#i think she'd be entitled to feel some kind of way about her friend dating her awful ex

[majorbaby]

that bakery gifset of mine is circulating again and a lot of people are taking note of how genuinely happy frank is about the prospect of baked goods. is that the one time we see frank genuinely want something frivolous or want something for himself that doesn't bring harm or misfortune to another person?

most of the time he's after money, prestige or validation from other people and he's willing to lie, cheat and steal to get it. and even when he does get it, he doesn't seem happy. he's of a higher rank than hawkeye and trapper and he lords that over them but it doesn't bring him lasting happiness, he still wants their companionship and approval.

maybe i've been too sympathetic about his whole 'liking to be liked' it's human nature to want to be liked but no one can reciprocate genuine affection towards frank because he's not putting any of that out there to begin with.

there's margaret but she constantly doubts whether or not frank really likes her several times, and with good reason. he's critical of her looks, he's unwilling to leave his wife for her, "surely i'm worth $240 dollars" sure you are margaret as long as you pay it back with interest. i do think he probably likes her as a person or at the very least is sexually attracted to her, but that's probably less important to him than the external validation he gets from her attentions.

the best thing you can say about most of his desires is that he's far from the only guy who wants all of those things, and he was probably socialized that way. that does not absolve him of his actions.

but he wants pie! and in another episode (quo vadis captain chandler, i believe) he says a prayer for chocolate pudding which, alas, god answers "no" to. the former is a pretty innocent moment for frank, i think that's why i like it.

[mintedwitcher]

It's taken a hot minute but I think I can finally articulate why I dislike Martha Jones as a companion (NOT as a person or as a character independent of the Doctor, but STRICTLY as it pertains to her behaviour/actions around the Doctor himself). (Please keep in mind this is all just my opinion and analysis, I'm open to discussion about it but not discourse.)

Obligate disclaimer, this is not character bashing, I think Martha has a lot of potential that the show flat-out ignored or wrote over or just forgot about, I think she could've definitely been a BETTER character, but by no means is she a Bad one, she's just not my personal favourite when it comes to companions. (At some point I'll probably sit down and make an actual ranking of my favourite companions but not yet.)

Martha is smart, like incredibly smart. She's well educated, she's compassionate, she's brave, she's brilliant. But she's also stubborn to a fault, and she has a sort of entitlement we haven't seen from other companions (until Clara). Not a personal entitlement, where she believes she's owed everything just for existing, but specifically regarding the Doctor; she believes she deserves his life story, his secrets, his memories, because he chose her to travel with him.

A scene that comes immediately to mind is just before they were supposed to leave New Earth, and she planted herself and refused to budge until the Doctor divulged details about Gallifrey to her. Now, the interesting thing there, is that this entitlement actually does the Doctor some good. He's never had someone ask about Gallifrey before, and he hasn't needed to talk about it in any detail yet beyond "my planet's gone." No one's pushed him to talk about it yet. Martha doing that was a benefit, because from that point on, we see the Doctor talk more about Gallifrey and his people.

See, none of Martha's inherent traits are necessarily Bad. Martha also loved the Doctor, but that's never been my problem. My problem with it is the way that she pushes those feelings onto the Doctor and then becomes irate, petulant or just plain catty when the Doctor either doesn't reciprocate, ignores her, or mentions Rose.

An argument could potentially be made from Martha's point of view that the Doctor led her on, but I don't really get that, because he never showed interest. And really, a random kiss in a hospital while under siege by alien police from a man she just met is not interest. Especially when he was insistent beforehand that it was nothing, and that afterwards it was a genetic transfer. She was being used as a distraction. She read into it more than there was, and pinned her hopes on it, and that is what ultimately undermines her as a companion in my eyes.

It's one thing, I think, to be pining. But it's the pressure of expectation that makes me grind my teeth. Nearly every episode, there is some kind of Moment where Martha acts as if this will be the time the Doctor makes a move on her, or where she lets herself think there's more to their interactions than there really is. And that's tolerable, for an episode or two, but for an entire season? You really can't expect me to believe someone as smart as Martha really cannot see the writing on the wall here, which is that the Doctor is not looking for a girlfriend, he's looking for a friend. He isn't ready for another relationship, (as undefined as it was with Rose) he just wants company. And yes, he wants the adoration and validation and the awe that comes with taking a human out into the universe, but he certainly doesn't want to date. And he makes that clear in his actions, as much as he can without bluntly stating it, probably for fear that she'd choose to leave, and maybe that's where it falls apart. He won't communicate clearly, and so she won't pay attention to the obvious cues he's giving out. It's a game of cat and mouse to her, while for him it's a tightrope walk.

It's the expectation, though, that because he took her travelling, that means he has to have some sort of feelings for her. And he does care for her, as a friend, as a companion, but he's still mourning Rose and the relationship he had with her. For Martha to expect a new relationship to bloom under those conditions, it was naive. I've never much been a fan of the whole "date hopping" trope, where a character bounces immediately from one relationship to another without pause, so the expectation of it here irritated me.

(I'll have to make another post about the Doctor's side of this whole thing, because it really is a mess of miscommunication and expectations.)

And then, finally, we come to my least favourite Martha moment of her entire season: her goodbye. Not only did she spend an entire season putting the pressure of reciprocity on the Doctor, putting her feelings on him, lashing out when it falls through again and again, but then when she decides to leave him for good, her initial farewell would've been enough. Should've been enough. But no. No, she went back inside, and she decided to just add guilt to the already unstable emotional state of her friend. She tried to guilt him for not reciprocating, by comparing their relationship to a toxic one that her friend had. It was underhanded, and completely unnecessary.

And in the context of that episode, given everything that happened, it was entirely out of place, and it undermined her decision to leave in the first place. I respected the hell out of her for choosing to stay on Earth with her family after the events on the Valiant, and then she turned around and made it about her unrequited feelings for the Doctor, and it just felt Weak.

The show does that annoyingly often, I've found, especially when it comes to the companions. They get a brief moment to shine and be powerful and be brilliant, and then it's undercut very quickly afterwards by either killing them off, sending them away, or doing something pointless. And this scene was no different in that way.

Compare this to the Martha we saw later in the show, after her time as a companion was over, and look at how she shines there. Brilliant and smart and brave, working for UNIT, happily engaged, healed. She was absolutely fantastic. That was a version of Martha I would've LOVED to watch as a companion. We got the dulled down version of that as a companion, only really coming out on rare occasions, but imagine if we'd had that ALL the time.

Martha after the Doctor is without a doubt one of my favourite characters. Martha with the Doctor makes me want to tear my hair out.

[rulimaquina]

Something Is No Longer Wrong With My Stepdaughter

Word count: 4981 words.

If you like my writing BUY ME A KO-FI!

I never planned to have kids of my own. The mere topic of getting pregnant was enough to turn any conversation awkward because most people don't understand why my face twists with disgust at the idea. The idea of giving birth didn't make me feel any less disgusted. And I'd suffered enough during my years spent hopping from foster home to foster home when I was a kid and having my birth certificate altered twice so they could pass me as younger in hopes of getting me adopted off before I finally grew out of the system, to know that 'adoption' is, in many cases, just a fancier word for 'child trafficking'. So that was also not an option.

But I love kids. It was the reason why I became a teacher and studied and continue to learn as much as I can to be the best role model I can be for them. Because all kids deserve to have someone to look up to, someone to turn to when they're excited, scared, angry. Someone who will be there for them. After all, kids are what we, the adults, make of them.

Louis was a godsend. I met him during a soccer game one of my students had begged me to go to, where Louis' eleven year old niece also happened to play, and it was the closest I've ever gotten to believing in love at first sight. He was handsome, hardworking —bordering on being a workaholic— and funny. The best part, the part that made me ignore his talk about leaving on work trips that could last weeks at a times, was that he didn't mind that I had gotten my tubes tied fresh out of college, because he already had a daughter and often joked about how she was more than enough for him. The fact he'd finished the sentence with: "Either way, I wouldn't mind. That's women's choice." earned him even more points in my book. We had a relatively short period as boyfriend and girlfriend —a year—, then spent eight months engaged, two of which were spent living together, before we finally got married.

He was just perfect. The kind of perfection that makes us broken people feel like there has to be something really, deeply wrong, because such perfection just cannot exist.

His only flaw was his daughter, Katie.

Katie was a grade A bitch. Not my words. I would have never called or even thought about calling or even thinking about a preadolescent kid as a grade A bitch. At first, to me, Katie was just a shy kid- some would say too shy for a 12 year old kid. But hey, some kids are just introverted and I saw no problem with that, nor did I see any problem with her behavior. Not right away, it took a while for Katie to show her true colors, long enough that when I received warnings from Karen, Louis' sister, I believed that she must have been exaggerating because describing your own niece as a 'grade A bitch' when your brother introduces his, at the time, girlfriend at Thanksgiving dinner isn't exactly normal. Also because she'd started the sentence with "I'm warning you now that you still have a chance to get out." as if a 12 year old girl's behavior could be enough to make me break up with Louis. Honestly, I thought Karen perhaps didn't like me and wanted to scare me out of dating her brother. I even joked with friends that, maybe, she was in love with her brother and didn't want competition, fully believing Katie was just a shy, introverted kid who hadn't yet opened up to the fact her dad was dating. Her name being Karen also played a role in me believing she was being overly dramatic.

But Karen was right and I was so, so wrong.

Katie was truly a grade A bitch. I tried my best to not let that description of her cloud my ability to create an opinion of my own, but there was just no better way to put it. Katie was selfish, rude, entitled and it seemed that the only thing that brought her joy was making others miserable. I should have known. The amount of times Louis had to leave work to go have meetings with the principal should have been the warning, but he never talked about the meetings and I just assumed Katie was being bullied, not that she was the bully. But her cruel behavior didn't just stay at school, she was banned from Karen's house, was never left alone with her cousin who, despite being only a year younger and both taller and heavier than her, was terrified enough of her to apparently be manipulated and terrorized into all sorts of trouble.

I somehow managed to remain oblivious of all that, until after the wedding.

Our carefully planned honeymoon was canceled because Katie faked appendicitis. I say 'faked' and not 'had an appendicitis scare like many girls going through puberty do' because she confessed to me that she'd been faking it, right after hearing me talk to the hotel we'd booked, begging them to understand our situation and be empathetic, only for them to tell me that, no, they couldn't refund us the price of the suite with a sea-view we'd paid for in advance, because the room had been kept empty and they hadn't been able to reach Louis within the 24 hours window to cancel and get a refund, curiously enough, Katie had been playing on his phone all day because hers was 'dead' and she 'needed a distraction from the pain'. It was the first time I saw her smile.

But I didn't complain, because Louis had promised that he could make that money back in no time, that he could refund me my half or we could make up for the missed honeymoon with a family vacation. Both to celebrate our union and to celebrate that, to him, Katie's appendicitis had been 'just a false alarm'.

Of course, I picked the family vacation. Even if it meant spending even more time with Katie than I had to at the hospital.

I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, willing to understand that having to share her father with a woman who wasn't her mother —another grade A bitch, I might add, and without shame because since I'd gotten engaged to Louis eight months ago, she had only spent time with her own daughter twice, and before that, only five times in two years— was something that took time to get used to and this must have been her way of crying out for attention. Until we made it to the vacation house.

It was a nice two stories tall house —Louis called it a cabin, but I wasn't going to call it a cabin because 'cabins in the woods' just don't look like that— in some heavily forested corner of Oregon. The kind of place with windows that cover a whole area of the wall from floor to ceiling on the second floor, and make you feel like you might get Friday the 13th-ed in there. We got there on a humid summer day, a Friday, intending to stay until two Mondays from that day.

The first day, Katie was just too exhausted from the road trip and having to unpack to start anything. Or so I thought.

The whole day had passed so easily, I ended up letting my guard down. We were sitting down for dinner later than usual, and I was putting down the plates with steak. Mine first, because my chair was the one closest to the kitchen door, then, I intended to walk behind Katie to get between her and Louis, and put both their plates down at the same time like in some fancy restaurant. I was planning to fake a french accent and everything, just to see if I could make them both laugh. But my plan was foiled by Katie planting both her hands against the edge of the table and pushing herself, chair and all, away from the table and into me.

Both glass plates crashed to the ground as I stumbled for balance, one hand gripping the back of her chair, accidentally catching her hair between my fingers and the wood, pulling enough that she shrieked.

It should have felt cathartic. But I apologized to her, profusely, right before I got down on my knees and started picking up the shards of glass and the steak. Louis joined me on the floor, smiling at me before he looked up at Katie, his expression hardening and, for once, I thought he was going to actually do something.

"Go get the mop and a bucket, young lady."

That was it. Katie huffed but obliged, and returned with both things, dropping the bucket an inch away from the floor and causing it to splash some water out. Clearly intended for me, though it mostly reached her father. I could tell she noticed because, unlike if more water had reached me, she looked regretful.

"You cooked mine wrong anyway so, no loss," she said, smiling at me.

As Katie made her way back to the kitchen, a smile of satisfaction on her face that I couldn't see but I could feel was there, Louis gave me an apologetic look. Another flaw of his, he just didn't know how to discipline his daughter despite being the adult and her being the child. But I didn't count it as a flaw back then, because I didn't know how to do so either.

Our second day there was better.

I was stuck taking care of Molly, the chocolate-colored toy poodle that Katie often, even that morning, made sure to remind me was not mine, but who I fed, played with, cleaned up after and walked. Even before this vacation. While Katie only picked her up after her grooming appointments to take selfies with and, very rarely, played fetch with when she had friends over at the apartment I'd been sharing with them for two months prior to the wedding.

"I'm tired of this fucking house." at first, I was caught off guard by the fact Katie was speaking to me. It shocked me enough to make me forget Louis had left to go to the store around forty minutes ago, and that the closest town was fifty minutes away. "I'm gonna go outside."

It took me a minute to react. I watched her walk out the back door and left Molly to her food before I moved to the kitchen window that had a great view of the backyard. I opened it.

"Stay in the backyard, you don't know the area!" I told her.

Katie showed me the middle finger over her shoulder, then disappeared past the treeline.

I deflated a little. But Molly butting my leg, demanding more food and greeting me with that cute little face of hers fixed my mood some. I played fetch with her, throwing the ball from the kitchen to the living room, watching her run after it and bring it back only to make me wrestle her for it. I wasn't really paying attention to the passage of time. I got the ball from Molly again and I threw it across the house again, Molly ran after it, but stopped right in front of the wooden back door, every hair in her little body standing on end as her ears pressed back against her head, teeth bared as she growled. Then, she ran and hid under the couch.

The door opened.

I felt my heart drop to my stomach and my world spin when I laid my eyes on Katie. Her jeans and blouse were dirty and torn, she looked like she'd rolled around in the mud and at the same time, like someone or something had tried to rip her clothes off her. But her body seemed pristine, not a scratch or bruise or even a speck of dirt on her skin, the high ponytail her long blond hair was pulled into was a bit crooked but, other than that, it looked the same as when she'd left. She stared at me, but looked as if she was staring right through me.

"I fell," Katie spoke, realizing I needed some sort of explanation, fast. But only giving me the most emotionless and short explanation.

She fell? She just fell?

I scrambled to my feet and stepped forward, not daring to touch her at first. Then, I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands moved to feel the inside of her thighs for any wetness, any blood, as she just stared down at me with that thousand yards look in her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. Then, her eyes finally focused on me, moving slowly as if she was studying my face carefully.

"What happened?" I asked her, my voice more of a plea for her to tell me than a question.

"I told you," she said, just as emotionless as the first time. "I fell."

I stood up and reached for her shoulder. Without really meaning to, but needing proof that she was actually there and wasn't just an apparition while the real Katie was lying dead in some tree, having been attacked by an animal or taken advantage of by some sick bastard because I had too little of a spine to make her listen to me, I squeezed. She just stared at me. Then, as if she realized she was supposed to feel pain because she'd just told me she'd fallen, she winced.

"That hurts," there was just barely a hint of emotion in her tone. The kind of 'that hurts' that you voice when you get a drop of hot water on your hand while cooking, not the kind you voice when you've fallen in the woods hard enough to walk back home with torn clothes.

I didn't know what to do. I called Louis, I called the rangers. They both arrived at around the same time, with the park rangers car parking in our driveway just before Louis did. He must have broken some kind of record, and all speed laws known to man, considering the park rangers building was way closer than the town the store he'd driven to was located in.

The rangers came prepared. One of them had medical training while the other kept asking me questions. I insisted that something more than a fall had to have happened, and they agreed, but with no injuries, no signs that she'd been hurt other than the state of her clothes, and no word from Katie other than that she'd fallen while taking a walk through the woods and come back home right after, there wasn't really anything they could do other than go outside with Louis and check the surroundings for a little over two hours, before concluding that there was no sign of people nor any animal that could have caused that, only Katie's footprints going to and from the woods.

Afterwards, Katie had been… strange.

I blamed it on the shock of whatever had happened to her, but deep down I knew there was something else going on. Katie hadn't ever come in contact with me, aside from that first time we'd been introduced to each other and we shook hands. Any other time I tried to initiate any kind of physical attention: a gentle squeeze, a playful poke, or even as much as brushing my hand against her by accident, she moved away as if my touch burned her. If Louis wasn't looking, she'd pair her actions with a look of disgust that would indicate I'd touched her with a shit-stained stick instead of my very clean hand. Now, she became my shadow.

She sat by my side on the couch, cuddling against my side. She followed me into the kitchen and insisted on helping me cook dinner, which I had to guide her through like she had never done or before, which didn't surprise me because- well, she was spoiled and I wouldn't have put it past Louis to never teach his daughter how to cook. Since the night before's dinner had been impossible to enjoy and Louis hadn't been able to get more groceries with his quickly he'd returned in his panic of something happening to his daughter, I just decided to recycle the idea of making steak, which Katie seemed really happy with. She watched me open another package of four steaks, and put it in the microwave so that they would unstick from each other. I could have sworn I watched her mouth water when I pulled them out after five minutes and there were droplets of blood dripping from them when I got them with the fork to get them off the plastic container.

When it came time to turn them around in the oven, Katie was hovering behind me, staring over my shoulder.

"Can we eat them like that?" she asked me.

Her tone was gentle, hesitant and polite in a way that made me flinch because I fully expected this to be some sort of trap. I even looked down at her hands to make sure she wasn't folding anything that could be used to prank me or hurt me. That was the level of paranoia this child's behavior had reduced me to. But her hands were empty aside from a cloth I'd been using to clean some blood off the counter and I'd asked her to hold it for me while I checked our food. She was squeezing and twisting it almost nervously.

"You like your steak rare?" I asked her. Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted in confusion. "That's when it's juicy and red on the inside."

"Oh," she said, her tone suddenly monotonous. "Yeah, I like it like that."

I nodded, thinking to myself that, well, that was weird. But I would take this kind of weird behavior ten times over her usual angry-at-the-world behavior.

The next day, we all went to town. Even Molly came along, because Katie insisted on bringing her with us. It'd been an odd night, but slowly, Molly seemed to begin warming up to Katie again, enough to let her be the one holding the leash. I blamed the previous growling and hiding on the fact seeing Katie the way she'd returned from the woods had probably scared the soul out of Molly, or that perhaps she could smell some wild animal on Katie that made her wary of her. But that didn't matter. How could it matter when Katie walked ahead of Louis and I, trotting to make Molly run and bark, her fluffy tail wagging a mile per second.

We made it to the store and each of us went their own way, agreeing to meet back at the front to pay in fifteen minutes, while Molly stayed outside, tied to the bicycles rack.

As I made my way from hall to hall, I noticed Katie in the hall with all the hair products. She was holding a box of hair dye. It didn't surprise me, since I'd already seen her dye her hair different colors a few times. She had the hair for that, honey blond and healthy from her five products routine. What made me let out a punched-out gasp as I approached, however, was the fact that she was holding a brunette dye box, staring intensely at it and, upon realizing I was there with her, holding it up beside my hair.

"Do you think it's the same color?" she asked me.

Hesitantly, I took the box from her hand while grabbing a strand of my own hair with the other, comparing the color shown on the box with my own. Then, I looked up at Katie.

"I think mine is just a shade darker," I said, handing the box back.

Katie nodded, returned the box to its previous spot, even made sure that it was perfectly straight. Then, she looked for a darker shade and grabbed it. She looked at it, then at me, and she smiled a smile I could only describe as tense and unused.

"It's this one," she said. "Can you dye my hair when we get back?"

This time, I managed to hold back the punched-out gasp that threatened to leave me. I smiled a crooked smile, torn between shock and joy that this was actually happening, Katie wanted to spend time with me. "Of course I can!" I said, wincing at me own excitement because this felt unreal, felt like any moment now she was going to start cackling, mock me for falling for her prank. But, instead, Katie hooked her arm with mine, and walked with me around the store grabbing things, holding onto her hair dye box until it was time to pay and I had to tell her to hand it back.

I never heard so many compliments about how pretty my curls were and how shiny my hair was as I did on the ride back to the house. Katie complimented me enough to make Louis feel like he had to, too, but his "I love when you have it loose like today." didn't compare with Katie's "Your hair is soft like cotton."

It was nice. But I still sort of expected the other shoe to drop. I made sure that Katie told me she wanted me to dye her hair the same color as mine and that it'd been her idea out of nowhere to do so, twice, in front of her father once we made it to the house, before I even made my way with her to the bathroom to actually do it, because I wasn't going to risk her claiming that I'd forced her or anything of that sort once it was done and there was no turning back. Once it was done, she stared at herself in the mirror, awestruck, and made me stand beside her, her expression growing even more joyful as we stood side by side with our now identically-colored hair. I even offered to get a curler and try my hand at giving her curls that looked like mine, but Katie very politely told me she just loved the color.

That day had been so perfect, I didn't even have it in me to get mad at Louis when he got a call early in the morning the next day telling him he had to go back home because something at work had gone wrong and nobody but him could sort the problem out. I just smiled and told him we'd be waiting for him, even after he told me that he'd be gone until Thursday night.

Louis left after lunch. I just resigned myself to having Katie go back to her old self the moment his car sped away from the driveway. I even walked back to the living room with fearful, hesitant steps, only to find her sitting on the carpet in front of the couch, Molly curled up on her lap, her tail wagging lazily as Katie petted her. Katie turned her eyes from the weather broadcast to me, smiling.

"It's going to rain tonight," she told me. "We could watch a movie."

That's how we ended up cuddling- yes, cuddling on the couch, a blanket over both of us, Molly lying over the blanket on Katie's lap, and a now empty bowl of popcorn on mine. Rain poured outside, but there was no thunder, just the howling of the wind and the crashing of water against glass and the wood of the porches.

Then, there was a much heavier, louder crash on the back porch.

We both tensed. Molly whined and shifted in Katie's lap, even barked, and Molly rarely barked. Something was wrong. I moved to stand and Katie's hand seized my arm, her features twisted into a fearful expression.

"Don't go," she whined.

I rested my hand over hers. It took me a minute to pry her fingers from my arm, the feeling of her grip lingered even as I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Stay here," I told her.

I moved the blanket off myself and petted Molly to try and calm her, before I slowly made my way towards the door. I peeked out through the peephole just as something heavy and human slammed against the door.

Katie stood outside, soaked to the bone. Her hair was a mess, knotty and dirty like she hadn't combed or washed it in days, her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bruises, some deep enough to bleed, she had a wild look in her eyes, looking back over her shoulder towards the woods with frantic glances, never ceasing her knocking on the door, her clothes were different from what she'd worn that day when she left the house to go for a walk, it looked like some kind of leather I couldn't recognize if I didn't open the door.

I pressed my forehead to the door and closed my eyes, feeling each vibration all the way to the bone as her fists frantically banged against the outside of the wooden surface.

"Dad, are you there?!" she cried out. "Let me in. They're going to find me! Dad!"

"I told you to stay in the backyard."

A couple seconds of shocked silence passed, then. "Teresa?" she asked. The little shit sounded almost surprised I was there, when this is my house too. "Teresa, what the hell are you waiting for?! Open the fucking door!"

"You should have fucking listened to me, you disrespectful little brat!" I spoke, louder, harsher than I'd ever dared speak to her before. I was tired of being the enabler and receiving only disrespect in return. "Now you're going to learn!"

Then came the insults. Being called an envious cunt, among many other nasty words that no twelve year old should be using with anyone, but much less with her father's spouse who had up until now been trying her best. It made it easier to turn my back to the door, eyes still shut as I took a deep breath, reminding myself it wouldn't be right to tell a child that this 'envious cunt' made her daddy's toes curl at night.

I looked towards the living room and there was Katie on the couch, where I'd left her. Her body remained facing towards the paused television, but her head was tilted as far as she could to the side, staring directly at me through the corner of her eye. Her face seemed to have paled, shoulders tense and eye wide like she'd been caught looking through my closet, but also like an animal ready to attack. Like a cornered rat, the thought popped in my head and, honestly, it was fitting. This was the most genuine emotion I'd seen on her face since she'd walked in with her clothes torn and dirty, but otherwise unscathed.

The microwave went off. The popcorn was ready.

I walked towards the kitchen slowly, holding my hands behind my back to let the Katie on the couch see them at all times. I poured all the popcorn into two bowls and added butter and salt to mine, ketchup and sugar to Katie's. The hairs at the back of my neck stood on end and, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder, I glanced towards the microwave door and saw the reflection of Katie peeking into the kitchen, staring right at me with that same 'busted child and cornered rat hybrid' look on her face. When I turned to face that direction, losing sight of her for perhaps half a second, she wasn't there. I walked back into the living room with one bowl in each hand, ignoring the banging on the door and the voice that had changed her strategy from insults to desperate pleas, and found Katie on the couch again, in the exact same position as when I'd left her.

"Remind me to add ketchup to the list of things I need your dad to buy on his way back," I hummed as I sat back by her side, resting the bowls on my lap, hers in front of mine, closer to my knees. "We don't want to run out or we'll have to find you a different snack for movie nights."

I grabbed the remote, swung one arm over the back of the couch and watched her flinch at my closeness. I didn't touch her, choosing to instead give her time to initiate contact on her own. After all, some kids are fidgety when they feel like they might be in trouble, especially kids like my Katie, always trying so hard to be the perfect child and make me happy, but not socially aware enough to tell that my previous upset had been directed at the rude little shit at the door, not at her.

It took a minute, but she finally returned to her previous position leaning against my side, and I wrapped my arm around her, tracing gentle shapes against the smooth, hairless flesh of her arm. There was hair growing there, I could feel it now.

The screams got loud and more desperate before they finally stopped and I was able to unpause the movie.

"I love you, mama," Katie said from where her head rested against my chest, one of her hands pressed flat over my belly, fingers sprawled out as if she wanted to feel as much of me as possible, as if she loved me so much she couldn't get enough of me.

"I love you too sweetie."

[charfletchh]

CALLING TOO MUCH, YOU'RE BREAKING MY PHONE. MAD WHEN YOU DO AND SAD WHEN YOU DON'T.

{ VALENTINA ZENERE, 22, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER } Is that CHARLOTTE FLETCHER? A SENIOR originally from BOSTON, MASS. they decided to come to Ogden College to study COMPUTER SCIENCE. They’re THE FEMME FATALE on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance. 

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BASICS:

full name: charlotte "charlie" elizabeth fletcher

age: 23

date of birth: oct. 28, 1999

zodiac sign: scorpio

hometown: boston, mass

gender: cis female

sexuality: pansexual

RELATIONSHIPS:

father: charles fletcher- disconnected, strict, but present. a lawyer of some kind, she doesn't really care what he does.

mother: mary brandt, formerly fletcher, formerly morales. charlie doesn't know where she is and she really doesn't care.

siblings: two younger brothersPERSONALITY:

positive qualities: generous, charismatic, supportive, nonjudgemental

negative qualities: apathetic, entitled, condescending

skills: just skating by in school, bringing the party, getting what she wants

character parallels: samantha jones (satc), serena van der woodsen (gossip girl), jackie burkhart (that 70's show), michelle richardson (skins), hailey dunphey (modern family), edie britt (desperate housewives)

relationship to greer: many thought that charlie was jealous of greer, and that was probably true in the way all women were jealous of a woman like greer. but that wasn’t it, really- charlie would have never traded her own life for greer’s golden cage. she loved her friend. but something about her dug under charlie’s skin. it could have been the glass-like skin, the goody two-shoes act, the way people looked at charlie’s chest when she talked and greer’s eyes when she did. whatever it was, she often found herself in a bad mood when they were together and would pick apart the smallest things she did. they were famous for their fights, frequently heard screaming at each other through the walls over a boy who had followed them both on instagram or a backhanded comment made two days prior about someone’s shoes. no one incensed her like greer did; the only thing more fun than fighting with her was making up with her.

school activities: volleyball (because her father made her join a sport in high school and she likes the shorts- she plays outside), kappa kappa gamma (for clout and because she looks fantastic in letters), and the robotics society (because she should probably get a job someday and she was told winning a robotics competition looked good to FAANG).

WANTED CONNECTIONS

the rolodex: her reputation is well-earned, and she wouldn't want to fail to live up to it. she's messed around with half of campus. open to any kind of FWB/one night stand/potential relationship connections!!

the chase: i think it would be funny if there was one person she was really into and they wanted nothing to do with her. or maybe the other way around!

the heartbroken: while many of her trysts end with a mutually agreed upon separation (or a separation she makes you think was your idea), inevitably, things get ugly. you have to break a few eggs to make an omelette.

charlie's angels: in greer's absense, charlie is taking advantage of the power gap to cultivate her own following. she's hand-selected a few dear friends to join her inner circle.

study buddies: "why doesn't anyone think i'm smart?" she says as she googles "do i need to pay taxes". she is good at what she does though and enjoys programming. would love to have a few other STEM connections so she can elle woods in Intro to Machine Learning.

mom friend: charlie is a wreck herself so when someone's coming to her for advice, shit must be really bad. she's always good for a cigarette and some good, if not always easy to hear, advice.

yuck!: charlie doesn't have a problem catching feelings, she just can't sustain them. so why hasn't she gotten the ick yet from someone she'd thought was just a one night stand?

i am literally down for anything though so if you have any wcs my girliepop can fill let me know!! she's unhinged i would love some unhinged plots

OTHER HCS:

i think the funniest thing in the world would be someone calling her chuck like i can't get it out of my head. if our muses r close pls call her chuck.

she's a big reader but mainly of books with insane female main characters. huge fan of Boy Parts, A Certain Hunger, My Year of Rest and Relaxation, ect.

she is not a "clean girl". she is a feral girl. she always has last night's mascara under her eyes and never makes her bed. she pays to have her laundry sent out not really because she's lazy but because she lets it pile up for like 3 weeks at a time and then has no underwear.

she was some kind of senior mentor/orientation leader/tour guide and she absolutely terrified the freshmen. i think she likes to mentor.

yes, she pulls because she's confident and confidence is sexy, but she also pulls because she's a little goofy.

her favorite moment in history is stevie nicks making lindsay buckingham sing backup on silver springs. she can only dream to have that much power over a man one day.

she's one of those girls who always thinks she should start a podcast.

she's anti-weed but pro-coke

big charli xcx girl

[punkscowardschampions]

Jac & Jesse

Jac: I think I've actually lost it fully now Jesse: ? Jac: You'd tell me, yeah Jesse: go on Jac: If I've been talking to imaginary people for the last two years, I'll be fuming at you Jesse: you've barely said owt for the last 2 years Jac: yeah, and that's served me so well today, Jesus Jac: Savannah Moore is here Jesse: add her middle name in an' all Jesse: ain't sure who you mean Jac: This is why I don't talk, twat Jesse: Sav's here and you feel what? Jac: More shocked than you are Jac: have you been checking her UCAS app or her socials, like? Jesse: you knew she might Jac: I stopped thinking maybes and what-ifs about her a long time ago Jesse: half an hour ago? Jac: Shut up Jac: you aren't helping here Jesse: I'm asking how it went Jesse: seeing her Jac: Inconveniently and mindfuckingly well Jesse: alright Jesse: start with the 1st bit Jac: Inconvenient? Jac: Well, it's inconvenient because she's still the most perfect person who's ever existed Jac: confirming that I was right every time I looked at a pretty girl and thought that she didn't compare to her Jesse: she's single now, I heard Jac: Therein lies the headfuck Jac: because one minute she's complimenting me, telling me she's missed me and everything else I could possibly wanna hear Jac: then the next she's talking about marrying Princes and having lots of perfect babies Jesse: with what word? Jesse: or words Jac: Perfect Jac: that's what she said Jac: that I was Jesse: not much of a headfuck then Jesse: she's being clear Jac: but it's not though, is it Jac: 'cos this is how she used to talk to me Jac: and we know what happened there Jesse: then either she's trying to tell you fuck all's changed Jesse: or she's testing the waters to see what could Jac: This is just Jac: unreal Jesse: what did you say back? Jac: I'm not prepared to read that back yet Jac: I was just trying not to overstep the mark and freak her out the whole time Jac: but obviously, some shit came out Jesse: shit that you wanted to come out or nah? Jac: that depends Jesse: on her Jac: Yeah Jesse: alright, what do you know about how her 2 years were? Jac: right Jac: she didn't like her school Jac: her sister did Jac: her dad is controlling as fuck, sounds like Jac: her mum had some kind of breakdown that was a long time coming and Sav didn't see her much and feels guilty about it all Jac: oh, and she had a boyfriend the whole time, obviously Jac: but he dumped her at the end of school Jesse: and she missed you Jac: yeah Jac: and that it weren't the same, with anyone else Jac: talking, being mates, like Jesse: that's loads Jesse: that's her letting you in Jac: She's a pretty open person Jac: I think Jac: I don't know Jac: not like us Jesse: you gave her nowt back then Jac: Not exactly Jac: I didn't spill my heart out there and then but I tried to be honest Jac: without being too much, you know Jesse: yeah Jac: Am I making a horrible mistake Jac: going back Jesse: not by talking to her Jesse: sounds like she needs it Jac: What do I need? Jesse: a drink Jesse: but not if you're seeing her again Jac: We're going shopping Jac: I had to get half an hour so I could scream into a pillow Jac: and message you, obvs Jesse: clothes? Jac: Potentially, but shit for my dorm, mainly Jesse: don't try anything on Jac: that's your advice, yeah? Jac: tah Jesse: 1st bit Jac: Don't hold out on me Jac: go on Jesse: slow it down Jesse: much as you can Jac: Alright Jesse: there's loads you don't know Jesse: she still might not know herself Jac: She definitely still projects straight Jac: whether she's thought about any other possibility privately, yeah, I don't know Jac: but then I might've said I fancied some Scottish lad accidentally so I can't say much Jesse: nice one, you prick Jac: I'll miss you too, dickhead Jac: she was going on about boys, I had to say SOMETHING Jesse: did you ever reckon she might be going on about boys to see what you'd say Jac: Pretty sure it was her ex she was chatting about, so unlikely Jac: and I couldn't drop in that I'd had fantasies about digging his eyes out with rusty spoons so Jac: it made sense at the time Jesse: last thing you said to her you were straight an' all Jesse: and you confirmed it 2 years on Jac: but I'm clearly painfully in love with her 😩 Jac: it's some bullshit that I've got to put that out there again to be shot down, again Jesse: she might need you to put it out there so she can do something Jesse: she might be reckoning she's going mad right now Jac: It'd be an effective way to get her off the course, but I don't know if I can handle the guilt of making her move to another shithole Jesse: it was her mum that tried to top herself, weren't it? Jesse: just realised Jac: What Jac: oh no Jac: you're 100%? Jesse: might not be Jesse: but I remember people talking about something Jesse: the time-line isn't off Jac: Shit Jac: well, I'm gonna need you to check because I had no idea Jac: she asked if I heard what happened with her mum but she obviously didn't go into specifics when I said nah Jac: what did I even say back, fucking hell Jesse: if it were her, she made a big scene about her 💔 on Facebook or somewhere beforehand Jesse: be easy to 🔍 Jac: How did I miss this Jac: I mean, I know how, I had to purge her from my life completely but Jac: that makes a lot of sense Jesse: you're fuming about the boyfriend and I get it Jesse: but who else had she got Jac: I'm not fuming at him Jac: like I wasn't actually fuming at Isabelle Jac: I know it's my own shit, but that didn't stop me holding it against them because it's easier Jesse: his existence, whatever Jesse: I'm saying everyone needs someone Jesse: it don't mean she doesn't want you Jac: that's the point, she's entitled to date whoever she likes, trust whoever she likes, and she should have that Jac: but when I wasn't enough that left me with no one Jac: and I was pissed at any lad who dated her for supposedly being half of me but still getting 1st place, and pissed at Isabelle for not being half of her but thinking it were the same in any way Jac: It was just Jac: I was angry all the time Jac: and she doesn't need that Jesse: she does if you're gonna do or be fuck all with her Jesse: she needs to know what it were like for you and you need to know what it's like for her Jac: I know Jac: but I don't know if I can open myself up to the possibility of that much hurt again Jesse: if you want me there, I'll be there Jesse: country not the convo Jac: I've been here all of ten seconds Jesse: give a shit Jesse: and bagpipes might be what this track needs, selfish prick Jac: 😂 Jesse: you ain't asked me my thoughts on how fit the Scottish are either Jesse: could be well in Jac: I've already covered that nicely without you, tah Jac: and fuck all people here are Scottish, it's mad Jesse: 👍 Jesse: do me better then Jac: Am I a compulsive liar or what? Jesse: bit strong Jac: I said I was more honest now Jac: and I did say some shit I meant to Jac: but why the fuck couldn't I just Jac: say it Jesse: you can't undo all that straight girl bollocks in a day Jesse: she don't even realise Jac: I just didn't wanna let her down when she said her kids needed best friends Jac: that's as mental as it sounds Jac: fucking hell Jesse: hang on Jesse: what Jac: not kids like current, she's not had a load Jac: when we were friends, the plan was, we go to uni together then we get jobs in the same field and then we have kids and live in the same place so they can be friends forever like us Jac: I am aware male friendships tend not to go that hard Jac: straight girl bollocks Jesse: I dunno what the fuck to say to that Jac: This is what I'm saying Jac: she'll just drop stuff like that Jesse: she wants to doing everything in her life with you forever, that's really gay Jac: only with 🤴🏾🤴🏾 in tow Jac: it'd 🤯 if I suggested we could take the spunk and run Jac: not part of the fairytales, is it Jesse: that's the point Jesse: she wants what she's been conditioned to want Jac: Maybe by year three we'll be sorted Jac: our head of department legit warned us that loads of people split up once they start #realizingthings on this course, like Jesse: right laugh Jac: 🧠 Jac: the laugh is me being able to help anyone's fucked head by the end of this, like Jesse: I dunno, you've helped me a bit Jac: if you write a song about this I'll expect a fucking fat check out of it Jesse: I can get my own straight boy whenever I want Jesse: you ain't special Jac: How dare you Jesse: 🖕😏 Jesse: 🤠 Jac: I should just Jac: never attend lectures and never leave this room Jesse: piss off Jesse: she'd come 👀 Jac: I can't be her maid of honour Jac: something's got to give, at some point Jesse: then don't Jesse: give her the options Jac: well easy in theory Jac: like LOVE ME OR LEAVE isn't an insane thing to throw at someone Jesse: like she hasn't thrown loads of mad shit at you Jac: If I could be more like her, I would Jac: 1000% she's not sat in her room freaking out right now Jac: she just does and says what she wants and moves on Jac: I do none of the above Jesse: how's that working out for her? Jesse: she sounds buzzing to me Jesse: not fucked up at all Jac: We're both insane Jesse: when you met her she was crying in a bathroom Jesse: just saying Jac: I remember, thank you very much Jac: I feel like I was a fucking predator Jac: like I knew she was vulnerable or some shit Jesse: don't start Jac: If I'd focused on being a better friend Jac: none of this would've happened Jac: just saying Jesse: you wanna be more honest, you said Jesse: how is suppressing how you feel and friendzoning yourself doing her any favours Jac: She said I always say the right things, when it matters Jac: it worked Jac: 'til it didn't Jesse: the right things for her Jesse: stop being a dickhead and say the right things for you Jac: but Jac: fuck me, you know Jesse: we all take the piss out of Jude but she's the happiest for doing it, deny it Jac: if you want me to do anything, saying I'll be like Jude is a bad tactic Jesse: it ain't about what I want Jac: yeah well Jac: reckon our time is up Jesse: bit rude Jac: I told you at the top you had half an hour Jesse: she's kept you waiting years Jesse: might make it forever if you're right about the best friend babies bollocks Jac: you wanna have a word with your own mixed messages Jac: first you want me to tell her everything, now you want me to stand her up Jesse: you fucking heard me say slow it down Jesse: that's not spilling owt in a changing room, Jackie Jesse: sort your head out Jac: Don't call me that Jac: and don't be pissy 'cos your advice has gone in about 20 different directions Jac: it's a confusing situation, I did not need you to mansplain that to me Jesse: shots fired, Jacqueline 🤠 Jesse: I ain't got the full story and neither have you Jesse: can't do nowt about that personally Jac: that's why I'm going to go see her now Jac: I'm touched, you're so upset about me leaving Jac: but I'll be back at Christmas Jesse: I ain't about to leg it from my emotions Jesse: I can say I'm upset Jac: No shit Jac: your bread and butter Jac: I'm gonna get paid for understanding other people's, not my own Jesse: I just Jesse: not again, you know Jac: I'm fine Jac: seriously Jesse: Dad ain't entered the chat Jesse: you can't fob me off with no fine Jac: this wasn't a 'meant to call the samaritans, called you by mistake' situation though Jac: I really am Jac: no real emergency here Jesse: alright, but if takes longer than 2 years to get a word out of you should this go tits up again, I'll be fuming Jac: you should say you enjoyed the peace and quiet Jesse: it was shit Jac: I know Jesse: I'm chuffed you get to have another crack at it but Jesse: trying to write some less angsty bollocks here Jac: I've got to see it through regardless Jac: we all know that Jac: she's here, we're on the same friggin' course, there's no ignoring it now Jesse: well yeah Jesse: just if you could gimme 😁 or 😍 for next summer, I'd have a hit Jac: if you can get your own straight boy, you can get your own 😁 or 😍 Jesse: you really need to have a word with yourself about this aversion you've got to inspiring me Jac: you'll be on the list of top users with me if you don't stop stealing people's angst and heartbreak for dollar Jesse: soz I don't have my own Jac: ugh Jac: go away now, bastard Jesse: 👍 Jesse: good talk Jac: was passable, anyway Jesse: have Jude rate it /10 Jac: she gets the room to herself Jac: she owes me rn, not you Jesse: what rating's she got Sav on? Jac: She's not dare do that in years Jesse: if she knew it'd be - figures Jac: again, using our sister's poor taste is nothing but affirming Jac: she doesn't like you, by the way Jesse: Jude? Jac: Ha, no Jac: Savannah Jesse: knew that Jac: Well it cheered me up a great deal Jesse: fancying both me and you would be a headfuck too far for her Jac: Don't be disgusting Jesse: it would Jesse: especially as she only likes lads if they're exactly right Jac: Boring, is what you mean Jesse: safe Jac: lacking personality Jesse: long as they make up for it in looks Jesse: so she can take a good 📸 Jac: ew Jac: not even Jac: they look like male versions of her, which is to say less refined and nowhere near as pretty Jesse: psychoanalyse that Jac: don't take a degree Jac: if they look like her, they look like her dad Jac: or her ma, whichever way she's feeling it Jac: then she can do it right and no one gets hurt Jesse: 🤢 Jac: 🤷 Jac: don't judge Jac: 'cos ours have only fucked you up in ways that make you decent enough at 🎶 that it's worth it Jesse: tah for giving 'em all the credit Jesse: nowt to do with me Jac: come off it Jac: you get enough general acclaim Jesse: sound more thrilled Jac: If you think I'm about to express an emotion for you Jesse: not that thick Jesse: finished school and everything me Jac: I was there Jac: believe it or not Jesse: 👻 Jac: 🙄 Jac: something like that Jesse: piss off and see your girlfriend then Jac: 👍