#there is quite genuinely a high chance of my girlfriend committing murder if i make the pasta differently though 😆

[singsweetmelodies]

(strawberry pasta anon here)

i can promise you that it isn't a bad concept especially when pasta isn't exactly savoury,,, it's more uh plain? or just don't salt the water to cook pasta too much, so it is quite good

and love you too hah it's really nice to discuss cultural differences and experience an utter shock from it

HI AGAIN!! 😍💕 awww, you just make me smile so much, dear anon 🤗 and you're so right! i love hearing about different cultures and seeing people's reactions, hehe 🤭🥰 and about that pasta! so... 🙈 i always cook my pasta quite salty and very al dente, so i can't quite imagine NOT having it like that, to be honest with you. but there's a first time for everything, no? unless my girlfriend kills me for cooking crimes ofc 😆 then it's the first and last time, hehe xD

[houseofslash]

Angela Eugenia Christiansen (Templeton)

a complete-ish backstory for angela, my slasher oc. the timeline i have for her is tentative and i might play around with it a bit more, all i’m definitive about for her is that she’s somewhere in the mid-century period

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Angela Eugenia Christiansen Templeton

Born: December 2nd, 1940 to Mary and Peter Christiansen

Age: 28

Height: 5’5

Hair/Eyes: Blonde /Greenish-hazel

Hometown: Jacksonville, Florida

An only child born later in life to her parents (who considered her conception and birth miraculous), she was doted upon by her mother and various other relations that came to call, being the only child in the family at the time (with all her cousins having reached an age bracket far enough away from her as to make meaningful connection difficult). Her father, already not particularly fond of his wife’s family or of being sociable, spent long hours locked away in his office, where Angela was forbidden to go. “Sorry, Angie, Daddy’s busy,” was a common refrain of her childhood. Peter really did love his daughter dearly, he just didn’t know how to express it, and had long since given up the hope of children long before she was born. He worked hard as a way to show his affection, made money to keep her in nice clothes and buy her nice things. Angela often wondered what was wrong with her, when everyone else seemed to like her so much, but her own father wouldn’t give her the time of day. Upon later reflection, she agrees she has daddy issues because of this. 

Upon reaching school age, she found it easy to put on a gregarious face and attract others to her; as her mother told her, everybody wanted to be friends with a pretty child who smiled and laughed all the time, even when she didn’t feel like smiling or laughing. The attention felt too good to not keep doing it, however. Eventually, she collected a gaggle of girlfriends, all similarly well-heeled and pretty, who giggled over the same boys and attended the same parties. For most of her adolescent years and into high school, she was content, growing into an amiable and eager to please young adult. 

By the time her senior year of high school rolled around, some of that contentment had faded. She was realizing, slowly, that she might want more from life than a secretary job, a husband, and a house to keep, like her mother and most of her friends talked about. That slowly burgeoning doubt wasn’t enough to impel her to apply to college, or to keep her from accepting (with everyone in her life’s strongly-voiced support) when she was proposed to by a local banker’s son with wicked eyes and a razor-sharp grin, Richard Templeton. 

Her father died when she was twenty-one, a year after she married Richard, from a sudden, devastating heart attack. Neither she nor her mother ever really recovered from the loss, since despite the slight dysfunction they all really did love each other, and Mary died less than two years later.

She spent the next ten years as Richard’s housewife, which she quickly realized meant his live-in maid and cook. At first they were friendly and even loving with each other, but as the honeymoon phase ended and they realized they really had no idea who the other person they had committed their life to was, they drifted apart. Eventually Richard was taken in entirely by his workplace environment of toxic masculinity and flagrant abuses of power, which carried over into his home life and how he treated Angela. She was never abused physically, but he did eventually become emotionally and verbally abusive. 

This was not what Angela had been promised her life would be like. As she tells Richard, “I did everything right.” But it still wasn’t enough to make her happy. 

The last straw came the day Richard came home, already drunk, and cornered her in the backyard as she was hanging out the laundry, and yelled at her for not having it done already, since he wanted to wear a particular shirt out with “the boys” that night, and it was currently in the wash. Angela, already annoyed since he’d specified what he wanted done that morning, snapped at him that he could wear a different shirt. He backhanded her across the face, his wedding ring breaking open the skin over her cheekbone, and sent her staggering. He snarled at her to never talk back to him like that again, and to dry the damn shirt already. 

Her head ringing with the aftershocks, Angela nearly collapsed. It was in that moment that she spotted by the toolshed an axe, left out. She didn’t think as she stood up, moved to the toolshed, picked up the axe, and turned to go inside. She found Richard in the living room, taking his jacket off while muttering to himself. He didn’t have a chance to turn around and ask her what she was doing before she raised the axe and brought it down with a meaty wet crunch into the upper part of his back. 

After she finished killing him, still high on power and adrenaline, Angela went about staging the scene. She wouldn’t do well in prison, she knew, and now she had plans forming in the back of her head, floodgates that she hadn’t known existed were opened; a new path presented itself. She’d do anything to feel that powerful again, to take that power from those that abused others. She couldn’t put this new notion into action if she were arrested for murder in the first degree. It took nearly an hour, but through working feverishly and rehearsing the lines she assigned herself as well as she could, she set the scene quite effectively for a home invasion gone bad. Fingerprints wiped from the axe, valuables removed from torn-out drawers and flushed. The final touch was to remove all suspicion from herself. Placing the axe on the floor with the glittering edge pointed up, she deliberately forced herself to slip and fall backwards on it. The large lot their house sat on kept any neighbors from hearing her scream. One genuinely agonized call to the police later, and Angela closed her eyes to wait. Either this worked, or maybe she could make a plea deal, get out early on good behavior. 

It worked. No one could believe that Angela, sweet Angela, could possibly have murdered Richard. The scene really did appear to be that of a burglary gone south, especially the brutal axe wound poor Mrs. Templeton sustained trying to run away. 

The police chief, a personal friend of the Templetons’, was especially helpful in removing all suspicion from Angela, since he could personally attest to the “happy marriage” the two shared. 

Angela was happy to give a witness statement, to sniffle and cry through saying she didn’t really have much to do with her husband’s business, that she hadn’t seen the men’s faces because they were masked, that they made off with some of the valuables in the house before getting into a vehicle she hadn’t seen and taking off. Once she built her story, she was careful to stick to it. Within a week, she was formally cleared of all suspicion, and the gossip columns were all sympathy for poor Widow Templeton. She was allowed to leave the hospital soon after that, and laid low until Richard’s funeral was taken care of and the commotion died down around her.

After that, she sold much of their belongings including Richard’s car and their house, packed up what she wanted to keep, and decided on a whim to roadtrip out to California to start a new life. She returned to using her maiden name. The first day she was out on the road, she stopped at a motel to buy a map and ask about renting a room for the night. The manager was very unhelpful, openly ogling her and making inappropriate comments. That high feeling returned, flooding Angela’s veins with a glimmering wicked desire. The next day, a maid found the manager dead on the floor behind his desk, his eyes gouged out with his own desk scissors, gutted like a pig. 

She’s aware she can’t just kill everybody who’s ever rude to her. That’ll get her caught, and she’s already come so far! She determines, however, that as she makes her way across the country, not to stay in one place for too long. So that if something were to happen, it wouldn’t be traceable to her. 

-

Internally, Angela still longs for acceptance, since the recent events have led her to second guess every amount of love she’s ever gotten. Did her mother and relatives really love her, or did they love the idea of her? The concept of her they’d created in their heads, that Angela herself let them create?

She loves as deeply as she hates, longs to love and be loved. She tried tirelessly for ten years to love Richard and to make him love her. Despite her proclivity towards violence, Angela really does have an enormous amount of love to give. She wants to give it, wouldn’t mind taking care of a partner again, but doesn’t know if she can trust like that anymore. 

She doesn’t know who she is, but if she can’t discover who she is, she isn’t afraid to forge herself anew, by any means necessary. 

Random Facts: 

-She likes animals of all kinds, and has a fondness for small children.

-An absolute sweater hoe. If you give her an article of your clothing that’s a bit big on her and soft, you’re not getting it back 

-Has a quick wit and a sterling sense of humor, surprisingly easy-going and quick to laugh among friends or those she trusts

-Has a genuine need for glasses, but it’s not severe enough to need them all the time, and she prefers not to wear them

-Develops faint freckles when out in the sun for longer periods of time