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Mrs & Mrs Willsson

@miriamandvictoria

Rp blog OCs Miriam and Victoria Willsson [Independant, selective, read #rules before interacting]
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This little short for @flashfictionfridayofficial is based on a novel called "Two of a kind heart" by Nanci Griffith. It ponders an alternate story where Leota found out who her real father was.

"Mother please!" Kerry begged. "Don't be such a coward! You have to tell her!"

Julie shook her head firmly. "I will not Kerry!" She exclaimed. "It will kill your grandmother Leota and you know it!"

Kerry took a deep breath. She was getting worked up and she so hated behaving that way. But her mother clearly had her spine in a twist since she heard the news, completely unable to provide the support Kerry had hoped for.

"That's what Clair said too! And I refuse to believe it!" Kerry argued. "Leo deserves to know that Max was not her father!"

Julie's eyes went wide as Kerry uttered the words. "Shut it! Shut it! Your grandmother could be back here any..." the sound of a plate hitting the front porch and shattering proved that she was all too late. "Mum?"

Leota stormed in the door like a whirlwind. "Max is not my father! What is this foolery?!" Her face was red, tears threatening in her emerald eyes. "He was and is the only father I will ever have!" She has no idea why this is even a subject for conversation between her daughter and youngest granddaughter, but finds it offensive regardless.

Julie holds her youngest daughter tight. She can see her getting her knickers in a twist and feared the repercussions if they went any further.

Yet, no matter how hard she held her child, she could not stop her cursed mouth.

"No he wasn't! Howard Bates was your father!" Kerry exclaimes, breaking free to reach out for her grandmother. "Howard and Perlie had an affair in 1905 and then she had you!"

Leota was just about ready to faint. To think that Howard Bates, the man she so long despised for marrying her mother after her fathers death, would be her actual father, filled her with shame unlike everything else.

Suddenly the few good years towards the end seemed so overshadowed by decades of hatred and the fact that he never stopped trying became clearer.

"Noone wanted to tell you, Leo, but I won't lie. Claire...mum...even Howard, they all got their spines in a twist trying to hide things for their own good! But it isn't FAIR!" Kerry kept arguing, not caring that everyone would rather see that she held her mouth and not finished what she started.

Julie approaches her mother from behind, catching her falling weight and getting her safely positioned on the couch. "How about some ice cold ice tea, hmm? I'll have Kerry fetch some." She glared at the girl, who ran out the room at a speed which indicated she understood her place now that the secret was out.

Leota refrains from answering. She knows Julie will fetch it for her regardless so she saves her energy to overcome her own inner turmoil.

She didn't even know where her father was buried. She begins to weep, longing for Kerry to come back so she can ask. What did she do with Howard's ashes? Did she leave them in Saratoga? If only the old fool had had the balls to tell it to her face!

And Pearlie. Her blessed mother had kept the secret all those years and never let on. Yet, she must've known it was so. She must have seen the difference from her youngest daughter to her older children.

"That's why I never got along with them" She mumbled. "Horace and the others. We knew I wasn't the same." She buries her hands deeper in her face. "What will Corra say?!" She cries.

Kerry returned with the sweet tea, handing it to her mother to hold until her grandmother would be ready for it. "I felt you had to know, '' she repeated. "I know it hurts but it's what you deserved."

Julie rubbed her mother's back. "You despise your siblings anyway...and Corra...she has the sensibility to shut her mouth" she tries and fail to laugh it off.

But Leota wasn't laughing. Not in the slightest. "Weren't you ever going to tell me? Were you always going to lie?" she asks, to which Julie blushed a deep red.

"Mum...I never knew grandpa...but the letters are clear. Howard agreed not to make any claims on you for Pearlie and Max sake." Julie explains patiently to her shell-shocked mother. "Regardless, Grandpa always loves you."

Leota didn't find her words comforting. If she had known long before, perhaps her mothers choice of partner had not seemed so strange - but perhaps it would've made her own hurt worse, and her hatred would only have grown in the soil of this deceit.

She takes a deep breath. "Where is Thomas?" She asks, though she can tell the question is perplexing.

Julie looks around. "Probably still next door. He hasn't arrived for the party yet, mother." She says.

Leota nodded, standing up. Julie offers the tea but she refuses it. "I need to see him, '' she says, leaving the house and heading over to the garden next door. It's a graveyard, dead and unkept, but it never mattered because Leota kept hers nice for him to share.

She kept herself for him. Much like her mother, someone had eventually replaced her Edgar and she simply couldn't deny it any longer.

"Leota, what are you doing here? The party is not for another half an…" Thomas, as shocked as anyone else, is not given a chance to finish. Leota kisses him straight on the lips and holds on like she never wanted anything more.

Thomas, feeling reckless amidst his own shock, kisses her back and the two seem to mels into one in the middle of the hot Texas afternoon.

Julie and Kerry stand on her porch, observing the whole spectacle unfolding before their very eyes, the overwhelming afternoon showing its biggest surprise yet.

"See mama?" Kerry tells her, almost a little smug about the outcome of the whole thing. "See what happens when you don't have your spine in a twist?"

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A fanfic about the main characters of the book "Run, rose, run" by Dolly Parton and James Patterson. They're getting married! Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

"I can't believe how far you've come. " Rhynnona whispered to Ethan as she adjusted his bowtie for the third time. He was dressed in a handsome tux and she in a glittering white dress, hair done and mile-high stilettos on. 

"Yeah, yeah let it be" He swats her hands away lovingly, and she smile back.

"Never" She whispers mischievously. 

Looking at them now, one could almost think they were going to get married.

Of course, they were, only not to each other. Jack had already led AnnieLee, or Rose, as she now preferred her loved ones call her, down the aisle to the altar minutes before. Both were now patiently waiting for their better half to arrive, looking gorgeous as they did so.

"I think it all went quite fast," Ethan admitted sheepishly. Looking back, it almost made him carsick. "From 0 to 200 in no time at all." He laughed, shaking off the unpleasant feelings he might have felt about it.

"For you and An...Rose, maybe " She jabs him gently in the ribs, equal parts funny and caring. "Me and Jack have been at it for decades. Nothing new under the sun." She explained, a dreamy expression on her face as they mentioned her fiance. They had had so much going for them, and somehow it had still taken them a very long to get this far.

"Yes, but he only needed a month and ten days to pull out the big diamond." Ethan teased right back. "And you took three seconds to say yes. About a second longer than Rose." He smiled, holding her arm tighter in his grip as he sensed the time was coming. He was going to lead her down the aisle, not the other way. He had made that clear when they first arranged who would take who, and he would not let Rhynnona pull a fast one now.

Jack had been more than happy to fill in for the "father of the bride" that Rose never had. 

Speaking of, Rose's two little sisters waved enthusiastically from their places at each side of the altar. Dressed in blush pink gowns and little tiaras, they were the most gorgeous bridesmaids he had ever seen. Not only that, but they were smiling and their skin bore no signs of bruises.

He felt so happy they could be here, all of them, of their own free will.

"Ethan, it's us now!" Rhynnona pulls at his arm, bringing him back to reality as the wedding march starts up. The two of them walk ahead, slow and stately as they move up the aisle to their expecting partners.

The priest looks joyful at the four excited people that stood before him.

"Welcome, one and all. We have gathered here today to witness the wedding of Rhynnona Rider and Jack Holm, and Ethan Blake and Rose McCord. They will now make their vows…"

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A (late) entry for @flashfictionfridayofficial - I've been reading Dolly Parton & James Patterssons book "Run, Rose, run" and wanted to write about Rhynnona Rider & manager Jack.

"I didn't mean it" Rhynnona stares down at the dead man in front of her with horror. The balcony doors are wide open between them and Jack sees her leaning dangerously backwards towards the railing.

"Darling, I know. Everyone will know. It was self-defense..."

"Everyone?!" She screams, the gun dropping from her hand to the ground as she grabs on to her own tear-stained cheeks. "Oh god, the headlines! Country musician shoots lover in a hotel room!" She sob hysterically, the thought of the scandal almost overwhelming the fact that she just killed a man.

"Darling..." Jack steps over the dead man, approaching the victim, his friend. "He was forcing himself on you. Trying to rape you...being violent." She's told him none of this so far, but he can tell. He sees the torn clothes and ugly black and blue bruises blooming on her pale things, and he knows that whoever the dead man had been she killed him for a reason. 

Rhynnona shook her head frenetically, almost not wanting to hear what he was saying. Her body arches backwards further, leaning further over the railing. At any moment, she could tip over, tumbling to her death on the pavement below.

He grabs her arms and pulls her in, holding her tight. "You didn’t mean it, Rhynnona. You didn’t mean it."

Rhynnona swallowed. "I never mean it."

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Flashfiction Friday: Rise and fall

A "Guilded Age" fanfic for @flashfictionfridayofficial . Will probably make a longer one for AO3 as I got stuck on the 1000 word thing.

!WARNING! This is set in the 1800s, some time-accurate references to one characters skin colour will be made. Nothing derogatory, just mentions of skin colour otherwise unneccesary.

“Now, remember Ladies, we are here not to pity, but to help. It is a gift, not a hand-out. No need to make them feel worse than they already do.” Miss Barton explained, some of her nurses going around and asking for people to group together as they handed out the supplies they were to disperse among the inhabitants of the poor labor camp. The women around her shifted nervously, either eager to get out of the squalor or eager to do some good deeds.

Out of her aunt’s eyes and ears, Marianne excitedly gestured for Gladys Russel to join them as they recieved their supplies, the younge heiress happily joining them.

“What’s in the bakset? Is it just food?” She asked curiously.

“There’s also medicine, and blankets and clothes” Peggy supplied, peering inside the heavy woven basket. “perhaps you should let me carry it Marianne” 

Marianne shook her head. “Oh no, there is no need. It is not as heavy as it looks.” She said, smiling sweetly. She still struggled to see peggy as anything but her equal and so tried to fight the expectations when she could.

Peggy was about to argue back, reminding her that things were nto the same as they had been back in Pennsylvania, but Gladys interrupted them both.

“Lets get going, all the other ladies are already moving out” She remarked, gesturing to the thinning crowd around them.

Peggy and Marianne both nodded, and after a moment of hesitation they took a handle each and carried the basket between them. The roads, if they could even be called that, were wet and slippery with brown mud that stunk, telling of diseases and wastage hiding in it’s layers. It was disgusting for anyone used to something nicer, and suddenly Miss Barton’s warning not to show pity seemed all the more relevant.

“I don’t understand how one could possibly live like this” Gladys said worriedly, looking around at the meager shacks and tents that surrounded them. “it must be so miserable.”

“I am sure it is. But when you can’t afford an ything better, you are not happy not to sleep on the ground” Peggy noted wisely. 

“And if it was of any living quality, nor would they need the generosity of Miss Barton” Marianne noted.

The three ladies nodded, in agreeance as to the situation they were facing, and, hopefully, would help to remedy with the aid of the gifts they brought along with them and which their mothers and relatives payed handsomely for to be purchased.

“I think our first stop is down here” Peggy pointed down a narrow pass between two tents. “We’re looking for lot forty-eight, the number has to be pinned on the tent.” She added, not sure if the other women had listened intently enough.

The two other women nodded, and the three of them began to try to squeeze their way down inbetween, careful not to trip on the wires holding up the tents on either side.

“Forty-eight” Gladys smiled as their endevour payed off and they saw the number pinned to the opening of a rugged tent, which more resembled a children’s playhouse for how small it was. “Do we knock?” She then asked, unceratain.

“Knock on what?” Marianne asked, a little bothered by Gladys behaviour. It felt as though she had expected something much better. “It’s a tent, there is no door!” 

Their bickering seemed to have had an offect, however, as one half of the tarp that served as front door was pulled aside, a heavily pregnant woman hardly older then either of them making her exit.

“What on god’s green acre is going on? Are you lost?” She starre them up and down with shock and envy, semingly not even noting Peggy’s colour over the look of her clothes. Her own clothes were ragged, too small and leaving flesh exposed where her belly bulged under the outgrown shirt. she had no shoes on her dirty feed, the mud making them as brown as Peggy.

Marianne is first to recover, coughing and putting on a gentle smile. “We come from Miss Barton, and the red cross. She sent us to delivers supplies to you. For the winter.” She explained.

“Exactly! Food and blankets and clothes. There’s even some medication.” Gladys added eagerly, pointing to the basket her two friends were holding.

The woman seemed to calm down then, realizing what three fine ladies were doing in the knee high mud she called home. Gently, she bowed before them, holding out her skirt as best she could.

“Oh I see. Thank you, I am ever so grateful for these gifts.” She said, her voice composed well articulated as though she was, like them, a lady.

Marianne smiled. “You speak kindly. Surely it is we who are happy to give a gift to those who could use it.” She said. 

Gladys was getting increasingly excited now, her mother owuld never have permitted her to even look at such a perosn. “And you speak and act very well! Who taught you that?”

The young girl smiled back. “My goveness did. And my mother. I can read and write to, not that it matters here” She looked around her. “i was once a lady just like you.”

Marianne’s face faltered then, as did those of her two lady companies. “You were? Then what happened? How did you end up here?” She asked.

The woman sighed, and once more looked around. “I guess when one rise, another fall. My mother and father’s families both lost most of their assets in the war. Once it was over, they lived the rest of their lives on what they had and could recoupe. it was not enough to leave anything once they were gone, and their families had all perished many years before.” She explained sadly, hurrying to reach for the basket of supplies, not enjoying the interegation.

The women nodded somberly, and Marianne felt her heart ache. Suddenly, the grace of Aunt Agnes to take her in seemed all the sweeter, and she was acutely aware of her luck in being as well-dressed and taken care of as she was. Quietly, they handed in the supplies and bid their goodbye. 

Indeed, it seemed that when some fell, other rose.

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I hear the noise of War

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial - This is a short fanfic inspiered by the short scene between Freya & Niobe in The Matrix: Reloaded. No direct spoilers, but not strictly spoiler free either. I love elderly lesbians.

AO3 Link: Link Here!

The artificial sun rises over Io once more, but for once it gives Niobe no peace.

She doesn't see the peaceful sunrise that she normally observes with such diligence. Her many years of life have taught her to enjoy the beauty while it lasts, but today she can't. 

Even with only one good eye left she knows what she sees. She sees the heaven above her catching fire as the robots rise over Zion. 

When the skies caught on fire, her ears had been filled with noise. In minutes, silent peace turned to the noise of war, and everything that Neo did had been erased.

She heard that noise again, when Neo stepped up before her alive and well. She hears it, when she closes her eyes and remember how it used to be before they finally learnt to hide.

When she opens her eyes again, heaven is on fire and the noise of war cuts through the silent peace of Io.

"Be...Be look at me." A soft blanket wraps around her shoulders, warm hands gently caressing her cold soul. "Look at me my love."

She turns her head tiredly, her good eye staring straight into the dark pools of Freya's two. They go on forever, flickering with remnants of long-forgotten code, revealing the intelligence hiding inside.

"There is no noise." Frey says, her lips moving closer until they are right by her lover's ear, her sweet breath tickling Niobe's skin. "The war is gone, Be."

"Heaven is on fire." She stares straight ahead again, and she sees it. She sees the skies burning, hears the noise of warm and feels the ground shake beneath her weary bones. "I hear the noise. I feel the robots shake the ground. They're coming back, Freya."

She trembles even more at that, the words painful to say, and tears rise in her eyes.

She never cried, but for the loss of another human sanctuary, she was prepared to weep.

The warm arms hold her tighter, lips brushing against her cheek. "Close your eyes, Bee. Close your mind." Freya tells her softly, moving so she can lean her forehead against her lover's.

Niobe hesitates, but ultimatelt does as she is told. She never takes orders, and she never trusts anyone but herself, but there is an exception.

Freya is an exception. Niobe has to trust Freya, because if she does not, the. there is no point in being free.

"Now look at me, I am inside you. We're there together."

Niobe's inner eye opens, and suddenly they are standing out on the beach. They are young, free of their respective burdens, and it feels like the Matrix. In a way, it is, with the hot sand burning beneath their feet and everything manifesting as a reality around them. Only they control this land, and the robots do not.

It is perfectly quiet on the beach.

"There's peace here Be." Frey tells her kindly, coming closer. "Take that peace and put it out there. Make your own paradise, outside and inside."

Freya takes three steps closer and kisses Niobe straight on the lips, hugging her tight.

 "Show the Matrix we don't need them.

Niobe opens her eyes to the real world, and finds that she is laying down on the balcony. Her partner lays safely in her arms, cuddling her close.

It is quiet in Io now.

The ground doesn't tremble

And there is no noise 

Niobe feels at peace. And with peace, as always, comes happiness. She kisses her loved one, who kisses her gently back, happily playing with her dreads.

And perhaps, only perhaps, Neo would succeed this time.

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OCtober Day #11: Truce

Day 11! This time I'm looking at one of the children in my OCs family and her relationship to her father. Based on a prompt by @oc-growth-and-development & inspired by the song "Feet of a dancer" by Maura O'Connell.

"Thank you for coming. I wasn't sure you'd show..." Rick smiled down at his oldest daughter, giving her a quick hug as he met at the door to the club. "You know, you seemed a little reluctant on the phone."

"I was reluctant, dad. I didn't really want to come." Lydia's mouth was set in a firm frown, quickly pulling away from the embrace. "Are my sisters here?" She questions, not trying to hide her true intentions. 

She hadn't come to her father's show to actually watch her father perform - but to see her step-sisters. It was not their fault her father's actions had kept them apart for so long, nor was it their fault that she was so angry with their father, and Lydia always tried to keep her younger sisters out of it.

Rick's face fell a little when he realized, but he nodded. "On the front row, sweetie. There's a spot for you next to them. Have fun." He sighed, patting her shoulder as they went back inside.

She knows she hurts him, keeping her distance, but she thinks it's fair. All the ways he hurt her and her little sisters...it was not something she was willing to let go off, not yet. It had only been five years since his last criminal act and she still didn't trust the change to last.

She moves through the darkness towards the front of the room, and she considers how much she would've given to be in that same position as a child. How many letters from jail it took her before she started to realize that her father was not someone to be loved and idolized.

Quickly, she finds her seat. Her sisters sit in theirs, grinning and waving their hands excitedly when she comes.they each have a can of soda in their hand and Lydia wished  she ordered a beer at the bar. She goes to them, giving each  of them a hug, and she thinks maybe it's better she didn't.

Someone had to be a role model for the girls.

The last few lights still lit in the crowded room go out, and the audience roar as the band members stumble through the darkness onto the stage, fumbling to find their instruments and get in order.

Finally, a spotlight turns on and Ricky stands squinting in the light. "Well, welcome everyone." He smile lopsidedly, his eyes straying down to his four daughters. "Thank you all for coming. We are very excited to have you!"

The audience cheer, each of them seemingly a little drunk and very excited.

Ricky chuckles. "Thank you. Thank you. Now...the first song of the night is a new one. It's called Feet of a dancer, and it's dedicated

To a woman I helped make, once upon a time. I love her a lot, but I think she need a little encouragement." His eyes turn downwards, and there are no more words needed for Lydia to know that she is it.

She frowned back, not wanting to encourage it. She doesn't want to be singled out like that, nor does she appreciate that he thinks a song alone could fix all the hurt he out her through.

Ricky, however, seemed oblivious to his daughter's disapproval - in fact she wasn't sure her father could actually see her in the darkness. Slowly, he began to strum on his guitar, pulling at each string with the same tenderness you touched a child. "I hope you find the feet of a dancer, I hope you can sing in the rain...I hope you find all the easy answers to your pain."

Her sisters gave her gentle nudges, smiling at her in the darkness. They, too, knew who the song was about. They were young, but not stupid.

"It's dad's new song!" Maysilee whispered. 

"He wrote it just for you." Julia added. "Since you're always so angry with him. He wanted you to hear what he thinks of you."

She barely heard them. She just stared at her dad, both their emerald green eyes meeting for a second verse.

"It won't be easy...what can I say? There'll be trouble on the way." He paused, his guitar dying out as he looked straight at her again. "There'll be terror around every corner, but always remember that we're here." He started up again, and this time, the band joined in.

I hope you find hope and affection, I hope you find someone who care, I hope you find direction everywhere...

He sings on, and Lydia can feel something giving in inside. A pressure lifted from her chest, as she started to forgive. If the song was really about her, it showed he cared, and he understood. 

She could hardly believe it, but slowly, she was starting to feel happier with her father.

"A shoulder to cry on whenever you're alone,You can rely on us you know;

Nothing too crazy, nothing too dear,

Always remember that we're here." Ricky finishes out the song and the whole  audience starts to applaud, seemingly just as touched as Lydia.

"Dad!"

Lydia ran up to Rick as he came off the stage, throwing her arms around him. Her little sisters were not far behind, making it a tight group hug.

"Hey girls, did you like the show?" Rick was surprised to have his oldest daughter hug himmfirst, but welcomed the close contact. 

"It was  amazing daddy!" Maysilee insisted.

"I loved it papa!" Rosie agreed happily, both excitedly moving around.

Ricky grinned. Then, with a hopeful smile, her turned to Lydia. "What did you think sweetie?"

Lydia hesitated. She wasn't one for wearing her heart on her sleeve, but in this case it was necessary. "I loved it dad." She promised. "It was lovely."

Ricky looked even more surprised now, but then he gave an absolutely radiant smile.

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

Lydia thought about it.

"Let's call it a truce."

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OCtober Day 4: Medicine

Another dramatic oneshot from @oc-growth-and-development fantastic prompt list. This tume it's Vicky and her wife Miriam having a real talk about Vicky's mental health.

"Vicky!"

Victoria looked up from making a lunch sandwich, staring at her wife. "Yes love?" She asked, wondering what was happening. Her partner looked stressed, but she couldn't tell why.

"Vicky, what are these?" Miriam held out the little plastic bottle with the child safe cap. "Vicky, you didn't tell me they put you on antidepressants again."

Victoria turned away. "They didn't put me on anything. I chose to start taking them again...you know I've been talking to my psychologist."

"Yes, talking! That's not the same as taking all of these!" She slammed the bottles down on the table, a little frustrated. Her wife always had a tendency to avoid mentioning "Little" things like that. "'Vicky...why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I know you'd get upset." Vicky said quietly. "And you'd start ranting about him. It still hurts, okay?" She looked at her wife, praying for both of them to keep their calm.

Miriam swallowed hard, picking up an old newspaper for recycling. "Vicky, it's been twenty years. When will you get over it? He died."

Vicky snapped her head back, suddenly staring straight at her partner. "I can't." She said, dead serious. "'You know I can't. And if I could...I wouldn't want to. He was a good man. He deserves to be remembered by someone." She paused. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the pills...but it has nothing to do with him and you know it!"

Miriam didn't agree. She glared at her wife darkly as she threw the trash away. "Alright." She said simply, calmly. "You don't want to get over it. I guess it's all okay then. Forget I ever said anything."

Vicky frowned. "Miriam...if you're not happy it's not." She told her kindly. "I care about you.

"I don't matter." Miriam insisted. "I know you wished you went with Greg instead. Only he died and I was the second best. You already had me hanging on. Perfect second hand option."

"Miriam that's not it…" Victoria disagreed, her voice pleading. "Don't act like that's it Miriam…"

"Like what? Vicky I have been waiting so long and you just...just keep thinking about him, always. You should think of us!" Miriam argued angrily. "It's like I'm married to someone who doesn't even know it!"

"Miriam!" Victoria tried to cut in, but Miriam wouldn't hear it.

"No! I've waited long enough now! I'm sick and tired of being second best!" She exclaims,unable to help herself as tears burn in her eyes. "Take pills, go to a psychologist, I don't care! Just get rid of him from our life!"

"I have PTSD!" Victoria screams back, both of them stunned as they stare into eachothers eyes. It's not their first row, not by a long shot, but the first of that kind. The first one where it seems no one won or was even in the right, really.

"Oh goodness Vicky...did they really make the diagnosis?" She asked, shocked. "Is it down on paper?"

"Yes, they did!" Vicky laughs and she cries all at once. She is so overwhelmed, so emotional, and her wife's rampage has not made it any better. "The new psychologist  finally listened to me!"

Miriam broke into tears as well. "Oh love, that's amazing! I am so sorry I didn't listen to you! I'm so sorry I yelled." She puts her hands on her wife's cheeks, coming closer to try and make up for her harshness.

Victoria grinned. She gripped Miriam's hands, squeezing them. "It's okay...all these years...you've been so patient. It's time I try to pay back. Try to get better." She said seriously. "I can remember him in better ways than I have...and I know you want  me to deal with it in a better way."

"I want you to be happy." Miriam insisted. "I can see that thinking about it the way you do doesn't make you happy...the kids know it too. We want  you to get better."

She nodded. "And I promise I will. The psychologist and the medicine are the first steps to that." Victoria smiled. "It's all up from here.

Miriam grinned. "I love you." She said, kissing her gently.

"I love you too."

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OCtober Day # 2: Glass

Inspiered by @oc-growth-and-development , here is a short writing for the second day of OCtober. As always I love generating short moments of drama with this family.

"I hate you!" Lydia screamed,  throwing the plate to the floor and watching it shatter into a million pieces.

"Lydia! Don't break things!" Miriam snapped, stepping in between her wife and daughter. "We don't break things in this house!"

"Shut up! You're not my mother!" Lydia argued back, pushing her away. 

"Hey, don't push my mother!" Alice cut in, approaching her little sister. "She is your mum! And you don't ruin her dishes because you're dad's in prison!"

"Well your dad fucked off before you were born!" Lydia hounded, picking up a glass. 

"Hey! Girls!" Vicky stepped forward, reaching out her arms to try and separate the two girls, Miriam going to stop their other child.

Lydia didn't listen. All she could think of was her anger and the weight of the glass in her hand.

Then, she threw it.

As her parents and her sister screamed, the glass flew through the air, heading at a startling speed to her sister's head.

It was all over in a second. The glass hit, her sister collapsed, and all Lydia could feel was regret. 

Regret, that she started it all from the beginning.

Regret, that her sister lay bleeding at her feet

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We're back baby! @flashfictionfridayofficial is here once more! Thanks to @human-nxture for inspiering me to pick it up...you're great! This one is about Victorias mother Caroline and her (supposed) father Kristopher, meeting again for the first time in a long time...

Caroline took one step into the office, and stopped. She looked around, taking it all in.

Records. Stacked from floor to ceiling, covering every empty surface. And what wasn't covered with them, was filled with CD discs and papers and technical equipment. It was all a big mess, really, but somehow Caroline was certain that Kristopher knew exactly how to find what he needed.

"What do you think, eh, Carry?" Kris grinned, holding his arms out. Welcome to my man cave." He laughed.

Carry laughed too. It was sudden, almost a little forced. "You don't change, do you?" 

She steps closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He smile, smirks even, and wraps an arm around her waist.

"Neither do you, baby girl."

Suddenly, it's like she's been there before. It's like they're still twenty years old and their whole lives ahead of them. Like nothing could ever go wrong. But it wasn't right, they weren't twenty and so much had happened since they last saw eachother. So much pain, and upset, and - 

She steps away, pulling away from his firm grip on her waist, and all at once the moment was over. She sighed.

"Sorry" She whispered.

Kris ignored it. "It's like we've been here before, isn't it?" He asked sadly. "Like all this just…" He shuddered, and so did Carry.

"Yes. It's called Deja Vu." Carry inform him gently, coming back closer to touch his arm. It's her left hand, her wedding bands sparkling on her ring finger. She wants to be close to him, want to reconnect, but she feels how thin the ice is underneath their feet. She has to keep some sort of distance.

"So it is" He shakes off her hand, smiling painfully. "Now, let's get down to business. Why are you really here Carry?"

Carry smiled, picking up the paper roll she had left on the desk, popping it open. Gently, careful of the fragile paper, she oulled the poster out from inside.

"I want everything you have with this woman."

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OCtober 2021 Prompts

Tis the season for OCtober 2021! As always, these prompts are open for interpretation and you can do pretty much anything you want with them - write, roleplay, draw, daydream some scenarios, anything goes. For those who are new here or need a refresher, here’s an overview of the event. Tag me @oc-growth-and-development and use #oc-tober so I can reblog your creations!

October 1st, 2021 - October 31, 2021

Day 1: Journey

Day 2: Glass

Day 3: Duel

Day 4: Medicine

Day 5: Throne

Day 6: Mask

Day 7: Power

Day 8: Sugar

Day 9: Spice

Day 10: Wish

Day 11: Truce

Day 12: Garden

Day 13: Burn

Day 14: Cage

Day 15: Stitch

Day 16: Lie

Day 17: Embrace

Day 18: Watch

Day 19: Shadow

Day 20: Tear

Day 21: Impact

Day 22: Discovery

Day 23: Crumble

Day 24: Smile

Day 25: Spirit

Day 26: Carve

Day 27: Anniversary

Day 28: Rest

Day 29: Climb

Day 30: Soothe

Day 31: Home

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A new one for @flashfictionfridayofficial . Its been a long time and I fractured arm but somehow I'm back! Rick in therapy this tome because god does he need it.

"Well, we said the last time we'd talk about the mother of your oldest daughter, Lydia." The psychologist smiled kindly at the man on the couch. "So why don't you start?"

Rick swallowed. "Her name's Victoria. Most people call her Vicky." He began softly. "I saw her at a gig. She was playing with Doralee Rhodes...the country music star? Anyway she was playing with her and I was in the opening band. We got to talking after the show and the rest... is history." He swallowed hard.

"Well, won't you tell me more?" The psychologist asked. "What is she like? What does she look like?"

Rick pondered it. "She's a free spirit...she's the best painter I've ever seen and her music is so wonderful...her mind is full of beautiful things...and beasts. She's haunted but happy."

"That's an oxymoron." She told her client gently. 

"She had it tough at first. She had two people she were in love with and it put her in a lot of trouble. But she's so happy with what she got in the end." He clarified quietly. "She used to have this really curly brown hair that zig-zagged around her face. Her eyes were always big and scared and observing."

The psychologist nodded, making quick notes. 'Vicky' had been referred to in many pf their previous sessions, so it has been no surprise when he felt he wanted to talk about her specifically. "How come you had a baby together?"

"She wanted one." Rock shrugged. "Her wife has a daughter from a previous relationship...Vicky and I were good friends and she asked me to father their second baby. I said yes."

"Mm" The psychologist nodded. "What is your relationship like today?"

Rick recoiled. He had known the question was likely to be asked, but it still stung. "It...could be better. She's still got a grudge." He said sadly. Slowly, he closed his eyes. "She's the one who put me in jail. She heard what I did and called the cops..." He trails off. There is so much he want to say but no word make it over his lips.

She waited to see if her client would continue herself, but when he didn't, she spoke. "And why does that anger her?" She asked gently. "You're the one who went to jail." She knew, of course, of exactly what he did to end up in prison and what went on when he was i side, but she wanted his to connect the dots himseld.

"Because I threatened her, when I found out. And because I didn't just leave her. I left all three of my daughters without a father for so long." He took a deep  breath. "I left her with a moral responsibility. They were her daughter's half-siblings. She felt obliged to help."

She nodd. "And how does that make you feel? Now and then."

He sighed, slowly opening his eyes. "Then, it made me angry. It made me angry that she would call the cops, and not stand by me the way I thought such close friends should. Now, I see her point." He said quietly. "These days I'm just guilty. It was my fault, in the end. I try to undo the harm but its hard. I can not rewind time." 

"You're guilty. You've never told me that before." She pointed out, smiling a little. "It's a feeling we can work with. How does that feel?"

"It makes me feel like I cleaned my soul a little bit."

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Interogation/Introduction

An entry for the new @yourocsbackstory event. I will follow the weekly prompts, focusing on Miriam & Vicky’s daughter Lydia. First starter i Introduction, and interrogation.

“Please. I don’t want to believe you are guilty but…you’re not giving me much to go on.” The Detective begged, though the redhead across from him seemed to remain unaffected.

“No comment.” She insisted, setting her jaw.

“At least give me a name.” He asks her kindly. “A first name, even. Give me something to call you.”

She laughed. “You’ve been calling me sweetheart for the last hour. I don’t mind it staying that way.”

“Did you murder the man?” He changes tactics, trying to trip her up. Based on the last hours efforts, he doubt it will work, but he tries.

“No comment.” She draw back, her chair scraping across the floor as she tries to get away from him. “Give me  a lawyer and I might answer.”

“You got a good one lined up?” He lifts an eyebrow, and wonders of she got a past history. It might be reason to safe guard her identity. “If you’ll give me something, anything, I’ll consider it.”

The woman seem to consider the offer for a minute. Then, she nod. “I’m an actress.” She said. “My biological father did time for manslaughter and I have two mothers.”

It’s odd details, things that seem more personal than a name, but he quickly write it down.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He informs her sincerely when he is done. “Anything else you’d like to tell me.”

She smirk. “I know Doralee Rhodes.”

“The country singer?” He frown, further confused now. Though he thought he was getting somewhere, he suspected she was only really playing with him.

“Yes. I sang with her. Can I have my lawyer.” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “Pretty please?” She flutter her eye lashes, acting overly sweet.

He sigh. It drives him mad but he knows a dead end when he sees it. Putting away the notebook, he stands up and walk to the door. “I will get you a phone to call a lawyer. But for that poor lawyer’s sake, I’d consider cooperating a little more.”

As he is about to slam the heavy metal door behind him, when he hears her speak one last time.

“My name is Lydia Willsson.”

Well this is one hell of an introduction. Unwilling to give many details, i am curious about how many are true though, and how many were her just trying to get a lawyer (which, in fairness, she should ALREADY have XD)

So accused of murder and driving this detective mad with her uncooperative-ness. YEAH BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T HAVE A LAWYER.

It does make me curious about whether she did or didn’t just kill someone.

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Interogation/Introduction

An entry for the new @yourocsbackstory event. I will follow the weekly prompts, focusing on Miriam & Vicky's daughter Lydia. First starter i Introduction, and interrogation.

"Please. I don't want to believe you are guilty but...you're not giving me much to go on." The Detective begged, though the redhead across from him seemed to remain unaffected.

"No comment." She insisted, setting her jaw.

"At least give me a name." He asks her kindly. "A first name, even. Give me something to call you."

She laughed. "You've been calling me sweetheart for the last hour. I don't mind it staying that way."

"Did you murder the man?" He changes tactics, trying to trip her up. Based on the last hours efforts, he doubt it will work, but he tries.

"No comment." She draw back, her chair scraping across the floor as she tries to get away from him. "Give me  a lawyer and I might answer."

"You got a good one lined up?" He lifts an eyebrow, and wonders of she got a past history. It might be reason to safe guard her identity. "If you'll give me something, anything, I'll consider it."

The woman seem to consider the offer for a minute. Then, she nod. "I'm an actress." She said. "My biological father did time for manslaughter and I have two mothers."

It's odd details, things that seem more personal than a name, but he quickly write it down.

"I'm sorry about your father." He informs her sincerely when he is done. "Anything else you'd like to tell me."

She smirk. "I know Doralee Rhodes."

"The country singer?" He frown, further confused now. Though he thought he was getting somewhere, he suspected she was only really playing with him.

"Yes. I sang with her. Can I have my lawyer." She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. "Pretty please?" She flutter her eye lashes, acting overly sweet.

He sigh. It drives him mad but he knows a dead end when he sees it. Putting away the notebook, he stands up and walk to the door. "I will get you a phone to call a lawyer. But for that poor lawyer's sake, I'd consider cooperating a little more."

As he is about to slam the heavy metal door behind him, when he hears her speak one last time.

"My name is Lydia Willsson."

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@ockissweek short nr.2 people! This time it's about when Vicky got pregnant with Lydia. Enjoy!

“Do we really need to go out into the woods to talk?” Miriam asks, confused as she let her partner lead her by the hand. She doesn’t know where they are going, but she doubts Victoria does either.

“I don't want Dora to overhear. This is between you and me.” Victoria explains, glancing back at the field where they came from, happy to see that their friend had not followed them when they walked off. “Okay, I think we walked far enough.”

“Great!” Miriam says, letting go of the hand as they both come to a stop. “Now can you please tell me what this is all about? And why it couldn’t wait until literally any other time?”

Victoria sighed deeply, suddenly a bit nervous at her partner's irritated approach. “Well, you know we said we wanted another baby…” She began slowly, biting her lip. “And you know me and Rick have been…” She trails off, but knows her partner will know what she intends.

“Yes.” Miriam said slowly, nodding. “I know all that. We decided we wanted another child. Vicky, what are you saying?”

“I’m pregnant!” She blurted it out, wanting the awkward moment over with and to see her partner happy again. “I’m pregnant Miriam. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Oh my god! Miriam exclaimed, absolutely shocked by this statement. “We’re having a baby!” She squealed, throwing her arms around her partner’s neck and hugging her.

“I’m so glad you’re happy.” Now, Victoria is smiling too, delighted by her partner's excited response. Gently, she bowed her head down and kissed her partner on her head. “You’re going to be the best mum.”

“You’re going to be the best mum” Mirim rep,lied, leaning her head upwards to kiss her on the lips instead, delighted beyond words. “I’m so happy!”

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