#flawurchild

RANDOM PROMPTS!

He needed no reminder. It had been like this for months piling into years, with the occasional interruption. Jellybean ditching for a friend’s birthday party, Jughead missing to see a movie at the drive-in with Archie, either of his parents having to take an extra shift that caused their absence. Still, he was terribly skeptical about the night, what with the gloomy aftermath of what Jughead had been silently referring to in his mind as the big fight from the other night. Things had remained tense under the Jones’ roof after a heated argument, voices raised between mother and father to the point where he had taken up post in his little sister’s room just to make sure she was okay and distracted enough to not focus too hard on it. She was smart though, perceptive beyond her years, and he knew she was still greatly affected by the way their parents spoke to one another when things became particularly strenuous.

Lips tightly pressed together, he gave his dad a flat look, expression impassible as green eyes stayed stoically on his brown ones. He chewed on words silently before trying any of them out, walking the fine line between his usual snarky commentary and the respect he had for his dad. “Uh huh,” he mused flatly, expression remaining neutral safe for the darkening cloud hanging over his eyes. “If I recall, family dinner night includes everyone sitting at the same table. Think you and mom can manage it without burning down the buffet?”

𝐇𝐄   𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊   𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃   𝐁𝐄   𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆   .                he   nodded   absent - mindedly   as   he   moved   about   the   kitchen   making   jug      &      him   some   sandwiches   .      four   for   his   best   friend      &      one   for   him   .      he   stopped   to   look   over   at   his   mom   ,        smiling   softly   .                        ❝          okay   ,    mom   .      will   do   .       he   doesn’t       MEAN       to   slam   the   door   ,        it   just   happens   .          i’ll   remind   him   ,    though   !          ❞                    he   said   ,    walking   over   with   the         high   piled   plate         to   give   her   a         quick   kiss         on   her   cheek   .                    ❝          remember   that   jug   is   spending   the   night   so   he         will   be   up         for   midnight   snacks   ,    i   suggest   that   if   you   don’t   want   anything   eaten   to   stow   it   away   in   your   room   .      call   us   when   dinner   is   ready   !           ❞                     he   added   ,    walking   out   of   the   kitchen       &      towards   the   stairs   to   go   up   to   his   room   .

      ❝    you  sure  you  didn’t  leave  your  spine  there  with  it  ?    ❞  the  contortion  of   inherited  features,  a  mask  that only  forms when  she breathes near.  there were days you thought you harbored more hate in your heart for her than her keeper.  a  feat  you  thought  impossible,  there  were  moments where the  semblance  of  halo  hovered  above  your father’s head alongside a mother that left her son for dead.  not the cruelty of the oppressor, but the silence of the bystander  that  stings.  eyes locked with every blow  delivered,  a  bruised  eye  taunts  her  now  :  you  made sure she knew of her sin.   a body gone numb,  a  nose  bled  dry.    not  a  fucking  muscle  moved  &  yet  she imagines a sum worth your suffering  on  her  way  out  the  door.   it’s insulting,  disappointment’s  consistency  a  painful  reminder of what she would never fulfill  so  long  as  they  lived,  self -  preservation  ruling  lifeblood, survival  embedded  in  bones.   the only thing she never  failed  at,  if  not everything else.  

     ❝   apology  not  accepted.   ❞  the  swipe  of  plastic  between fingers as it leaves granite, foreshadowing an afternoon of  spiteful spending.  perhaps a new car was in order   in light of recent confiscations.  some  earned  me - time  as  she  would  call  her  efforts  to  flee.   the  baring of teeth as they near hers,  a foot out the door as it’s always been.   how  he  would  prove  his  genealogy  with  the  drop  of  pointed  phrase.  ❝  have  fun  when  richard  finds  out  you  went  behind  his  back.  ❞   you  find it  hard to feel sorry,  chasing  a  false  idea  of  justice.   ❝   something  tells  me  we’ll  have  matching  shiners  soon.  ❞    

diane vc; u gave guns to kids

she asks,  standing in the doorway between living room and kitchen,  and hopper barely hears the question over the sudden sight of her.   she’s glowing.   they say that pregnant woman do,  though,  don’t they?   they glow.   diane had told him to  shut up  the first time he’d said it.   had laughed and smiled,  all bashful and head shaking,  when someone else had said it…   but looking at her,  here,  now…   she was.   as bright at the sun.   the mother of his child.   a girl,  they knew now.   jim was going to have a daughter,  and the news both terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.   he just wanted to be ready for it;   wanted to be equipped,  able to handle it.   he wanted…   he wanted to be a good father.     “sara,”     he repeats after a delayed moment,  when her eyebrows raise and her hands threaten to rest on her hips.   he’s been staring at her for too long.   jim can’t find it within himself to look away.     “sara…   i like sara.” 

╰        random  ic  ask   !         always  accepting.        ⦉     @flawurchild     ⦊

             A   STRANGE   BUT   PERFECT  MATCH.   ginger  father,  brunette  son.  connected  not  by  blood  but  fervor  for  beloved  classic  series.     IV:   A  NEW  HOPE   shakes  speakers,  laser  sound  effects  filling  the  air  from  television.   popcorn  bowl  in  hand,  refilled  from  a  trip  to  the  kitchen  with  mary,  as  form  collapses.  body  settles  into  pastel  couch,   matched  intentionally  to  interior’s  design,   of  course  ;  the  staple  of a  white  family,  he  thinks,  to  the  t.  from  the  welcome  doormat  to  the    ‘       LIVE.  LAUGH.  LOVE.     ’   wall decor.    snorted  chuckle  at  ginger  nemesis’s  mention,  too much faith  stored  in  the  town’s  golden  boy  to   enjoy  fine  art.