"what If I Said That I Thought It Was You?" He Asks, Nonchalantly Folding Freshly Dried Clothes Into

any mention of marie never fails to make kennedy advert their gaze from santiago. it's subtle, usually under the pretense of being occupied with something else, like inputing a password into a laptop. "thank you." they say, not willing to comment on the two reminders that passweord held. 3126— the house the two grew up in. marie—that house was never meant for kennedy and their mother to begin with.

it takes them back to one of their earliest memories as a new 'family'. at the time kennedy was certain their mother's attempt of uniting their two families was just a ploy to make her own father jealous. a classic move: mom and dad split. mom and dad introduce new partners. mom and dad get back together again. but suzanne's affinity with jonathan herrera was of a different beast. when suzanne wasn't with him, she was daydreaming about him—his wealth, his gifts, his home—3126. the future he would provide her and by extension, his daughter... and kennedy absolutely hated it. so the first time santiago mentions his mother and how she was not coming back, kennedy responds with. 'well my father isn't dead so he is.'

an apology had been given. indignantly. from behind her mother's legs. an 11 year old who knew the cruelty in their words but was too overwhelmed by their own emotions to worry about anyone else's. though the years had slowly managed to mend the bad foot in which the two started their sibling relationship, there is a part of kennedy that still replays that moment. they can still picture santiago's expression—the hurt in his brown eyes, raw and clear in their memory. he deserved a better apology and maybe tonight was the best night to finally give it—

"that's so depressing, santi. don't say that." they say instead, brows pinching together both at his words and at their own internal cowardice. "the city could suit you too, you know." now that they secured access to a laptop, kennedy's shoulders visibly relax. "you know what? after crashing in that disgusting dumpster fire that june, finch, and avery like to gaslight everyone into believing is an actual apartment... the guest room doesn't feel too bad." they say with a chuckle. if a zombie apocalypse hits kennedy swears that their apartment will be ground zero. "i was thinking of renting something closer to work for the time being." closer to santiago too.

then maybe jon's requests to 'talk some sense' into santiago would lessen to the occasional text or phone call. kennedy knew coming back to town would revert them back to the role they often played within the family— the devils advocate. if the oldest can't lead by example, they're expected to play the role of a third parent. "he doesn't mean it." there they go. "he’s just saying that cus he thinks it’ll... i don’t know. stir something in you.” a sigh escapes them then as they go pinch the bridge of their nose, the wright of the night settling in. "sorry, i know i brought it up but... can we not talk about our parents tonight? i don't want to fight." not when their chest still aches from the panic that gripped them earlier—the panic at the thought that the body found tonight might have been his.

⁑ he rolls his eyes at the comment, all in good fun. ❝ yup. i'm, uh, so well - versed in it, didn't even open the laptop to clear it out. ❞ all said while the dust on the laptop cover tells an entirely different story. as it hums to life, he presses the back of his hand to his temple – like added pressure could stop the pounding in his head. as an afterthought, he adds, ❝ password's marie three - one - two - six. ❞ ( small reminders of his late mother are constants throughout his daily life, if one was to look close enough. )

❝ sorry, freshly accepted i'm doomed to red creek livin' forever. the city suits you, though. ❞ a tired laugh escapes him. just 5 years ago, santi would've shrunk away from the thought. now, it's met with bittersweet acceptance. a life in red creek is— well, it's exactly what he deserves. a small sting ignites in his chest at mention of his own father's excitement. for all intents and purposes, kennedy was his child too. she probably saw his fatherly side more than santi ever would. ❝ noooo. just makin' sure they haven't roped you into a permanent residency of the guest bedroom or somethin'. ❞ he exhales sharply through his nose at the invitation, not quite in him to have a laugh over it. ❝ tell jon he can ask me himself. last i heard from him, i'm not welcome at the table. ❞

vikram’s mind hasn't stopped racing since the news of alaina price's body. there was too much to do. preparation to make, unwanted visitors to turn away, worried townspeople to ease. it wasn't just a death. it was a murder. a horrendously obvious act of violence that vikram somehow had cover up for the wake. but how do you make tragedy look presentable? a familiar voice echos down the hallway, pulling vikram from his pacing around the office to look up and meet pleading eyes. “oh! of course.” he’s quick to take the cup of coffee from greers hand, frantically looking around for a safe place to place it as if he didn't own the place and settling for an empty coffin left on its side that he has yet to bring to the main room storage room. it was next on his to-dos he swears! “wait— let me help.” he reaches for the smaller hand, fingers carefully prying open the clamped grip that threatens to tear dark locks out of greer's head. new target acquired, vikram can feel blair’s sticky fingers grab hold of his index and middle, keeping him locked by greer’s side. a chuckle escapes him then, as he leans slightly towards blair. “hi.” a whispered greeting, paired with a nervous smile as he playfully waves their tiny first. he turns to greer next, meeting the younger man's warm brown with tired, sleep-deprived black. “good morning, greer. it's really good to see you.” and he means it. "would you like some breakfast? i was about to whip myself up something." vikram doesn't have the stomach to eat yet but if greer and blair joined him then he would be more inclined to try.

𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱      :   greer    &    vikram    (  @brntout ) !

𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿:   6:43am.

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:  funeral home.

* ❪ ⛓️ ❫ ﹕ 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀   𝗻𝗼   𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴   𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸   𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁   𝗱𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀   which   of   the   rare   locations   the   world   has   to   offer   is   classified   as   inappropriate   for   children,   especially   those   in   redcreek   that   stay   stagnant.   save   for   the   trickle   of   new   industries   that   try   to   make   a   mark   in   the   rural   town.   unfortunately   for   the   one   of   them   today's   plus   one   isn't   nour,   despite   her   still   persistent   &   blunt   nature.  this morning's    guest   is   his   ten   month   old   niece.   chubby   hands   are   reaching   out   toward   greer's   face   as   they   walk   through   heavy   doors,   splintered   wood   creaking   underneath   them   as   he   tries   to   avoid   getting   his   eyes   poked   out.    ❛  i   know   baby. ❜     blair's   got   one   of   his   curls   now as she bounces in her chest carrier,   tugging   with   the   strength   that   most   toddlers   acquire:  the   brute   force   of   a   hundred  fucking  lions.   greer's   stifling   the   cuss   word   that   threatens   to   cross   his   tongue   by   simply   biting   it   &   letting   out   a   wince.    ❛  vik,   you   mind   takin'    this  while i get mauled for a sec ?  ❜    he   calls   out,   hoping   the   man   will   save   the   boiling   coffee   that   threatens   to   overspill   with   blair's   movements   &   singe   his   hand   to   bone.  an   added   bonus  ?   it   serves   as   this   morning's   gift   for  the   absolute   hell   he's   undoubtedly already   enduring   with   the   news.   greer   can   only   guess   the   diversity   of   company   that'll   be   searching   the   home   &   cemetery   an   equal   opportunity   to   sniff   out   the   investigation;   journalists,   wannabe   crime   sleuths,   police,   even   spunky   tourists   who   take   murder   scenes   as   fun   museum   tours.

Miller's Girl (2024)

PUSHING DAISIES 1x01 - Pie-lette

"hmm that you did." they muse, a smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "man, you always had the best stuff." she was discreet too, which was something kennedy always appreciated about nadia. they can't even imagine what trouble they would have gotten in if their parents had ever caught wind of all the times the two smoked beneath the school bleachers, giggling about whatever nonsense was relevant at the time. they were a match made in heaven. nadia needed their book smarts to pass class, kennedy needed her street smarts to make this godforsaken town remotely bearable. an unlikely duo, but a friendship that kennedy didn't realize how much they've missed until tonight. distance ihas a watt of testing relationships and kennedy, of all people, knew that all to well. despite the years apart they still felt a little corner of their heart reserved for nadia. they didn’t know how to navigate moments like this, though. they knew she wasn’t the type to look for sympathy and it didn't feel right to bash her parents when nadia still clearly held some attachment towards them. would kennedy feel the same if they were in nadia’s shoes?

so they don’t say anything. instead, offer a solemn nod. they are sure they will ponder this later, when their brain finally manages to come up with something remotely wise. the glamorized pictures that nadia paints of their job description are far more exciting than the reality that is a gray cubicle and the sound of typing filling the air like elevator music. a laugh breaks out at nadia’s anchor-like voice and they follow suit, unhooking their arm from nadia’s to sit up straighter, raising a fist to their lips as if it were a microphone. “thank you nadia, for the local hottie report. we cut back to announce that unfortunately for everyone back at home, the glamor will end the moment the liquor leaves your system. we recommend thinking twice before sending that ‘u up?’ text.” not exactly the type of reporting kennedy does, but definitely more amusing on a night like this. kennedy’s smile falters a little as they cheer once more, nadia’s words stirring something inside kennedy. something they don't particularly want to put a label to yet. the pause between them is brief, but heavy and it seems they are both happy to choke it down with the tequila rather than addressing the unspoken truth – that despite rekindling their friendship, the years have placed them on different paths, two worlds apart. “you wanna go dance?”

kennedy's reaction is exactly why nadia finds it as indulging to tease them about santi . nadia would be lying if she didn't inwardly cringe at it , too . her grin stays large and present on her face as the two laugh . she feels like a teenager again , which is only elevated at the mention of study guides . " did i not offer you weed and alcohol aplenty in return ? " she pretends to scoff , as if the exchange wasn't still WHOLLY UNFAIR to kennedy . " i wouldn't have passed any classes without those study guides . " nadia's grades were as abysmal as anything else that requires her to spend time on it .

the warm contact of their arm around her makes her smile , almost abashed , down at the floor . they're both not huggers , but there's familiarity there . " i hear from her every now and then . " nadia replies and hopes to god they leave it at that . her phone burns in her pocket , silent and abandoned . a reminder of how her parents view her generally . " i mean your duty in the same way the royals talk about their crown . " in a way , kennedy and their job is comparable to the monarchy . nadia offers them her sweetest smile and is pleased when it works when kennedy eases up . " a fluff piece , huh ? what will that constitute of ? the night was young , and the town people were hot . . " she fakes a news anchor tone . honestly , nadia can't remember the last time she read the register , but she'd be more prone to pick it up now if it meant supporting kennedy . nadia beams , all teeth , as she clinks her second shot glass against kennedy's . " cheers to us drinking together again . who woulda thought that would happen ? 22 year old us would refuse to believe it . " it's meant to be said in a positive way , but it sounds like a horrible REMINDER OF FAILURE even to nadia's ears . she busies herself with clinking the shot glass again , with more determination this time , and swiftly downing it .

salvador  emerges  from  the  heavy  back  doors,  both  hands  clutching  oversized  black  trash  bags  that  reek  of  grease  and  kitchen  waste.  the  shift  from  the  suffocating  heat  of  the  kitchen  to  the  sharp  chill  of  the  night  air  sends  a  shiver  up  his  spine,  making  him  painfully  aware  of  the  sweat  clinging  onto  his  brow.  he  exhales  sharply,  annoyed  that  his  hands  are  too  occupied  to  swipe  it  away.  then  his  gaze  lifts—and  locks  on  her.  henrietta  nivan.  the  woman  of  the  goddamn  hour.  salvador  had  clocked  the  moment  she  walked  into  the  diner,  could  hear  the  commotion  of  surprised  patrons  through  the  sizzling  of  the  stove  and  the  blaring  baseline  of  his  coworker's  shitty  playlist.  even  he  couldn't  resist  peering  through  the  ticket  window  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  as  she  left  the  diner.  she’s  back.  he  doesn't  expect  to  see  her  out  here  though.

her  greeting  is  quick  to  fill  the  silence  between  them  and  a  laugh  from  him  shortly  follows.  "please."  he  scoffs,  the  corner  of  his  lip  twitching  upwards  as  he  turns  away  from  her  to  finish  his  task  of  hauling  trash  over  a  grimey  commercial  garbage  can.  "nah,  hen.  no  kids."  none  that  he  knows  of  anyway.  he  shoots  a  sideways  glance  her  way,  full  of  feigned  expectancy.  "⏤  unless  you  have  news  for  me?"  the  last  bag  is  tossed  over  and  the  lid  is  closed  with  an  echoing  thud  against  the  metal.  he  wipes  his  hands  on  his  apron,  uses  his  forearm  to  finally  clear  his  forehead  before  stepping  back  towards  her.  “i’d  give  you  a  hug  but  i’d  hate  to  ruin  that  fancy  blouse  you  got  on.”  an  outfit  he  never  once  saw  her  wearing  if  he's  honest.  prim  and  proper  and  so  unlike  the  girl  he  remembers  fooling  around  with.  it  wasn't  a  bad  look.  just...  different.  “are  the  city  cops  after  you  for  raiding  hilary  clinton’s  closet  or  something?  that  why  you’re  back  in  town?”

ꜜ ﹙ 🪞  ﹚ ﹕ homecoming was its own specific kind of hell⸻ sat on the corner booth of dolly's, the cracked leather of the seat pinching at the back of her thigh with every shift. the clatter of forks & plates punctuated the low hum of conversation that seemed to crescendo with each passing minute, whispers and glances sliding off the walls and settling right on her shoulders as they finally recognized her. church friends of her parents, high school classmates who had never left town, people well-aware of the nivans name, all of them orbiting, pausing at her table with bright smiles and the mind-numbing idle chit-chat. do you remember me ? you've grown so tall now ! is that a wedding ring on your finger ? didn't think we'd see the day, hen ! fingers drummed against the chipped tabletop until the small talk finally clogged her throat, jaw finally hurting from her everlasting polite smile, appetite shriveling beneath all the tedium of smalltown reunions. henry excused herself to attend some imaginary business, throwing down enough money to cover the pancakes, lukewarm fires and watery cola ﹕ the door's bell shrilling her departure. but henry didn't get anywhere too far, the alley behind dolly's was cooler, quiet, gravel crunching underfoot as she leaned into the rough brick wall and reached for her lighter. that silence didn't really last very long however, smoke curling from her lips as she noticed the backdoor swing open ﹕ and there he was, salvador, an apron splattered with grease tied around his waist. “ so, ” hard stare pressing against him, lips slowly tugging into a smile, almost as if trying to formulate a theory on salvador's life during the last eight years she had been away. “ did you ever manage to knock someone up ? got all sorts of welcome, only thing that's really missing is someone telling me i'm the godmother of a child i haven't met. ” @brntout

High School Musical 2 2007 | dir. Kenny Ortega

❝𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝙼  𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,  𝙸  𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰  𝙼𝙰𝙽'𝚂  𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.  𝙳𝙾  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰𝙽𝚈  𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙰  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙳𝙾  𝚃𝙾  𝙼𝚈  𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺  𝚂𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂?❞

// (  destiny  ryan  .  non-binary.  she/they  )  . ⸻ KENNEDY  STUART  ,  a twenty eight year  old,  has  survived  another  day  in red  creek where  they  have  lived  for eighteen  years and  has  been  back  a  couple  of  months . THE  PRODIGY  is   known   for   being ambitious and calculative and  is  often  associated  with murmured  self-affirmations,  a  creeping  curiosity,  doing  whatever  it  takes  to  exceed  expectations,  picture  perfect  smiles,  pristine  trophies  on  full  display .  in   a   small   town   where   they   work   as a journalist at  the  register  and  an  author, word  travels  fast  .     it’s   hard   to   keep   a   secret   ,   and   it   looks   like   the   boogeyman  knows   that   [  REDACTED  ] 

𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂 | 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 | 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 | 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝚂 | 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

Ⅰ   .   .   .   𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂

full  name  : kennedy  noelle  stuart nicknames  : ken,  kenny age  : 28 birthday  : may  20 gender  : non-binary ( she  /  they ) sexual  orientation  : bisexual occupation  : investigative  journalist,  recently  turned  author fc  : ryan  destiny

Ⅱ   .   .   .   𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈

mother  :  suzanne  stuart  herrera father  :  marcus  stuart stepfather  :  jonathan   ‘jon'   herrera. step  sibling  :  santiago  herrera

Ⅲ   .   .   .   𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  tw:  mention  of  murder  &  religion

∗  kennedy  was  marcus  and  suzanne's  last-ditch  effort  to  stabilize  the  marriage  between  a  narcissist  and  a  small  town  primadonna.  the  attempt  lasted  for  a  few  years  on  and  off  which  resulted  kennedy  having  to  spend  their  early  years  alternating  between  two  homes ∗  kennedy  was  the  spitting  image  of  the  both  of  them  and  the  two  were  painfully  aware  of  it,  pushing  the  young  kid  to  be  the  best  version  of  themselves...  they  just  had  different  definitions  of  what  that  was. ∗  for  marcus,  it  was  a  sharp  mind.  days  with  him  usually  consisted  of  activities  that  involved  intellectual  improvement  -  playing  chess,  reading  books,  watching  documentaries.  as  for  suzanne,  she  preferred  more  physical  charms  -  sports  &  beauty  pageants  mostly. ∗  the  combination  resulted  in  a  kid  who's  learned  quickly  that  they  earn  most  praise  when  they  are  not  only  good  at  something...  but  better  than  expected.  a  mindset  eventually  turned  to  a  desire  at  being  the  best  in  whatever  they  set  out  to  be. ∗  in  2006  suzanne  started  seeing  a  local  man  named  jon  hererra  and  before  kennedy  had  a  chance  to  process  their  mother's  new  relationship,  they  were  asked  to  pack  their  bags  to  move  in  with  this  stranger  and  his  son,  santiago  herrera. ∗  while  kennedy's  father  was  still  in  their  life,  it  was  apparent  that  he  had  decided  to  take  a  step  back  (  no  doubt  betrayed  by  how  quickly  his  former  wife  moved  on  )  and  began  only  taking  kennedy  on  the  weekends. ∗ life  with  the  herrera's  was  different.  suzanne  had  taken  to  bragging  about  her  child's  achievements.  an  energy  that  their  stepfather  quickly  matched  .  he  became  invested  in  advancing  kennedy's  talents,  perhaps  hoping  that  their  excellence  would  rub  on  on  his  son. ∗  unfortunately,  kennedy  had  a  hard  time  relating  to  santiago.  perhaps  it  was  the  age  difference  or  the  resentment  in  their  parent's  union.  whatever  the  reason,  it  made  building  a  healthy  relationship  difficult. ∗ kennedy  tended  to  focus  on  their  academic  pursuits  instead.  editor  of  the  newspaper,  head  of  the  speech  and  debate  team,  goalie  of  the  girl's  soccer  team...  they  had  their  hands  full!  eventually  they  graduate  with  honors  and  got  accepted  at  NYU  on  a  full  ride  to  become  an  investigative  journalist. ∗  after  college,  they  booked  a  job  at  the  new  york  times  amd  became  a  travelling  journalist,  moving  from  country  to  country  to  write  pieces  about  whatever  was  relevant. ∗  during  their  travels  they  came  across  an  interesting  case  that  was  ongoing  in  italy.  there  was  a  unexpected  string  of  murders  happening  in  a  small  countryside  town  and  with  the  help  of  the  local  police  department,  it  was  determined  that  the  local  catholic  priest  was  poisoning  the  offerings  during  their  mass  and  would  either  pretend  to  heal  them  with  the  power  of  God  or  let  them  die. ∗   the  article  kennedy  wrote  didnt  garner  much  attention  but  they  were  so  invested  in  the  story  they  decided  to  write  a  book  about  it  named  'death  at  the  altar'  and  lo  and  behold  -  it  became  a  best  seller! ∗  it  was  such  a  hit  that  kennedy  had  to  take  a  break  from  their  journalistic  endeavors  to  go  on  a  book  tour.  as  exciting  as  it  was,  kennedy  found  it  awfully  tiresome. ∗  after  some  thought  and  some  nudging  from  their  mother  &  step-father,  kennedy  decided  to  take  a  break  from  it  all  and  move  back  home.  they  took  up  a  job  at  the  local  newspaper  because  they  figured  it  would  be  easy.  some  fluff  pieces  here  and  there  while  they  focus  on  their  next  big  hit.  it's  red  creek,  michigan  after  all.  nothing  ever  happens  here.

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈   : a  smart  kid  who  watched  their  parents  divorce  and  was  forced  to  join  another  family  along  with  her  outrageous  mother.  left  town  as  soon  as  she  could  but  recently  decided  to  move  back  home  after  writing  a  best  selling  true  crime  novel  named  'death  at  the  altar'.

Ⅳ   .   .   .   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂  -  all  connections  are  open  to  any  gender  unless  specified  otherwise.

wc  pinterest | wc  tag

Ⅴ   .   .   .   𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

＋clever  ＋analytical  ＋curious －unsympathetic  －stubborn  －judgmental mbti  : ESFJ natal  chart  : capricorn, ⊙ taurus, ☾ cancer inspired  by  : gale  weathers ( scream   ),  nancy  wheeler ( stranger  things ),  monica  geller ( friends )

I can’t.

Grey’s anatomy - 19x06 - Thunderstruck