#I think you should call the police on Judith

[neon-danger]

Judith Ward loves to prey on Alex in my game. Inviting him out and just calling him randomly. She's a predator. He doesn't even like her. I like, uhh, you know what all the ones I know by name were in older games too. I like the updated Sims 4 Don Lothario I guess, I manually updated his design as the old one was just bad and I'd otherwise be stuck with it from my save being old.

New Don Lothario would treat me so wrong and I would thank him

[skyethel]

What does Judith Butler know about loading her son’s corpse in a cab? What does she know about the horror of turning a taxi into a hearse?

im so mad. i've been in mourning and a state of constant rage for palestine for the past few years, and these past weeks have been especially devastating. while im not palestinian myself, i have friends and family that are, and i cant help but be on edge about the things they cant afford to think about right now.

i read their 'thought piece'. its nothing new on that front, and thats why it makes me so mad. im really struggling to connect with the blind, white-american privilege of calling for non-violence in the face of a genocidal apartheid regime. the fucking gall of these so-called western intellectuals to preach how rampant anti-intellectualism has become just to turn around and buy into some colonial playbook of peace shit is hilarious. people i thought were with me on this, not only on palestinian liberation but on liberation full stop, have been a constant disappointment. i cut off so many ppl i called friends over the absolute lack of grace and empathy they handled this with. when are white western 'activists' going to stop treating us like timed bombs of irrationality?

this part in particular kept coming up and made me feel like i was going insane:

"When, however, the Harvard Palestine Solidarity Committee issues a statement claiming that ‘the apartheid regime is the only one to blame’ for the deadly attacks by Hamas on Israeli targets, it makes an error. It is wrong to apportion responsibility in that way, and nothing should exonerate Hamas from responsibility for the hideous killings they have perpetrated...The necessity of separating an understanding of the pervasive and relentless violence of the Israeli state from any justification of violence is crucial if we are to consider what other ways there are to throw off colonial rule"

literally nobody is asking anyone to 'exonerate' hamas. hamas is a military organization fighting the US-backed israeli occupation with smuggled weapons that is active in 365 km² at best. hamas is not even in the orbit when it comes to comparisons to israel.

israel said it with its own mouth that hamas is a product of israeli occupation. this isnt a matter of opinion, right? or am i too far left to think that a brutal occupation will radicalize its victims? and they gave them the means to become a 'terrorist organization'? how are you claiming to care about palestinians if you don't bother unsubscribing from the very schools of thought that constructed the occupation in the first place?

some of you 'leftists' have been lying about what you've been reading because where are the frantz fanon quotes you like to throw around, huh? where's the malcolm x, the angela davis? where are your insta posts with chomsky's books?

holy shit WHAT OTHER WAYS?

keep our communities out of your mouth. we are not some thought experiment you can exercise your conscience on. we're watching an ethnic cleansing unfold, and instead of supporting palestinians so many of you are playing out your own little fantasies of the 'progressive' solidarity you fail to show. sometimes, you need to fucking stop and listen instead of consulting the higher morality police on whether you need to 'contextualize' your incompetence.

[cutecherrygirl]

Rage pt.3

Heres pt 1. And pt.2 <3

You were happy to go, satisfied that they were moving. Forest was interesting at night; you never noticed it before. The owls sent their plaintive, haunting cries through the trees, and the field mice cowardly fled before your slippery feet. The air of the place was colder, because it first froze in the hollows on the slopes of the forest. You found Hyunjin moving quietly with ease through the bed of leaves; it was just a matter of being careful where you stand. You didn't look back to see if Seungmin was following you.

You recognized the place where they left the forest. You was here earlier today. Now, however, there was some frenzied activity there: red and blue lights flashed on the cars, spotlights framed the dark, shriveled forms of people. You looked at them curiously. A few were familiar. That woman, for example, with the thin tortured face and worried eyes - Aunt Judith? And the tall man next to her - Aunt Judith's fiance, Robert?

Someone else should have been with them, You thought. Some kid with light hair like yours. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't call the name.

Two girls, with their arms wrapped around each other, stood in the circle of police officers, and you still remembered those two. The little black-haired girl who was crying was Chaeryeong. Tall, with combed dark hair, Yuna.

“But she's not in the water,” Chaeryeong told the uniformed man. Her voice trembled on the edge of hysteria. "We saw Seungmin take her out. I keep telling you."

"And you left him here with her?"

"we had to. The storm was getting worse and something was coming-"

"That's not important," Yuna interrupted. She sounded just a little bit calmer than Chaeryeong. "Seungmin said that if - he had to leave her, that he would leave her lying under the willow trees."

"And where is Seungmin right now?" another uniformed man asked.

"We don't know. We went to call for help last night. Ours was probably next. But as for what happened - Y/N…." Chaeryeong turned around again and burried her face in Yuna's shoulder.

They are upset because of me, you understand. How pointless. After all, I can clarify it. You moved forward into the light, but Hyunjin pulled you back. You looked at him hurt.

"Not like that. Pick the ones you want and we'll sort them out," he said."

"I want with what?"

"For feeding, y/n. You're the hunter now. It's your prey."

You rested your tongue suspiciously on the fang. Nothing looked like food there. However, because Hyunjin said it, you were more inclined to believe him. "Whoever you think," you said accommodatingly.

Hyunjin tilted his head back, his eyes narrowed, surveying the scene like an expert assessing a famous painting. "Well, what do you think of a couple of nice doctors?"

"No", said a voice behind them.

Hyunjin baerly glanced over his shoulder at Seungmin. "Why not?"

"Because there have been enough attacks. She may need human blood, but she doesn't have to hunt for it," Seungmin's face was closed and hostile, but there was an aura of unwavering determination around him.

"There's other way?" Hyunjin asked ironically.

"You know there is. Find someone who is willing – or someone who can be influenced to be willing. Someone who would do it for Y/N and who is strong enough to take it mentally."

"And I suppose you know where such an embodiment of virtue can be found?"

"Bring her to school. We'll stop there," Seungmin said and disappeared.

You have left an area still bustling with activity, lights flashing, people milling about. As you were leaving, you noticed an unusual sight. In the middle of the river, lit by spotlights, there was a car. It was completely submerged except for the front bumper sticking out of the water.

What a stupid place to park your car, you thought as you followed Hyunjin back into the forest.

Seungmin starter feeling again.

It hurt. He thought he was completely done with the pain, done with any feeling. When he pulled your lifeless body out of the dark water, he thought he couldn't hurt you again, because nothing could compare to that moment.

He was wrong.

[cipheramnesia]

You're a disgusting being for interacting with the monster that is dead-dyke, I'll stab you both if I ever see in real life, know that

I figured I'd just publish this so anyone who wants to can see how fucked up call out posts are. Actually sending me a death threat because I did more than zero fact checking on a call out that's as fake and full of shit as every call out.

On a related note, in my research travels I found what I can only describe as a call out subculture. In essence, a loosely organized group who seem ferociously committed to making sure every single call out they find gets pushed and maintained. This is pretty interesting because it's a kind of resurgence of purity culture, a policing of language and sex that's done under the guise of being progressive or protective, when the reality of it all is oppression of outsiders.

It's not a huge surprise that they often particularly target marginalized people or anyone who shows support to marginalized people. Or, weirdly, seem to be able to suss out someone being part of a disenfranchised social group. For example, the above threat is also antisemitic. I don't bring up my background much, but sometimes it feels like they just... know.

And in a broader sense, I also see a trend of paranoia about sex or language being treated as something profane. My joking post about my neovagina is a good example, it being tagged NSFW or similar literally hundreds of times. I'm baffled and this seems like a good time to bring it up. It's a humorous post with no content that would rate higher than a pg-13 movie rating other than maybe some curse words. Yet it's out there being tagged like it should be 18 and over.

Which brings me to a strange tentative hypothesis that there's some sort of nebulous connection between these types of purity police and radical feminists, which would suggest they spring from a shared authorian or fascist source. And before you dismiss it as overly generalized, let's look at the facts.

Both of them share a use of progressive language designed to make it appear as if they're providing positive resources. However, they also demand uncritical allegiance. If you find any fault with their reasoning, you become immediately treated as a threat. Consider how radfems treat the concept of masculinity, and look to Judith Butler for how quickly they turned agaisnt someone who critized them - including going so far as to take an essay Butler wrote against pedophilia, and selectively pull quotes making it look like Butler was pro-pedo. Now, guess what every single purity police call out post claims? Yeah. It's designed to try to override any reason, and as you can see above, it works. Someone has decided they'd rather commit a transphobic, antisemitic hate crime over the simplest amount of review.

So they have that going on, a kind of low key recruitment to encourage violence and unthinking obedience as opposed to critical thinking. The other aspect is they are both obsessed with purity. Obsessed with having an unblemished legacy of absolutely unimpeachable, perfect behavior. With authoritarians this generally manifests in being able to show a spotless lineage, showing that you unfailingly support the party and its beliefs at all moments of your life, public or private. In radfems, it manifests in their opposition to kinky sex, sex work, devaluation of any woman who may like a man, etc. And for the call out and purity groups, it manifests as that you cannot ever have misspoken online, had an opinion which deviates from the modern accepted norm, never have done anything wrong in all your online history, because they will follow it back as far as possible, and pull something from ten years ago or more just to proclaim how terrible you are in present. Or to use a different example, I remember reading another callout which claimed the subject had got a bottle of champagne after a big fundraiser for rent or some such. And let me tell you talk about puritanism. Did you know you can get a bottle of champagne for ten bucks? Making it seem like someone is a monster for spending three cups of Starbucks on a small celebration is beyond fucked up, it's disingenuous bullshit.

So, yeah, it seems like a leap, but the devil of this is literally the details. The details which aren't included in a call out, the manipulation of language in a call out, the sneaking in of false accusations disguised as "proved" with sketchy screen shots. The demand of unthinking allegiance. The suspicious focus only on marginalized people.

My dear purity police people, my call out culture fellows, your true colors are showing.

(yes you may reblog this, in fact I encourage it, but as usual please be sensible and don't send the asker anon hate, or anything worse - we don't do that, just block or ignore them)

[episims]

"Sure, track my call and storm into my home." Isn't he Judi's former landlord? "Do you have a crush on a police officer or something?"

"It was Hanna's call I was tracking. She's my property."

"Congrats, you found out who she's calling to. I don't mind if you tell her to stop. Do you need help with finding back to the door?"

"...Judith's living here, am I correct? I have something I've been meaning-"

"She should be back within an hour. Yes, you can wait for her. Not that you were going to ask."

"Hmph."

"Sooo, are those things attached to your head the latest weird hair trend, or are you trying to measure your EEG?"

"I'm not just trying to-"

"Oh, it works? Did you build it yourself?"

"Yes. You wouldn't understand-"

"Try me!"

"...It's closer to DTI. I've applied some modifications."

"You're 3D recording your neural network? That's pretty cool. Any side effects?"

"A headache. I need the data-"

"Need help with construing it?"

"Hmph. What makes you think I need help?"

"I am a medic who majored in physics in addition to human biology. Some might appreciate my input. But you do you!"

"...I guess I could use an assistant-"

"Oh, trust me, you couldn't afford me. I'm only offering because I'm bored to hell."

[qyllenhaal]

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.

[judediangelo75]

Doctor/Hospital AU Snippet

Side Note: I am, by no means, a medical student okay? This isn’t gonna include a lot of medical jargon. This is just to test this AU to see if I’m gonna be invested in this idea. And to see if you guys like it too, I do like sharing my work. 

Plus small age difference, Talbott is 27 while Judith is 25.

Judith went over her clipboard, reviewing the information on her latest patient as she sipped on her green tea.

Talbott Winger. 27 year old male, six foot tall, weighing at 183 pounds. Came in with a fatal bullet wound in the chest, just missing his right lung by a two inches.

The night the young man came in was one of her rare nights off, being called at 1 AM at night to come in to do an emergency surgery to save the man’s life. 

The operation was deemed a success, Talbott has been sleep induced to help his recovery process, but Judith had yet to return home. Even after one of her closest friends, Chiara, insisted that she could take over from there. But Judith was rather stubborn, and stayed.

She was running off of caffeine and the energic buzz of her work place to help keep her going. She was doing her last round and was visiting the poor man who found himself at the wrong end of someone’s gun.

She finally entered her patient’s room to check his vitals. This stuff was like clockwork for her, she was so absorbed into her work that she didn’t noticed red eyes staring at her.

Talbott awoke to the beeping sound of a heart monitor and gentle, but firm, hands wrapping something around his arm.

He felt groggy as he opened his eyes, trying to remember what lead him up to this point.

He could remember gunshots, shouting, police sirens, the searing pain of a bullet entering his body, Tonks’ yelling at him to ‘stay with me, you bastard! You can’t die on me now!’-

He blinked a few more times as reality sunk in.

He was shot in the midst of a home invasion and was taken to the hospital. His chest still hurt but it was to the point it was bearable. 

He finally took a look at who was tending to him, only for his heart to skip a beat.

A young woman was mumbling under her breath as she jotted down some notes on her clipboard. She looked to be about his age or so. She at least half a foot shorter than him, but had a “no nonsense” air about her that made her seem taller. She had dark flawless dark skin, long brown black locs set in a high ponytail, and the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen.

A pale shade of gold.

Talbott swallowed briefly. 

‘I’m in so much trouble...’

Talbott used to be a married man. He married his high school sweetheart, Badeea Ali, when he was 22. But after just four years of marriage, things fell apart. With Badeea traveling to showcase her art and him working in the police force, spending time together grew to be nonexistent. They still cared for each other and remained friends, but Talbott never dated again afterwards.

He focused on his work rather than dating. Even though Tonks, Andre, Penny, Nuri, Chiara, and his ex-wife Badeea were all insisting that he go out on a date with someone. He always said that nobody caught his eye and that he just wasn’t interested.

Until now...

Now here he was, probably still high off of painkillers, staring at this young woman in black scrubs and a white coat as if he was hit by Cupid’s arrow. He bit the inside of his cheek as he studied her facial features. His heart skipped another beat when she stepped closer to replace the IV needle in his arm. A faint sweet smell wafted up to his nose, making him feel lax. 

And he knew it wasn’t the pain meds...

‘Definitely in so much trouble...’

Judith paused when she heard a small irregularity in the heart monitor, her eyes finding red ones staring back at her. She rose a brow in surprise finding some clarity in those beautiful red irises...

‘Wait, beautiful?’ Judith mentally shook her head.

‘Chiara maybe be right. I need to some damn sleep if I’m thinking like that...’

“Ah, awake I see. Hello, Mr. Winger. My name is Judith Harris, I’m your assigned doctor as you recover here at Saint Mungos. How are you feeling?”

‘Like a high school boy with a crush...’

Talbott willed his brain to function on responding and not focusing trying to figure out that sweet accent in her voice-

“Thank you, Ms. Harris. I feel a little groggy. Slight chest pain but nothing too unbearable,” he answered. Judith nodded promptly, making slight note of this. Talbott took note that she didn’t correct him to say “Mrs.”, meaning she wasn’t married. 

‘Don’t go jumping to conclusions, she could have a boyfriend...’

“Do you remember how you got here, Mr. Winger,” she asked, looking up from her clipboard to study her patient. 

Judith would be a damn liar if she said that the young cop wasn’t piquing her interest. He was rather handsome. Dark skin (though a few shades lighter than her own), sharp angular features, thick sharp brows, trim bicolor hair, full lips, and piercing red eyes.  

He had a dark, mysterious vibe to him that appealed to her. Eyes that spoke of secrets about his personality...

And she felt tempted to look into them to see if she could figure them out.

She mentally shook her head again.

Goodness gracious, her singlehood was showing again...

She hasn’t dated since college, after her last failed relationship. All her closest friends have seen what type of mess she was the days after the fact before she just buried herself in her studies. 

She wanted to enter the medical field from a young age. To be like her dear father and help people. She’d be damned if she was going to let a break up over a man ruin her dream.

Even though that meant cutting off dating altogether.

David, Nuri, Chiara, Orion, Rath, Bill, Jae, Andre, even her aging father Kendrick have been on her ass about at least going out on a date. She always shut all of them with all types of excuses. Biggest one was that she wasn’t interested in ANY one.

Until now...

And out of all people on God’s green Earth, it had to be a patient under her care.

Bloody hell, she should schedule a vacation after this...

“I remember being shot...” Judith snapped out of her musings when the deep voice of her patient reached her ears. 

“Yes, my team and I were able to remove the bullet and keep you stabilized. You’re quite lucky, just two more inches to the right, that bullet would’ve punctured your lung,” she said. Good, no signs of memory loss...

“Lucky indeed... enough to be saved by an angel...” Gold eyes blinked at him in surprise and Talbott realized that he said that out loud.

Shit.

Judith cleared her throat.

“W-Well Mr. Winger, by the looks of things, you seem to be healing quite well. This is the end of my shift, so if you have an questions, require anything, or need assistance, just press the buzzer and your assigned nurse, Ms. Lobosca, will come and assist. I’ll see you soon, Mr. Winger. Have a good night.” Talbott didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to his beautiful doctor (surgeon?) as she briskly walked out of his room. He groaned.

He really got it bad...

[theshapeofhorror]

Michael Myers in Halloween (1978)

Michael Myers to me is easily the scariest of the 'classic slashers' as well as the most fascinating one. While I love many aspects of the Halloween franchise and particularly of the first movie from 1978, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the main reason for my obsession with it is Michael himself. I really enjoy the line he treads between 'human serial killer' and 'supernatural, driven by some power of evil'. I don't swing either way with this - if they come out in Halloween Kills / Ends and outright state he's just human or he's straight up supernatural I wouldn't mind at all. (As long as it's executed better than in the thorn trilogy!) But I do particularly love Halloween 1978 above all others for the ambiguity surrounding Michael.

There are several little things in the movie that I think 'humanize' him. Little movements and quirks that go against Loomis' statement of Michael as 'emotionless' , without conscience and 'not being a man':

stealing the mechanic's coveralls he is seen wearing throughout the movie; did he do that so nobody would give him a second look and he could stalk/kill more easily?

Michael going back to Haddonfield and his old house when he could have gone anywhere else and start killing there

stealing his sister's gravestone

robbing the store for the mask, knife and rope; with this one I wonder if he got the mask specifically so nobody could recognize him if the police came looking for him or if he wanted to kill wearing a mask again as he did when he killed Judith; either way this one proves he planned on killing and doing other things to his victims (rope) all along

stopping the car when Annie yells after him, although I'm not sure why; maybe he wants to terrify them, maybe he was genuinely pissed off (leaning more towards the first option)

this is a big one: letting Laurie see him while stalking her, he explicitly doesn't even attempt to hide doing all of this, he wants her to be aware of him

how he leans over against the tree while stalking Annie, also how he touches the fence while stalking Tommy; those are SUPER small things but he could stand there without moving like he does in many other scenes so I feel like it does have some (small) significance

he's perfectly capable of following road rules so he doesn't stand out while he trails Laurie and Annie (Annie does notice him in the novel though)

while creeping on Annie he drops the flower pot hanging around; with this one I'm not sure if he did it intentionally to scare her of it happened on accident because he tried creeping closer (for what it's worth: it's an accident in the novel)

choking Annie before slitting her throat, even though she makes a lot of noise that could potentially lead to someone interfering (unlikely, but still); also, with how he's shaking her by the throat by the end, he might have been frustrated at how long choking her took?

I also find his vocalisations while killing very interesting; the only other times he makes sound in this movie is when Laurie hurts him and when he hunts her; first I thought maybe he grunts from exertion but with Bob and Lynda he makes a sound before he even really got his hands on them, so...

also that he always chokes his victims instead of killing them more efficiently / quickly

how he tilts his head after killing Bob, like he either admires his work or finds it curious

also a big one: dressing up as the ghost; he didn't need to do that, he could have just waltzed in there and killed Lynda outright as she was left alone in the house

prepares the 'haunted house' for Laurie, knowing that she'll come over because of the phone call; he enjoys watching her fear and horror and even postpones killing her for that

also, he 'misses' her twice with the knife - seems more likely to me that this was to further scare/torment her before killing her

he seems to feel pain when stabbed by the needle, removes it and falls unconscious

he doesn't fall for Laurie's attempt at making him think she left the house

again, when stabbed in the eye and chest, he seems to be in pain, going so far as dropping the knife and clutching his chest

instead of taking the knife Laurie dropped he chokes her

his facial expression when the mask comes off, and that he immediately puts it back on; also the fact that we even DO get to see him unmasked and see that there's a person underneath that looks pretty 'normal'

Optional Bonus Stage:

In the novel Michael gets a boner from killing and stalking. I don't really know how canon the novel is supposed to be but I don't really want to count this, because the novel also features a very long, very uncomfortably detailed scene of Lynda and Bob having sex while glossing over many of the more pivotal scenes of the movie. I kinda lowkey suspect the writer was just horny. Make of that what you will.

For the dehumanizing aspects:

that he killed his sister when he was only 6 years old

his general way of moving looks really stiff, overly controlled / contained and unnatural

pretty much everything Loomis says about him: that he stared at a wall for 15 years and stopped talking, that he supposedly waited all this time for this specific day he'd break out, that he's blank and emotionless and there's pure evil in his eyes, that nothing Loomis tried could reach him

the way he stalks Laurie, making it seem like he's everywhere at once

the scene where he apparently vanishes in front of Laurie from when she sees him out of her window

the way he carries Annie into the house after killing her like she weighs nothing even though physically Michael doesn't really look like he's all that strong (normal build and height)

how he lifts Bob with only one arm, showing off his inhuman strength again

how quickly he manages to get into Tommy's house when Laurie tells the kids to hide upstairs without Laurie noticing him until it's too late

and obviously that he keeps standing up after sustaining injuries that should either hinder him more (the stabbing from Laurie, his eye) or should straight up kill him (getting shot by Loomis)

The movie keeps interweaving these two different sides to him right up till the end: we get to see him demasked which I think is a very humanizing aspect, especially with how ordinary Michael looks, but then a minute later we see him taking six shots straight to the chest without him dying. I absolutely adore this ambiguous portrayal. I also like many of the other portrayals throughout the franchise, like the more inhuman / supernatural one in Halloween 2 or the more 'human' one in 2018 and the aspects they bring to this character, but the 1978 one fascinates me in a way not many other fictional characters do.

[aroanehring]

I posted 2803 times in 2021

2 posts created (0%)

2801 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1400.5 posts.

I added 5408 tags in 2021

#quotes - 1985 posts

#frikadas varias - 855 posts

#gifs - 478 posts

#painting - 378 posts

#photography - 348 posts

#illustration - 332 posts

#important - 327 posts

#animals - 324 posts

#artists on tumblr - 191 posts

#twitter - 190 posts

Longest Tag: 41 characters

#shang chi and the legend of the ten rings

My Top Posts in 2021

#2

I don't know if anyone will read this, but I think it needs to be known.

In my house we usually watch "Todo es mentira" (Everything is a lie), a program that tells and comments on current affairs in the country and occasionally in the international sphere with a certain tone of irony and humor, but dealing with serious issues in depth.

Since yesterday they have been reporting on the situation in Cuba and today they had managed to contact a Cuban youtuber, Dina Stars, so that she could tell live the situation in the country and what was happening and it was precisely during this direct that the police called to the house and stopped her.

I don't know what will happen to this girl, or to the friends who continued to connect with the program until it seems that they also called them, but it's scary, it's very scary and I'm on the other side of the ocean, in Spain and not I have no type of connection with Cuba, but seeing the impunity with which they can fit in your house and force you to leave without knowing exactly what could happen to you, where are you going to go, without being able to have a lawyer ... I am left with the last words of this girl, advising that if anything happens to her it is the responsibility of the Cuban government ... I only hope that she and the rest of the people who have taken them can return to their families, because no one should live with that fear and uncertainty to be next.

And to the left-wing politicians who make comments trying to whitewash a government that is clearly a dictatorship and to the people I read around here, trying to defend it, really, go to hell, because a dictatorship always is, it doesn't matter what color it is, as bad it is a dictatorship of the right as one of the left, because at the moment in which your life is in danger for expressing what you think, freedom ceases to exist.

13 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 16:33:59 GMT

#1

Masterpost of my aesthetics

This is simply a compilation of the aesthetics that I have made of books, fairytales, mythology...

Animation

Gravity Falls

Mabel Pines [1]

Over the Garden Wall [X]

Yuuri!!! On Ice

Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky (Otayuri) [1] 

Yuri Plisetsky [1]

 Books

A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones

Jon Snow & Sansa Stark (Jonsa) [1]

Gemma Doyle Trilogy

Ann Bradshaw [1] 

Cecily Temple [1] 

Felicity Worthington [1] 

Gemma Doyle [1] 

Mary Dowd & Sarah Rees-Toome [1] 

Pippa Cross [1] [2] 

Pippa Cross & Felicity Worthington (Crossington) [1] 

The girls [1] [2] [3]

Harry Potter

Bill Weasley & Fleur Delacour [1]

Gellert Grindewald & Albus Dumbledore (Grindeldore) [1] 

Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley (Hinny) [1]

Mirrorworld

Reckless [1]

The Diviners series

Evie O'Neill [1] 

Naughty John [1]

 Fairy Tales

Beauty and the Beast [1] [2] 

Rumpelstilskin [1] 

Snow White [1] 

Sun, Moon, and Talia [1] 

The Little Mermaid [1] 

The Pied Piper from Hamelin [1] 

The red shoes [1] 

The Snow Queen [1] 

The Ugly Duck [1] 

The Wild Swans [1]

Miscellaneous

_Germany _[X]

_Russia _[X]

 History

Queen Marie Antoinette [X]

 Mythology

General

Werewolf [1]

Biblical Lore

Judith [1]

Celtic Mythology

The Morrígan [1]

Greek Mythology

Apollo & Daphne [1] 

Clytemnestra [1] 

Hades & Persephone [1] [2] 

Hecate [1] 

Orpheus & Euridyce [1] 

Pandora [1] 

Persephone [1] 

Zeus & Hera [1]

Irish Mythology/Folklore

Banshee [1] 

Deirdre of the Sorrows [1]

Norse Mythology

Heimdallr [1]

Scottish Mythology/Folklore

Kelpie [1]

Spanish Mythology/Folklore

White Death & Black Death [1]

 Miscellaneous

Silent Hill [X]

An endless list of things I love

Ballet [X]

Cake pops [X]

Cupcakes [X]

Gothic Architecture [X]

Lace [X]

Stained Glass [X]

Swans [X]

43 notes • Posted 2021-01-09 22:30:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[waka-chan-out]

I am a woman and a feminist. And as such I’m feminist tiktok. We love. We stan. It’s beautiful.

But I keep seeing things that irk me and I was wondering if this is internalized misogyny or something. Please help. I want to be called out if I’m wrong. But I’m just genuinely… mad so I don’t know if I’m overreacting or a jdksjdjsj

Okay.

Woman posts a tiktok where she shows a… thing… that makes it so you don’t get panty lines. And another woman stitches back saying that women shouldn’t care if their panty lines show.

Another woman just unprovoked says that if you can’t fathom wearing a tank top on a first date without shaving your armpits then shaving isn’t a choice and that’s a failing due to patriarchy.

And I’m mad because… why do we police what is and isnt okay to feel? Like it has nothing to do with a date I just feel better when I’ve shaved. Most of my girlies and I go to the beach every weekend (or we did precovid) and only two out of the nine of us shaved.

I like when my panty lines don’t show. I like being shaven. I like not wearing makeup. Why is it that some choices get to be “feminist” and others aren’t. I feel like if a woman made the choice for her own comfort… it shouldn’t be anyone else’s business. Like maybe it makes them comfy because they’re conditioned by patriarchy. But women being happy and comfortable and making choices that make them happy and comfortable…. Shouldn’t be what we’re calling out. I don’t know. Maybe I’m stupid and this is internalized misogyny that I need to get into check. But like…. Ahhhh. Its making me madddddd. Could I get your perspective/opinion on the situation please?

my million essays and classes and readings on gender and feminist theory are coming in clutch.

i’m gonna talk about feminism and gender and misogyny here so if you don’t want to read, just skip this post.

keep in mind that these are my opinions and interpretations of theory and my own experiences. if you disagree, that’s fine. i don’t really want to start an argument about this on my page but i do like taking about it, so if you have any questions i’m happy to continue the conversation.

the most feminist thing in the world is to mind your business. that sounds so dumb and simple but it’s true. literally, just leave women alone.

a lot of the things we do for ourselves are technically rooted in misogyny and capitalism (though i’m not gonna start yelling about that on my anime porn blog. just remember that stuff like shaving was popularized for women because razor companies realized they had an untapped demographic and wanted to exploit that). it’s important to remember that. however, it’s not even remotely feminist to insist that women express their gender in a specific way, even if you think you’re doing a good thing. if a woman wants to shave her legs, yes, she might subconsciously want to because of the patriarchal expectations of the society she lives in. she might also just like having smooth legs. at the root of the behavior is misogyny, but we have no right to judge what someone does or doesn’t want to do even if we know where the behavior comes from. we should educate each other to break down those strict, gendered behaviors over time, but no one person needs to feel obligated to push back against every expectation for women. that’s annoying and impossible.

gender is completely made up, and the expectations of how women should dress, act, and behave are determined from the second they’re born. that’s why it’s so hard to break out of those expectations in a society that, at its root, hates women and believes they should act in an extremely specific and limited way. and it hates women of color even more than that. expressing gender outside of the typical expectation for women makes the rigid rules society has set for us collapse, and that’s shocking and confusing for many people. it’s why men shame women for not shaving or cutting their hair short. it doesn’t fit how a capitalist and patriarchal society expects women to express themselves.

so yes, you’re completely right. women shouldn’t have to care if panty lines show, but if they don’t want them to that’s fine. women shouldn’t feel obligated to shave, but if they want to that’s fine. mind your business and let people do what makes them feel safe and comfortable. policing what women do, even if you’re trying to push back against gender expectations, is just narrowing the box women are allowed to fit into.

i’m a judith butler fiend so here’s a nice quote i like that kind of sums up my feelings on this:

“No matter whether one feels one’s gendered and sexed reality to be firmly fixed or less so, every person should have the right to determine the legal and linguistic terms of their embodied lives. So whether one wants to be free to live out a “hard-wired” sense of sex or a more fluid sense of gender, is less important than the right to be free to live it out, without discrimination, harassment, injury, pathologization or criminalization – and with full institutional and community support. That is most important in my view.”

the article is about “gender and the trans experience” and is really interesting so if you’d like to read it check it out here.

[trashyslashers]

Can I get some stuff for Poly Billy and Stu, Myers, and Bubba or any others for them catching feelings and not knowing what to do so it all bubbles up and explodes? Like a massive rant/confession or rash actions?

I wasn’t sure if you wanted the reader to catch feelings or the slashers to catch feelings, so I went with the slashers!! This came out much longer than intended.

I feel like Bubba’s is a small bit OOC and I apologize!! I did something a little different for his.

The endings are open! I left them up to the reader to determine how the confession turns out, so let your imaginations go wild. 

This is as gender neutral as I could keep it!———————————————————————————————————–

Billy & Stu:

Stu was the first of the duo to catch feelings for you - the fresh, new senior from some out of town high school that moved to Woodsboro before the year started. Casey, his ex, seemed to take a liking to you, which of course in turn caught Stu’s attention, and he found himself wanting to know more about you.

Of course, though, anything Stu was interested in, he’d tell Billy about - and that included romantic interests. The more Stu spoke about you, the more Billy paid attention to you. The particular way you spoke, the way you dressed, your type of humor, even small things like what kind of drink you brought with you to class every day all became of interest to the both of them as time went on.

The two of them are much more ridiculous together, now that they have a mutual interest in someone. Who’s spent the most time with you? Who knows more about you? Who do you talk to more? It’s almost, almost, like they’re in a competition with each other over you, but you’d never know it. The degree that they manage to keep their feelings a secret to is utterly astounding. They keep their cool around you whenever you spend time with them.

…Which they make sure happens, a lot. What’re you doing over the weekend? Wanna hang out at Stu’s house? - his parents won’t be home, and there’s a scary movie marathon on Saturday. Billy will be there, too! What about after school on Thursday? You’re almost overwhelmed by how much they want to spend time with you.

The two’ve them have actually never had a genuine, shared interest in someone before, if we’re being honest. Were you more into goofy, fun-loving guys like Stu? Or more laid back, confident guys like Billy? They’ll probably argue about it. A lot. The topic of who’d be a better boyfriend is a hot one between them. 

Though they argue about it, they honestly have no issue when it comes to sharing with each other. All they had to do was get your attention, right? EZ PZ.

…Or so they thought. Their minds went absolutely blank every time they tried to think of what to do, how to approach you, or how to even talk to you about this sort of thing. Being with two guys at once? What if you were only into one of them, or neither at all? How the hell do you even approach someone about this sort of thing? Neither’ve had any real issues with approaching people for relationships before, but a poly relationship was… very, very different.

Day in and day out they kept trying to figure out when the right time to make a move would be - should they wait until the holidays? Should they approach you individually, or together? Billy felt that one on one would be better, though Stu thought that they’d do better together - if they each approached you on their own, the other would miss out!

Any sort of plan or idea they had completely goes out the window one dreary, Friday afternoon. School had just let out - most students were piling into cars or onto the bus to hurry home. You, though, unfortunately, had been left without a ride. Planning to just walk home in the icy rain, a classmate of your approached you - a guy from your Economics class you knew as Chris. He was kind and pretty dorky, but he was charming in his own way; you’d heard rumors that he had a thing for you.

He approached you as you were leaning up against the wall of the school’s exterior, shivering as you fiddled with your walkman as you prepped it for your trudge home. In his typical, faux-confident manner, he came up to you - a sideways smile on his face as he asked if you’d like for him to give you a ride - he didn’t want you to get too cold out there, and surely he could help keep you warm.

“Nah,” - another voice suddenly chimed in before you could answer. “They’re good with us!” Stu, in his usual fashion, interjected as he hopped to your side, slinging his arm over your shoulder lazily. Before you or Chris could speak, Stu pulled you away from the conversation, over to where he was previously standing by Billy. 

Both took delight as you laughed out a “thank you”. As nice as Chris was, you weren’t particularly interested in spending much one on one time with him, you explained. You’d heard that he liked you, but he wasn’t “on the list” of the guys you were interested in and you hated rejected people.

This absolutely delighted them to no end; both the mention that you had no interest in that other guy, and that there were apparently multiple guys that had your attention.

Now - now was their chance. Most classmates had left, there were no prying eyes to watch if they got rejected - they couldn’t wait, they needed to ask and they needed to ask now.

Stu, with his arm still draped over your shoulders, tugged you closer as Billy’s arm joined his.

“Any chance the two of us are on that list?”

Michael Myers:

You’d really have to find some way to draw Michael’s attention and keep it, especially his non-hostile attention.

Michael’s no stranger to having an obsession, or a strong idée fixe on one single person, and you’re absolutely no exception to this. Once he’s caught feelings for you, they aren’t going away.

It’s different; it’s kind of scary for Michael, and considering the fact that he isn’t used to feeling anything even remotely nice towards another person, he… really has no idea what to do.

What he does know, though, is how to stalk. He knows how to watch, he knows how to observe and keep his presence hidden, revealing it as he pleases. He figures that since that’s what he knows best, that makes it the best way to get your attention.

Quite unintentionally on his end, he scares you for awhile. Giving you brief glimpses of himself as he lingers in the treeline across the street, or as he saunters through your neighbors yard, his eyes looking up to your window as you peered out, your heart pounding away in your chest as you were unsure of what to do.

You would never feel alone, now that Michael had his eyes on you. Walking to work, to school, or to the store? You can feel another presence out there, distant but close, somewhere in the sleepy streets of Haddonfield. Even if no other person was visible, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, the eerie feeling of knowing that you weren’t quite alone out there even though it appeared as such unnerving you to no end.

But Michael didn’t want to hurt you, no - he wanted to keep an eye on you. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about you; was this love? Just curiosity? Budding antagonistic feelings, yet to come? Michael couldn’t name it. He didn’t care to, either - he just knew he wanted you in some way.

What did people like? Michael’s vague memories of Judith and her various boyfriends came to mind. She seemed to like the notes they left her - but Michael couldn’t write, nor was he interested in doing anything physical - another thing he knew she liked.

Gifts. Gifts are the way to a person’s heart, Michael recalled, something he remembered hearing in an old television commercial. Michael had no money, but that was no issue; he had his ways of getting what he wanted. The way his chest felt tight with agitation and restlessness whenever he thought about you became too much for him to deal with, and Michael began to make a move.

You begin coming home to the strangest items left on your doorstep. One day it was an overripe baby pumpkin, a few days later, an old hairbrush. The most alarming of the “gifts” was the wristband that had gone missing from your room a week prior. “Should I call the police?” was the first question that came to mind.

As the days drew on, Michael grew impatient. You seemed more scared of his gifts than you seemed happy or pleased - was it really that bad? Usually, he felt entertained when he knew that he was scaring someone; playing tricks on their minds and letting them know they’re being watched and followed against their will was a forte of his, but he didn’t feel this way when it came to you. He didn’t want you to run from him, he wanted you to run to him.

Michael’s desire to have you grows too strong to resist one day in the middle of October. Halloween was approaching, the itch to maim was growing too strong too, and Michael knew that sooner or later he wouldn’t be able to have you like he wanted if he didn’t act soon. His idea? Chill in the coat closet of your hallway until you came home, of course. 

The way his hands gripped your shoulders as you opened the door to hang your jacket up was enough to shock you into silence. 

What the fuck? Should I call the police? What the fuck! Your head felt as if it were about to burst from fear - until the gentle shake of his head caught your attention - no. 

You flinched awfully hard as his hand reached into the front pocket of his coveralls. You recognized him from somewhere - the mask, the height - the news? It didn’t matter now, though - he was probably going to kill you. 

Slowly, he pulled out a small object him his pocket, his fist opening to reveal that it was a small hair bow - blue tartan. It wasn’t yours, of course, but it was in surprisingly good condition, for something that he’d been keeping in the pocket of his filthy suit. He shook his head no once again, signaling that he - apparently - wasn’t going to harm you. He slowly, timidly, if you dared call it that, held the bow out to you - the tilt of his head asking something he wouldn’t speak.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba caught feelings for you the second he first laid eyes on you - and when Bubba falls for someone, he falls hard.

You were the adult child of a family that lived some bit away from the Sawyer’s house, and while you weren’t particularly close with them or anything or the sort, your lot got on fine with theirs and there were never any issues during your brief interactions with them.

Drayton gets on him much more frequently now about being so careless and absentminded, but Bubba couldn’t help it. His mind was constantly preoccupied with thoughts of you - the nice-looking, kind neighbor that had his heart caught in a trap.

Unfortunately for him, Bubba’s never felt this sort of thing before. Sure, in the past he’s… had to deal with a few victims that he couldn’t help but fine particularly attractive, but he’s never felt such warm feelings towards someone before. That, combined with the fact that he never really learned about this sort of thing, left Bubba absolutely clueless about what to do.

When would he see you again? How would he act? Should he even find a way to tell you how he feels? How does he even feel? He doesn’t know how he should even begin to approach you about his feelings, in the instance that he actually gets the chance to.

Any time in the past that he’s interacted with you, he was always either completely silent, or a stuttering, blubbering mess as his shyness left him unable to calm down. This led to him almost dreading interacting with you - he always made such a fool of himself!

Seeing you was inevitable though, as Bubba soon learned. Despite his family’s usual desire to keep to themselves, Drayton had apparently, for whatever reason, invited your family over to the Sawyer residence. While your little lot wasn’t allowed inside - Grandpa’s a bit under the weather, as Drayon put it - the weather outside was pleasant enough for conversation on the porch.

Bubba couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He hadn’t actually had the chance to be this close to you, before - were you wearing perfume/cologne? You smelled so good, so sweet - and you looked sweet, too. Bubba could tell you were intimidated by him, but who wouldn’t be? But despite your obvious unease, you were still kind to him, to his brothers - that was the straw that broke him. You two barely knew each other yet you had his heart in the palm of your hand - he wanted to be with you.

When no one was paying attention, Bubba approached you. His hand reached out to tug on your sleeve gingerly, and he gestured for you to come. He wanted to show you something.

After the initial awkwardness of him trying to convey that he wanted you to follow him, the both of you made your way to the back of the house for more privacy. Rounding the corner, your eyes fell upon a small, almost-dead patch of wildflowers that was spread out amongst the tall grass and weeds. 

Bubba, noticing your interest, quickly reached down and plucked one of the flowers, a wilted, pale buttercup, and before you could question him, he quickly stuck his arm out, offering the flower to you as his empty hand scratched at the back of his head awkwardly.

If Bubba could, he’d ask if you liked flowers. What if you were allergic? What if you didn’t like flowers? What if you thought he was weird, or ugly, or strange or something? What if you laughed at him, or even worse - screamed? His head was full of emotions - excitement, love, uncertainty, fear - but they were all shut down when he felt the gentle brush of your hand against his larger, rough one as you took the flower, a gentle smile on your face as you softly thanked him.

Bubba felt his heart skip with glee, and before he could stop himself, he found himself reaching his arms out and pulling you into the tightest hug he could muster without harming you. He’d made sure he wore his nicest outfit - no bloody apron, no stained undershirt - a nice button up, and his favorite tie instead. He wanted to impress you! 

Bubba became deathly aware that you were stiff in his embrace though, and with a blubbering mess of nervous whimpers he pulled back from you, his hand finding its way to your face so he could brush his fingers against your cheek, making sure you were okay - that he didn’t hurt you. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with you.

He didn’t know how else to convey his crush. He knows of kissing - he’d seen it on the old TV they used to have, but Drayton said that kissing was something you only did when you were in a relationship with someone - but you two weren’t. Surely it would be inappropriate for him to kiss you now!

The look on your face was unreadable to Bubba. A slight curve on your lips, warm eyes - but no smile. How did you feel?

He was about to let go of you completely and flee into the house out of shame, but you stopped him by opening your mouth and speaking your true feelings.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Having the kid of a Slasher. These have vastly different blurbs though so they have lil’ titles! 

Includes: Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers 

Warnings: Freddy’s one includes the kidnapping of a child by their father (A child killer, to boot). Other then that, what can I say? This is Slasher fanfiction, Freddy is himself. Michael’s is pretty humorous though... :D

Notes: 

I really wanna build on these some more! I plans to write a oneshot where Michael and reader eventually get ‘back together’ sort of? And a prequal to Freddy’s where Maggie visits her half brother and Luke questions her and reader about their father. 

Note: Freddy is going to call you mummy if you are woman, man, or gender neutral. And I’m going to spell it the American way because it just seems more fetishized that way and more like the wrapped up Egyptian dead people the English way. I am not sure how you would accidentally have his child if you have a penis, but who knows in this universe. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

~~~

Freddy Krueger: Luke // ‘Protecting your child from his father’

“Hey! How are you?” I call, breathless to the receptionist -Judy, - sitting in school office. She looks up and a haze of confusions crosses her pretty green eyes, and I try not to worry. There could be any reasin this woman is confused to see me that is unrelated to my son’s whereabouts. Deciding not to wait for her to tell me how she is because the anxiety in me clenches around my heart like a boa constrictor, I paste on a bigger smile ask. “Where’s Luke? He didn’t come out when the bell went.”

Maybe he’s in the sick bay, or… I don’t know. What other acceptable reason could there be that my son is not here with me?

Don’t think like that.

My smile must look stiff and sharp at this point, because Judy starts very slowly. Cautious. “… Hi-His Dad picked him up, Miss L/N.”

Dad? My nose scrunches up in utter confusion. I’m absolutely certain that I had Bradley taken off the register as Luke’s secondary emergency contact- I stood right here with this woman for half an hour figuring out how to do that. And besides, why would my ex-husband pick up my son from school and not tell me? Luke doesn’t have a-

His… his Dad? Freddy couldn’t have. I’ve been giving Luke Hypnocil pills since he could take them, crushing them every night and stirring the dust into his dinner. I haven’t heard any signs of Freddy for 8 years and a couple months. Let’s set aside that crazy, ridiculous theory for now. Because its impossible! Even if he did want to do something with Luke, he would try to get to him through his dreams, yes? It would be too risky to come on out here and take him from school. That’s crazy.

“What?” Where is my goddamn son? Who took him?

“U-um, uh. A uh, ‘Fredrick Krueger’ took him about an hour ago. His name was in the system, and they looked a bit alike in the eyes, s-so I-we just assumed it was okay.”

For a moment I think I’m going to die on the spot. Then I spit out. “Is this a joke?!”

Its too horrible, too unthinkable to be true. I’ll say it again; I haven’t heard from Freddy in nearly a fucking decade, and that’s the way I was hoping it would stay. What is this.

“N-No, Miss L/N.”

“Did he say where they were going? Did Luke say anything?” My baby. Starting to breathe heavily now from the effort of staying calm and thinking too fast for a clue as to where my son is and what the hell is going on. Did this chick even look at Freddy’s face?! This school is just handing babies over to suspicious men who look like they should be in the burn ward of the intensive care unit?!

“Miss L/N- “This woman is scared, I know, and anxious as she looks with wide eyes all around me instead of at my eyes but she’s really grating on my nerves. A maniac has my son and she is going to give me all the information she has.

“Do you remember your dreams last night? Or the last couple nights?” That’s how assume Freddy got in the system, manipulated Judith here to do it for him. Maybe he left a clue.

“My- my dreams? Um-mm, well I… “My hand slams down on the bench between us so hard the pen attached to a string attached to the early leavers clipboard jumps up a little. My hand shakes, and as she quickly recalls her dream I read through the most recent entries on the board for the early leavers. Right at the bottom, in tiny handwriting that does not belong to Luke is the name Luke Krueger under student and ‘Doctors appointment’ under ‘Reason for leaving’, and a smiley face. I take a deep breath and turn back to Judy with eyes of molten lava. She fumbles with her glasses, on a string around her neck. “I-I remember a junk yard in a couple… “That’s it.

Already flying to the door, I call back. “Have some child’s school exit forms ready for me tomorrow Judy; Goodbye.” And promptly, I fling the door open and run for hell and leather for my car.

~~~

“LUKE!” I scream into the old junk yard, hands shaking but courage as strong as an ox. Nothing, not even death itself will stop me from saving my kid. Looking around every corner and trying to listen to any sound over the loud beating of my heart in my ears, I speed walk around, heading towards the burnt down old shed, yelling for Luke every 2 seconds because I’m deluded into thinking any second he might hear e, and come running out safe to me. When the horrible thing, the shed, comes into view, I feel sick. Its still burnt up, and rust litters the ground around its four walls but its standing.

They’ll be in there.

Forcing myself ahead, because I never wanted to see this, the place Freddy was killed -Because it’s something so terrible. Not because I give a fuck about what happened to Freddy, - I open the door and immediately there they are. It takes me a second to catch my bearing’s, because this place has such an awful feeling and I’ve never been in a situation like this and I don’t know what to do, and because theirs a child killer with his filthy hand on my 7 year old son’s shoulder.

“Luke?” My eyes soften as soon as they find his. Glancing from him to Freddy’s other hand to see if he has a weapon, especially that glove to find nothing, and back to him, I gesture for my him to come here. “Come over here, baby. Its okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, just frowns and whimpers, looking wearily up at the man who’s holding onto him and for an awful second I think Freddy’s going to pull a fast one on us and pull out a razor or something… but then one finger at a time he lets go of Luke and Luke rushes to me so fast that the force pushes me back a little when he reaches me, wrapping his little arms around my waist and digging his face, shaking so I’m well aware that he’s crying now, into my stomach. I drop to my knees and look him over thoroughly, searching for any indications that this ‘doctors’ appointment’ that he was taken for occurred, but theirs nothing.

A sick taste wells up in my throat as I realise this, and as Luke burrows into me again for more hugs and I wrap my arms around him I look back to the problem. “What-What’s this doctor’s appointment I read about? Just a cover?”

“Not in the slightest! But I thought we should probably wait for you before starting… Mommy. I got us a good deal- family pack!” With that, Freddy takes out a scalpel and grins madly. I tighten my grip on Luke. “Who should go first, eh?”

“Stay the fuck back.”

“Oh, I think not!” I gently tug Luke back as Freddy advances, wondering if it would be smart to make any sudden moves right now.

“I called the police!” God, I wish I had now. But I was too focused on getting here before something awful happened that I…

Forgot.

Oh my god.

He stops coming towards us, but then an evil, knowing smile creeps across his mouth. He tilts his head, calling my bluff. “No, you didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah I did!” So, I’m buying for time. Main objective: Save Luke. Leverage: Me. Freddy’s a being made completely up on vengefulness and anger at this point, and I escaped him. He hates that.

Stroking the back of Lukes head with my thumb in thought, I know what I have to do and make like him giving him a little, worried head kiss- but really whisper to him that our car’s in the carpark and my phone is in the passenger seat. He clutches me tighter. Oh, baby… I wish I could come with you.

“You called nobody. Don’t try to bullshit Daddy. Now, I think our little bundle of joy should go first, more fun for me! Little blast from the past, ey?” He takes another step towards us, causing me to jolt back violently from fear, because I’m so close to saving Luke and if Freddy makes any sudden movements, we both might be done for, and tats just unacceptable. That scalpel is unnecessarily big. Where the hell did he get a scalpel that big?! What is it for? Crocodile surgery?!

Luckily, we’re closer to the door then Freddy is -oopsie made on his part,- so when I let go of Luke he goes straight out the door and before Freddy can reach the door and slip out after him, and push myself hard against the door, slamming it closed. For a second everything is still, which is a scary thing when it comes to this killer, and I just sit there on the ground and watch his scary face just be still.

His eyes, though, expressive as they are, reveal how utterly furious he is.

Then slowly he looks down his chest at me, aiming that mad anger at me as his shaking hand grips the weapon so tightly that his knuckles go absolutely white. “You bitch.”

Michael Myers (RZ): Rachael // ‘Visitation’

“Morning Rache!” I exclaim, setting down cheerily on my 12-year-old’s bed as golden early morning light slips through her purple curtains and leaves stripes on my thighs. “It’s Sunday!”

“Why does it always have to be so early with him? Its not church.” She informs me, sleep thick in her voice as she pulls the doona up over her head and rolls over so her back is to me.

“He thinks very highly of himself.” That or this is when visiting hours are.

“I see that.”

“So… “Like I always do on Sunday, I put pluck the blanket away from her face to see her eyes are open and she’s already fully awake. She always is on Sunday morning, it’s because of what she knows is coming. I tuck some of her hair behind her early, and speak gently now, like always. “You wanna go see your Dad?” It always, always, always needs to be her choice. She always says yes, though.

For a moment this time, she pauses. Then deeply rolls her eyes and flicks the blanket back up over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright. We’ll head off in half an hour, then. Oh- maybe you can tell him about the awkward you got!” I exclaim, brightening immediately because my baby is so smart! Captain of her class, and she just got an award for doing well in maths! Her teacher even told me at parent-teacher interviews that she’s getting the work so much easier than any of the other students. This has been the same since she started Elementary school. Dunno where she got those brains from, but I like to believe if it’s me and not Michael. And I am so proud of her.

“Yeah, I will. Can you get out now so I can get changed, parent?”

“Whatever!” I exclaim cheerfully, like the immature one between us two that I am as I leave the room and shit the door behind me, heading to make her toast. She is more like Michael, in that regard. So focused and serious- I, on the other hand, have Goldfish brain.

Which makes a lot of sense when I ask myself ‘What made you think fucking the Shape of Haddonfield was okay?’ because then I remember ‘Big man, strong hands, big dick’ and I remember.

I’m a moron. Was, a horny moron. But no more! I am a mother now, and mothers don’t get horny! No, no. Ahahaha.

… But that doesn’t mean I regret having Rachael. No fucking way. She’s the mother-fucking light of my life, and I’ll have sex with Michael a thousand more times if that’s what it would take to keep her.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

… Ah, oh well. Toast!

~~~

When we get to Michael’s cell, Rachael goes straight over to the door and uses her foot to move the little stepping stool they keep right there, specially for her -well, I bought it and made them keep it there, but that’s just semantics,- and hops on so she can peer through the window to her father. I stay back a few feet with Dr Loomis, my jacket hung over my crossed arms. Because I don’t have anything in common with Sam Loomis at all, as we have previously discovered on these visits, I turn bluntly to him and ask, shamelessly. “So, how’s he going Doc?” Even though Michael’s condition hasn’t changed since he was six, that is what I ask.

Loomis offers me a crooked, humourless grin and explains that nothing has changed, but he did make Rachael a new mask. “Oh, that’s nice.” I say, although really, don’t think that’s nice. Does Michael think I have endless wall space for these things? I don’t want my home to look like his sanatorium cell. I have taste!

Hey, don’t judge me. The only way I can get through these visits is by being sarcastic and making jokes to myself.

And to Loomis, but he doesn’t really like me.

Probably because I make sarcastic jokes about his most dangerous patient.

Eh, oh well.

I turn back to Rachael to see her holding up her award to the window so Michael can read it, and after I lean to the left a bit to see inside the cell I see that he is doing so. He’s just sitting in his dressing gown on a desk chair at the other side of his cell- no wonder Rachael has to talk loudly!

He communicates through head shakes and nods, and sometimes even writes on a white board he always has set on his big -big mannnnnn. Oh jeez, the thirst is still strong, despite him now being an irritating part of my life… I have to get up at the ungodly hour of nine on a Sunday for this. Just to get a new stupid mask and stand back here with Doctor humourless, - lap, which I do concede, is pretty sweet. He doesn’t communicate that way to anyone else, as Loomis told me, except for with her.

Visitation usually lasts an hour and half, if Michael’s feeling ‘chatty’, And he definitely is today, so our visit bleeds into breakfast time so we join him -without a door between us and him,- for breakfast in the cafeteria. Rachael and I sit on one side and Michael and Loomis sit on the other. Mostly Rachael and I chat during this time, but Rachael looks to her father every now and then for his reaction.

“Hey mum, do you want the last pancake?” Rachael asks, eyeing the last fluffy breakfast food just as hungrily as Michael just after Dr Loomis gets up to go check quickly on another patient, leaving us as a ‘family’ for a little bit.

I pat my tummy. “Naw, I’m stuffed! Why don’t you and your dad share it.”

A little smile breaks across her little face, making me grin too. She’s so cute! She’ll always be cute, I don’t know if she’s 37, a pasty scientist and mildly mangled from experiments gone wrong, she’ll still be adorable. I’m sure Michael agrees. “Okay!”

As she goes off to get the pancake, I leap to take the chance alone to have a chat with Michael myself.

Or attack him.

Placing my elbow securely on the table between us, pointing at him, I squint. “Stop making her masks, Michael! Anything else, really!- We’ve had this talk before, multiple times. You know I have no wall space!”

He shoulders jump, like he silently chuckled at me, and my squint-greasy, just enhances.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

After a moment, he veeeeery purposefully shrugs those huge shoulders of his. He does know, he does. I knew it!

“Ooooooooh… “I nearly shake with annoyance, returning to my seat properly and glaring I hope subtly from my side of the table as Rachael returns and carefully tears the pancake in half for them. As she does, I watch and just sit and take great pleasure in the fact that they wont even trust plastic knives around Michael. Ha!

He see’s the too-happy glint in my eye and drinks all my juice.

Damn him.

[lo-lynx]

A brief defence of Selyse Baratheon (kinda)

CW: sexism

Spoiler warning: All A Song of Ice and Fire books

Now, I’m the first one to admit that Selyse Baratheon née Florent is an extremely unpleasant, filled with racism and internalised misogyny (see for instance Jon XI in ADWD… or any ADWD chapter she’s in… or any chapter she’s in generally). But nevertheless, I want to offer a brief defence of her, mostly because I’m tired of seeing her joked about in particular ways (both in story and in the fandom), specifically regarding her looks. This essay will most likely be shorter and have slightly less depth than my usual work, but I just wanted to get my thoughts about this out there.

When we’re first presented to Selyse in the prologue of A Clash with Kings she’s described thusly:

Lady Selyse was as tall as her husband, thin of body and thin of face, with prominent ears, a sharp nose, and the faintest hint of a mustache on her upper lip. She plucked it daily and cursed it regularly, yet it never failed to return. Her eyes were pale, her mouth stern, her voice a whip.

So, the reader immediately gets a description of her that’s not exactly flattering. In Storm of Swords we get a similar description from Davos’ fifth chapter:

Queen Selyse, a pinched thin hard woman with large ears and a hairy upper lip.

By A Dance with Dragons this has evolved to rumours of her having “a great dark beard” according Val (in Jon XI). Jon assures her that it’s only a mustache, but later Val counters:

You lied about the beard. That one has more hair on her chin than I have between my legs.

So, it seems pretty established that most characters think Selyse is ugly and notice this mustache of hers. In the Clash prologue that I started quoting, we also get one of the many mentions of how bad Stannis’ and Selyse’s marriage is:

Stannis had always been uncomfortable around women, even his own wife. When he had gone to King's Landing to sit on Robert's council, he had left Selyse on Dragonstone with their daughter. His letters had been few, his visits fewer; he did his duty in the marriage bed once or twice a year, but took no joy in it, and the sons he had once hoped for had never come.

So, Selyse’s marriage isn’t great, and she hasn’t been able to give her husband the sons he had wished for. Later, in Tyrion III, Littlefinger talks of Stannis’ and Selyse’s marriage like this:

Lord Stannis has spent most of his marriage apart from his wife. Not that I fault him, I'd do the same were I married to Lady Selyse.

So, further confirmation of the unhappy marriage, and further insulting of Selyse (probably of her looks, though it’s not made entirely clear). Then in ASOS Davos IV:

The throne is mine, as Robert's heir. That is law. After me, it must pass to my daughter, unless Selyse should finally give me a son.

My point with all of these quotes is basically to prove two things:

1)    Selyse is continually described as ugly, with prominent ears and a mustache.

2)    It’s continually pointed out how she hasn’t been able to give Stannis the sons he wants (one could of course argue that this is hardly just her fault…)

This, I argue, essentially makes her a failure as a woman in Westeros (and to a certain degree in our world).

As I’ve written on numerous occasions before, the gender norms of Westeros are very restrictive, and those who break them are generally punished. Based on how much different characters comment on Selyse’s, and other character’s, looks, beauty ideals seem to be part of those gender norms. We can see that Selyse’s body, particularly her ears and mustache, makes her ugly in many people’s eyes. Her body and looks doesn’t confirm to the norm, even less so the ideal. Researcher Denise Malmberg describes how the normative body in contemporary Western society is defined what it is not, for instance too fat, too tall, too short etc. I’m pretty sure we could add hairy and having prominent ears to the list of things an attractive body should not have. As Malmberg points out, women who are not seen as attractive, who aren’t sexualised, is in some ways seen as less of a woman. They’re not womanly, not feminine, not a proper lady. I also find it interesting that Selyse’s mustache in particular is pointed out so often. To me, it immediately brings associations of so called “bearded ladies” who often figured in the “freak-shows” of the 19th century and have remained in the public imagination ever since. As for instance researcher Clare Sears have pointed out, such shows often included people who in some ways broke gendered (and racialised) norms of embodiment, and in that way policed the borders of gender norms (2008). By showing for instance bearded ladies as “freaks” it became apparent to the public that having such a body was unacceptable. I’m not saying that GRRM purposely drew on such history when describing Selyse’s mustache, but I think the description of her looks have a similar effect; that is to show what is unnormal.

 When it comes having children, loads of feminists and feminist researcher have written about motherhood’s significance for womanhood, for instance this is something Denise Malmberg mentions as well. Malmberg writes that a “normal” woman is expected to become a mother, and a woman who doesn’t have children is therefore exempt from true womanhood (this is also something I explore in this essay about disability and gender in ASOIAF). Authors such as Jack/Judith Halberstam, Sara Ahmed, Anna Siverskog etc. have all also written about how having children are expected by the heterosexual life script that we’re all expected to follow (2005, 5; 2006, 85; 2016, 14). I did a quick search for scientific articles about childfree women and got an overwhelming amount of results, and to write a complete overview of the topic would take ages. But, for instance, a 2011 article about childfree women in Australia found that childless women were seen as “unnatural” and unwomanly” (Rich, Taket, Graham, Shelley 2011). So, I think that we can conclude, that in general in society, women are expected to have kids. To not have kids is unnatural and unwomanly. The fact then, that Selyse is seen as not capable of giving Stannis a son, contributes to her being a bit of a “failed” woman in the eyes of Westeros.

So, in conclusion, the way Selyse is described in story makes it clear that she fails to live up to the norms and ideals of womanhood. For that I feel sorry for her. That’s it, that’s the defence. As I pointed out in the beginning of this essay, that doesn’t make her less of a horrible person with her racism against Free Folk, and internalised misogyny. That part of her personality should be critiqued, and harshly so. However, her looks are not part of that. It should be possible to criticise her without making fun of her mustache or ears. Such jokes only contribute to already existing sexist views of how people of different genders should act and look.

 References

Ahmed, Sara. 2006. Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others. Duke University Press: Durham

Halberstam, Judith. 2005. In a Queer Time and Place. New York: New York University Press.

Malmberg, Denise. 2012. “’To Be Cocky Is to Challenge the Norms’: The Impact of Bodynormativity on Bodily and Sexual Attraction in Relation to Being a Cripple.” lambda Nordica, 17:1-2, 194-216.

Martin, George RR. 2011. A Clash of Kings. Harper Voyager: London.

Martin, George RR. 2011. A Storm of Swords. Harper Voyager: London.

Martin, George RR. 2012. A Dance with Dragons. Harper Voyager: London.

Rich, Stephanie., Taket, Anne., Graham, Melissa. & Julia Shelley. 2011. “‘Unnatural’, ‘Unwomanly’, ‘Uncreditable’ and ‘Undervalued’: The Significance of Being a Childless Woman in Australian Society”. Gend. Issues, (2011)28:226–247.

Sears, Clare. 2008. “Electric Brilliancy: Cross-Dressing Law and Freak Show Displays in Nineteenth-Century San Francisco”, WSQ: Women's Studies Quarterly, 36: 3-4, 170-187.

Siverskog, Anna. 2016. Queera livslopp. Att leva och åldras som lhbtq-person I en heteronormativ värld. Linköping: Linköpings universitet.

[contemporaryreflectiveblog]

Gender Identity within the art world

Gender identity is not a given, the sex you are assigned at birth does not determine your gender, the divide between masculine and feminine is a social constructed idea. I myself have struggled with understanding my gender and how I wish to express myself, I identity as Non-binary but I still believe there is more to my identity to which I do not understand. This is why it is important that within museum spaces artworks surrounding gender identity is very important and should be more included.

Judith Butler, a prominent theorist, views on gender are that sex does not determine gender as gender is neither essential nor biologically determined, but rather it is performative [1]. Moreover, Simone de Beauvoir suggests that “one is not born a woman but, rather becomes one”[2] though this could be suggestive for someone who was born assigned male at birth but then later transitions to become a woman, however there are many that view gender as something they are born with though they could have been assigned male they themselves has always known they are female.

Artwork on the theme of Gender identity I most connect with is photography, this raw expression of real people displays their gender identity. Photography is a very powerful tool is can either distort the world or reveal everything. For those whose gender and assigned sex is different this can be very powerful as for a lot of the community there are part of ourselves that we wish to change. This is the distortion, but expressing your gender identity can be very exposing. I often talk about topics surrounding gender and sexuality but rarely ever discuss my own but through seeing different artworks on this topic and making the discussion of gender identity more mainstream it has allowed me to explore my own and come to terms with it.

One photography who explores these ideas of gender identity is Asa Johanesson in a series called “The Queering of Photography”. These photographs are “rooted in a nonbinary thinking with a material logic focusing on questions of skin, pose, and measure”. Defining features that we associated with each sex is obscured. Many of the photos focus on people who present androgynously, by doing so gender becomes irrelevant and you focus on the beauty of portrait photography without thinking of beauty standards of men or women. One piece in this series that really resonates is the close up of the sculptured torso, the photograph cuts off where the chest is and there is drapery over the genitals so this sculpture could be either sex as it does not have a chiselled torso of the masculine man that is seen in sculpture nor does is have wider hips that women would have in sculpture to show fertility. Additionally, as the photograph is of a sculpture which often are depictions of Greek and roman myth, the God and Goddess often disregarded traditional gender and could change form.

In recent years more museums have put on exhibitions on the topic of the queer community showcasing artists and their struggles. Tate modern recently put on an exhibition showing the artwork of Zanele Muholi, A visual artist who documents and celebrates the lives of South Africa’s Black lesbian, gay, trans, queer and intersex communities. The 2019 Tate Liverpool put on an exhibition for Keith Haring’s artwork. Tate Modern gets over 5 Million visitors[3] each year whilst Tate Liverpool gets around 600,000 [4]. Having both these incredibly popular galleries display art by queer artists it helps to provide people with an insight to the community. Whilst also provide a more open queer space, somewhere the community can feel safe but not hidden. As historically queer spaces were created due to the persistent social, legal and sexual persecution of the LGBTQI+ community so they were forced to create spaces hidden from the police, this was often Gay bars[5]. But now they Same-sex relations are legal and all kinds of sexualities and gender identities are more widely acceptable more public spaces are needed. Also for those who are younger and exploring being able to see their identity represented in a public and open space is very important.

[1] Butler,J.,(1990) Gender Trouble, Routledge,London

[2] de Beauvoir,S.,(1997) The Second Sex, Vintage, London

[3] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-47711540

[4] https://www.tate.org.uk/about-us/history-tate/history-tate-liverpool#:~:text=More%20than%20600%2C000%20visitors%20a,European%20exhibitions%20of%20modern%20art.

[5] Branton,S., Compton, C.,(2020) 'There’s No Such Thing as a Gay Bar: Co-Sexuality and the Neoliberal Branding of Queer Spaces' in Sage Journals, Vol.35, Iss 1, 2021

https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/zanele-muholi

https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-liverpool/exhibition/keith-haring

[siancore]

A/N: This is a collab between @thematsaidwelcome79 and I. It details Rick's return to ASZ after six years of everyone thinking he was dead

Part 1: Prologue by Siancore

Words: 1,986

Warnings: Typical Zombie Apocalypse Violence; Blood; and Gore.

Read on FF.net

Read on AO3

Follow thematsaidwelcome on FF.net

The cool water slid down Rick’s throat. It hurt a little, as he swallowed too much at once; the reprieve felt almost foreign. He could not remember the last time he had been given something to drink. His captors liked to remind him that being an ingrate in their community did not go unpunished. It was not that Rick was ungrateful for the help, because he truly was. They had saved his life when he was on the brink of death. They had lifted him to safety, and, as they so bluntly put it, wasted valuable resources on him; resources that could have gone to someone else. Someone who would have appreciated the help. Someone who would have wanted to stay and work off the debt that they owed. But Rick Grimes did not want to stay. He wanted to go home to Michonne and Judith; he needed to go home to his family. He was not an ingrate, but rather, a man who wanted to be with his wife and daughter.

 That was almost six years ago. Six heartbreaking, lonely years. It crushed his heart just to acknowledge how long it had been. Not a single day passed where he did not miss his girls. Not a single day passed where he had not longed for them; where he wished he had done things differently. Where he wished he would have spent more time with them, and less time at the bridge. Where he hoped and prayed that they were safe. They had to be. He knew Michonne would do everything in her power to make sure they were.

 Judith. His precious child whom he swore to always protect. Whom he had hoped to be there with, every step of the way. His daughter who did not deserve this world she was thrust into. He missed her little smile. He missed the way that she felt in his embrace; how she looked at him with such adoration that it caused his heart to swell with pride, and hurt at the same time because all he ever wanted to do was live for her.

 Michonne. His heart ached for her, knowing that she most likely thought he had died. She had lost so much, too much. It saddened him deeply that he was putting her through the grief of losing yet another person she loved. He missed the way she felt wrapped in his arms. How her kisses breathed new life into him again and yet again. How she was smart and strong and wanted the best for their little family.

 Thoughts of them are what kept Rick going on those harsh days and those long and lonely nights. When he had first arrived, he was unconscious. He spent months in a coma, he was told. They had kept him alive and cared for him. When he had woken, he was disoriented and remembered nothing of what led to him being there.

 As time passed, he grew strong, regained his memories, and healed; he recalled seeing all of the people he had cared for. The ones who were long gone, and the ones who were still living. And then that explosion. The destruction of the bridge, and the sacrifice of his life, to save everyone else. When he was feeling particularly low, he would curse himself for giving so much. But then he would regain composure and realize he had done the right thing. He had saved them.

 Yet it was not lost on Rick that the cost to himself was great. Though his family was safe, they were without him, and he was without them. That is what fuelled him and his urge to leave the community. When he was well enough to work, they asked him to. Jadis asked him to. Her being allowed to stay, it seemed, was riding on Rick’s cooperation and willingness to toil and sweat as a form of recompense.

 He reminded her that he had a family back in Alexandria; this meant very little to her. He knew she was a selfish person, but this was another level of malice. He reminded himself that she should meet a swift end if ever he was afforded to opportunity to do so. With each failed attempt at escape; with each subsequent beating and imprisonment, Rick grew more determined to free himself of the walls of this prison dressed up as civilization. But he needed to be smart. They had locked him away for long enough, now he would convince them he was ready to join the workforce.

 Presently, he found himself being given food and water. He would play the grateful prisoner for a time, even agree to work their fields, until it was time for him to make his move. Jadis stood at the other side of the small cell and watched him. He chewed the food slowly, so he did not choke, and hoped it would be enough to give his some physical strength.

 “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life in here,” she said. He said nothing. It was the same message she delivered each and every time she visited. “There’s work to be done; debts to be paid, if you’re ready to do what’s needed without trying to get away, they will have you. They will let you out of this shithole.”

 Rick washed his food down with the water she brought with her. He then looked up and met her eyes. Determination rose in his aching stomach until it seeped through his tired bones and flowed through his veins. He cleared his throat and said, barely above a whisper, “I’m ready.”

…..

The sun was bright and it burned his eyes. Being locked away in the dark cell did not help to maintain his eyesight. It took a moment to adjust to being outdoors in that daylight again. A guard stayed with Rick while he went to wash up. The dirt and grime fell from his weary body and the cold water rejuvenated him. As he found his bearings, he remembered that the prison cells were near the agricultural fields, and the sprawling community was off in the distance.

 Rick slicked his long curls back, and ran his hand over his thick, mostly-white beard. He would not waste time visiting a barber, for half of the day was already gone. Instead, he chose to begin to work the fields. If he did that for a week or so, maybe the powers that be would be more lax with the security detail; maybe they would be fooled into thinking he was ready to repay them for their so-called hospitality and kindness.

…..

With each day that passed, Rick grew stronger. With each day, he was able to take note of the routines of the guards, and identify if there were any structural weaknesses in the walls: There were none, but off in one of the corners, the barrier was low. What he understood of this community was that it was part of a larger network. No one told him where he was in the world; no one told how far he was from home. It was something of a security measure against those whom the community had acquired.

 It was the end of another workday, a few weeks into his duties, and Rick was packing away the farming implements and chemicals he was using. The guards’ watchful eyes were never far away, so there was no way he could take one of the tools back to the cells with him. As he brushed his curls from his brow, he had an idea. It just might work, too, he mused, if he could get word to the other prisoners and gain their support. Upon approaching one of the guards, he put forth his request.

 “Do you think I’d be able to see the barber tonight?” asked Rick as he ran his hand through his mess of curls. “Didn’t realize how much of a bitch it was to let my hair get so long.”

The guard eyed him, and then nodded his head before saying, “Yeah. Don’t see why not. I’ll send him around after meal time.”

“Thanks,” said Rick as he ambled toward the mess hall to have dinner and spread a few whispers of dissent.

…..

The thing about the prison block in the community was that it was only guarded by two people at any time: One on the inside, and the other at the outer door. It was their own hubris about the fortitude of their infrastructure that accounted for this somewhat relaxed approach. Rick was going to use it to his advantage.

 He waited in his cell for the barber to come; upon their arrival, Rick played the willing punter in need of a cut and shave. He backed away from the cell door when the sentry unlocked it, and took up a seat on the stool the barber brought in.

 “Yell if you need anything,” said the guard as he closed the door and left the two men inside the cell. Rick noticed it was not locked. They would be foolish to lock someone in there with a prisoner. There was no way they would even entertain letting a prisoner go with a hostage. Luckily, Rick had no intentions of taking a hostage.

 “What’d you need?” asked the barber as he sharpened his straight razor on the leather strap attached to his bag.

 “Get rid of the beard,” said Rick. “But leave the curls, my wife loves them. She’ll want to run her fingers through them when I break free from this place and find her.”

 “Eh?” asked the barber.

 As quickly as he grew confused, Rick was on him and had freed the razor from his grasp. He used it to slice it across the barber’s neck. His limp body fell to the dusty floor as the people in the cells next to Rick started yelling and banging on their cages. The guards were back there in no time, one before the other. Rick rammed the freshly sharpened blade into the first guard’s stomach, before disembowelling him. He moved to the next guard and kicked him in the shin, effectively breaking his leg just below the knee. He cried out in pain and dropped to the floor before Rick took the razor from the other guard’s still-writhing corpse, and slit his throat. He searched their bodies for the keys and took one lot for himself, and gave the others to the other prisoners.

 Havoc ensued as everyone ran from the block to make their escape. They used chemicals on hand to fuel the fires; they set the cellblock and the crops alight. Some dashed for the fences and ran for the walls. Others wanted retribution for their captivity and were intent on doing as much damage as they could. It took some time before alarms were sounded and the police force came. Rick hid over near one of the tool sheds and watched the chaos unfurl. While the authorities were busy with chasing down escapees and extinguishing fires, Rick crept away to the quiet corner of the yard and scaled the fence in the place where it was lowest. 

 By the time the fires were put out and the prisoners were either captured or killed, Rick was running furiously through the abandoned streets of the outlying surrounds. He ran until his legs felt like they would give way. He ran until his lungs hurt. He ran until he could no longer smell the smoke from the fires. He ran until his body was so heavy that it collapsed to the soft dirt on the side of a sealed road. He willed himself to stand and figure out where he was. In the moonlight, he was able to see a sign that read: Welcome to Ohio. So much to discover…

[bathroombreaks]

gg 1x02 rewatch

the questions are from @pynkhues, you can find them here.

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

that scene where ruby and stan are watching sara’s game. i love them so much!!! the look ruby gives him just ends me every time, it’s peak heart eyes. and sara answering back that no, they’re not winning is hilarious!!

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

no scene really missed the mark, i think?? but there’s some things that i thought were dumb and would like to talk about so i’ll just put them here: the girls should have just sold the collectibles themselves and given the gang the money. i know they didn’t remember for dumb plot related reasons but like... that’s no excuse, it’s stil dumb as hell. also the fact that annie took off her shoes because nancy wanted to keep the house clean and then immedeatly set them down on the dining room table!!!! that is not keeping things clean!!

3. This episode features Beth’s iconic! gamechanging! monologue! Do you think Rio was intending to kill the girls? And if so, at what point in Beth’s speech do you think he changed his mind?

yeah, absolutely, he was going to kill them. there was no reason not to?? i think he changed his mind when she talked about the hashtags?? it was completely dumb but also valid in a way. like, absolutely no one is going to start a hashtag because 3 women were murdered in a random home invasion but like it does bring up the point that at least the police would care about 3 suburban moms (especially when 2 are white) being murdered (way more than they would about someone who looks like him or one of his boys) and that’s more attention than he needs.

one note that doesn’t fit in anywhere else: i think maybe beth took the whole we have children thing she keeps doing from ruby?? ruby says it first when she decides they should ransom boomer and then again immediately when rio’s guys start breaking stuff. i think beth heard that and ran with it hahaha

4. This episode also introduces Marion to us! What do you think of her? And knowing how her story ends in 3.08, what do you think of her arc and her relationships with Boomer and Annie respectively?

uhhh i am conflicted. she’s a lonely old lady, i feel bad for her. but also she’s racist. i wouldn’t really condone robbing her. but also like they thought the options were rob her or die so i think beth should have taken the money. would they have gotten caught? probably, yes. but they would be alive!! but yeah coming back to marion, i really dislike the fact that annie was cool with eating with her and talking about her grandkids while ruby did all the work and then sought out a relationship with her all the while knowing she’s racist and only ended that friendship when marion personally betrayed her. it’s like that line from community, except modified, y’know: i can excuse racism, but i draw the line at lying to me. i don’t like it. and i don’t think they did enough to at least try to explore that side of it?? we got comments from ruby in 1x02 and then 3x08 but not much else, at least not that i remember. idk, i think at best it’s insensitive of annie not to consider that maybe her black best friend wouldn’t like that she’s friends with a racist woman, even if she’s a lonely old lady??

and when it comes to her dynamic with boomer. boomer really does like her and that’s sweet but he’s an asshole who was taking advantage of her and robbing her blind. it’s yet another case of a woman coddling a man. i like that in the end she stopped coddling him and forced him to do the right thing. i don’t really feel much one way or the other i guess?? we explore the mother figure coddles man-child dynamic with judith and dean too so i don’t think the show really loses anything by losing the boomer/marion dynamic.

5. Ruby has her only (so far at least) direct interaction with Rio in this episode! What do you think of that dynamic in this episode, and where would you like to see it go in the future?

first i wanna say that it’s very dumb that he and his boys somehow managed to walk in and sit down without her noticing. and i loved that she was so brave, going up to him. i guess i don’t have much to say?? she still seemed pretty scared of him in 2x10 and i don’t think that’s changed at all in season 3. i’d love to see how they’d interact now?? but i think it’ll probably be more of that. i would love for the girls to reach a point where they realise that he’s not going to murder them, because i’d love to see what kind of whacky, “no drugs up my butt“ type comments ruby would say then lolol

6. How do you think Beth and Annie got Boomer into the treehouse?

obviously magic. or one of them got up there, threw down some ropes, which they tied around his middle and then they pulled him up the slide with their amazing combined upper body strength. i know everyone emphasises that you can’t miss leg day, but beth and annie are all about arm day, clearly

7. This episode seems ambiguous about Greg and Nancy’s roles in Ben’s life up to this point. How long do you think Greg and Nancy have been together, and how close do you think Ben is with them at this point?

i have no idea. they did not explain this at all.  i guess they must have been married for at least like 2.5-3 years now?? because if she’s doing ivf then they must’ve tried before that. enough time needs to have passed since they married that they’d want kids, which i think would be at least like a year, maybe?? and then enough time for them to try and not be able to get pregnant and then do tests and start ivf. so yeah. 2.5-3 years.

edit: realised i didn’t talk about how close ben is with them. so... i have no idea what their custody agreement is like, but i assume annie is the primary caregiver and it’s more of a seeing each other on weekends and vacation type of thing?? either way, ben likes nancy and gregg. like i said, i think they’ve been together a good while so ben is used to nancy at this point, i think. and he probably thinks she’s sweet. because she is. and i think he probably does find annie’s scathing comments somewhat funny but he mostly goes along with it because he knows annie feels lonely without him, is jealous that gregg is much more put-together and has found himself a serious relationship and finds nancy’s comments off-putting and annoying. with season 2 in mind, i really don’t think nancy means anything by them, but i mean, it’s hard not to be annoyed when someone constantly accidentaly implies you’re not clean.

8. Do you think Beth ever went back (or thought about going back) for Dean’s grandmother’s ring?

uhmmm. no. maybe when he asked about it looking all sad and stuff but after that, no. it’s done, there’s no point thinking about it. “you get what you get and you don’t get upset” and all that jazz.

9. What do you think Stan was thinking when he woke up to Ruby making all those lasagnas? What do you think he was thinking when he, Sara and Harry ate so much of it?

i actually don’t think they ate that much of it tbh?? i don’t see them wasting food. and ruby did at least like 6 trays of lasagna. i didn’t count but she had a bunch already made and then was making more so at least 6. i think at most they ate 1 between them. they might’ve given the other trays to neighbours or something i guess?? but i kind of figured it was more like a symbolic thing and that they kept the rest of the trays in the freezer or something. and i think he probably figured she was back to freaking out and not believing that they were winning. you never know what happens, she could get sick or in a car accident or something. because what else could it be?? i mean if there wasn’t a gang wanting to kill them, i feel like the logical reason why you would do that would be if you were freaking out about your own mortality for non-gang related reasons

10. Has Beth ever seen a dick pic before?

maybe?? if annie got an unasked for dick pic i think she totally would show it to beth and ruby and make fun of the guy. but i don’t think she’s ever gotten one.

11. Is Greg still in love with Annie at this point in the series? Or does he fall in love with her again later in the season? Or not at all?

i have a hard time believing that gregg is love with annie at all?? he’s very in love with the idea of her, y’know the cute eyebrows and stuff, but i don’t really buy that he loves her. and like he needs to have been with nancy for years now at this point so if he’s still in love with annie that somehow makes him even more of an asshole in my eyes?? like i know he cheated. but it’s one thing if he cheated and fell back in love with annie (or thinks so, anyway) and then that didn’t workout and his wife has his kid so they decide to try and work through it, but it’s another thing entirely if he decided to marry nancy and start trying to have a kid with her while still (thinking he’s) in love with annie.

12. That! Hook! What do you think made Rio go back to Beth’s house? What do you think made him take a chance on her?

i think he decided to give her chance because she called him an idiot and he was intrigued by that (read, got a boner). and y’know all that stuff she said about p.f. chang’s and orange slices is true. and that is much easier to ignore than a guy who looks like him. and he figured he could take advantage of that and make that particular job a little easier this time.