one with a tone so flat he sounds dead serious with every word he says even though he’s actually a pretty funny guy, and the other who can’t read tone for shit!!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
every marriage is tested
Sam tries to ignore his declining marriage.
chapter twenty-five of my alice + ted + melissa + ruth focused theatre fic has been posted! go check it out!
read from the beginning here | part two of hey ted, hey melissa!
summary:
In a last-ditch attempt to save the Starlight Theater from shutting down, Alice Woodward puts on her new musical, The Trail to Oregon, with the help of Professor Hidgens. Now she's juggling rehearsals on top of her relationship with Deb, her struggles with her dad, and a cast that has plenty of their own problems...
Ted Spankoffski is attempting to get back into theatre, manage his feelings for Charlotte Sweetly, and not strangle the oddly-friendly Sam in the process. Meanwhile, Zach and Zoey Chambers are out for blood, and Melissa is trying to prevent her younger siblings from killing each other—or getting caught in the crossfire. And Ruth Fleming is hoping to conquer her anxiety and finally fulfill her dream of performing onstage.
"Some of that we did, but most we didn't" (A Bill-centric TGWDLM ficlet)
"Some of that we did, but most we didn't" | Teen | 1.1K | Read here (or below the cut)
He had to accept that teenage girls just didn’t want to hang out with their fathers anymore. She grew out of him when she grew up and slipped right through his fingers; it was his fault.
Bill wasn’t a perfect person by any means, not even close. He was hardly the perfect husband, perfect father, either—despite all his trying, and boy, did he try—he certainly didn’t live without regrets, but his biggest one was, and would be, the fractured relationship with his daughter. Not his failed marriage, which gave him Alice, or the job he hated, but took to support his family—and of course there was Paul and Charlotte, even Ted—but his sweet baby girl. She was old enough now to make her own choices, had her own life, Bill didn’t even blame her for that—he was young and stupid once, hell, had a kid when he was basically one himself—but damn did he miss her.
It was lonely in the house without her, void of life and vibrancy and laughter as it once was. With his ex-wife over in Clivesdale, and getting Alice only one weekend a month, it was just him, haunting his home like a lone specter. Besides, even when she was here, she spent most of that time with her girlfriend, Deb. He had to accept that teenage girls just didn’t want to hang out with their fathers anymore. She grew out of him when she grew up and slipped right through his fingers; it was his fault.
The problem was that, even when she wasn’t here, physically with him, there were remnants of her all around the place, things that reminded Bill of Alice, of when she was little—before she decided dad was the enemy—and of the chasm-like distance between them now, both literally and figuratively. It hurt, every now and again, ever the festering wound, to recall how close they once were. Bill loved his kid with every fiber of his being, so much so that it ached, and only he was to blame for the way they were now—he knew that, of course he did. And everything he did, in a helpless attempt to salvage what was left of their relationship, seemed to have the exact opposite effect, driving them further apart, leaving him wondering where all the time had gone.
He dyed his hair, purple of all colors, all grown out to the roots now, but Alice had picked it out for him, so he didn’t have it in him to complain. She’d been so excited when he suggested it, offered to do it for him, even, and how could he refuse? It matched the streaks of pink she had then, and to see her light up with glee, well, Bill would’ve probably done anything she asked to get that look back on her face. They’d gone out to get the materials and did it that night when they’d gotten back home. He could remember looking at his reflection in the mirror that night, feeling nothing but pride for his kid, and how he could hardly recognize himself. She’d done so well, and he actually ended up liking it so much, he’d kept it. And the fact the color isn’t as vibrant as when it was freshly done, now serves as an ironically poetic representation of what their relationship is like now. He both loves and hates it—just a little.
Or how he always put his own personal feelings about Deb aside—because if was being honest, he really didn’t like her—and invited his daughter’s girlfriend on their father/daughter outings, even though it meant they couldn’t do everything Bill actually wanted to do, in order for whatever activity he had planned that day to be fully accessible for her. Which, of course, only aided in pushing her further away from him by ultimately ‘giving Alice permission’ to abandon hanging out with her father in favor of spending that time with Deb instead. He tended to not do this as often, they both knew why, and maybe Alice resented him for it. He still wouldn’t blame her for it, either.
She even had her own room here, still set up, waiting for her to return, much like himself. Bill would often stop by, never crossing the threshold—as if it would somehow invade her privacy, even when she wasn’t there; she had enough reasons to hate him already—and stand outside the door, like it was some impenetrable barrier. He did have the occasional moment of weakness, where he’d dare to step through the doorway, and into the darkness of the cold, empty room. Except, it wasn’t totally dark. There was a dim glow emanating from the ceiling, where an array of made-up constellations of glow-in-the-dark stars were placed, which might have been the one thing that withstood the test of time. Bill could remember with vivid clarity the day they went out and bought them. Both he and Alice had this annual ritual of going out one day in the year to stargaze. They’d stay out all night, and just look up at the sky, pointing out groupings of stars and making up stories about them, since Bill didn’t know anything about astronomy. It was one of his favorite things to do with his daughter. But one year, on the day they’d chosen to go out, it had been raining, the sky overcast with dark clouds. Alice was heartbroken at the idea that they might have to cancel their tradition, so Bill ran out to the store and came back with the glow stars. That night, they’d worked together to stick them to her bedroom ceiling, and, with the lights off—much like they were now—they laid down on her bedroom floor and stargazed with them instead. It was breaching into early morning when Bill had noticed Alice grow quiet, only to find that she had fallen asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. That image was permanently etched into his brain, though it didn’t bring the same comfort to him as it once did, now.
And perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, in terms of self-care, but on days like today, when Bill was feeling particularly lonely, and Alice’s absence was loud and suffocating? Those moments of weakness would not only have him entering her room, but lying in that same spot on the floor, and looking up at the glowing ceiling stars all by himself. They were probably the only thing that stood the test of time. Except, as Bill lay there, staring up at their handmade night sky, alone, there were two stars, singled out from the rest of them, one big and one small—Bill and Alice—he noticed the smaller one starting to peel off. He stared and stared at it, unable to look away, until finally, somehow, someway that Bill couldn’t explain, it fell. Like the universe had something to say, and, with a heartbreaking finality, said it, giving Bill his answer.
He swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat, a single tear escaping and trailing down his cheek. The empty, now vacated space beside the Bill-star was enough of a sign for Bill to get the message, and for his heart to break all that much more.
AN: I know I’m already behind, but I’m still gonna go back & post the fics I didn’t get to yet, but this on was actually finished & ready to go today, so hopefully I can have some time to catch up! Wiggly is simultaneously terrifying & silly, & that’s what we love about him! Hope you enjoy this fic with him & President Howie!
President Howard Goodman would do anything if it meant saving his country. He just never thought that would mean traveling to another dimension...
He took a deep, shaky breath inside the spacesuit, flashing the general a smile. McNamara smiled back, sending him off with a salute.
He saluted back before stepping through the portal.
~~~
Empty. That's what this place was. That's how it made him feel; a hollow, sinking feeling that grew from the pit of his stomach. It gnawed at him from the inside out.
He stood in a pitch black void, no indication of where to go.
"Hello? Hello?" he called out, voice echoing back at him. When he didn't receive an answer, he continued. "My name is Howard Goodman, I'm president of the United States of America... Earth?" he introduced, adding on for clarification.
Suddenly, he was doused in a bright light, and he froze where he stood. He shielded his eyes and looked up, coming face to face with the eldritch abomination himself.
"Hello, Mr. Prezzy-wez. Welcome to Drowzy Town." The voice was deceptively friendly, sending goosebumps down his spine.
"I-it's you..." he said, a mix of fear and awe. He was the one they had warned him about. Wiggog Y'Wrath. Strangely enough, he did look like the fluffy doll. Just a lot bigger, and a lot more terrifying.
"Don't be frightened. You're my bestest buddy-wub!"
Howie shook his head, gathering his strength as he shouted, "No, No! I've come to tell you… to leave us alone!"
He was met with a playful, bouncing chuckle as it mocked him.
"Leave? Just before Christmas? It's going to be my birthday, y'know. I wouldn't want to miss out on opening all my presents."
A tentacle wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up closer to its face. He yelped as the it grabbed him, squirming and shoving uselessly.
"I think I'll start with you," it prodded him as he spoke, poking him in the chest as more tentacles slithered and wrapped around him. "I'm going to cut open your belly-well, and deeeck the haaalls with your gutsy-wutsies!" With each threat, the tentacles writhed over his stomach, drilling and pinching.
Howie yelped and jerked away from the first touches before controlling his reactions, but it was too late. Wiggly had already noticed, and a wide grin stretched beneath the tentacles.
"Well well well, what do we have here? You wouldn't happen to be ticklish, would you Mr. Prezzy-wez?" As he asked the question, a tentacle wrapped around his waist, tracing back and forth across his stomach. Howie flinched and bit his lip, shoving at offending appendage.
"Now we can't have that," Wiggly scolded playfully, sending more tentacles to grab his arms and legs, holding him suspended in the inky abyss.
"H-hey! What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, fighting back with all his strength. The giant being cocked its head at him mockingly.
"I told you. I'm going to split you at the seams," it taunted, his voice slipping in and out of a friendly facade. "One way, or another."
"Noho! Y-you cahahan't!" he pleaded, the first giggles slipping out as more tentacles began exploring his body. They slithered down his arms, nuzzling deep into his exposed pits. Two more did the same to the back of his knees, drawing out a few startled snorts.
God, even through the spacesuit, this was torture.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want! Who are you to tell a God what to do?" he scolded, shaking the president's body like a rag doll.
"You're right! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Howie immediately apologized, eyes squeezed shut out of fear.
"That's more like it," Wiggly hummed in satisfaction, loosening his grip ever so slightly. Not enough to let him go, but just enough to make him more comfortable.
"Can't we talk this over like civilized men? I-I mean, what can I do to get you to leave us alone? No more Wiggly dolls, no more riots, no nothing!" Howie spoke diplomatically, getting back to the task at hand.
"Hm, now that's a big favor. You'd have to make it worth my while to give it all up..."
"I'm the president! Whatever you want, I can make it happen!" he insisted, not even knowing what he just got himself into.
Wiggly let out a cruel giggle, lifting him up higher to meet his gaze. Howie tensed, leaning back as far as he could, though he remained trapped.
A sinister grin slowly stretched across the eldritch god's face. "Oh how very generous! I can't think of anything I want more than to play with my new friendy-wend!"
Howie's brows shot up to his hairline in surprise. "Wow, uh, r-really? You aren't interested in, like, money or power, or anything like that?" he asked, somewhat skeptical.
"It's always about money with you humans," Wiggly scoffed, disgust lacing his voice. "And any so called power you could grant is trivial in comparison to what I can do," he explained. "So yes; I think playing with my new toy will do just fine."
Something in his voice set Howie on edge as a chill ran down his spine. "Y-your new toy? But I thought you didn't want anything," he questioned, earning another sadistic, mocking chuckle.
"Nothing you could offer," Wiggly scoffed, "But I never said my cooperation didn't have a price. And we were having so much fun together already!" he cooed condescendingly. His tentacles continued their exploration, seeking out his most sensitive spots beneath the spacesuit.
"Wahahait! T-thahat's nohohot exactly what I hahad in MIIIND!" his dignified protest dissolved into a squeal when he felt something smooth and cold slip inside his boot. He kicked frantically, but he couldn't dislodge the feeling.
"Really? And what did you have in mind?" Wiggly asked smugly.
"I-I don't knohohow! But not thihihis!" he whined, embarrassment settling in the pit of his stomach.
"What a shame,"Wiggly taunted, keeping a bored, neutral tone even as he continued his ticklish torment. "For you. As for me, this couldn't have gone better!" To emphasize his point, he squeezed and kneaded his sides, earning a shrill shriek in return.
Howie twisted in his hold, but he was unable to get any leverage from his suspended position. His limbs scrambled for purchase in the air, occasionally bumping into an offending tentacle.
"Ah ah ah," Wiggly chastised playfully as he restrained his flailing arms and kicking legs.
"NOHO! C'mohohon, behe reheheasonable hehere!" he pleaded, trying his best to fight back.
"Considering how fucking easily I could eviscerate you, I'd say I'm being more than reasonable! So if I were you, I'd stop being ungrateful, and start begging," he threatened as more slithering tentacles descended. They quickly doubled in numbers, launching Howie into hysterics.
"IHIHI'M SOHOHORRY! I-I DIDN'T MEAN IHIHIT!" he screamed, a shrill squeal forcing its way out when another tentacle managed to slip inside the space suit, wiggling across his bare belly.
"You really ought to think before you speak," Wiggly mocked, thoroughly enjoying every second of the mortal's torment. Then again, he enjoyed every second of any human suffering. He wasn't very picky when suffering was involved.
"PLEHE-PLEHEHEASE!" he cried out desperately, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "IHI CAHAN'T TAKE IHIHIT!"
Wiggly cocked his massive head as he stared down at his captive, a sinister glee shining in his eyes. "That's too bad. Because you’ll be here for a long, long time.”
