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luminouslumity · 2 years

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So I'm finally writing fanfiction again! I've actually been trying to work on this one for months now and I think I'm finally satisfied with the result!

From the moment they met, Sun Wukong had always taken Tang Sanzang to be nothing but a fool, but he hadn't expected for the same to apply to the others as well. In hindsight, perhaps he should've—unlike himself, they'd all always been far too in awe of the so-called Great Monk to ever disagree with him on anything, Zhu Bajie especially.

"I still say you're making a mistake!" said the Monkey King after they'd left the Lady Bone Demon alone in her prison, her punishment for nearly destroying the entire world! He knew killing was against the teachings of Buddha, but couldn't they have made an exception just this once? She already had a tomb and everything, after all! Might as well finish what they'd started, right?

In response, the Tang Monk sighed and muttered something—likely an insult—before turning to his túdì. "Don't you trust my judgement, Sun-xíngzhě?"

"Absolutely not!"

This earned him a glare from the human while he heard Zhu Bajie snort. "Maybe it's about time you had more faith in our shīfu," the pig demon said as he too glared at the Monkey King.

Sun Wukong scowled; he wasn't surprised by Zhu Bajie's reaction, but it certainly made him feel no less annoyed. How is it that I'm being the voice of reason here? "Well, Dāizi, maybe you should—"

"Enough, Sun Wukong!" Tang Sanzang had stepped in between the two demons, but then he shielded Zhu Bajie after facing Monkey completely. "My decision is final! Besides," he added, glancing at Sha Wujing and Ao Lie, who both stood a little aways from the rest of the group while they spoke to the Empress Dowager Liu Ming, "your shīdì have already agreed that imprisoning her was for the best. So why can't you do the same?"

Sun Wukong gritted his teeth. He hated it whenever the monk got like this, always asking why he couldn't be more quiet like Ao Lie or more patient like Sha Wujing. He'd never say such things to Bajie! It was clear who the favorite was, however little sense it made.

"I'm sorry, Shīfu." The words tasted bitter on the Monkey King's tongue. "Please forgive this foolish disciple for merely concerning himself with the fate of the Mortal Realm." He gave a mocking bow and was about to walk away, until he saw the Empress Dowager heading towards them.

"Bìxià." Tang Sanzang bowed to the regent and both Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie followed his lead.

"Lǎoyé." She returned the gesture before continuing, and despite the mourning period, she smiled. "I was just telling your túdì how I wished to hold a banquet in your honor."

"A banquet?" This got Sun Wukong's attention immediately. At last, some recognition! Well, more recognition, anyway. And how could anyone say no to free food? Yet he looked at the monk with large, pleading eyes anyway; it was an irritating inconvenience that he practically had to get a human's permission to do anything at all these days, but between this and being trapped under a mountain, he knew which one he preferred.

He was pleased to see Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing doing the same, though Lie—even in his human-like form—maintained his usual stoic expression. So that probably meant he was interested too, right? It was always hard to tell with him.

Tang Sanzang, however, looked reluctant. "Would such a thing be appropriate? What with you being in mourning and all. I'd hate for us to take any attention away from the recently deceased."

Somehow, Sun Wukong was able to suppress a growl. So this was how someone could say no to free food. But then Liu Ming laughed and this made him relax.

"I wouldn't be offering if I wasn't sure, Tang-lǎoyé," she said. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I assure you it's fine, at least for today. You're leaving tomorrow, aren't you? And it'd be a small feast anyway."

"Hm. Well..." The Tang Monk paused and glanced at his túdì. At Sun Wukong specifically.

Does he think I'm going to do something? How unfair! He'd been on his best behavior for weeks now!

But then the monk smiled. Turning to the Empress Dowager again, he said, "That would be lovely. Er, so long as the food is vegetarian, though!"

"But of course!" came her reply, sounding pleased and looking amused. "You and your túdì are not the first Buddhists to pass through Bāoxiāng, Tang-lǎoyé. In the meantime, please feel free to explore the palace grounds. The banquet will be held tonight."

"Xièxie," said Tang Sanzang as they all exchanged respectful bows before the Empress Dowager left.

Explore, huh? Sun Wukong felt giddy at just the thought of it. It was only his favorite thing to do, after all! And with a kingdom as beautiful as Bāoxiāng—with its jade thresholds and golden steps—surely he'd be able to find some magnificent treasures he could... secretly borrow. Permanently, of course.

But then he heard Ao Lie call for him. "Dà-shīxiōng!"

Oh, don't tell me! If the dragon prince had initiated a conversation, then that usually meant one thing.

Sure enough, the Monkey King turned his head in time to see his shīfu unrolling a scroll as the monk made his way towards a tree, with Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing following close behind like ducklings.

"Come along, now," Ao Lie prompted, resting a hand on the stone monkey's shoulder. "If you don't, then you will only get lectured later."

Sun Wukong groaned at this, though he knew his shīdì was right. "But I hate the readings!" the Great Sage whined. Or maybe he just hated it when Tang Sanzang read them. He couldn't recall ever having this problem when he'd trained under Subodhi.

"I know." The dragon didn't sound very sympathetic.

Traitor. Sun Wukong sighed. He could handle a reading for today, right? And besides, there would be plenty more kingdoms to explore later! Just gotta think positive! "Okay." He began to walk towards the others with Ao Lie, and as he did so, he grinned at the dragon prince and said, "But you have to let me braid your hair while we listen!"

A small cloud of mist appeared after the dragon snorted. "How many times must I tell you, I am not an actual horse!"

*********************************************

Had it not been for the calming effects that came from braiding Ao Lie's hair, Sun Wukong probably would've strangled Tang Sanzang long before the reading had been over. Today's lesson had been on repentance, and the intention couldn't have been more obvious! Why not just recruit the witch while you're at it! the Monkey King had thought when the monk finally finished.

By then, the time for the banquet finally came, and knowing this made Sun Wukong feel a little better as he and the others made their way through the sea of white and towards the Banquet Hall. The Empress Dowager was already there when they'd arrived and beside her was a younger-looking woman.

"This is Wen-fēi," Liu Ming explained as the woman beside her bowed.

"The mother of our future emperor!" There was a proud look in Wen-fēi's eyes as she said this. "And might I say, what an honor it is to be in the presence of such heroes!"

"The honor is all ours," Tang Sanzang replied. "We're just doing what we can to help."

Or make things worse, Sun Wukong thought bitterly.

"And we appreciate it!" The Empress Dowager said quickly. "Now please, let's all take our seats before everything gets cold." As soon as everyone did, she held a cup in her hand and continued. "But first, a toast to our saviors. May they fare well on the rest of their journey and live ten thousand years!" Unlike earlier, there was somberness in her voice.

"And may the kingdom of Bāoxiāng prosper for ten thousand more!" replied Tang Sanzang, smiling with what appeared to be pity.

"Gānbēi!"

It was no problem for Sun Wukong to drink the wine in a single gulp, his previous frustration nearly completely forgotten. Why let his mood be soured when the mortals were showing such gracious (and delicious) hospitality? Seeing a bowl of peaches just near him, he was about to grab one, until he felt a kick to his leg.

"Not until our host has given permission!" Tang Sanzang said in a harsh whisper.

Sun Wukong glared at the monk, which must've been noticed by Liu Ming, as the Empress Dowager then said, "Please, help yourselves!"

The Monkey King did, ignoring the glance Tang Sanzang was giving him. Smug bastard! Sometimes he hated seniority seating; if it were up to him, he'd sit in between Sha Wujing and Ao Lie, the ones who would never judge him for wanting to do things just a little bit differently every now and then.

"Jiějie," came Wen-fēi's voice, snapping Sun Wukong out of his thoughts. "Will you not drink more wine? Why, you've barely even taken a sip!"

Liu Ming regarded the other woman with a look of clear contempt and she replied, "I will not, Wen-fēi. But if you don't wish for the drink to go to waste, you are more than welcome to have it yourself."

Wen-fēi suddenly looked uncomfortable then, but a servant entered the Banquet Hall before she could reply.

"I apologize for the interruption, Bìxià, Wen-fēi," she said, bowing. "But Diànxià is asking for his—"

"Whatever it is, can't one of the servants handle it?" Wen-fēi sounded irritated.

"They've tried," the servant replied. "But he keeps crying."

Wen-fēi simply gave a deep sigh and rushed out of the Banquet Hall without so much as a bow.

Liu Ming, however, seemed relieved. "Thank you, A-Qing. And please, place this in my bedchambers." She held out her cup. "But make sure no one sees you. Otherwise, that will be all."

The servant seemed just as confused as Sun Wukong felt, but she took the cup from the Empress Dowager anyway, bowed, and left.

"What was that about?" asked the Monkey King.

"Oh, just that my cup was poisoned—just mine, though, so none of you need to worry." Her tone was so casual that she might as well have been talking about the weather.

This didn't stop Sun Wukong from looking at Tang Sanzang with concern while the others pushed their own drinks away. The monk looked pale, but that was likely due to shock more than anything. "Do you feel well, Shīfu?" he asked regardless, his voice urgent. "Shall I go look for medicine?"

"I-I feel fine, Sun-xíngzhě," he replied. The others nodded as well when Sun Wukong looked at them for confirmation, though this clearly didn't do much to lessen the tension.

"You seem far too calm for someone who's just been through an assassination attempt!" said Zhu Bajie. "Two if we count the Lady Bone Demon!"

Liu Ming continued to give off an unconcerned look. "Five, actually."

"Five!?"

"Wen Fan has made it no secret that she wishes to be named empress in my stead," Liu Ming continued. "My husband wasn't one to turn any peerless beauty away and we made a brief alliance when Ivory—er, Lady Bone Demon—arrived, but now that she's gone, things have quickly gone back to normal."

"Er, normal?" said Sha Wujing.

"I can understand." Ao Lie ate a bit of rice before continuing. "I've just about lost count of how many times someone has tried to harm my family." Once again, the tone was casual.

"I'm so glad I remained a monk," Tang Sanzang whispered and Sun Wukong patted his shīfu's shoulder in comfort. The Monkey King had been no stranger to attempts on his life, either, but he couldn't remember ever being as calm about it as Ao Lie and Liu Ming were now. Dealing with demons seemed much easier than having to put up with courtly politics.

"Do you have any children of your own, Bìxià?" Ao Lie asked the Empress Dowager. Both seemed oblivious to the discomfort in the room.

"Three," Liu Ming replied at once. "Only daughters. Two have already been married off, but the third... my little Baihua..." Her voice cracked a bit. "She was meant to be my husband's heir since I couldn't give him a son, but she disappeared thirteen years ago and there's been no trace of her since!"

"My condolences," Tang Sanzang said, his eyes filled with pity. "Should we find your daughter as we proceed with our journey tomorrow, we'll be sure to let you know."

Liu Ming blinked back tears and nodded gratefully.

"Do you think Wen-fēi had something to do with it?" Ao Lie asked.

She shook her head. "She joined us only five years ago. And for all her... ambitions, waiting that long to make herself known would be unlike her."

"Well, that's comforting," Sun Wukong said sarcastically.

"In any case, I plan to address her treason to the council tomorrow." After taking a bite out of a peach, she added, "The cup should be more than enough evidence to finally get her arrested. Then her son, Zhao Jin, will come under only my care until he comes of age."

There it was, that feeling of discomfort again. How was any of this considered normal? I'm lucky my little ones are loyal, Sun Wukong thought, a familiar ache in his heart. How much longer would it be before he could return home? If he ever returned home.

"Do you need protection until tomorrow, Bìxià?" Sha Wujing asked.

The Empress Dowager looked grateful despite the shake of her head. "Xièxie, but I assure you, that's not necessary. I wouldn't still be alive if I didn't already know how to fend for myself." But then she frowned and asked, "But speaking of threats, are you sure imprisoning the Lady Bone Demon was the right idea, lǎoyé? What if she escapes?"

"I assure you, she won't," Tang Sanzang replied gently. "And even if she does break free, it will only be after she's reflected on her actions."

"Which she won't!" Sun Wukong protested, his anger returning. Enough of this! He knew he probably should've held back in front of the Empress Dowager, but he couldn't just sit by as the monk gave this mortal false hope, could he? "We all know she won't. And anyway, her ally is still out there, remember?"

"Sun Wukong—"

The Monkey King interrupted the monk. "She tried to destroy the world, Tang Seng! And she very well would've succeeded if we hadn't shown up to stop her in time! How dare you grant her leniency!"

"How dare I?"

"So you admit the punishment was too light, then! Really, Shīfu, I can't believe you'd be so naive!" Sun Wukong was only barely aware of the shuffling of chairs and Zhu Bajie's glare, barely aware of everyone but himself and Tang Sanzang leaving the Banquet Hall.

This obvious attempt to avoid being witness to a potential fight, however, proved to be unnecessary. Because instead of staying to argue, the Tang Monk simply walked away from Sun Wukong as well. The Monkey King didn't try to stop him.

*********************************************

As a monkey demon made of stone, Sun Wukong didn't need sleep. But even if he did, he knew he wouldn't have been able to anyway. Instead, the Monkey King sat upon a cloud just outside the palace and glared in the direction of the Lady Bone Demon's tomb. Remake the world. Huh! The more he thought about it, the more he realized her desires hadn't been so different from Buddha's teachings. Nirvāṇa and all that. Perhaps that was why Tang Sanzang had decided to show her mercy.

Dāizi! That was the problem with mortals—if they weren't fighting amongst themselves, they became far too trusting for their own good. And then I have to be the one to clean everything up! Not that he minded fighting demons, of course, but was a little backbone from the monk too much to ask for? Maybe then he'd stop getting kidnapped all the time!

Tang Sanzang had been wrong about many things and he was wrong about this, too! The Lady Bone Demon didn't deserve imprisonment, she deserved death! I should've just—

He gasped. Of course! The solution was so obvious! Oh, the monk would be furious, certainly, but what did it matter what he thought? And so what if it would be considered dishonorable to attack an enemy already bound? Someone had to make sure the Lady Bone Demon didn't cause trouble again. He'll thank me for this later. Staff in hand, he began to travel towards the tomb.

Or he would've, had it not been for the chanting. The painfully familiar chanting. "Ahhh!" Sun Wukong keeled over until he fell off his cloud and clutched his head. He then proceeded to scratch at the fillet, though he knew how futile it would be. "Make it stop, make it stop! I'll behave! I promise!" Why had the Bodhisattva of Mercy given the so-called Great Monk such a cruel method to keep him under control?

It took a few seconds, but at last, the chanting—and therefore, the agony—subsided. And he knew this would only happen again, unless, of course, he left the group entirely. It was something he'd thought about so many times now. But Tang Sanzang would never allow that, surely?

"Here." The monk handed him a piece of paper, which Sun Wukong quickly read over.

"Banishment!?" The Monkey King stared at Tang Sanzang, feeling more shocked than angry.

"I wrote it not long after we set out for our journey," Tang Sanzang explained. "I didn't think I'd actually need it, but..." He briefly glanced in the direction of the tomb. "You were right about one thing, Sun Wukong. Not everyone can change. And that seems to include you."

"That's not fair!" Sun Wukong growled and glared at the monk.

"Were you or were you not about to destroy the tomb?"

"I was!" What did he have to be ashamed of?

"Then you tried to disobey my orders."

"Shīfu." Sun Wukong hadn't even noticed the others until Sha Wujing spoke. "Is this really necessary? Wasn't Sun-shīxiōng just trying to do what he thought was right?"

Even Zhu Bajie and Ao Lie seemed to agree with him, with both giving slow nods.

Tang Sanzang sighed, but he kept his face fixed on Sun Wukong. "Do you even wish to stay with us, Sun-xíngzhě?"

Sun Wukong clutched his staff in one hand and crumpled the letter of banishment in the other. "I've made it no secret that I wish to go home, Shīfu."

For the first time, there was no anger or irritation in Tang Sanzang's gaze. Only disappointment. Why did that make him feel worse? "Then gàobié, Sun Wukong. And so help me, if I ever consent to see you again, let me fall into the Avīci Hell!" With that, the monk bowed and then turned away. Zhu Bajie gave Sun Wukong a brief glance and followed after him. Neither gave any sign that they would be returning.

"I-I'm sure Shīfu didn't mean it, A-Kong," said Sha Wujing, glancing slightly downwards and twiddling his fingers while doing so.

"It's likely he'll forget all about this in the morning," Ao Lie added. "You know how Buddhists are. He won't stay angry with you for long."

Sun Wukong gave a mirthless laugh. He wished he had their optimism. "You heard what he said," the monkey demon replied. "He'd much rather go to Hell than see me again! So really, I'm doing both of us a favor." He got on his cloud again, his chest tightening. A side effect from the Tight-Fillet Spell, he told himself. "But you two are welcome to visit Huāguǒshān any time you like. Until then, good luck on the journey to Tiānzhú. But don't listen to either Tang Sanzang or Zhu Bajie, at least not so blindly. Follow your instincts if you feel like something is wrong." It'd worked well for him so far, after all.

"Of course, Dà-shīxiōng," both Sha Wujing and Ao Lie said in unison before exchanging bows with the Monkey King for what would hopefully not be the last time.

Sun Wukong knew he would miss them. And perhaps some part of him would miss Tang Sanzang and Zhu Bajie as well. He had to admit, traveling with them hadn't been as bad as it could've been. But he could no longer tolerate the presence of someone who refused to listen to him, either. This was for the best.

Wasn't it?

Of course it is! Sun Wukong told himself as he rode away on his cloud and straight towards Huāguǒshān. This was what he'd wanted! At last, he was away from the constant reprimands and needless comparisons and especially that damn Tight-Fillet Spell!

Away from... from the kindness he knew the monk was more than capable of expressing, for he had shown it numerous times throughout the journey already. Even towards him.

"If I ever consent to see you again, let me fall into the Avīci Hell!"

Stop that! Sun Wukong shook his head as the monk's final words echoed in his mind. So he had shown a little kindness on occasion while nearly everyone else had scorned him. So what? All they'd done since defeating the Lady Bone Demon was argue, and in the end, none of it had mattered anyway.

What mattered now was finally getting back home, back to his beautiful mountain and loyal monkeys.

Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else mattered!

And perhaps if he told himself this enough times, it would eventually prove true. Even as the tears began to fall.

*********************************************

NOTES

Shīfu (师父): Master

Túdì (徒弟): Disciple

Shīxiōng (师兄): Senior Brother; Dà (大) is used to refer to the eldest.

Shīdì (师弟): Junior Brother

Jiějie (姐姐): elder sister or an unrelated older female friend.

Lǎoyé (老爺): Venerable Father

Xíngzhě (行者): Pilgrim

A-: Friendly diminutive. Always a prefix.

Dāizi (呆子): Idiot; Zhu Bajie is frequently called this in Journey to the West.

Xièxie (謝謝): Thank you

White: Bái (白), representing death, mourning, and purity.

Gānbēi (干杯): literally means dry cup; an equivalent to saying "cheers" after a toast has been given. Guests are expected to empty their cup in one motion.

Ten thousand years: Wànsuì (萬歲), a phrase used to wish long life.

Fēi (妃): consort

Bìxià (陛下): Majesty

Diànxià (殿下): Highness

Tang Seng (唐僧): Tang Sanzang's courtesy name, the name one receives at adulthood.

Subodhi (須菩提): a disciple of Buddha and Sun Wukong's first mentor.

Gàobié (告别): farewell

Nirvāṇa: A state in which there is neither desire nor suffering, the breaking of karma and the cycle of reincarnation. It is the ultimate goal of Buddhism. I talk about it a bit more here.

Tiānzhú (天竺): India

Huāguǒshān (花果山): Flower-Fruit Mountain

Avīci: one of the twenty-one naraka (hell) in Hinduism and Buddhism, as well as its lowest level. Reserved for those who have committed severe crimes.

Bāoxiāng (寶象): called Precious Image Kingdom in the Anthony Yu translation of Journey to the West, one of the many kingdoms the Pilgrims come across.

In the original story, after Sun Wukong gets exiled for killing Lady White Bone (with Tang Sanzang thinking the Monkey King had simply killed innocents three times over), the Pilgrims meet the kidnapped third princess of the kingdom, nicknamed Bǎihuāxiū (百花羞/Hundred Flowers' Shame) and it's soon revealed that she'd been taken by Huángpáoguài (黄袍怪/Yellow Robe Demon).

After escaping said demon and traveling to the kingdom, the Pilgrims inform the king of his daughter's whereabouts. Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing agree to rescue her, but both disciples are quickly beaten, with Sha Wujing even getting captured as well while Zhu Bajie goes into hiding.

After getting denial of her involvement, Yellow Robe decides to shift himself into a human and visit his father-in-law, where he then proceeds to tell the king how he had saved the princess from a shapeshifting tiger demon, married her, and then accuses Tripitaka of being that same shapeshifting tiger demon after creating an illusion around the monk. The king immediately believes him and has Tang Sanzang apprehended.

With Sun Wukong still gone and the others indisposed in some way or another, Ao Lie (whose name actually comes from adaptations, not the original novel itself) attempts to stop the demon himself by transforming into a palace maiden and attempting to stab Yellow Robe while doing a sword dance, but he ultimately fails as well, getting his leg injured in the process. Zhu Bajie finds him and—not for the first time—expresses a desire to just quit the pilgrimage altogether until Ao Lie calls him out on this and tells him to get Sun Wukong, which he eventually does.

Both the princess and Sha Wujing are rescued after Sun Wukong kills her and Yellow Robe's young children and Monkey soon figures out that the demon actually came from Heaven, with his true identity being Revatī, the Wood-Wolf Star (Zeta Piscium). As it turns out, the princess herself was once a celestial jade girl in charge of tending to the incense. One day, she fell in love with Revatī and he with her, but believing their love to be star-crossed (pun absolutely intended), the two agree to go down to Earth to be together. Revatī is then apprehended and after the princess explains everything to her father, Tripitaka is freed and the Pilgrims carry on with their journey to the West afterwards.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #journey to the west #jttw #sun wukong #tang sanzang #tripitaka #zhu bajie #sha wujing #ao lie #lady bone demon #my writing

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criminal-sen · 1 year

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No warnings, just a vent/rant and me being a cranky millennial

Finally called back the surgeon about top surgery. A few things: 1) they don't take my insurance 2) the surgery would be around $9k and 3) it's $100 just for a consultation

Not great news. I forgot to even ask what insurance they do take - but switching around fucks so severely with my other scripts that idk if it would even be worth it??? Like. Even if they take the insurance, wouldn't I get hit with a 'not essential' claim and not get covered anyway? They tried telling me my eczema meds weren't essential either, even tho my hands literally had no skin on them:/ (I should've asked the lady on the phone about all this shit but my mind always fuckin. blanks out during phone calls)

$9k is a lot but it's also an achievable goal. God I just wish I had a support group fr. Got connected with a local queer discord, which is great, but I was expecting to root out some actual physical meetings only to find there aren't any, at least not in any official capacity. But ppl do host picnics and shit so maybe I'll wind up making some friends thru stuff like that idk

Cuz going thru this alone is just too much for me. Having one (1) friend who lives an hour away just.. isn't enough. I need to be able to call someone and have them come over to talk (and vice versa), I need someone with shared experience (my 1 friend is genderfluid but lived most of their life as a happy and successful cis male, which is fine! but not great for my own dysphoria and surgery concerns), I just need.. more ppl in my life idk

Okay rant over. No.. it's not, actually. I've spent a lot of time lately just seething at how smart phones/social media etc have ruined what little sense of friendship and community I used to have. No one fucking hangs out anymore! There's no public chill spots cuz no one fucking leaves their house! Everyone is just so standoffish and wary of strangers now, I fucking hate it. And yah, I'm being a bit of a cranky old person but it's fucking.. maddening. And the standoffish thing applies to myself as well - its so much easier now to just ignore the outside world and live in a bubble. I tell everyone I never get bored cuz of my art/writing obsessions but that's not 100% true - when I normally would get bored, I just go fuck around on tumblr🤦

Ugh I'm fine, it's fine. Just had kind of a rough week dealing with dysphoria and idk.. The Horrors. Hanging out with one (1) friend soon so I'm sure that'll lift my mood a bit

#vent post

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the-average-procrastinator · 2 years

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DD S2 E9:

Let's continue wailing about Matt Murdock :

I don't even feel bad for you Fisk, stop with the sad face; you deserve this

My dude being King Pin of a prison isn't even that great, keep it

Is... someone making friends at lunch..?

Ah, yes. Yelling "get it done" in front of guards isn't suspicious at all

Fisk is wheelin' and dealin' ... .still suspiciously....

Aw yeah... the toilet bowl cleaner will do that to you, Matt

Oh Elektra got a CLEANING crew in there

"We need to tell the police." .... now come on Matt... these are cultist immortal ninjas

Not sure adrenaline spiking when you kill someone necessarily means you enjoy it? Not applying to Elektra obviously, but for other people

"Goodbye Elektra" - FINALLY

Did Fisk.... Did Fisk threaten Frank and get him in prison literally just to get Frank to kill the prison "king pin" for him???

Oh Frank :'(

Foggy: I think we need time apart Matt: You're right Foggy: Excuse me???

Matt you jerk >:(

This is why Karen and Foggy should've been together

Oh this weasel again?

There we go with the "I'll protect you". Oh.. sorry for calling you a weasel sir... 😬

Karen, babygirl, you are doing so good

Oh Heck just a slit throat right off the bat? Frank, my dude

Finally a lady not going to interview someone possibly sketch alone

Frank, I don't think he's gonna be chill with you after this; oh okay, you realize this, my apologies

🎶 It was a set up... who could have seen this coming 🎶

Frank Castle, you beast... saving the tax payers money. Absolutely brutal

Why do these insane cults always want to unleash some unstoppable force that will probably destroy them as well?

Karen is just... so good at hopping jobs and actually being good at them I'm so jealous of her

Fisk you fool he wants to kill you and so do I (want him to)

FRANK!!! Nooo If he wasn't chained you'd be toast Fisk

I knew he'd want Frank to keep the criminal vacuum open, it's too convenient

Oh THAT is MESSED UP, oh they're VAMPIRE ninjas I am Disturbed!! And I just saw someone get bludgeoned!

Well... no one can say Fisk isn't ambitious and a go-getter

OH so Frank is getting out of prison THAT way okay....

NOT this thing again.. wait... "remember me by"...... what...

NOBU?? So... You can't kill an immortal person permanently? That is inconvenient.

#tiff watches #dd

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cosmojjong · 3 years

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i think i may have aced this job interview but instead of being happy im actually sad cause what if i have to put music aside again

#im just aware i need a new job but also... music...#all these jobs always take up so much of my time and im scared i won't be able to find time for studying music again #please just end meeee #the lady seemed very prone to hiring me i should've never applied and it was too late to back down.... 😭😭😭#didi rambles

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hybistrophile · 3 years

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The worst thing to ever happened in that house is Louise getting her period. Cain Was in tears, Louise was in tears, the youngest were crying and running around screaming, Cletus was in a panic and y/n was forced to come home to settle the masses

You should've known better than to explain away your period products as only being useful to women such as yourself. And you should've known better than to expect a Southern school to have proper sex education.

In your defense, Louise had yet to turn ten, so you thought you could delay the talk for at least another year. But you still kicked yourself when Cain called your cellphone from the landline.

"Mama, Lulu's dyin'!"

"What? Cain, this is not funny! What's going on?"

From the other end of the line, you hear the lamentations of Cornelius and the sobs of Caleb. Even Cain sounds like he's on the edge of tears.

Then, you hear your daughter screaming: "I'm bleedin'!"

"Louise? Louise, what do you mean? Did you cut yourself? Louise, why are you bleeding?" You spoke too loudly. Kurtis (totally-not-Cletus) and a couple of his butchers heard you.

Taking off his bloody goggles and even bloodier gloves, he traversed the slaughterhouse to reach you. You had just dropped by to bring him his lunch. You had just left your babies alone for a quarter-hour. It wasn't supposed to take more than half an hour. But, apparently, that's all it took.

"Tell me I didn't just hear 'bout one of my babies-"

"I'm bleedin' from the inside!" Louise screams through the speaker.

"From the inside? Did you say from the inside? Is it from between your legs, Lulu?"

"Lulu?" Kurtis took your phone. He tried to stay calm, but how could he? "Lulu, does your tummy hurt?"

"Yes!"

"You bleedin' from between your legs?"

"Yes!"

"Oh," you gasp and cover your mouth.

On the other end of the line, Cain also gasps. "Daddy, is Lulu on her period?"

Then, as you and your husband looked at each other, you sighed.

"You ain't dyin', Lulu. You're becomin' a lady," her father passed the phone over to her mother.

"Mama'll teach you all 'bout it," you took the phone.

While Kurtis assigned his second in command and stripped himself of his works clothes, you talked to Louise (and Cain) about how to deal with the tummy ache (the painkillers in the medical cabinet) and the mess in her dress (laundry and a hot bath.)

The two of you drive back home as fast as you could. When you opened the fromt door, all three of your sons were running towards you and almost knocked the both of you down. They'd been crying, but their tears were dry now.

"Nelly, Caleb," Daddy picked them up in his arms. "You gotta be strong for Lulu, kay? We gotta wash our tears away, kay? Cain, help me change 'em."

While the boys were cleaning themselves up in the bathroom downstairs, you went to Louise' bedroom upstairs. You picked out an old set of PJs for her before knocking on the bathroom door.

"Don't come in, Cain."

"It's me, baby."

"Mama," you heard the water splash.

Once inside, you asked about the pain and her appetite. She can have more painkillers after she gets a bite. And her favorite dessert. Daddy'll go buy her whatever she feels like.

"Does it always hurt?" She asked while drying herself off.

"Afraid so, baby," you helped her with a second towel.

After showing her where you kept the pads, you taught her how to apply one.

"They're like Caleb's diapers," she observed as she pulled the panties up her legs.

You laughed. Then she laughed. She was uncomfortable in her changing body, but she was comfortable with you.

After changing into her PJs, she squeezed you in her still-so-small arms. "Not ready to be a lady, Mama."

"You're still my baby, Lulu," you picjed her up like you used to when she was still your baby. "You're just growing. It's growing pains."

Because you and Kurtis' room had a TV set, you tucked her into your bed and showed her how soothing a heating pad can be. And even if it was too early, you encouraged her to take a nap while you went to prepare dinner.

The boys were waiting for you downstairs, so you assigned them each a task: "Daddy's going out to buy chocolate. Cain, you make sure your brothers stay away from the stove. You can go pick up the toys off the floor and play, or take them upstairs. Your sister is not feeling well, so don't make too much noise, okay?"

When you were finished with the stove and Kurtis was back with a bag full of chocolate treats, you called the kids: "Dinnertime!" But nobody called back. "Guys?"

"Baby," your husband beckoned you upstairs. "Baby, you gotta see this," he whispered once you started walking up the stairs.

Taking your hand, he opened the door to your room. Inside, the TV was on, but the volume was down. And, in bed, laid your daughter. And your sons. They were cuddled up next to her, keeping her safe and snug under the covers. The boys had joined her for a late afternoon nap.

"Kurtis," you covered the wide grin spreading across your face, but he didn't even bother.

"They grow up so fast," he squeezed your hand and spoke softly. "But they'll always be our babies.

#Ask #Anonymous #Cletus Kasady x You #Cletus Kasady x Reader

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qyllenhaal · 4 years

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God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #lee bodecker fic #sebastian stan fic

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professionallush · 2 years

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So the lady that made no money working for the KK app wrote an article for VICE about the experience that starts like this:

There were 19 miles to empty in my gas tank, 15 miles between my apartment and my office, and $5 and change in my bank account. I pulled my 10-year-old Ford Mustang—banged up and bright yellow—into the Arco station at Western and Melrose, popped open the fuel filler, inserted the nozzle, and pumped, the price ticker jumping 20 or 30 cents with each trigger-pull of my finger. I stopped when it hit $4—a little over a gallon at the place and time: Los Angeles, California. Summer 2015.

When I started up the ’Stang, though, the range indicator barely moved. It was not enough to get me from East Hollywood to Santa Monica and back in weekday traffic (a one- to two-hour commute each way). I panicked, slapped at the steering wheel, and screamed. And then I cried through my carefully applied contour.

and I'm not a "pull the ladder up" "everyone should suffer like I suffered" person at all. Of course she should've been paid fairly and I should've too when I worked in Hollywood and did the same shit to stretch my meager paycheck.

HOWEVER, I just want to point out that you can take the bus from East Hollywood to Santa Monica and that's exactly what I did because it cost at the time I think $1.25 (it's $1.75 now) and thousands if not millions of people do it every day, just most of them aren't white like Jessica and me.

So like, fuck all of the Kardashians but also look up a bus route that you can take to your new job.

#the bus is really not that bad #it kind of beats driving in traffic #transportation

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all! Kaitlynn ❤️😍

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