[ there are all those times he's trusted scott over him - and little things, too, little comments that have gotten under his skin because his dad said them like they were right, even when they weren't. stiles wets his lips and considers keeping his mouth shut on a couple of things, too, but - well, venting about his dad who he loves very much is a little different to venting about a parasitic murder alien, so stiles pushes past the flutter of embarrassment and just makes himself open up a little bit. ]
I love him. I do. He's an amazing dad. But. He thinks he's right when he's not. I've gotta convince him to listen to me, sometimes. He thinks he knows me more than I know myself? Not on little things, either, like - assuming things about me based on my clothes, or thinking I've screwed something up because I just so happen to have a very long and very intensive history of screwing certain things up - I'm talking big things. He'll listen to my friends over me, or... assume I'm lying when I'm not. And, like, I get it? I'm kind of a handful, I know that. But it took a while for us to connect after my mom died. Mom was kind of the glue holding the three of us together, I think. Dad worked and mom looked after me, so with her gone the house got pretty empty. And. Yeah. Wow. Downer.
[ it's not until stiles has sent this shit that he feels sort of stupid and small for doing it, but it's out there and he feels awkward about the prospect of just seamlessly talking about billy's brothers again like he didn't dump weird personal shit about him and his dad on this guy for no reason. no reason other than the fact that this kind of thing has been on his mind, ever since the dementia hit, and he hasn't really had anyone to talk to about it. he feels like he's overshared, though, so his skin's crawling a bit. ugh. ]
no subject
[ there are all those times he's trusted scott over him - and little things, too, little comments that have gotten under his skin because his dad said them like they were right, even when they weren't. stiles wets his lips and considers keeping his mouth shut on a couple of things, too, but - well, venting about his dad who he loves very much is a little different to venting about a parasitic murder alien, so stiles pushes past the flutter of embarrassment and just makes himself open up a little bit. ]
I love him. I do. He's an amazing dad. But.
He thinks he's right when he's not. I've gotta convince him to listen to me, sometimes.
He thinks he knows me more than I know myself? Not on little things, either, like - assuming things about me based on my clothes, or thinking I've screwed something up because I just so happen to have a very long and very intensive history of screwing certain things up -
I'm talking big things. He'll listen to my friends over me, or... assume I'm lying when I'm not.
And, like, I get it? I'm kind of a handful, I know that.
But it took a while for us to connect after my mom died. Mom was kind of the glue holding the three of us together, I think. Dad worked and mom looked after me, so with her gone the house got pretty empty.
And. Yeah.
Wow. Downer.
[ it's not until stiles has sent this shit that he feels sort of stupid and small for doing it, but it's out there and he feels awkward about the prospect of just seamlessly talking about billy's brothers again like he didn't dump weird personal shit about him and his dad on this guy for no reason. no reason other than the fact that this kind of thing has been on his mind, ever since the dementia hit, and he hasn't really had anyone to talk to about it. he feels like he's overshared, though, so his skin's crawling a bit. ugh. ]
Eesh. Sorry.