#eat the peas gang represent

[mo-ok]

The duality of peas man

[hellhoundmaggie]

Aw thanks crossy lady!

I was a super-picky eater as a small kid because of all the autism. Even now my mom keeps bringing up how I would only eat 5 foods when I was 5 years old (IIRC cheese pizza, ice cream, bananas, yogurt, and cereal). Now my parents are really impressed with how adventurous I am compared to them. (It is not difficult. They are Boomers and have not moved very far beyond the foods of their childhood.) But even now I will tend to only reach for ham, citrus, or most seafood if there aren't any good alternatives. I often need to eat my fruits and veggies mixed with something creamy or sugary or savory, and I don't do too well with spicy -- jalapeños are usually too much unless the seeds are removed. I also don't like coconut because of the texture; coconut milk is yummy. I do enjoy strong cheeses with crackers or bread, a few unusual land meats -- one time I tried emu, which tastes a lot like beef -- some sushi (mmm tuna), lots of lettuces, and ethnic foods with mild spices. The main thing I’m picky about is food combinations. Salad with blue cheese or Parmesan? Exquisite. Salad with cheddar cheese? I’d rather starve. Peas and carrots go together, but let either or both of them touch mashed potatoes on my plate and I’m gonna cry.

e: I forgot about the time I had grilled freshwater eel in Japan. That’s a “weird” food to most white Americans, but honestly it shouldn’t be. It was really tender and paired well with the sweet and tangy sauce. It’s kind of like an East Asian-y barbecue brisket, if you’ve had that.

So I'm going to answer this for three of my main fandoms these days: Star Wars (specifically The Bad Batch), Stardew Valley, and Scarlet Hollow. I don’t need these characters to grant me wishes in return— I’d try their foods just for the sake of trying them. First up, the easy one:

I would trust Tech The Bad Batch's food opinions the most because he is autistic too. I don't know how similar our palates and food tolerances actually are, but I'm certain he'd give me a full breakdown of any dish's flavor profile, texture, spice level, etc. That's really reassuring when you have restrictive tastes! The main difficulty is that all the foods in the Galaxy Far Far Away are different from the ones I know, so I’d have trouble understanding a lot of his descriptions. For example, what does a fried nuna leg actually taste like? Is it like the turkey legs at the Renaissance Fair and the Disney parks, or does it just look like them? Now for the tricky ones:

Stardew Valley...really not sure. Maybe Harvey? He probably has a pretty mild palate, plus he’d get me to eat more fresh and nutritious stuff.

I also trust Vincent and Jas because they’re kids. If they like it, it probably won’t go against my palate. I trust my husband Shane only conditionally, because he seems to have a higher spice tolerance than me.

For Scarlet Hollow…Honestly, I think I’d trust most of the characters. I mostly like Southern American food that isn’t fish, and that’s the main cuisine represented in the game. I hope one day I get to have a biscuit as tasty as the one Winnie serves at her diner… “butter suspended in a thin matrix of dough” sounds right up my alley. Maybe some characters like spicy too much for me, but there doesn’t seem to be any spicy food to be had in Scarlet Hollow. But the character I trust the most is another member of the Autism Gang:

The player character’s cousin Tabitha only likes 3-4 foods, and they’re all things I enjoy. She is never going to offer me something I couldn’t handle. Only the safest of safe foods from Tabby!

Anyway, I’ve decided not to tag people in these tag games anymore. I always forget someone and I don’t want anyone to feel left out. Do this if you want to, don’t if you don’t!

I thought, I could create a tag game out of my current food choice to waste our times and have some fun 🤩🫶🏼

Which character could convince you to eat something you don’t like if they promise to satisfy a wish in return?

No pressure tags, only to join fun:

@motte-the-goblin @feral-ferrule @isthereanechoinhere96 @techhasmjolnir @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @nika6q @thora-sniper @vrycurious @freesia-writes

… and others please join, if you like, tagged or not 🫶🏼

The background story bad batched:

(Tech mode:) Today I managed to realise that I may have an extraordinary taste. Maybe strange is a better description or even unenjoyable?

I think Echo would hate it (and maybe my tooka in the background of the 3rd picture because of hair, or he‘d love it because of cuteness? I can’t tell).

Stop scrolling, if you don’t want to see my tooka (named Miyuki) and my kind of today dinner (peas, raws and some special cheese (Ribeaupierre, Grienkenschmied and something from Allgeau)

So if you’re still here – enjoy my strange food choice and Miyuki beeing cuddle floof in the background 😂 Should I draw these frames? Let me know 😁

It was… edible 🤓

[broadway-heere-i-come]

Notes I Took While Re-Watching One Penny

Collin has an older brother who dates a lot of girls

Collin has a cousin who reads too many spy books and bought weed from Trevor(?) (13 mins)

Dylan is ridiculously well groomed compared to Collin. Is hair is cut clean and there's barely any dirt on his face.

Dylan is intuitive and manipulative (not in a bad way). He saw before playing that the guy was taking the pea out, had to quickly think of the best way to get the most money out of that fact, and had to actually keep track of where the pea was in order to call it out. (17 mins)

Fanfic idea: Dylan breaking down and apologizing to Collin after the pea game, Collin comforting him

Collin's brother looks like he's in his 30s

Collin has a newspaper photo of I think an owl on his tent wall

Chekov's generator

All of the abandoned empty houses. What if they made them housing?

Fic idea: One of them fantasizes about making one of those houses into their home while working

"You're just gonna strap it to your bike?" The bike is Dylan's, but Collin rides it? (21 minutes)

One half of Collin's hoodie is longer than the other, and they're different patterns. Are they two hoodies sewn together? The sleeves look the same.

Chekov's gun (24 mins). Also Chekov's gun earlier at the pea game.

Expensive piece of bacon sitting on the table at home?? (25 mins)

"D+C" on the tub of scrap metal

Marble Hornets tunnel (26 mins)

"I think it's a ladies' gun or something."

Collin's box of donuts says "1 Only (I Mean It)"

Sometimes the color grading changes fro shot to shot (more brown to more blue)

Why the fuck do restaurants care about people eating their trash???

Scenes of Dylan looking at the penny: 2

Why tf did he keep that penny? What does the penny represent?

Does Dylan('s actor) have pierced ears?

Dylan doesn't make eye contact with Jordan. Is that just bc he likes her, or is he just that way with people he doesn't know that well?

Did they completely abandon the corner organization plan, or did they just realize that it wouldn't be enough to get them out of the Cove? What about all the people who benefitted from it? Maybe they just aren't taking the 10% cut anymore?

Shepherd's Cove

Is Collin just third-wheeling in the back of Jordan's car

Sometimes the ADR is super obvious and doesn't totally line up (esp in Dylan and Jordan's scenes together)

Dylan has a ton of books and records in his tent

So they killed Dylan's mom because she saw them rob somebody

Gang leader asks Tristian if he wants to be a street rat his whole life. Tristian calls Dylan a street rat later.

"Right through the heart" but she didn't die right away?

Professor's name is John Allen

Dylan's aunt's name is Rose

Of fucking course Jordan has a hot younger cousin who looks like her

[haru-desune]

Grimmtober Day 31: The Robber Bridegroom

One of them noticed a gold ring on the murdered girl's little finger. Because it did not come off easily, he took an ax and chopped the finger off, but it flew into the air and over the barrel, falling right into the bride's lap.

--

A spooky one to celebrate the last day of Grimmtober! Content warnings for women in peril, cannibalism, murder, mutilation, and gore. This is a story of ATU type 955, and it is told like this:

Once there was a miller who had a beautiful daughter of marriageable age. He decided he would get her married to the first suitable groom who passed by. Soon there came a wealthy man who seemed of good sorts, and the betrothal was set. However, the man left the young bride with a deep sense of unease which she could not place.

At first, all was well, as they stayed apart, but eventually, the bridegroom asked the woman why she wouldn't visit him though they had been betrothed for several months. First, she tried to say that she did not know where he lived, but he told her he lived in the middle of the forest.

This only strengthened her unease, and she tried to excuse herself by saying she wouldn't know how to find it. But the Bridegroom said that he'd leave a trail of ashes for her to follow. Unable to put it off anymore, she agreed.

The time came for the young bride to visit the house, and she set off into the forest with a pocket full of peas and lentils, dropping one along the path as she walked. Eventually, she came across a lonely old house and she was filled with an even greater sense of dread.

As she entered a bird in a cage in the corner of the first room warned her away, telling her that she was in a murderer's house. She ignored the warning and ventured forth. Every room she passed was empty. Finally, she came to the cellar, where she found an old woman tending to a cauldron.

The old woman told her that this was a house of cabalistic robbers, of which her bridegroom was the leader, who were certain to have her killed and eaten if she married into the household. The old woman hid her away behind a large cask of wine and promised that she would help her escape that night, for she too was looking for a way to leave the house.

No sooner had she done this, than the door opened and the band of robbers returned, carrying a struggling young woman. They made her drink three glasses of wine, red, white, and yellow, and she fell down dead. They then stripped the body of jewels and finery, chopped her up, and cooked her to eat.

As they ate, one of the robbers noticed a gold ring on a finger of the body. It was not easy to remove, so he took an axe and chopped off the finger. But the finger flew into the air and landed in the lap of the bride behind the cask. The robbers searched the room but were unable to find the finger. Just as they were to check behind the cask, the old woman convinced them to give up the search, as the finger wasn't likely to run away in the night.

The woman then drugged the robbers' wine, and once they were all asleep, she and the young bride snuck away. The trail of ashes was destroyed, but the peas and lentils had sprouted enough for them to find their way out of the forest. The girl ran home and told her father everything.

On the day of the wedding, the bridegroom and his gang arrived, along with a large number of other guests, as the miller had invited all of his friends and relatives. At the wedding feast, each was asked to tell a story, and the bride sat through it all in silence. Then the groom urged her to tell a story of her own, so she told the story of her adventure in the robbers' house - but she framed it as though it was something she experienced in the dream.

After each sentence she spoke, the robber tried to say that it was only a dream, but then she mentioned the finger with the golden ring and pulled out the same finger as evidence. The robber went pale and tried to run away, but he and his band were caught by the rest of the wedding guests and turned over to the courts. He and his entire band were executed for their crimes.

How's that for a Halloween tale?! This was first published in Children's and Household Tales, though I can't imagine reading it to any child today. It certainly makes for a grim bedtime story (pun fully intended).

I was originally going to do Bluebeard for today's tale, which was in the original Grimm's fairytales. However, the Grimms took their version of the story out of subsequent printings as they felt it belonged more to the French storytelling tradition. It's really hard to find their version online - most of the ones I found are just Perrault's tale attributed to the Grimms - and it looks like you may only be able to read it if you're lucky enough to find it in print. The Jack Zipes translation is supposed to be quite good. I did find this cool blog post comparing the two though if you are interested.

The Robber Bridegroom has a lot of similarities to Bluebeard and other ATU 312 tales. However, it isn't the "sin" of curiosity (The blog I linked has a good point to make about that in the Grimm version vs the Perrault version of Bluebeard) that gets the girl in trouble. She finds herself in danger because she ignores her gut feeling and more explicit warnings. At the same time, it is her quick wit, and, importantly, the help of the old lady - another woman in a similar situation as the bride.

Looking at folklore and fairy tales through a feminist lens can be tricky. Many stories either fall into a "Woman as a prize/prop/victim" category or exist in a sort of grey area in terms of agency. Part of this is because of the tropey nature of the tales - you're literally working with archetypes and stock characters. In most cases, unless the character is the protagonist, they're not going to be particularly fleshed out. So it's no real coincidence that the Grimm stories that give the most agency to women are usually the ones where the women are the protagonists (this one, Seven Ravens, and even to an extent the original Cinderella for example).

There's also the time period to take into account. Most folk/fairy tales were meant to educate as much as they were meant to entertain. Your protagonists should have traits that you want your children to emulate. So the view of femininity and the woman's role in society at the time will play a part in how women are portrayed in folktales. (There are a lot of papers out there that explain it better than me). Looking at it from a modern lens, I see this as a story about a girl who got bad vibes about her finance, was proven right on further investigation, and managed to bring him to justice with the help of another victim of his abuse. What did it represent to women in the 19th century?

On a lighter note: I can't end the month of Grimmtober without my usual PSA for today's shitty parent - our buddy the miller. Would it kill you to do a background check on your future son-in-law? Rich dude comes up to your door, no background or history, lives in a spooky house in the woods with a bunch of friends, no apparent job to speak of, and you're like "yeah seems legit"? Maybe a house call, or asking around if anyone knows the dude, anything before marrying off your only child. YIKES, my man. Big Yikes.

Further Reading:

The Irresistible Fairy Tale: The Cultural and Social History of a Genre - Jack Zipes

Women Who Open Doors: Bluebeard and Horror - Chloe N. Clark

Not So Very Blue, after All: Resisting the Temptation to Correct Charles Perrault's "Bluebeard - Nicholas Ruddick

Women Who Run With The Wolves: Myths And Stories Of The Wild Woman Archetype - Clarissa Pinkola Estés

Bluebeard's Female Helper: The Ambiguous Role of the Strange Old Woman in the Grimms' "Castle of Murder" and "The Robber Bridegroom." - Daniela Hempen

Fractured fairy tales: German women authors and the Grimm tradition - Janine Blackwell

"Some Day My Prince Will Come": Female Acculturation through the Fairy Tale - Marcia R. Lieberman

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 52: Wind of Change

[You: meet me in the den in 10.]

You stood there wondering if you had time to make it to your bedroom to change before having to be in the living area.

[Matt: already here.]

You'd better not risk it. Ramsay was already stressed and on the verge of a snap.

[Ben: 10-4]

[Alyn: give me like 5 min.]

[You: better hurry or I will break your knee caps, Alyn!]

You examined the ugly curtains as you walked down the hall. Those would definitely have to go. What century were they even from? Gross.

You entered the den to find Matt and Alyn, arguing over baseball teams.

"What's up?" Alyn asked as you took your seat beside him.

"I want to get Rams out for the night. He's turning into a cranky old businessman." You said with a heavy sigh.

"I can't go. Race night. Have a spot to defend." Alyn said with an apologetic shrug.

You frowned and shot a look at Matt, who quailed under your glare.

"I'm free." He said quickly as Ben walked in, looking rather angry.

"Stop yelling at me, woman!" He yelled as Carmen could be heard shouting from down the hall.

"Not even going to ask you, because you're coming. You could use a drink or five." You said as Ben threw himself in a chair with an irritable growl.

"Where we goin'?" Matt asked.

"Dunno. I'm always just along for the ride, you boys can choose."

"Well, what are you wanting to do?" Ben asked, eyeing you closely.

"Find someone for my husband to take his frustration out on." You said.

Ben gave an understanding nod, "right. Got a couple places we could go. Are you feeling expensive rich or just rich?"

You snorted, "does it matter?"

"Nah, rich people are shitbags." Ben chuckled, motioning to your group.

"Hey, don't include me in that. I'm not rich." Matt chuckled.

"Nah, you just now have temporary residence in a manor where people wait on you hand and foot, make more money a week than most do in a month, own a brand new Corvette with thousands of dollars of custom work done on top of the list price, and head a street gang with a bloody reputation." Ben laughed, "oh, and at the age of eighteen. You are such a little Ramsay."

Matt flushed, shrugging in defeat, giving a shy grin.

Ramsay walked in, looking your group over. So small now with Damon gone. And even Yellow Dick. You wondered if Ramsay would fill in Yellow Dick's spot?

"Well?" He asked, looking over at you.

"I have two of three." You said, hopefully.

"Who's being a party foul?" Ramsay asked, frowning.

Alyn raised his hand, "Racing tonight."

Ramsay tutted and sucked his front teeth, "ever find out what happened to the Stark girl?"

Ben shook his head, "nothing. She's a ghost apparently. Like the rest of her family."

"Hm." Ramsay hummed, "Well I guess it doesn't matter. Where are we going?"

"There's a new club that just opened up on the north strip, not our kind of place. But it's  No Man's Land. I'm sure we could drop some elbows on Lions and Stags. Got some men itching to make some money." Ben said giving Ramsay a sly grin.

"Then let's go drop some elbows. We leave in three." Ramsay smirked, glancing down at his watch.

"I don't have to wear a tie do I? I'm really not cut out for that." Matt hummed, pulling his hat down over his eyes, crossing his arms, and pushing himself back into the couch as far as he could.

"I won't make you wear a tie, but you're not going to look like a slob, representing me." Ramsay said, kicking Matt's dirty shoes.

"Yessir." Matt yawned, pulling a blanket over him.

You rose from your seat, stomach rumbling.

"Well, I'm going to go raid the fridge." You said leaving the Boys.

You stood there staring at the shelves of the refrigerator with a small frown.

"Whatcha doin'?" Kaden asked, from his spot at the bar, drinking from his straw.

"Well it would seem that your Cousin Damon is hungry, but nothing seems appetizing to him." You sighed, closing the door.

"What kind of things does he like? Maybe you could add them all together." Kaden said, eyeing your belly.

You laughed, "I don't think it would taste very good honestly. What do you have goin' on there?"

Kaden held up a dinosaur chicken nugget, "Abuela made me dinner before she went to help mama. You can have some if you like."

"Dinos it is, then." You laughed. He beamed.

You made a plate and sat beside Kaden, who kicked his feet against his stool.

"What kind of vegetables do you like?" You asked.

"Peas are my favorite. And green beans. And corn." Kaden said brightly, looking down at his plate.

"Hm. Me too. Uncle Ramsay hates peas." You said, pushing your peas around on the plate.

"Well he just don't know what he's missin'." Kaden said, chewing on his straw.

You laughed. He sounded just like his father. Children. Perfect miniature versions of their parents. For the sake of your sanity, hopefully your son was more like you, not that you were any better than your husband... But maybe not quite so wild.

"So... do you eat the head or the tail first?" You asked, examining the t-rex closely.

"Depends." Kaden shrugged, tearing into his nugget.

"On?" You asked, watching the boy with a grin.

"Oh, don't be stupid. It depends on the time of day and rotational tilt of the earth in the fourth year in the trans-something-or-another orbital... shit." Ramsay said with an air of superiority, yet finishing rather lamely.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, pulling your hand away from him.

"Get your own, good sir." You shrieked, waving your husband away.

"I'm afraid mine have all gone extinct." Ramsay sighed in mock sadness, glancing down at his watch, "they all moved from Jurassic Park to Jurassic World."

You laughed. Kaden crinkled his brows in confusion.

"Kid! Why did you let her force those nasty little things on you?" Ramsay said in distaste, looking down at the peas.

"We like peas." You said, sticking your tongue out.

"Yeah. We like the good stuff." Kaden pipped up, finally setting his fork down long enough to speak.

"Knock some sense into you, boy." Ramsay tutted, taking a seat beside you.

You looked at your husband fondly. He was quite a character. How could someone so full if anger and rage, and yet act like he had no emotions, be so charming and funny? How did he do it?

"Ah! There you are, tiny ese. I've been looking everywhere for you." Ben sighed, walking in.

"Sorry, he was my dinner date." You said, offering a smile, holding up your nugget and biting its head off.

"Nah, it's cool. Just didn't want my ass chewed by the devil woman." Ben said, glancing around hopefully for food, swiping a handful of nuggets from the tray. "You know, these are the best drunk food. Kid you not."

"Children." Ramsay tutted, rolling his eyes.

"Says the man with thirty boxes of Scooby-Doo gummy snacks." You said with a sly grin.

He shrugged, pushing his stool away from the bar and standing.

You finished the last of your food, "sweetheart, I enjoyed our dinner. Maybe we can do it again sometime. Maybe you can help me make pizza. I make really good pizza dough."

"The best." Alyn added, walking in, "right I'm out of here. Need to change tires. I'll be back sometime tonight. Don't plan on racing all night, but got some other shit to do."

"Like what?" Matt asked, walking in behind Alyn, swiping a soda off the counter.

"Your mom." Alyn chuckled, side stepping Matt's fist and shaking Ramsay's hand.

"Well, I'm going to go get dressed, I guess, while you three pregame." You said, sliding from your stool.

Ramsay slapped your ass as you walked past. You threw him a dirty look, heat rising in your face as Kaden giggled.

Halfway up the stairs you ran into Carmen.

"Have you seen my little one?" She asked.

"Him and I just finished dinner. He was still in the kitchen with Ben when I left." You smiled, pushing up the stairs.

You glanced out a window at a cloudy, twilit sky as you walked past.

"Whew. I'm getting too pregnant for this." You muttered, crossing your room to your closet. You glanced the dresses over with a small frown as the door clicked behind you. Grey fuzz and a tiny meow wound around your leg as you turned to see Ramsay standing there.

"There you are. I was beginning to worry you were lost somewhere." You said with a small smile, glancing down at Herman. You looked up at your husband, "what am I dressing for? Is it cold?"

"A bit of a chill in the air. Just be grungy. We are rich enough to afford that look without being looked down on." Ramsay shrugged, pulling his tie from over his head and tossing it on the bed.

You crossed over to him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and kissing each bit of skin you exposed.

He drew a deep breath, resting his hands on your hips as you kissed across his chest. The cuts from the night before still hot and angry, yet scabbed over nicely... or as nicely as scabs and cuts went.

"How was work?" You asked, resting you cheek to his left breast and listening to his heartbeat.

"Fucking bullshit. Losing roughly twelve point five in sales, as everything burnt to the ground. Someone, and if I ever find out who, they are more than dead, set up some dodgy fucking insurance scam. So all building and replacing will come out of pocket. So that's easily another three to four months of lost income." He said bitterly.

"Yes, maybe... But, the bar opens next Saturday. And you've projected a decent amount of legit income from that." You said with an encouraging smile as you pulled away from him to find a pair of jeans and band tee.

"When is the last time you talked to Olyvar?" He asked, stepping into the closet with you, nudging the cat out of the way.

"Hmm... been a couple days. Why?" You said, grabbing a pair of jeans from a hanger.

"Just curious. You seem rather distant from him in the last few months." He shrugged, examining two pairs of jeans.

"We've all had a lot going on. He understands. But after the bar opens, we will be able to see one another a lot more." You said, sliding your pants down, and pulling your shirt off to change.

"Is it weird that I find you extremely fucking hot while you're pregnant?" He asked, running his eyes over you with a wolfish grin.

"I'm going to say no, for the sake of my self-esteem." You grinned, struggling to button your pants and finally giving up with a frustrated sigh.

Ramsay pulled you into him, nipping at your ear, "leave them like that. I will make it worth it."

"Is that so?" You purred, pushing a finger into his bare chest.

"Have I ever failed you yet, little mama?"

You gave an embarrassed grin, pulling a shirt from its hanger and sliding it over your head.

"How long do I have?" You asked, walking into the bathroom and crossing the cold marble floor to a vanity in the corner.

"Long as you want." Ramsay shrugged, leaning in the doorway and watching you as you plugged a curling iron in.

"Well, give me about thirty minutes and I will be ready." You said, looking at him through the mirror.

"Aye, aye." Ramsay hummed, pushing off the door frame and leaving.

×××

Ramsay helped you from the car, dropping the keys in the valet's hand and grabbed the teenager by the front of his shirt, "fuck her up at all and I will kill you. Literally." He growled, shoving the kid away from him.

"Y-yes sir." The kid nodded, eyes wide in fear, clutching the keys to his chest.

You grabbed Ramsay's hand and pulled him along, "stop being so grouchy."

Ramsay clucked, "I'm not grouchy, woman."

"Mhm, and I'm not almost six months pregnant." You replied, leading him to where Ben and Matt were leaning against a wall.

"Haven't seen that shirt in a minute." Ben said, glancing your shirt over.

You had chosen one of Ramsay's old band tees, as none of your shirts were long enough to hide the fact that your pants were unbuttoned and only halfway zipped.

"Yeah, guess I had left it in my closet when I left home. Shit ton of other things I forgot I had." Ramsay said, looking at the shirt with an almost uncharacteristically sad smile, that made you feel as though you should have chosen something else.

"Scorpions, man. Best concert ever. I miss Dame whistling 'Wind of Change'. He always did it at the worst times." Ben grinned with the same sad look.

You gave Matt a quick glance who gave you the same look. Two outsiders intruding on heartbreak.

Ramsay laced his fingers in yours and led you through the doors.

It was loud, dim, and you could feel the music drumming in your chest as people walked around wearing glow sticks and very revealing clothing.

You pulled Ramsay along with you to an empty table near the most vacant side of the club.

You made to sit but Ramsay pulled you into his lap as Matt and Ben waded through the crowd towards the bar.

You watched people dance, laugh, and shout at one another in loud, drunken voices as Ramsay rested his chin on your shoulder, occasionally biting at your neck.

Ben returned with a tray of shots, and a few moments later Matt returned with Tyene on his arm, who was closely followed by Obella.

You smiled brightly at them both and gave them brief one armed hugs.

Ben passed out the shots and Matt sat a glass of water in front of you as you shed your jacket, placing it in the empty chair beside you were a shot for Damon had been set.

"So glad you came. We have some news." Tyene said, sitting beside you and Ramsay.

"Well, spill the beans." You prompted, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table as Ramsay ran his hand up the back of your shirt, tugging at your bra strap.

"Tyrion Lannister has been spotted, in the presence of some blonde. No one seems to know exactly who she is. Working on that. Cersei is going off the deep end. Really twisting the Tyrell's into doing all her dirty work. Heard she's about to put in for running for mayor", -Ramsay snorted into his glass- "Right? Anyways, Feds are crawling all over. Upturning every rock. Asking all kinds of questions to all kinds of people. Offering safety and amnesty for cooperation and shit. It's getting weird." Tyene finished by taking a long drink from Matt's glass.

"Maybe I should have Alyn drop the spot and not race tonight..." Ramsay said thoughtfully, glancing at his watch again.

You squirmed in discomfort as baby movements caught you unawares in the ribs.

"But you girls are safe? No problems from anyone?" You asked, glancing the club over and taking a sip of water.

"Not yet. Just a matter of time. With Papa's record, we will be targeted." Obella cut in.

You looked at the two girls and frowned, "keep your ears and eyes open, but don't engage in anything. Please. For your safety. The Boys and Kings can take care of the muscle. Report anything suspicious to me immediately. I will come by the shop tomorrow. I'm taking my soon to be sister in law dress shopping and all that jazz. Mostly I'm just ready to cake taste, but... whatevs."

"You didn't tell me that." Ramsay frowned, giving you a hard look and digging a nail into your back.

"Sorry baby. I guess I forgot. Kind of been a long few days." You said, offering an apologetic smile.

He merely clucked in annoyance, watching people walk by.

You leaned back into Ramsay who seemed to have melted into his chair as he continued to drink and light cigarette after cigarette.

"You okay?" You asked, kissing at his ear.

"Fine." He sighed, wrapping his arms around you, resting his hands on your belly.

"Liar." You hissed, grinding your ass into his pants.

He pushed his hips into you and let a smirk form.

"You are evil." He chuckled, sitting up straight and pulling you further back into him.

"I learned from the best." You winked, nipping the corner of his mouth.

"Have you found someone yet? I'm getting bored. This place blows."

"Bored? Well we can't have that now, can we?" You said, standing up and glancing around.

"What are you doing?" He asked, resting his elbows on the table and watching you through narrowed eyes.

"Making it a bit more fun." You grinned walking away into the crowd.

You glanced back to see Ramsay sitting there in momentary confusion before he rose from his seat, as someone bumped you in the arm.

You turned to see who it was. A very drunk man, who grabbed your arm painfully with a grin.

You looked at him in disgust and pulled away from him. You glanced him over quickly, taking his image in so you could find him later before pushing on further into the alcohol perfumed crowd.

You glanced around to find yourself alone in a group of strangers, all having a good time. It was hot and you quickly grew tired of people bumping into you, afraid someone may accidentally hurt your pregnant belly. You pushed through the crowd until the breathing air became a bit cooler, and moving space was more ample. You turned to give a sweeping glance over the crowd again, grinning in triumph that you had given your husband the slip.

You turned back around and stifled a small gasp as Ramsay pressed his lips harshly to yours.

"Nice try. But I believe you are now 'it'." He chuckled, pulling you in closer, and sliding his tongue in your mouth.

You closed your eyes, relaxing into him, running your tongue over his, tasting the alcohol and cigarette smoke.

He pulled away from you when you were both breathless.

"I found the man I want to kill." You panted, pulling him back in for another kiss.

"Show me." He murmured against your lips with a dark grin.

"I don't know where he went. But he's wearing a dark button up with a purple tie. Dark hair, grey eyes. Wearing a stupid smirk like he owns the goddamn place." You said, glancing around again.

"Dark shirt, purple tie. Got it." He hummed, tugging you back along to your table.

It was as if the heavens knew how to deliver, as the man sat at your table, having a seemingly good time with your girls, Ben, and Matt.

Ramsay caught your eye and you gave a tiny nod and shrug.

"And who is our friend here?" Ramsay asked in polite interest, eyes glittering in the thrill of the hunt.

"Names Cley. Cley Cerwyn." The man said, glancing you over again.

"Hm. That last name sounds familiar?" Ramsay said, pretending to take an interest and sitting at the table, pulling you possessively into his lap.

"Yeah, maybe. Family full of cops. My father worked a lot with Ned Stark and his son." Cley said with a nod.

Ramsay snapped his fingers and gave a mock gasp of shock, "that's right. I know your father. Or knew your father, rather. I stomped his fucking head in a couple months back. Real pain in the ass he was."

You watched the man stare dumbfounded at Ramsay, who motioned to Matt and Ben before the man could register what was going on.

"Let's go have a bit of fun." Ramsay smirked, sliding you from his lap as Ben seemed to do no more than pat the guy on the shoulder as he slumped forward, unconscious. Looking simply as a passed out drunk.

"Oh, I love when you do that." Ramsay chuckled, looking down at the man.

Ben gave a grin and a wink as you waved to Obella and Tyene.

×××

"Well, this is new." You said, glancing around the abandoned building.

"Just found it. Haven't used it yet. Just a run down apartment complex. Set to be demolished soon." Ramsay said, opening a door for you.

You entered the flat, glancing around the empty place bathed in the orange glare from the street light outside. It had the smell of a house that had been left to sit and rot. You glimpsed a mouse running across the floor to get away from you.

Ramsay grabbed your hand and tugged you into a small kitchen. The cabinets open, appliances gone, but the outline of them etched on the walls. Ramsay turned on the sink tap, grinning as the water came out. He had no doubt had the water turned on, ready to use this place at least once before it was gone. You assumed it to be like a tiny little hidden gem for him and his sick games. There sat a bucket, which Ramsay had grabbed up to start filling with water, and a simple wooden chair. On the floor beside the chair sat a box of surgical gloves, a flashlight, and a rusty looking knife.

You looked out the kitchen window, watching a stray dog forage through rotten garbage at an over flowing dumpster. You had never been to this side of town other than when Ramsay made you sit and wait in the Nova as he took care of some financial business.

"How, um... populated is this area?" You asked, looking back at Ramsay, who sat the bucket of water down.

He shrugged and lit a cigarette, "pretty dense. But if you're afraid of anyone hearing anything or seeing anything it's all for not. People around here don't trust cops and have a serious bystander effect disease. Nobody wants the cops over here. Too much illegal shit going on."

You simply nodded as Ben and Matt came in, dragging Cley along, depositing him in the chair, tying his hands behind him, and securing his legs to the legs of the chair.

"Thank you, Boys. You are both free to go." Ramsay said, running his eyes over the still unconscious man.

"You sure?" Ben asked, looking from man to Ramsay.

Ramsay nodded, "just be sure to leave the front door unlocked for me."

Ben chuckled, grabbed Matt by the elbow and they both disappeared into the dark.

You sat up on the counter as Ramsay flipped the flashlight on. He said nothing until a minute or two after you heard the front door close.

"What's up? I know you didn't want to do this for shits and giggles. You look ready to pass out any second with your pregnant ass." Ramsay said, lighting a cigarette and leaning against the counter you sat on.

You sighed, "you told me never to fuck up. So I won't. I never meant to. I just... I love you Ramsay. So I thought we could have a heart to heart while making hearts stop."

"You are just a bleeding romantic, aren't ya?" He laughed, exhaling smoke through his nose.

You gave a laugh, "Well, maybe a bit. But really baby, we need to talk."

"Fire away." He murmured, pulling gloves on and glancing over at the unconscious man.

"I spoke to your father today." You said meekly.

"Why?" He asked, picking up a bucket of water.

"Because I hate him and I'm tired of him hurting you." You said, sliding from the counter, pulling your own gloves, and picking up the knife.

"He doesn't hurt me, baby doll." Ramsay replied, dumping the bucket of water on the man, who awoke with a scream.

Cley's eyes were wide in fear as he struggled against his restraints, trying to make words but failing miserably.

"Yes he does, baby. Last night... When you were in there. I walked in. I was worried about you. I heard the things you said. The things he said. You were hurting and upset." You said gently, stuffing the man's mouth with a cloth you pulled from Ramsay's back pocket.

Ramsay turned to you and gave you a long, sweeping look through glittering eyes, taking the knife from you.

"Why are you telling me this?" He demanded, rosy patches appearing on his cheeks.

You gave a soft smile and stepped into him. You grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pressed your lips to his.

He did not kiss you back immediately, but you pressed your lips harder to his, sliding your tongue in his mouth. He opened his mouth under yours and cupped your face.

You pulled away from him when you were winded, looking up at him with the same soft smile, "I'm telling you because I love you. I'm tired, baby. I am physically and mentally exhausted. I'm no good at all this sneaky, secret keeping bullshit. I'm good at things like... cooking, and riding horses, and shooting skeet. I'm not stupid, but I am a bit slow. You're always going. And I don't understand how. Damon told me you had to or you get lost in your head. What does that mean?"

"Damon told you that, huh?" He said, raising a brow and turning to the man you two were supposed to be torturing.

"The day he brought those pictures. I think he knew something was wrong. Told me not to fuck up. Told me I'm the foundation and not to crack." You said, taking the knife from your husband, and pressing the blade to the man's chest to cut away his shirt.

"He just meant that I'm suicidal. Which is apparent. But sometimes it's hard for me to tell if I want to engage in self harm to feel the rush or to end the rush. I don't want to die, but I couldn't give a shit if I did." Ramsay shrugged, grabbing the knife back.

"Baby, what did your father do to you?" You asked, watching him lean over the man to slide the knife just under the skin.

Cley screamed out in pain, making violent movements and further damaging his skin as the knife hacked and sawed at him in his struggle. The blood came down thick and bright red, like a continuous stream from the sink tap.

"Why does it matter?" He asked, making a quick, complicated movement and peeling flesh from the man.

You looked away as an unpleasant queasiness set in.

"Please tell me. I want to understand. I want to help you heal, the healthy way."

"Torture I guess is about all that needs to be said." Ramsay said, slowly sawing at the skin where it was still attached to the body, and watching the piece of flesh fall to the ground.

"Like?" You coaxed, stepping behind him and wrapping your arms around him, closing your eyes tight, ignoring the screams of agony and torture.

"He beat me, raped me, burned me, shocked me, half drown me... You know, stupid shit." Ramsay shrugged.

You listened to the rumble of his chest with a deep frown.

"Why is he still alive?" You asked, a fresh wave of anger forming as you pulled away from Ramsay and took the knife from him, stabbing the man in the leg as he continued to beg and scream into the gag.

"Because, now I get to force my company on him, and he has to endure twenty seven years worth of lost time with his youngest son." Ramsay smirked, biting his bottom lip as he watched you wrench the knife from the man's leg.

"I'm going to kill him. I am." You said, baring your teeth and pointing the knife at your husband.

"Oh?" Ramsay asked with a wicked grin.

You sat in a chair, ready to recount your encounter, thinking next time you would just record it. If there was a next time.

You took a deep breath and began your story.

He made a face, lit a cigarette, and turned back to the man who seemed to have passed out in pain. He made a small tsking noise and pushed the bucket to you.

You picked it up to fill it at the sink, watching him out of the corner of your eye as he listened to you recite the conversation from today with Roose. His face remained impassive and no emotion registered as you struggled with the heavy bucket.

He glanced at you, stepping in to take the bucket from you. Your words had long since ended, but he remained silent as he dumped the water on the victim, sat down on the bucket, and pushed a burning cigarette cherry into an open wound.

You watched the man scream and writhe in pain, trying to get away from Ramsay, tears streaking his face.

If carving skin could be considered an art, Ramsay Bolton would surely have been the Leonardo Da Vinci at it. Even with his dull, rusty blade, he seemed to cut through the flesh like sharp scissors to wrapping paper.

He offered you the knife but you declined with a small smile, assuring him that this victim was for him to play with, and you would help him with the next one.

You looked down in surprise when your phone rang, and even more surprised when you read Chase.

You stepped out into the next room, "hello?"

"Hey, I'm working nights this week. And one of the guys said I missed the excitement earlier. So I asked what was up, right? Two feds came in. Took all the case information on Clay's death and also wanted a gander at courthouse records on who bought all the land around here in the last few months." Chase blurted quickly.

You frowned, "any idea what their names were?"

"No. But I'll text it to you. Stay safe."

"Always. You too. Keep me posted. Oh! And you and the whole gang better be here next Saturday night." You said before hanging up.

You slid your phone back in your pocket and walked back into the room. With a purposeful stride you walked over to Ramsay, took his knife, and gutted your victim.

"Hey! What did you do that for? I was having fun." Ramsay chided, giving you a very displeased glare.

"We need to go home." You said, annoyed you couldn't keep your voice steady.

"What's wrong?" Ramsay asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Chase just called. Said some Feds came by the station to get information on Clay's death and got the information about who has bought all the land in the surrounding area. I'm afraid it's those Lannister men." You said, heaving a sigh and pinching the bridge of your nose, "what if they connect it all to us? What if they threaten my parents?"

"Baby girl, they can't possibly connect us. Yes, some of the purchased land is in my name, but there's nothing suspicious about that. It's your hometown, we are rich, of course I'm going to buy up land there for you. It's clean land. Nothing on it but a couple of houses that need demolished. I've covered my tracks." Ramsay said, taking the knife from you and giving a sad glare at the dead man.

"Still, if they are Lannister's, they know." You said, fear setting in at the thought of your parents.

"We will go home and clean up and I will see what's going on." Ramsay said, kissing your cheek as he walked past you to the door. He suddenly stopped, turned, and beamed at you with a mischievous grin.

"What?" You asked, raising a brow.

"You. You're funny. It's like you have a vendetta against men with the name Clay." He chuckled.

You looked over at Cley, his insides slowly pushing themselves further out of his gut, and gave a shrug. "Yeah, maybe so. Fucking douchebags. Now, let's go home. I'm fucking tired."

[el-and-hop]

The little scene in episode 7 when El and the gang are stealing from the store and El goes for the Eggos isn’t just comic relief. It’s part of a major character arc. It shows Kali’s manipulation, her ability to turn El into Eleven.

You could brush it off as a little gag, a throw back to when she stole the Eggos from the supermarket in the first season. But it’s so much deeper than that.

Think about it. El starts with Mike and he gives her Eggos, not real food. It’s really all she knows about food. It becomes comfort. It becomes her bond with Mike. At that point El is struggling with her identity of being a monster, of being Eleven. But during her final scenes with Mike in the school, he tells her about how she can come home and eat real food, not just Eggos. She can become normal.

Fast forward to El finding Hop’s food in the woods – He leaves her Eggos, the one thing he knows she loves. They bring her comfort. They remind her of home. So during their time in the cabin, the Eggos represent some sense of normalcy, a sense of comfort. 

But Hopper knows she can’t just eat Eggos. He makes an effort to give her some semblance of a normal, real diet. Eggos become a desert, a treat thats only for special times. The only way he can get her out of bed after their fight is by having an Eggo Extravaganza, a comfort treat. 

When things get even worse, he takes away all her Eggos, therefore stripping her of every piece of her connection with Mike, the comfort that comes from knowing that is the one thing that they share together, the bond that she has with his world, her home. We see her eat tv dinners, french toast, her peas even if they’re mushy. We can see a shift in her character. She’s moving away from the lost, terrified monster Eleven that only eats Eggos and isn’t normal to El, a girl who has a normal diet. 

This is why her choice in episode 7 is so important. Kali’s manipulation of El has already begun. She’s already started to strip off El and started to become Jane. So, rather than go for the apple, which over the past year Hopper would’ve told her to eat, because that’s normal and healthy, El goes strait for the Eggos. She’s reverting back to before Hopper. She assumes the identity of Jane, a girl who, by Kali’s standing, is just Eleven with a different name.

El leaves her newly found self behind, the normal person that Hopper has been teaching, feeding, protecting. She crawls back into her old self, back to Eleven, the abnormal monster with superpowers who only eats Eggos. Kali’s manipulation literally changes El to the point where she becomes that monster she was so afraid of being. 

[sotiog]

Petau

this story begins with Her dying.

what's more, it's not just her, it's her 5 month old foetus who met his demise at this very young age -i am not even sure you can define it as 'age'. she is having what people call a late miscarriage, caused by the wrong number of chromosomes, which were too many. so it seems, 13 is an unlucky number after all. 

she is dying at this very moment, drawing her last breath on her bathroom floor. she finds the situation rather pathetic: blood on the floor, her dead son in her arms, and she is experiencing the symptoms of slowing heartbeat, dizziness, loss of hearing and vision and numbness. she knows, she did this to herself and her self conscious is punishing her as she is bleeding out slowly, head aching, heart aching, backbone aching, her eyes are fixed on the tiles of the bathroom. there is nothing strange or unusual about them, don't take me wrong. the tiles have nothing to do with her dying or the miscarriage. or maybe a little.

 she remembers when they put them up the walls, knowing nothing about building or decorating. she helped him giving them up from the package they were sold from. she watched him as he applied those tiles on the wall, fixing them to it and finishing up all by himself. she watched him doing it, and looked like any other fool could just copy his motions and look ordinary as he was. except she had married him.

 and so this tile made her remember everything she had done before this period of her life began. before she felt so alone and lonely, before her son died.

-so are you gonna' finish your peas?

-no, you can have them i guess. i am bursting...

so he reached over with his fork and pierced each pea through, so the fork 4 blades each had a pea on them. she looked at him without actually asking the question she already knew the answer for, so instead she raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth in an O shape for a second while exchanging meaningful looks with each other. an old couple at the next table winced at his action and the fact she was leaning on the table with her head resting on her arm. this place wasn't even a reputable restaurant or even a restaurant: it was merely a pub. she sort of threw a smile their way and leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, who just finished the peas on the plate, and munched on them, mouth open, particles falling onto his lap, wiping his hands in his shirt.

-hey, i think we can go now. unless you want dessert?

he was shaking his head and closed his eyes whilst doing it, which meant 'no hecking way, don't you know me????' so she smiled and stood up from the table, looking at the old couple who were eating something very mushy with forks and knives. she could swear it was only mashed potato, but who knows.

so they left the place and started to walk home. as usual, the thoughts rushed into her head not sure which one to share with him. it didn't matter because everything they talked about made sense and wasn't trivial or boring to any of them. they agreed on most topics and never really had a fight over anything major. misunderstandings happened of course, but they always ended up apologising and basically go overboard and make a massive scene out of how idiotic they were, etc.

she finally decided to go with a nostalgic memory she had, when she was acting rather like a drama queen. like she does.. this story was brought back up from a crushed pen laying on the sidewalk, which had suffered several trauma by people walking over it.

-are you going to wait for me after work then? i am finishing at 2?

-i don't know, really, i kind of want to go home and play my new game. i also would have to wait an hour!

-you are saying this like it was at least half a day and i asked you to stay completely still while you are in front of the building!

-no, i told you.. i... OKAY, okay, i will wait. can i have your charger then?

but when she finished working and came out through the front door he wasn't there. she looked around the fifth time, maybe he was walking up to her right now from a different direction, but he was nowhere to be seen. she felt the anger filling her up from the inside and building pressure in her head, so she stormed off towards the train station. (little did she know, that he was literally getting off the bus at the other end of the street, running towards her, knowing he would be late, so he did text her the estimated time of his arrival, but of course that little thing -to check her phone- was out of the question now.) as she stomped towards the station and literally everything made her angry. for example she seen a bunch of teenagers sitting on a bench nearby and using their pens as tiny cannons, shooting pieces of wet tissue at each other, tossing the particles not needed on the ground. they looked like they are having fun and that angered her so much, she even pictured herself punching the biggest child in the gang, just because he looked more like an equal opponent to her than the rest of the kids.

 arriving at the station she already seen the train on the platform, which made her absolutely furious, not even at him anymore, but at the train of course, and the fact she now has to ran upstairs, through the corridor and down the two flights of stairs towards the platform. all this with a 2 months old foetus in her belly she already knew of, but he didn't. 

she got angry at him not showing up in time because as a matter of fact she planned to present him with the big news today. so his irresponsible actions made her really mad, even though he couldn't have known that this is going to be an important afternoon for the two.

as she was looking for her ticket in her wallet, she caught glimpse of the timetable hanging on the wall opposite of her, showing the train was already 5 minutes late and now ready to depart within a minute. so as quick as possible she pushed through the gathering crowd assembled by mainly commuters, school kids and tourists, who were just staring at the timetable with the mouth open or squinting at information packets they were given to help them get along easier. of course this made her even more angry than she was! combination of the past 5 minute's events simply made her red with anger, and when she is going to think about this day in the future she is usually cringing at her actions and childishness behavior she represented. 

she pushed through successfully and made it up the stairs, taking them by the two, and running down skipping three whole steps, and was lucky enough not to trip and fall/break her neck/break her ankle/ lose the child/ lose her life just now. by the time she got down the train was still there, but strangely enough it was empty and all the passengers were on the platform exchanging angry looks with each other and sometimes with the employees of the station or the train company. there was no point in asking questions: it was clear as day, that something has happened on the vehicle, because there were paramedics, police and all sorts of less important people in one of the furthest carriage. 

-someone has given up, huh?-she thought, and started to walk along the platform, where she might catch a glimpse of the drama that someone else is causing, and probably having the worst day of their life, but all she came across were whining people and crying children all the way there, when she seen something: there was a poster on the side of the train of the Pieta. everyone heard that it has been damaged by an unstable person who threw black tar over it, and was screaming to everyone around him that this statue is blasphemy and all the other ones picturing jesus dead is a blasphemy too, because his death is the symbol of the acceptance of our sins and all our wrong doings in this life. only she seen the Pieta as herself. she was holding her dead son, and the cape he was lying in was her own blood.