorly written. I think it may be one of the episodes with the least consistent character writing.

The scene continues, Stolas gets distracted by how attractive he finds Blitzø, and Blitzø acts in the sitcom for so long that even Stolas looks bored and out of it.

At this point in the story, he doesn’t know where his daughter is, if she’s hurt, or in danger, or even why she ran away in the first place. But instead of that taking the absolute top priority for him, he takes time to watch Blitzø make bad jokes in a wig for the whole afternoon.

Stolas isn’t even the one to get them out of the Hollywood studio, Blitzø is. Blitzø has a panic attack about the thought of Loona being taken from him during the sitcom shoot, and that’s what sparks them escaping.

The two escape the studio and meet up with Octavia and Loona, and the episode ends with Octavia apologizing for running away, and Stolas not having to apologize to her for his mistakes because Octavia already knows he’s sorry.

In Part 1, I talked about how at the end of “Loo Loo Land”, the writers set up the building blocks for Stolas’s character development in regards to his relationship with Octavia. S1 E2 of Helluva Boss ends with Stolas listening to his daughter, realizing his actions hurt her, and acting like he’s going to start putting her first.

“Seeing Stars” undoes all of that development. Which wasn’t even that much character development in the first place. Just the kicking off point for Stolas’ growth as a character.

Reviewing this episode made me realize that Stolas’ character development may have actually regressed. He doesn’t keep his promise to Octavia, he starts flirting with Blitzø when he should be looking for her, and wastes valuable time fucking around with Blitzø on a sitcom set.

And listen, I KNOW that Blitzø got Loona to look for Octavia right after he and Stolas got kidnapped by the tv producers. But after they get out of the Van, WHY does Stolas just continue to go along with it? He was so concerned and scared for Via before, wouldn’t he want to get back to looking for her as soon as possible?? And have as many people as possible working on finding her???

Blitzø doesn’t even want to go on the sitcom and for some reason Stolas makes him! The tv producer had left the room at that point too, and Stolas is a DEMON PRINCE, no one was keeping them there!

Stolas gives the reason for Blitzø needing to perform to be “so they can get back to looking for Via” but they can just do that without having to be in the sitcom?

I think the writers might have written dramatic irony into the story without meaning to? Loona tells Octavia that “[Stolas is] down there. Looking for you”, but we as the audience know that’s not true. Stolas wasn’t looking for his daughter. He was watching Blitzø star in a bad sitcom for 5 hours.

This becomes extra frustrating and gut-wrenching for me when I think about Octavia right before Loona’s speech about how “dads are special and have it extra extra bad and try extra extra hard and that’s super important, even if they fuck up and hurt you”

This scene is absolutely heartbreaking to me. This is a 17 year old girl who has been repeatedly let down by one of the people she looked up to and relied upon the most, who rightfully feels abandoned and like she no longer has a home.

Specifically the line “Why does he hate [my mum] more than he loves me?” hits extra hard.

I don’t know what it’s like to have divorced parents, but I can imagine that anyone who has may have had this exact thought. Octavia needs support more now than ever, and keeps getting let down by the adults around her, and it just breaks my heart to see this young vulnerable girl not really have anyone who acknowledges that what Stolas did was hurtful. That it wasn’t okay, and that she’s allowed to be upset about it.

The reason she exists in the story isn’t to be her own person and to have character development of her own. She exists just to be Stolas’ daughter, and to forgive him for his wrongdoings and make him seem like a “good” person because even though he has issues, he still loves her! That makes him a good dad!

And I don’t know how Octavia is broadly accepted in the HB fandom, but I’ve heard that she may not be liked very well, and I don’t understand how anyone could see this scene and think she’s annoying or terrible.

Honestly, I would NOT be as frustrated and disappointed by the writing in this episode, if the writers and the fandom at large didn’t treat this episode like it had a heartwarming and satisfying resolution. If the writers treated Stolas as a complex person who is able to make mistakes, and who still really needs to own up to his actions and take responsibility for his broken promises, I would probably like him a lot more as a complex and nuanced character.

But the way the writers frame Stolas as being in the right, or being the victim, or being fully justified in all his actions isn’t just bad writing. It’s boring. Stolas is a boring character because the writers do not allow him to be in the wrong, to be morally ambiguous or dark, or to be called out or held accountable for his mistakes.

The writers MAY somehow undo the damage they already did in “Seeing Stars”, but given the way that the writers, show creators, and fandom go out of their way to excuse any morally grey, questionable, or harmful decisions Stolas makes, I’m not going to hold my breath.

TLDR:

-Despite Octavia being hurt by Stolas again, the writers refuse to put him in any situation where he’s held accountable for his mistakes

-The writers use Stolas’ “issues” to excuse away his bad behavior. And specify that Octavia should cut Stolas some slack because he’s a dad and being a dad is extra hard I guess?

-the framing of the episode acts like Stolas did everything in his power to look for Octavia when he clearly didn’t (he was goofing off with Blitzø)

-Stolas is ultimately uninteresting and not engaging as a character because the writers go out of their way to excuse his behavior and mistakes even when he’s in the wrong.

-Stolas cannot be a complex character if he is always absolved of the consequences of his actions and is not allowed by the writers to be better (in my opinion)

Also sidebar—WHY DID HE NOT CALL OCTAVIA ON HER PHONE!?!

In the VERY first episode of HB Stolas is LITERALLY INTRODUCED TO US by calling Blitzø on his phone and watching Blitzø in the human world from hell, without the use of his Grimoire!! HE HAS THE POWER TO DO THAT!!!

I was like, maybe Octavia didn’t have her phone for a SECOND before remembering that LOONA FINDS OCTAVIA BY LOOKING AT THE PICTURES SHES POSTING TO SOCIAL MEDIA WITH HER PHONE.

Like Stolas do you not know ur own daughters phone number. AND YOURE GIVING BLITZØ A HARD TIME ABOUT NOT KNOWING MOXXIE’S?? Also when Blitzø is in danger you can pinpoint his exact location, travel to the human world without the grimoire terrify and reveal your existence to MULTIPLE humans with absolute disregard for being discovered, but when your OWN DAUGHTER is missing and you have NO idea why or if she’s in danger, suddenly you have time to run around LA for a day getting into shenanigans???? She’s your DAUGHTER. No wonder she doesn’t think you care about her because I sure as hell don’t after that episode. Lord.

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 4

Hello! And welcome to part 4. Edie has more questions than answers, but we’re finding more and more out as the story unfolds.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

*

Eddie wiped away a stray tear that had escaped his eyes before stepping out into the garage.

“Hey, you kids almost done?” he asked. He looked at his watch. “It is getting late.”

Kenny looked up at the clock. “Shoot, man! My mom is going to kill me.”

Mandy swore too. “I’m getting a ride home with you, right?” she asked Kenny. He nodded and they hurried to put their stuff in his car.

They waved goodbye and then Eddie was alone with Harri and Edie.

“How’s Dad?” she asked. “Still puking?”

Eddie shook his head. “I managed to get him into bed.”

Edie rocked her head back. “What? Dad never lets anyone help him to bed. Not even those who can straight up carry him.”

Eddie blinked. “Uh...he let me.”

“He let you what?” Edie asked tilting her head in confusion.

“Carry him to bed?”

“Oh,” Edie said. “Wow. So how do you know my dad?”

Eddie looked over at Harri before shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the floor. “Your dad and I used to run together with Nancy and Jon and all them after high school. Well after Steve graduated, anyway. Me and the rest of us older kids graduated in ‘86.”

“You’re younger than my dad?” Edie asked.

Harri scoffed.

“Shut it, kid,” Eddie barked. “No, I’m older. It just took me three tries to graduate.” He glared over at Harri. “Something I trying to make sure this idiot doesn’t repeat.”

Edie frowned, remembering her dad’s comment about not raising a quitter. “You know, it’s strange. I don’t think I’ve ever heard your name before in my life, but I can’t help but think that I’ve been raised on stories of you my entire existence nonetheless.”

Eddie blushed. “Can’t say I did the same. Harri here wouldn’t have heard of Steve Harrington at all. At least not from me.”

“Wait,” Harri said. “That guy that that your old bandmates talk about all the time. The one they keep telling you to make up with, that’s Steve Harrington, isn’t it? What the hell, Dad.”

Eddie grimaced. “Jeff and Gareth have a very inflated sense of ego.”

“Jeff Lawrence?” Edie asked. “Mandy’s dad?”

Eddie pursed his lips. He was going to kill Jeff. It was one thing to say that Steve and him had kept in contact over the years but it was quite another for his daughter to be best friends with Steve’s.

“That’s the one, princess,” Eddie said tossing his head back and rolling his eyes. “Only Jeff was friends with me first.”

Harri kicked his dad’s ankle. “Hey, Uncle Jeff is a grown ass man, he can be friends with whoever he wants. And since you guys aren’t in the band anymore and we were still living in Cali it makes sense Uncle Jeff would want to connect with someone from the old crowd.”

Eddie sneered playfully. “I hate it when you get all cleverer than me.”

Edie was glancing back and forth between them like a tennis match, but finally she had enough. “You’re telling me that not only do you know Mandy, but that you’ve known her dad for years?”

Harri and Eddie both grimaced in unison as they had completely forgotten she was there.  

“I didn’t think about how I knew Mandy,” Harri said. “We just started hanging out when we moved here about a month ago and then when she said you guys needed a new guitarist...”

Edie smacked her forehead. “Yep. That’s on me. I didn’t ask either.”

Harri scuffed his shoe on the pavement, looking down. “Am I still going to be allowed to be in the band?”

Eddie’s heart sunk. He looked over at Edie and then back at his son. They were both expecting him to say no. But how could he do that to either of them? It wasn’t their fault.

“What kind of asshole would I be if I said no?” he asked. “Of course you can still be in the band.”

Harri looked up at him all smiles and hugged him. “Thanks Dad!”

Edie smiled at them both. “Thanks, Mr Munson.”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah. Come on, Harri. It’s time to go home, you both have school in the morning.”

“Bye, Miss Thing!” Harri said after giving her a fist bump.

“Bye H-man!” Edie said.

Edie watched as the two Munson boys walked away. Her dad had a lot of explaining to do.

*

Edie walked into Steve’s room and was impressed by what she saw. The drapes were closed, the light was off, and Dad was actually under the covers. Something no amount of bullying on Aunt Robin or Nancy’s part could ever achieve.

Dad hated being taken care of. But in less than two hours of this man coming into her home, her father had let down more walls than the entire time she had been on this earth.

Who was Eddie Munson? And why did her dad treat him differently then anyone she had ever known.

She knelt next to Steve’s bed and gently roused him from sleep.

“Hey,” he murmured as he slowly got up. “Is everyone gone?”

Edie sat down next to him on the bed and took his hand. “Yeah, they’ve gone.”

Steve nodded. “You must have so many questions.”

“Oodles and gobs,” she agreed. “But I’m going to be nice and wait until your head is no longer trying to kill you.”

He grimaced. “What, so you can finish the job?”

She chuckled. “Something like that.” She played with the ring on his right hand. She once had asked him if it was his wedding ring to Mom, but he’d told her no. It was from something else. From someone else. And now, she was pretty sure she knew who. “Do you need some pain killers?”

Steve nodded barely able to contain his whimper. Edie got up and the pills and a Gatorade. She came back and handed them to him. He took the pills and chugged half of the Gatorade, before handing it back to her.

“Thanks, love,” he murmured and got back under the covers.

“You’ll want to shower and change before you completely are down for the night,” she reminded him gently.

Steve nodded again. “Just a few minutes. Time for the medicine to work.”

“Of course.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

Steve hummed in response and she knew she would have to wake him again when she came back.

*

Steve woke up the next morning better than he usually felt in the aftermath of a migraine. And he knew who to thank for it. He also knew that had he not been in the throes of one of his worst in recent memory, he would have been a lot bitchier. Hurray for migraines, he guessed.

He didn’t have any appointments today so he didn’t have to cancel anything which was a life saver. He could even have Edie take herself to school. He got up and shuffled out to the kitchen in his pjs.

Edie was munching on her cereal when he got out there. “How’s the head?”

Steve waved his fingers back and forth. “So-so. You okay to take yourself to school today?”

She nodded. “Yeah, no trouble.”

They stared each other down for a minute before Steve blinked first.

“So what do you want to know?” he asked, turning on the kettle.

Edie steepled her fingers under her chin. “We can start with how did you meet mega-producer Edmond Munson?”

Steve laughed. “When I met him he was on his first senior year of high school, jumping on tables and ranting about ‘the man’.”

Edie’s eyes went wide. “What?!”

Steve shook his head. “I knew who he was then. And probably before that. As sort of a ‘oh look there’s that dude again making a menace of himself’ kind of way.”

“He really stood on tables and ranted about ‘the man’?” Edie asked incredulously.

He shrugged. “The topics would vary but, yeah. Pretty much the same theme of kids are being oppressed type thing.”

“But you were a preppy jock in high school,” Edie said. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

“Yeah, I was the King and he was the Freak, never the twain shall meet,” Steve agreed. “That’s what he was called, don’t give me that look.” Edie rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” she growled, “but none of this explains how you guys knew each other. Because this sounding like you didn’t.”

Steve leaned on his elbows onto the counter and looked her dead in the eye. “I want you to understand one thing and one thing only. If you go looking this shit up after I tell you, you will be grounded for life. Because it’s been twenty years and he deserves to let sleeping dogs lie. Do. You. Understand. Me?”

Edie’s head jerked back. This was like those moments when she asked about his scars or the many concussions he’s had. Her normally goofy dad was replaced by someone darker, someone who had walked through hell and lived to tell about it. She nodded quickly, her eyes wide.

“Back in his final senior year, the year Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Argyle all graduated,” Steve said sternly, “he was accused of murdering a cheerleader. Something your Uncle Dusty swore he would never do. And you know how tenacious he can be when he puts his mind to it.”

Edie nodded. “He’s like a dog with a bone.”

“So we went on this hunt to find Eddie,” Steve continued. “And sure enough he was being railroaded and we tried to clear his name. He almost died.” The last sentence was whispered, pulled from from the very depths of his soul and he hung his head between his shoulders.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “Really?”

Steve lifted his head and straightened up. He pinched his nose and rubbed it with his knuckle. “Yeah. He got cleared of all charges and then few months later he was gone. Signed a record deal.”

“Your friend that had a band...” Edie muttered. “That was him?”

Steve nodded. “But it’s time for you to go to school. We’ll talk more later.”

Edie knew that she still had a couple of minutes before she needed to go, but she accepted it as the dodge it was. Dad was getting emotional and needed a break.

She nodded and got ready to go. She kissed his cheek. “Love you dad.”

***

Part 5  Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

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[moonlight0934]

No One Else To Turn To

Kageyama grabs the last volleyball, and puts it away with the rest of them. Oikawa shoulder checks him as he walks past, and Kageyama stumbles.

“Sorry,” Kageyama mumbles.

Oikawa doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge him, heading straight out of the door. Iwa glances at Kageyama.

“I’m sorry about him, just ignore him.”

Kageyama nods as Iwa runs to catch up to Oikawa. He finishes up cleaning, then heads back home. The lights are off, and his dad’s car isn’t in the driveway, so Kageyama heads straight to the kitchen to make dinner. The house is dead quiet, but Kageyama is still careful not to make too much noise pulling out dishes, or mixing anything up.

Eventually the door opens, and Kageyama’s father walks in. Kageyama steps out of the kitchen, and waves at him.

“What do you want, boy?”

“I made dinner.”

“Good, I’m starving. Put it on the table, and go up the stairs.”

Kageyama nods, then heads back into the kitchen. He grabs the food, then takes it to the table with a plate and utensils. He goes up the stairs after that, knowing that he should get some homework done before his dad goes to bed, and he’s allowed to eat.

He barely makes it to his room before his dad screams his name. Kageyama freezes with his hand on the doorknob. He sighs, and heads back down the stairs. His dad is standing in the doorway to the dining room, red in the face, and obviously angry.

“What the hell did you make? Are you trying to poison me? This isn’t even edible!”

Kageyama frowns.

“I’m not sure what’s wrong with it, I’m sorry though.”

His dad crosses the room in a second, then slaps Kageyama across the face.

“Go to the closet and pick something for your punishment.”

Kageyama walks to the closet in the hallway. He opens it with shaking hands, and looks at the random items scattered around it. He got a concussion from the boot last time, and the umbrella left really noticeable bruises. So, he grabs one of his dad’s belts, and comes back. He’s still shaking as he holds out the belt for his dad to take.

Twenty minutes later, his dad storms out of the front door, leaving Kageyama on the floor. He’s bleeding from how hard his dad hit him. Blood is dripping down his arms, and bruises cover his back. Kageyama shakily pulls himself to his feet, and peeks out of the window. His dad’s car is gone, so he steps out of the house.

I can’t deal with this myself. What should I do?

Kageyama takes a deep breath, then starts walking. At first he isn’t sure that he’s going the right way, but eventually he finds the street he’s looking for. He knocks on the door, praying that he remembered the number right. Oikawa opens the door, and they stare at each other in surprise.

“I must have the wrong house. I was looking for Iwazumi, I’m sorry.”

“No, this is his house. He went out with his mom to pick up groceries. I didn’t want to go, so I just stayed here. What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t know who to talk to.”

Oikawa looks him up and down, his eyes widening further.

“Come inside.”

He steps out of the way, and Kageyama walks inside. He slips his shoes off, folding his arms to catch the blood with his shirt instead of letting it drip on the floor.

“What happened to you?”

“I got hurt,” Kageyama replies, his eyes filling with tears.

Oikawa stands completely still for a few seconds, obviously out of his depth. Then he leads Kageyama over to Iwa’s room, and sits him down on the bed.

“I probably shouldn’t sit here. I’m dirty.”

“You’re fine.”

Oikawa pulls a first aid kit out of Iwa’s nightstand. Kageyama looks around, taking in Iwa’s room. There’s a desk with homework scattered across it. There are posters on the wall, and volleyball stuff scattered around. A bookcase in the corner is full of school and fantasy books. Oikawa gently takes Kageyama’s right arm.

“What happened to you? I need you to be honest with me. What did this to your arm? Do you have any other injuries aside from your arms?”

“A belt did this to my arm. My dad was mad at me, but I’m fine. It’s just a few spots on my arms that need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

Oikawa makes a face.

“You dad did this to your arm?”

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is. That’s abuse. Does he normally do this? Is that why you’re so reserved?”

“No, my dad says it’s because I’m autistic.”

“Kageyama, does he normally do this?” Oikawa asks, choosing not to question what Kageyama just said.

“Only if I do something bad.”

“What did you do?” Oikawa asks, sounding doubtful.

“I didn’t make dinner well. He didn’t like it.”

“You made dinner for him, and he didn’t like it, so he beat you?”

“Beat is a pretty harsh term.”

“But it’s accurate.”

Kageyama shrugs without moving his arm that Oikawa is holding. He lets out a pained hiss when Oikawa pours rubbing alcohol on his arm. Once he finishes cleaning his arm, Oikawa slowly wraps Kageyama’s arm in bandages.

“How did you hide this? We’re around each other so much, and we even change together.”

“It’s normally not so noticeable, and then I just stay away from people who are observant like Iwa.”

Oikawa pulls back, shaking.

“Are you ok? I can try to do the other arm if you’re not.”

Oikawa takes a deep breath.

“I’m fine.”

He grabs Kageyama’s left arm, and starts working on that one. He’s only half way through bandaging it when the front door opens.

“Can you finish this?”

Kageyama nods, and finishes wrapping his arm as Oikawa rushes to meet Iwa and his mother. Kageyama can hear them talking, but he can’t hear what they’re saying. Oikawa sounds scared and unsure. Kageyama turns back to what he’s doing. It’s almost ten minutes before Iwa comes in.

“Hey.”

Kageyama waves.

“I’m sorry that I came to your house without any notice.”

Iwa sits down on the floor, facing Kageyama.

“That’s ok. That’s why I gave you my address. It was so you could come here if you needed anything at all. We just want you to be safe.”

Kageyama hums, looking down.

“My mom is going to call someone, and you won’t have to go home.”

Kageyama looks back up at him.

“Where will I go?”

“I’m not sure yet. Either to one of your relatives, or a foster home.”

“I don’t have any family other than my dad, and my grandpa. He’s too old to care for me.”

Iwa hums.

“Then I guess you’re going to live in a foster home. My parents are going to make sure that you end up somewhere with people that are going to treat you right. They even have friends who foster, so maybe you’ll be able to stay with one of them.”

Kageyama nods.

“Ok.”

“Come on, you should come eat dinner with us.”

Kageyama nods again, standing up. He follows Iwa to the kitchen where Oikawa is putting plates together. They sit down to eat in silence.

[midnightkens]

Paper Doll

TW: Domestic violence, child abuse, referenced alcoholism and strangulation.

The best part of having a window seat on a long flight, Colt thinks, is the direct view of the night sky. Twinkling stars rarely make an appearance in Los Angeles, but thousands of feet off the ground, they shine brightly. It’s one of the very few things he misses about his childhood in Florida. Home was often terrifying and chaotic, but sometimes, Mom and Dad would take him to Everglades National Park where they’d stay until dark, swallowed by stars and a calming quietness. Dad would be sober, Mom would be happy, and he would bask in the attention so rarely offered to him. They could be a happy family, if only for a few hours.

Then he and Mom fled to Los Angeles to be closer to her family. Dad, left in another drunken stupor, was served divorce papers in Florida. The illusion of a happy family had long since shattered, and there was Colt, sad, aching, anxious energy always itching just under his skin.

Always talking too much, always in the way, and for God’s sake, Colt, stay still!

Colt shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. Thinking about his childhood sends him down rabbit holes that take hours to claw out from. The stars are still oddly soothing, somewhat decent company while the plane’s other inhabitants sleep. He blinks blearily, eyes gritty with exhaustion, but sleep won’t come easily tonight. His mind races in circles, each scenario more disastrous than the last, and it takes every ounce of willpower he possesses not to jiggle his legs.

The worry is impossible to turn off. His stomach aches, and he leans his head against the window. He hasn’t felt so anxious since his fall and the horrible recovery that followed. But this feels worse.

Ken is in danger, and he’s on a flight to London for some film he doesn’t even care about anymore.

It’s intuition. Patrick reminds Colt far too much of his father, and Dad always became more dangerous when he sensed that Mom was about to leave. Ken doesn’t talk about Patrick often, and Colt follows his lead. But he does know a few things: Patrick can go on hours-long rants about the smallest perceived slights. He’s possessive. And worst of all? He isn’t afraid to use his fists.

Ken hides it as best he can with coverup, but years of growing up with his father taught Colt what to look for. To an untrained eye, the bruises would be invisible. The grimaces that just barely flash across his face would stay hidden, the hisses of pain barely audible. But Colt knows.

Ken isn’t as invisible as he believes. There are so many people who love him, who see him. Patrick has never even scratched the surface.

Unbidden, memories of his last meeting with Ken flicker before his eyes. He remembers how soft Ken’s lips felt on his, how they’d whispered a quiet I love you, how he’d declared that he was leaving Patrick in part to be with Colt. Colt’s heart had nearly exploded with elation, but any shred of happiness had been rapidly replaced with terror. Colt isn’t afraid of Patrick, but he’s terrified of what Patrick could do to Ken.

Don’t worry about me. I can handle him. I’m gonna pack my stuff before he can even guess what’s happening and dump him in a public place.

Ken had thought it all through. He can be impulsive, but he’d clearly planned all of this out without thinking of his own safety, and the thought terrifies Colt. If Ken is concerned about his own safety, he’d done a fantastic job of hiding it.

Colt shudders against the sudden chill that creeps down his spine. Growing up with an abusive father taught him early to trust his intuition.

And right now, his intuition is screaming at him.

Everything is about to go wrong, and he shouldn’t have left.

***

Colt gingerly lowers himself onto the bed with a groan. He wouldn’t want to work in any other field, but he can’t deny that stunt work takes a bigger toll on him than it used to. If he overdoes it too many days in a row, he spends at least a week paying for it. He’s been in London for a few weeks, and now that his part is done, he can go home.

He knows the drill by now, though. He’d given himself a couple of extra days to do absolutely nothing but relax in bed.

He sighs in relief when the heating pad eases the tension in his aching muscles. He grabs his phone to check his messages. True to his word, Ken has texted him every day so far, keeping him updated on his situation at home. The last text came through hours ago, and Colt’s heart unclenched. Ken’s bags were almost packed. He was almost free.

So far so good! 😊 Love you!

Colt looks at the timestamp and frowns when he double checks the timestamp. It’s 3 PM in Los Angeles. Ken not texting him for hours is strange. Maybe he’s just hyperfocused? He has a lot of stuff, and he gets sidetracked easily…

Everything okay?

He swallows, throat suddenly tight. The text goes through, and he waits for a few minutes for the familiar gray ellipses to make their appearance, but they never come. He’s probably just packing. Colt opens TikTok, but he can’t focus. The minutes pass by agonizingly slowly. The ticking clock is loud in his ears, almost mocking. Colt scowls and barely manages to smother the urge to throw the clock across his room. It wouldn’t do anything but cost him money.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

He’s watched the same video four times and hasn’t absorbed any of it. He scrolls mindlessly, periodically checking his text thread with Ken again. Radio silence is unusual. He scrolls upward. Maybe Ken had a shoot today and Colt forgot, or maybe he’s out with Barb.

The messages offer no clues. He buries his face in the pillow, begging his racing mind to slow down. He can’t even go for a run without his back aching, so now he’s stuck in a lonely hotel room with no company other than his thoughts.

***

There’s an annoying buzzing sound. Colt scowls and shoves the pillow over his ears, but the noise only gets louder. Colt huffs and sits up.

“What the fuck?” He mutters. He spots his phone on the pillow. It’s lit up, a name that Colt can’t see on the pillow. Who the hell is calling him at 4 AM? He leans closer, breath hitching in his throat as soon as he spots the name.

Barb Hanlder

It’s not that he and Barbara aren’t friends. They are! She’s funny and charming, and Colt enjoys her company. It’s just that they’re both don’t call me unless you’re my partner or it’s an emergency people. The phone continues to buzz, and Colt stares at it, his heart clenching with panic. Something is wrong. The buzzing stops and almost immediately starts up again, and Colt swallows.

He shouldn’t have left. He should have stayed home, stayed with Ken and made sure he was safe. Why didn’t he do it?

He feels floaty. Detached from his body. He watches as he picks up the phone and hears himself ask, “Did that motherfucker kill him?”

Barb chokes on a sob. “Colt, Colt, thank God you picked up, it’s so bad I – Wait. No. No. He didn’t kill him. He – “ Barb sniffles and takes a few shaky breaths. “He tried, though.”

Colt closes his eyes. He knew it. “What did he do?”

And so Colt listens as Barb tells him the story, how she and Gloria came to Ken’s apartment to find him barely conscious on the floor. How he’d been choking for air, how he’d gone limp as soon as Barb walked through the door.

When she describes the bruises on his neck, he swallows bile. He puts Barb on speaker and starts frantically gathering his things, ignoring the sharp pain that runs up his spine. He yanks his suitcase from its home on the closet floor and unceremoniously shoves his clothes into it. He should have stayed. He should have stayed and helped Ken pack his things. Patrick never dared to fuck with Ken whenever Colt was around. Colt takes great pleasure in knowing that the other man is terrified of him. All Colt has to do is flex, and the bravado instantly disappears. If he’d been there, this wouldn’t have happened. Ken would be safe. He needs to see the other man with his own eyes, see the rise and fall of his chest, needs to see his big, blue eyes open and wide with life. “I’m getting on the first flight outta here. I’m coming home.” The words is he okay almost fall from his lips, but he stops himself just in time. What kind of question is that?

“How is he?”

Barb hesitates. “Physically? So far he’s okay. It doesn’t look like there’s any internal damage. He’s awake. Ummm. He can’t really talk. His vocal cords took heavy damage, but his voice should be back in a few weeks.”

Ken’s voice. It’s one of the things Colt loves the most about him. It’s deep and soothing, and when he sings, Colt always stops to listen. His voice is smooth; it never cracks. And his singing voice is one of the very few things he’s confident about. A violent attack stole that from him. Colt grips the edge of his suitcase so tightly that it creaks under his hands. That evil bastard has stolen everything from him.

I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.

“Colt? Are you still there?”

Colt takes a few deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth, just the way the therapist he saw after his injury taught him. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, sorry. I’m here. You said he’s awake?”

“He’s awake, yes. Gloria and Ryan are in there with him right now. We’re not leaving him alone. He hasn’t really interacted much. He’s in shock, I think. The doctors ran a million tests when he woke up, and then he just…I dunno. He’s staring into space a lot. He doesn’t even seem to realize that we’re here. You’re coming home?”

Even over the phone, Barb’s voice is thick with unshed tears. How long has she been holding it together for? “I’m coming home, yeah. How are you holding up?”

“Oh.” Barb sniffles, and Colt pictures her wiping her eyes. “I don’t know yet. Ask me later. I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet.”

“Fair enough.”

Colt zips his suitcase, not even bothering to give the room his usual final check. Stuff be damned. Clothes and shoes can always be replaced. He and Barb hang up, and the next thing Colt knows, he’s at the airport.

How did he even get here? No matter. Even at 6 AM on a Monday, the line is long, and he groans. Why is this taking so fucking long?

His phone vibrates and he fishes it out of his pocket. God, he’s ready to snap. The irritation ebbs as soon as it appears when he sees who the message is from.

Ken: So Barb told you what happened

It’s not a question. Even over text, he sounds dejected. Resigned. Colt wants to call him, he’s so desperate to hear Ken for himself, but then he remembers the vocal cord damage and sighs. She told me. How are you?????

For five minutes, Colt watches Ken start typing, stop, then start again. His hands start to shake when the next text comes through.

I’m really fucking scared.

Ken isn’t embarrassed to admit when he’s afraid of something. He’ll readily admit to being afraid of bugs, heights, and horror movies. He’s only ever refused to admit fear a few times, and each of those had a common denominator.

Patrick.

It’s the final nail in the coffin. Colt tastes salty tears, but he makes no effort to stop crying. He wants nothing more than to see Ken, to hold him close and to ease his terror, but he can’t. The next available flight is over twenty hours long with two connections. Colt jumps at the chance. If it’s the best they can do, then so be it.

Don’t worry, he texts back. I’m coming.

[whatisamildopinion]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @actual-sleeping-beauty! For my WIP, I'm gonna post a little snippet of my fic that is technically done, but is a wip in the sense that it is currently on an updating schedule. This liltle bit is from my Fantasy High aasimar Riz au, Priesthoods and Beasthoods, from the chapter going up on Sunday. Remember that time the Bad Kids went to jail for over a month? Wild. Anyway, here's a snippet from that:

“Do you ever wish your dad had been around? Do you miss him?”

The silence comes back, but this time she is less worried she has done something wrong. This is the silence of Riz carefully organizing the thoughts in his head that runs so far ahead of his body. 

“Not really,” he says quietly. “Mom has always been enough for me. And I’ve always had one of Mom’s friends around as another half-parent. I don’t know what having another parent would feel like. I’m figuring out my magic on my own. I’ve got friends. I’m not missing anything.” A pause, heavy. “And, you know. He’s a celestial. It’s been fifteen years. I sort of figured that, you know, the chances that he doesn’t know are pretty slim. No sense missing someone who doesn’t miss me.”

Fig closes her eyes under the weight of it, feels it drop in her stomach like weighted bags, spilling drifts of loose sand through her guts. “Ah,” she murmurs. 

“Ah,” he echoes, and they both sit in silence for a long moment. 

Her bones feel like they’ve been filled with lead, her chest clenched tight in a vice. She thinks about her friend, who she sometimes finds sleeping in her backpack during school, who is always hungry but saves her cherry scones whenever Fabian brings them snacks because he knows she loves them, whose magic makes her break out in hives but is still bright and wonderful. She thinks about anyone not wanting him, and she feels so angry, but mostly just really sad. 

----

It's pretty close to past Wednesday as I post this, but if anyone wants to share one of their WIPs, consider this an open tag! I would love to see what you all are working on!

[elisysd]

4. I love you, it's ruining my life

Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Fortnight - Taylor Swift ft Post Malone

He didn’t miss Kentucky's sun if he was honest. Or more like he didn’t miss working like a mad man under it. It had been a long time since he had sweated that much. He had spent his day with his dad taking care of the farm. It reminded him of his childhood, years before he had left the US to follow his dreams.  His father had complained a lot when he had arrived to tell them that he was there to help. But he couldn’t stand still. He hated how he had not been there when his mom told him about his dad’s stroke. It hurt him when she had said that she didn’t want to bother him while he was about to win his second title. His family was important. More important than anything. He would have dropped everything to be there. So, to ease the guilt feeling he had made sure his dad benefited from the best and most expensive treatments. It was the least he could do.

“We are thinking of upgrading the barn.” his mom told him, showing him the plans.

“We also want to buy newer equipment. You send us more money that we can use, Kyle,” his dad mumbled.

“I have too much money. It’s only fair that you get some of what I earn. After everything you’ve done for me.”

“I can still remember when you were a kid and you were begging me to tie your kart to the tractor so you could fake going fast.”

Kyle laughed. He remembered those days. It was a bittersweet feeling. He had left home at thirteen years old to integrate a school in Italy where many promising athletes who had to be away from home were studying. Everything had been made to accommodate him so he could travel for races. It had been tough but the whole experience was part of his best memories. He couldn’t forget about the many sleepovers with Ludwig and Ethan during race weekends, too. They were his brothers and he would give his all for them. 

“So, ready for the season? How is the car?” his dad asked.

“We don’t know for sure. Simulation wise, it’s nice but we only will know for sure in Bahrain.”

“You are the big favorite, though.” 

“Everyone improves each year. Winning last year doesn’t mean that it will be the case this year. Especially since we don’t know how much other teams improved.”

“I have faith in you. You will beat them.”

Kyle smiled, digging into his soup.

“I’m going to get you passes for the US races. I hope you will be able to make it.”

“We have the farm, Kyle… you know it’s tough to leave.”

“I’ll take care of everything. Accommodations, flights… just be there please. It means a lot to me.”

“We will try.”

“You say that each year.”

“We are not like your friends’ parents who don't have a job that occupies them 24/7.”

“I just want you to see me race, at least once. You’ve never come to any of my F1 races. Never seen me on the podium. And the television doesn’t count.”

He didn’t mean to sound this bitter. He saw his dad slightly flinch and his mom trying her best to ignore the tension.

“Anyway… you’ll never guess who I ran into at the supermarket earlier,” his mom said, changing the subject. After a dramatic pause for good measure, she added. “Margaret.”

“Margaret?” Kyle repeated.

“Hilary’s mom. We chatted a little bit, told her you were there and of course asked how her daughter was doing. You would be delighted to know that she landed a position as an interior designer in one of the most prestigious firms in New-York. I’ve always thought she was super smart. A beauty with a brain, truly.”

“Nice. Good for her. Really. It was her dream to work there.”

“And still no ring around her finger.”

Kyle sighed. Of course she would go there, he was surprised that she hadn’t already. She loved Hilary like her own daughter and had never really forgiven her son for breaking up with her. In her head, he would get married to her and she was crushed when Kyle dropped the news.

“Maybe you should contact her. Rekindle the flame.”

“Mom. It’s over. For good”

“But why?”

“Because I wasn’t in love with her anymore and look, it was probably the best decision ever. She is accomplishing her dreams and I’m not stringing her along.

“Love comes and goes. It’s a concept, not a linear path. You can’t love someone forever, at some point it fades and you’re just content with the person, right Richard?”

Kyle looked at his dad throwing his arms in the air as if to say he wouldn’t join the debate.

“I won’t have this conversation again, mom.”

“Your career is not everything, Kyle, you should start thinking about what you’ll do after it. And a family should be on top of your priorities.”

He didn’t bother to reply, only left the table to go outside and cool off, soon joined by his dad.

“Your mom can be annoying but she only wants what is best for you.”

“What is best for me is not Hilary.”

“She just wants to see you happy.”

“I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You have to admit that your break up with her was very sudden and came from out of nowhere.”

“Maybe, but I did what was best for us at the time. I had to break up with her.”

“Was there someone else?” Richard asked cautiously.

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not a no.”

“It’s not a yes, either.”

Kyle leaned against the barrier as a horse came by to nuzzle his nose in his hand.

“There is a girl that I like, I really do. But it’s hot and cold between us, she is hard to understand. One day I think there might be something and the next she doesn’t even look at me. I don’t know where this is going to lead, if even it will lead somewhere. We are different.”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe you need someone who challenges you.”

“She is a firefly, dad. Bright as the shiniest light when it's dark outside and gone as soon as the sun is rising or when I try to catch her.”

“Well, you just have to be quicker than her then, son,” his dad added, winking at him.

Thoughts all over the place, he wished the night would help him clear his mind. His room had not changed over the years, it was still the same one that he had grown up in. He laid on his bed and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to Romy. Again. Talking about her, even without mentioning her name, felt nice. She was shaking up his whole world and convictions, making him do things he had never thought he would do. Like, one night stands. He was a relationship kind of guy. He liked that, he liked commitment. And he knew himself, he was falling fast, he could feel it. He also knew that Romy was not the type of woman to commit. She wanted to be free. Maybe his dad was wrong, maybe staying away was a better idea. But why did that perspective hurt him more than being rejected, then? Torturing himself, he looked at his phone, searching for her last text. The one where she had told him that there would never be something more between them. He contemplated it. He missed her. Not her body, not her lips on his. He missed her. In every way she was. If they couldn’t be more than friends, then he would be just that. A friend. Even if it was killing him inside.

He went through his phone, searching for something to send to her. She knew she was back home, she knew how much she liked horses and ironically, his parents had a few. He was not a huge fan of riding but he still liked being around them. He finally found what he was looking for.

Donny would love to meet you.

It was a picture of him from a few years ago, taken during the summer break with an appaloosa. Maybe it was straightforward but he didn’t care. He put his phone in airplane mode and went to sleep, not expecting an answer anytime soon.

He woke up the next day feeling weird, his eyes having a harder time than usual adjusting to the lights. It was blurry. He rubbed his eyes, not thinking twice about it. The stress of the new season, added to the pressure of being a two-times world champion, was probably playing on his health. He had to relax. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out and suddenly he was seeing clearer. He unplugged his phone and his heart almost dropped when he noticed Romy’s name on his screen along with a picture of her younger self, on a black horse.

I’ll meet him if you meet Indigo.

Author's note: A little trip into Kyle's family and a glimpse of his past 🥰

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

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[tvreadsandsleep]

» Domestic!Attoye || Attoye Prompt Drabbles || Master List « » Domestic Establishment #2 — Continuation of We need more room «

The scan Okoye had performed with her Kimoyo Beads had informed her that none of the bones in her foot had been broken, but the throbbing, which had just begun to settle down after five minutes of icing, had her doubting those results. On a positive note, her ears had finally stopped ringing. Instead of crying and shrieking at deafening decibels, her boys both sat happily in their highchairs. They babbled at one another as they ate the food, she’d hobbled back and forth in the kitchen to prepare for them.

They were the only babies she’d ever seen who ate everything placed in front of them without fuss or delay. They inherited their father’s appetite, she thought to herself, smiling as she remembered the antics she’d witnessed, as a teen, when her younger cousins had fought and cried, throwing food about because they didn’t want to eat. That could never be her boys. The most they did was bang their little plates, demanding more.

Her amusement with her sons’ stomachs was interrupted with the entrance of her husband and daughter. Uproarious laughter came from the pair, Attuma tickling Naleli as the girl snorted and begged him to stop, that was until he took note of the ice pack Okoye had placed on her foot, the limb elevated on the seat in front of her. Naleli, following her father’s eyes, also glanced at her, cackle stopping short.

“What has happened, my love?” Attuma asked over their daughter’s, “Are you okay, mom?” Attuma unhanded the girl, and she promptly made her way to her mother, engulfing Okoye in a hug.

“I’m okay, sweetie. My foot just had a run in with your brother’s highchair. It hurts, but the pain is fading.”

“Oh, okay,” Naleli smiled, “Should I kiss it to make it better,” the preteen joked, eyes bright in good humor.

As always, Okoye’s heart melted, everything within her chest turning to mush, when confronted with the adorableness of one of her children. Naleli had taken after her father, his dimples carved into each of her cheeks and creating the sweetest, most charming expression whenever she smiled. Okoye was hard-pressed to deny that face anything, but had learned early on that allowing her daughter’s every whim would lead to ruin.  

“That won’t be necessary,” she answered, wiggling her fingers into Naleli’s abdomen. The girl giggled then jumped back out of Okoye’s reach.

“What you can do for me is take your brothers into the living room so that your father and I can talk.”

That piqued Attuma’s curiosity—drawing his attention from his sons, who both had begun gurgling and vying for his focus, while attempting to climb from their highchairs, from the moment he’d arrived. Placing the boys, who’d been climbing all over his person, on the ground, to their loud protests, he sat in a chair he moved adjacent to Okoye.

“Let’s go Eloy and Taavi. It sounds like dad might be in trouble,” Naleli threw over her shoulder as she dragged her toddling brothers out of the room.

Attuma snorted, but turned soft eyes on Okoye, faking a pout when he asked, “Am I in trouble, my love? What can I do to win your favor?”

Okoye gave him a hard look, glaring briefly and crossing her arms before sighing deeply to relax her face and limbs. She rolled her eyes, sighing again, unhappily.

“You were right,” she finally admitted. “We need more room. We have to move now, sooner rather than later.”

“I was right? It is not often that I hear such from your lips.” He leaned back in his seat, smug as he moved her foot from its perch on the chair to rest on his lap. He removed the ice pack to scrutinize the damage that had been done. He noticed several of her toes were swollen, but was satisfied that she was able to move them without difficulty.

“It doesn’t hurt as much,” she supplied, watching while he began to massage the rest of her foot.

“Does this have something to do with your sudden acceptance?”

“Yes, that and having to climb over your gigantic furniture and all the kids’ stuff in order to get across a room. The house is always a mess, and I can’t organize anything because there isn’t room for everything! We just need more space!”

Attuma increased the strength of his kneading, silently urging Okoye to calm.

“While I never want you hurt, I am pleased that you have finally agreed with me, especially as I have commissioned architects from both our nations to collaborate on the design of our new home.”

[sarahrogersevans]

Boom it’s me again hello world!

Ooooo what about if Chris has a daughter who he adopted or just had a shit mum (like Luna in a way) and chris is ✨single dad teacher! Chris✨ and she’s finding it hard being at his school so she’s usually always with Chris and in the sensory room because she does work independently with a teaching assistant and it’s a bad day for her and she’s just not okay mentally or emotionally so Chris just keeps a close eye on her and let’s her be but steps in when she gets too overwhelmed because she can sometimes zone out and hurt herself without knowing she’s doing it because ✨trauma response✨ and be brings her back and make sure she is fully back and safe and watches her closely so she doesn’t dissociate again and there’s all the fluff like she uses noise cancelling headphones when she needs, heavy hoodies from her dad etc etc and she’s trying to cope but it leads to this above situation ❤️

Only if you’re comfortable doing it of course!

School Can Be A Bit Much But My Teacher Dad Makes It Better- Teacher! Chris xreader fan fic request

Summary: Reader is having a hard time focusing at school and their anxiety is high and has flashbacks and Chris helps bring them back to now and comforts them

Warnings: mentions of dissociating, mentions of anxiety, comfort fluff, angst, fluff, soft Chris, mentions of having flashbacks, let me know if I miss anything

(Y/N’s POV)

Today is a really bad day for me mentally and being at school on a bad day is hard but luckily my teacher (also my dad) is letting me stay in the sensory room today and he comes and checks up on me every so often while I try and do some school work on my own. I keep dissociating without realizing it and I started to bite my nails again while reading my text book. My dad Chris comes in the room and says “hey Y/N, how is your worksheet coming- hey some of your fingers are bleeding kiddo what happened??”

I looked down at my hand and then remembered that I had bitten them bad enough to make them bleed. My dad noticed I wasn’t totally wasn’t focusing on where I was and looked at me and said “bad day huh?” I can’t to more when he closes my text book and wiped my face of my tears and nodded saying “I’m .. I'm sorry dad I can’t focus on work, too much going on in my mind.” My dad rubbed my back and said “hey that’s ok sweetheart no problem why don’t you try and relax a bit for now and we can get the rest done in a bit hmm?”

(Chris’s POV)

I was concerned about Y/N when I saw her nails and fingers were bleeding and I know she’s been through a lot with her mom in the past and I just have Y/N make sure she’s safe and cared for and don’t wanna push her to get everything done now and take it slow. Y/N sat back in the chair and rubbed her neck and put her head in her hands and I sat closer to her and said “hey Y/N shhh it’s ok hey I’m here kiddo you’re safe I promise.” Y/N looked over at me and said “safe..” and she had a shy smile and I nodded smiling back at her and said “that’s right pumpkin, here why don’t I help you with your assignment for English and then we can go get something to eat and then get back at it again?” She nodded and she hugged me saying “thank you dad I love you.”

I’m glad Y/N trusts me I know it’s not easy for her so I was happy to know I’m able to help her through her hard days. We got some lunch and then I had us play a game to give her brain a break from work and I think it really helped because she started being more open. Y/N said “school can be a bit much but my teacher dad makes it better, I’m glad you’re my teacher you make class fun.” I smiled and said “honey I’ll always be here to help you and help make things easier whenever you need me I’m here for you I promise kiddo it’s gonna be ok.”

(Y/N’s POV)

I started feeling more calm and Chris really helped making sure I was fully back and he has ways of making my class assignments easier and would make it more fun and when I felt stuck he would give me fun hints and I’d be able to pick up on it and it really helped distract me from my flashbacks that I had and I still felt a bit anxious but not as bad as I first was. Chris gave me space to work on the other assignments but still kept a close eye on me to make sure I was ok and I started to zone out again a bit and Chris came back over by me and said “hey Y/N do you remember that fun game we played earlier and how it helped you?” I came to and looked over at him and nodded and said “yea whenever I was stuck you would sing a song to help give me hints.” He smiled at me and said “how about we listen to some music for a bit I know music is always helps you.” Chris got his phone out and put on my favorite song and I patted my legs and sang along and Chris smiled at me and said “that’s my girl I’m so proud of you Y/N, you’re never alone we’ll get through these hard days together.”

Ok so I hope I did well 🤔🥺 I really hope you like it lovey ♥️♥️♥️ I’m sorry I was late with this one xx

Taglist:

@evansgurl-love @fluffycutecevans

@jessybarnes

@royalwritersoftheuniverses

@marvelstarker-mha98

@writersblog20

@delicatecoffeepeanut

@vrittivsanghavi

@nana1000night

@lokiandbuckysdoll

[scorpiongrassfield]

Theo asks you to walk with him 

Start | Prev | Content warning for transpobia and major character death

“Of course,” you agree. 

He smiles again, still hollow. 

He walks to the front door, and you follow. Pat hesitates, trying to stand without disturbing Concrete. 

It doesn’t work. The cat skitters off their lap and off into the kitchen. 

Lap free, Pat follows you and Theo out of the house. 

Theo leads you out into the woods in a familiar direction.

Once you realize where you’re headed, you drop back to whisper to Pat: “Is it safe for him to go there? He won’t… you know…” 

Pat shrugs. “I don't think we could stop him.” 

They've got a point. Theo seems... kind of determined.

“It… looks like summer here,” Theo marvels. 

“It’s been summer for a while,” Pat reminds him. 

“Oh. It was spring last time…” Theo says, surprised as he surveys the verdant greenery around him. 

“Summer is almost over, now,” Pat says, a gentle sorrow in their tone. 

“So it would seem…” Theo says with a sigh. “I won’t see another winter, will I?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer, continuing towards the creek like it’s magnetized. 

It’s a little difficult for you and Pat to follow him, as he is unhindered by any of the obstacles in his path, while the two of you have to avoid tripping on tree roots and snagging on bushes. 

Eventually you get there, though. 

Theo is standing on a flat rock, looking into the stream. 

“It was an accident, wasn’t it?” 

“We weren’t there, Theo. We have no way to answer that. Do you think it was an accident?” Pat asks. They keep their tone soft and low, like they’re trying not to spook a startled animal any further. 

“It… had to have been. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t leave me like that if she knew,” Theo says, like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“Do you remember what happened that night?” Pat asks. 

“I don’t want to,” Theo says, shaking his head. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“I don’t. I can’t,” he says, shaking his head again. His voice sounds rough. You think he’s holding back tears. 

You move to stand next to him. “It’s okay, Theo,” you soothe. You put a hand on his arm, a comforting gesture. 

It was a mistake. 

Your vision whites out for a moment, and when your sight returns, you are no longer standing next to Theo. 

“Where are you going?” A girl asks. 

“Somewhere calm. I think it might help,” you say. It’s not your voice. It’s Theo’s. 

“I don’t need to calm down, I need mom and dad off my case,” the girl complains, crossing her arms. 

“Ah. I will just… go by myself then,” you-as-Theo replies. He continues walking into the woods. A similar walk to the one you just took. 

“Hey! We’re not done talking!,” the girl says, chasing after Theo. 

“Okay. We can talk as we walk. You said you’re having trouble with Mother again?” Theo says evenly. 

“No shit. She’s so annoying. There are more options for me than just going to school or becoming a house wife, for fuck’s sake,” she complains. 

“I thought you wanted to go to college?” Theo asks. 

“Not for business. That stuff is so boring. And it’s not like I need to go to school to learn how to sing. I already know how!” She whines. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more though, would it?” Theo says, tilting his head to the side. 

“Ugh, you’re so dumb. Of course you don’t get it,” the girl huffs. 

The two of you reach the creek. Theo stands on the flat rock and looks out into the water. 

“This is what you wanted me to see?” the girl asks, indignant. 

“It’s nice. I find it��� calming. And beautiful,”Theo says with a shrug. 

“Yeah yeah it’s very nice. It’s stupid to come out here when it’s getting dark though,” she says. 

“I know the way back. And we have flashlights. I just thought…” he pauses, unsure of what to say. 

“You should really stop trying to do that, Dot. It doesn’t suit you,” the girl snaps. She kicks a few loose rocks into the water. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” is all Theo says. 

The sound of the creek fills in the silence. 

“So. You’re having trouble. Did you come here to ask for advice? Or just… complain?” Theo asks. The question is genuine. 

“I don’t need your advice, I already have a solution,” the girl says. 

“Oh?” 

“If you come home…” she starts in an expectant tone. 

“Ah. I’m sorry. You know I can’t do that,” Theo says, cutting her off. 

The girl rolls her eyes hard. “Ugh, don’t say that. It would be so easy for you to come home and you know it.” 

Theo rubs at the back of his neck, seeming uncomfortable. “It really wouldn’t.” 

“Yes it would,” the girl says, throwing her arms out in frustration. “All you have to do is stop pretending to be a boy and apologize for your little college stunt, and I’m sure they’d be happy to let you come back,” she says, like Theo is the dumbest person in the world for not understanding. 

You want to wince, but Theo doesn’t. He just… droops. Not surprised, just sad. 

“I don’t… I can’t,” he says, his voice soft. 

“I don’t even know why you insist on doing all this anyway. It’s not doing you any favors. You have no friends, your family hates you, you have no dating prospects… you’re practically a crazy cat lady already, and you’re not even 30!” she says, her voice rising as she picks up steam. 

Theo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“That all may be true, but… I want to live as myself. I don’t want to be what other people decide for me. I think. I think you should be able to understand that,” he says. There’s a bit of an edge to his voice. Like a fire waking up from the embers. 

“Oh that’s rich. It’s so not the same thing as me wanting to be a singer. I’m good at being a singer. You can barely pass for a boy,” she laughs. 

“Courtney. If you’re going to insult me, I’m going to ask you to leave,” he says, sharper. 

“Oh no,” she says, mocking, “You’re going to ask me to leave, that’s so scary.” She laughs again. “Why don’t you make me, since you’re such a big strong boy,” she says, shoving at Theo. The rock is slick with water, but he manages to stay upright. 

“No, Courtney. I shouldn’t need to use force to get what I want. I don’t need to hurt people to be listened to. Unlike you,” he says. It’s the most unkind thing you’ve heard him say. But you aren’t sure you disagree with him. 

Courtney’s laugh turns ugly. “You’re such a bitch,” she curses. 

“No, I don’t think I am. I think it’s very reasonable for me to be upset when someone I care about is unkind to me,” he says, his voice rising in volume as he goes on, “You on the other hand, invited yourself to my home with the express purpose of being cruel to me, insulting me, and asking me to give up my life so that you can go have fun chasing your dreams.” He stands taller, and takes a step closer to her. “I think that you are being an incredibly rude brat, and I think that I want you to leave and not come back until you’ve realized you can’t always treat me like dirt, okay, Courtney?” he says, almost shouting by the end. 

Courney seethes. “Oh fuck you Dorothy. I was doing you a favor but it looks like you don’t deserve my help. Die alone for all I fucking care,” she says, shoving Theo as hard as she can. The rocks are slick, he loses his footing and falls, his head hitting a rock hard. 

Theo is face down in the creek, unconscious and drowning. 

Courtney has already run off. She didn’t look back once. 

Theo may be unconscious, but you are not. The sensation of drowning is familiar to you by now. 

“Okay, are you two going to stare off into space like that all day, or…” Pat shouts, and you’re pulled back into the present. 

You’re standing next to Theo with a hand on his arm. 

Pat is looking between you and Theo, trying to figure out what’s going on.

Theo is blinking back tears. “I… I just said I didn’t want to. Why did you do that?” he half-sobs. 

You pull your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize- I had no idea that would happen,” you apologize. You were just trying to help him. 

“I’m missing something. What happened?” Pat asks. 

“I think I made him remember how he died. All of it,” you say. 

Pat winces. 

Theo is still crying. “She was right. I did die alone,” he whispers. 

You rack your brain trying to figure out how to salvage this. 

“You aren’t alone now,” you say. 

He just looks at you. 

“It’s true. You might be dead, but you aren’t alone. We’re friends, aren’t we? And you have the people at the diner, they’d care they knew you were dead. And Concrete still loves you just the same as a ghost,” you say, grasping at straws. 

Theo sniffles. “I… I suppose that’s true,” he says. 

“You’re a good kid, Theo. We’re sorry this happened to you,” Pat adds in. 

Theo is still crying, but it seems like he’s winding down. 

“I… I’m not sure why I wanted to come out here. It just seemed… right…” he says. 

“It happens. Ghosts that remember how they died are typically drawn to the place,” Pat explains. 

“Oh. I really am dead... I. I don’t want to be dead,” he says. 

“We all gotta go sometime, though,” Pat says. 

Next

[kingofthering]

hi. hiiii. hihihihihi. mwah.

pierresteban + resolution

Pierre never takes New Year’s resolutions. He always feels like they are a thing that people do just to make themselves feel better after the holidays, rarely ever following through with the promises made. Pierre doesn’t need it to be January to make a commitment over something he wants to change in his life.

He only chuckles at his big brothers when they tell him that maybe his new resolution for 2023 should be to be nicer to Esteban and fix things between them. First of all, because there is no fixing needed and because they’re both adults who are going to work together well this season. He’s absolutely convinced that.

That doesn’t keep him from mulling the idea over and two days later, he finds himself on the porch of Esteban’s family home in Rouen. He knows that Esteban is here thanks to some snooping around on social media but he somehow doesn’t expect Esteban’s mom to answer the door.

Pierre tries to school his features but Sabrina looks just as surprised to see him there. “Pierre,” she starts, a questioning look on her face. “Hello? Are you looking for Esteban?”

The answer would have been a given twenty years ago, the question asked with a smile and Esteban already showing his nose at the corner of the hallway. The answer is kind of still obvious today -why else would he be there- but his presence makes much less sense. Pierre is not going to lose time to dwell on it.

Pierre nods and says “Yes, please” and then Esteban’s name gets yelled, Pierre hears a loud “What” that Sabrina answers with a “There is someone here for you” and then Esteban is there, and his mom leaves them to it.

The frown on Esteban’s face is so similar to the one his mother was adorning, it almost makes Pierre chuckle. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Esteban gets them back on track. He’s wearing sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt that is undeniably at least one size too small, his abs showing when he crosses his arms across his chest as a gust of wind wooshes through the still-open door. Pierre will pretend he hasn’t noticed that he still hasn’t been invited inside.

“Are you free right now? To come with me?”

“Come with you do what?”

“Surprise? Come on, you can trust me.”

It could be a loaded sentence but Pierre accompanies it with a smile that he tries to keep on while looking at Esteban. 

He doesn’t know if it’s his charm or Esteban’s curiosity that leads him to say yes but a handful of minutes later, Esteban is changed and sitting in the passenger car of Pierre’s car.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t need to call Omar? You’re not kidnapping me?”

Pierre rolls his eyes at that but there is a smile on Esteban’s features so Pierre just smiles back and lets him fiddle with the radio settings while he drives.

They arrive at the ice rink about ten minutes later and Esteban has this curious look on his face all the way through getting them skates in the empty space.

“Do I get some explaining at some point?” He asks while he’s trying to tie his skates.

Pierre is already done with his. He scoots closer to Esteban on the bench and bats his hands away. “You need to tighten them more,” he says as an explanation while he bends down to take care of the laces properly.

Esteban is a little wobbly when he gets up and he pauses in front of the entrance of the empty sheet of ice. “I don’t really know how to skate.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like there is anyone to watch you fall. I’ll only laugh a little, I promise,” Pierre smiles and Esteban rolls his eyes and eventually, agrees to take his first steps on the ice, holding onto the rail to begin with.

Pierre keeps an eye on him, keeps himself from offering a hand as they start their first lap.

“You remember how I used to play hockey when I was a kid?” Pierre eventually asks once they’re half-way through the ovale.

“You used to do everything when you were a kid,” Esteban laughs. “My dad had to be the one to convince you to quit football so you could focus on karting enough.”

“Yeah, well,” Pierre shrugs. He knew today would be an occasion to bring up things from the past but he’s fine with that. For the most part. “I still know the owner of the rink. That’s how I got the keys for us right now. Usually the rink is closed to the public and the local youth hockey team has practice but they’re still on Christmas break, so.”

Esteban nods and they keep moving forward, eventually starting to discuss their winter break so far, what they’ve done since the last time they saw each other in Enstone. They talk about Christmas with their family and Esteban mentions how his cousins would like to see Pierre again, if he wanted to. It shakes Pierre for about two seconds because he didn’t expect it but he nods and says that could be nice. He hasn’t seen any of them since they were all teenagers, back before shit hit the fan between Pierre and Esteban. Their parents were involved, sure, other kids their age? Not so much.

Pierre might goad Esteban into trying to let got of the railing and he succeeds. Esteban is a little Bambi-like on those first strides but he doesn’t fall. They go slow but they make it one lap and a half before Pierre sees Esteban’s arms starting to flail and he’s quick to place one hand on Esteban’s forearm and the other at the small of his back, stopping them in their tracks. “Easy.” And when he realizes that he kind of backed off Esteban against the railing and he steps back once he sees that Esteban is holding himself there. “Sorry.”

Esteban looks at him curiously for one second and Pierre almost feels uneasy, not sure where to look.

“Is that how you pulled all the girls in highschool, Pierre? Take them to the rink and make them fall into your arms?”

The question catches him by surprise and Pierre feels heat reaching his cheeks already turned red by the cold air around them. He can’t admit that he’s done it. He can’t realize that this whole thing looks awfully like a date.

“I’m kidding,” Esteban eventually says when Pierre doesn’t manage a comeback quick enough. And then he’s skating again and Pierre has to go after him. Esteban finds the a new subject of conversation and the moment is gone.

They take pictures together and Pierre debates posting them on his Insta story. He knows the fans would go insane if they knew they were hanging out together in Rouen and Pierre is used to share a lot about his life but for some reason, this feels better kept private. Maybe he can just send a pic or two to his brothers to prove to them that he’s holding onto his resolution.

When they’re both untrying the laces of their skates a while later, Esteban turns to him and goes “Was this the whole surprise or can I also get a coffee out of this? My hands are freezing.”

Not for the first time that day, Pierre finds himself caught off guard. But while he might have no idea what he’s been doing for the last couple of hours, it feels right to smile back and says “sure, only if you’re paying, though.”

send me a word + a pairing and I'll write a little something.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Could we get some teen lian and dad roy at home pls (ps i have always felt like irey had adhd and jai has autism what are your thoughts on that?)

Ooo if we’re talking the comic versions, absolutely! My versions lean more toward the Hyperactive ADHD, meshing interestingly with Mar’i’s austim. (Lian is some form of neuro spicy, she just doesn’t care enough for a diagnosis) Fun fact: ADHD and Autism have a fair amount of similar traits

Adding in Jason for some fun 😂😂😂

————————

“Dad?” Lian calls out, tossing her keys to the side.

“In here, Pum’kin!” Roy calls from the kitchen. Walking in, she takes note of her father’s mussed up hair and rumpled clothes, even if he’s causally sitting on the counter. Wouldn’t be too weird if Uncle Jason’s dark hair wasn’t sticking up, or wearing one of her dad’s goofy shirts, chopping vegetables for dinner like it’s any other night. Doesn’t help that her dad’s checking Jason out way more than ‘best friends’ should.

“You two are shameless.” She snorts, kissing her uncle’s cheek.

“Uh-huh. You do remember that two of your teammates are my little brother and my niece, right, kid?”

Her dad raises an eyebrow at the other man, “Why would she need to remember that?”

“Because, Dad,” Lian jumps onto the counter top beside him, lowering her voice to mimic Jason’s, “They’re the big scary Bats.”

“Ah yes. The big scary bats.” Roy nods grimly, “Mysterious. Spooky.”

“One could even say Creepy.”

“Or Kooky.” As if on cue, father and daughter snap their fingers twice, then crack up. Jason rolls his eyes and waits for it to die down.

“I was telling her to remember because she and that boyfriend of hers—“

“You can say Jai, Uncle Jason. Your brother’s best friend’s son. My best friend.”

“The one shoving his tongue down your throat every 20 minutes. At least according to Mar’i.”

Roy shakes his head, “Nope. My Squeaker’s never kissed any one. Male, female, non-binary, anyone in between or beyond those descriptions.”

“…Roy, babe, you do realize she and the speedster fu—“

“Fundamentally get along, yes.”

Lian can’t help but snort, “Yeah, Dad. Just like how you and Mom ‘Fundamentally getting along’ lead to me.”

Roy makes a face at his daughter, which she happily returns, “If Jai gets you pregnant, I’ll castrate him.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t have done it already.” Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, she heads upstairs, “I’m gonna change! Don’t forget Mar’i and the twins will be here later!”

“What? You don’t want them to know you’re in private school? I’m sure they’d love the uniform—“

“DAD!”

Shaking his head and laughing, Roy looks back at Jason, “Remember when she was little?So sweet and even tempered?”

“The feral hellion, who swore at classmates in preschool?” Jason snorts. But he puts down the knife he was using, looking at the other man, “Do I need to have a conversation with Jai?”

“Nah, he’s a good kid.” Roy shrugs, “If Wally didn’t teach him to respect a partner, Linda put the fear of God into him. Now, get over here.”

“She’s right upstairs, Roy.” But Jason moves towards him. Arms bracing against the counter, boxing the archer in, he raises an eyebrow. The picture of patience. Like they hadn’t been 5 minutes away from stumbling upstairs when Lian’s car pulled up.

“Yeah, but she always hides her school uniform. We’ve got, like, 15 minutes at least.”

“In that case.” Jason leans in. Just as their lips meet, a shout comes from upstairs—

“Dad? Do you know where that explosive arrow I was working on went?”

Dropping his head, Roy grumbles, “Have a kid they said. Such a blessing, they said.”

“Roy, we both know damn well no one told you to have a kid.”

[reversecreek]

welcome to marina, WILLA DENEURVE ( woman, she/her ) ! they are a TWENTY-EIGHT year old who has lived on the island for TWO MONTHS. word on the street is they’re currently living in HYLAND PARK and works as an ACTRESS. everyone also says they look a lot like ASHLEY MOORE. what do you think?

PINTEREST

“Her voice was trained, supple as leather, precise as a knife-thrower’s blade. Singing or talking, it had the same graceful quality, and an accent I thought at first was English, but then realized was the old-fashioned American of a thirties movie, a person who could get away with saying “grand”. Too classic, they told her when she went out on auditions. It didn’t mean old. It meant too beautiful for the times.” — Janet Fitch, White Oleander.

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like “i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from marina at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next?

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to marina a few months ago n lives in the big empty house in hyland park tht used to belong to her parents. she inherited it n never sold it. it's kind of eerie n weird n like a giant frozen shrine. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show beforehand where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating marina like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..