#i shouldnt have to drive to the damn post office to let them know that i cant make the appointment i scheduled

[2024skin]

When the post office told me I could call them if I needed to cancel my appointment, I thought that meant I could call their building. But here I am, on hold for 30 minutes, and when I finally get to speak to a person they are going to be at a call center

[sammy-gvf]

We get along (for the most part)

Chapter One.

OC x Lee Bodecker

Warnings: None for now. Just some cursing.

Plot : The local rebel badass girl and Lee Bodecker have had run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we? 

MINORS DNI !!!!! Eventually this story will get 18+. I dont feel like getting in trouble because of you. Thanks a bunch. 

Evan Rachel Wood ( Across the Universe 2007) 

( personally in my head this is what she would look like but you can interpret her anyway you want!)

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My name is Margaret Lane, well Maggy. 22. Born May 2nd 1947.

The resident bad girl, don't worry, I gave myself that nickname.

I have lived in this tiny, middle of nowhere town my entire life. Same people, same gossip.  There's no escape. No matter how hard I try, something always stops me. I live with my parents and little brother here in Knockemstiff, Ohio. My parents and I have a mutual understanding of “you go to work and come home and then we don't talk”, which is fine with me. My little brother is the only one I can really rely on. He is 17 years old and he is really the only person in my family that I can really talk to. I mean, I have friends but they aren't living in the same house as me. Not yet at least, we are thinking about moving out all together.

High school is where I built my reputation, of course. Used to sneak around with Arvin Russell, which led me to meet Lee Bodecker. Sneaky ass sheriff used to follow my every move, making sure he took every opportunity to bust Arvin and I any chance he got. 

Had nothing better to do than to bust on teenagers who were sneaking out to their parents, what a loser. Along with gaining some parking tickets and speeding tickets along the way, we became acquaintances. Thinking about the future, I was dying to leave this town. Never got the chance to after high school, hopefully I will as soon as i'm done college. 

 I can say whole heartedly that I do NOT enjoy Lee's presence. That man memorized my license plate number. Stops me all the time, for no reason. 

Flashback 

It was a warm saturday evening, about 7pm. I had just got some college work done. Figured it was too nice to just sit inside, right?

 I get up out of my bed and put my school stuff in my bag, walking over to my closet to put on a pretty yellow flowy dress and grab my leather jacket, that'll go nice with the breeze coming in through my window.

I put my hair up in a bun and slip on some keds, something easy ya know? 

I turn off the light in my room and walk into the living room where I see my father asleep on the couch, I walk over to the counter and grab a little piece of paper and write “going out for a drive, be back soon” and put in on the table in front of my father so if he wakes up, he knows where I went. 

I actually have a lot of freedom compared to other girls my age, many girls my age are looking for husbands and/or their parents are trying to set them up with someone. My parents know who I am, I was so against having an actual boyfriend so I just slept around. Obviously, people at church got wind of it but I didn't really care, to me men are there at my disposal. I play the field for my own reasons. 

I grab my keys off the door in the foyer of my little house and head outfront. 

I head down the steps of my house and waltz towards my red little 1964 Ford Mustang. Worked for it all by myself. 

Getting in the car, I pop a cigarette in my mouth and light it up. Keeping the cigarettes in my car was my best bet, my father would kill me if he knew I smoked these things. Turning on the car, I throw in a Led Zeppelin cassette, immediately Whole Lotta Love starts playing. What a good song to drive to. 

I put my windows down and start driving down a long road where I know for a fact no one drives this time of night, partly because they are afraid of the sheriff, Lee Bodecker. 

Lee doesn't scare you, never has. 

Blaring music at high volume was what you  were known for in these parts and you could really care less about the time and how loud you had it. Music is a really important part of your self expression. 

Speeding down the road, cigarette in my mouth screaming the lyrics 

You need cooling

Baby I'm not fooling

I'm gonna send ya

Back to schooling

A-way down inside

A-honey you need it

I'm gonna give you my love

I'm gonna give you my love

 I smile and listen to the lyrics, I feel like such a rebel. People in these parts don't listen to this type of music, devil music they call it. They think it has some deep down evil meaning. I just shake it off, they wouldn't know real music if they tried. 

 I could just leave right now if I wanted to. Drive out of town and start fresh, no one would miss me. Except my brother and friends. They are really the only people keeping me in this dead end town. 

The cool breeze enters your hair and you lose your hair tie. Fuck. 

“ Damn It”  You say as you put the cigarette down and try to look to see where it went. It's nowhere in sight. 

“ I have to pull over to get this thing” you think to youtself. It's the only hair tie you own right now.

you light another cigarette and pull my car over to a slightly darker side of the road. You get out of the car and start searching for my hair band, it had to have fallen behind your seat. 

 Of course, you saw familiar blue and red lights pull up right behind me.

“Fuck me” you mutter as you turn around, shut the car door, kick the dirt under your feet and lean up against the car , patiently waiting for Lee to take his good ol time walking to me.

Lee exits his police cruiser wearing the typical uniform with the typical toothpick in his mouth.

You watch him as he slowly strides over towards you and You roll your eyes at him as he eyes you down, prick.

“Well, well, well, Ms. Lane. Fancy to see you here.” Lee says smirking and laying one hand on your car's trunk. You scoff at him.

“ Hands off the car, Bodecker. Thought you'd know better than to touch what's not yours.” You say looking over at him, taking a drag of your cigarette. Lee scoffs and walks over to you, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and crushing it with his shoe. Your jaw drops and you look over at him in disgust as he chuckles at your reaction to his doing.

“Pretty little ladies like you shouldnt be smokin these, could make ya look ugly” He says. 

You can smell the tobacco smell coming off him, the smell of mints sticking to his breath. He is a little closer to you now, you back up and grab your pack of cigarettes out of the cup holder in your car. Bending over, the sheriff gets a nice view of your backside for a split second.  

“Sheriff, I would like to respectfully say I do not give a fuck what a man thinks about how I look smoking a cigarette, I am not here for a mans enjoyment. Also, one more pet name and I'm telling your wife.” you say as you light another cigarette and the sound of Led Zeppelin is lingering in the background, Lee clicks his tongue and looks over at you.

“Ms.Lane, you have quite the mouth on you. Not very ladylike for a woman your age.” Lee takes his hat off and leans against your car. He lights a cigarette and stands there for a minute. You look at him confused and you roll your eyes. 

“Lee, besides bothering me, do you have a purpose being here right now?” You look at him and say while you take a drag of your cigarette. Lee looks over to you and laughs. 

“Well, I just seen a car parked all by itself on the side of the road and I was on duty anyways but then I saw your license plate and figured I'd see why you, little lady, are out all by yourself at this time of night.” Lee says throwing his cigarette on the dirt ground below him. 

You turn to look at him and finish your cigarette, leaning against the car still.

“ I appreciate your concern, Bodecker. I am just out for a drive and pulled over to find my hair tie, it came out while I was driving. Pulled over to look around for it, don't want my hair in my face while I am driving. Also, not a little lady. I am grown.” You say turning away from Lee and finding your hair tie, you turn to Lee while tying your hair up, smirking you say

“ Goodnight Officer,also don't follow me again, yeah?” You say climbing back into your car and you slowly pull away.

Lee stands there watching as you climb back into your car, the smell of your perfume in the air invades his lungs, dumbfounded, he smirks and laughs to himself. 

“Smart girl” Lee says as he smirks and turns to go back to his cruiser.

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You had noticed sometime down the road that there was a car following you with no lights on, you had just assumed it was some random person but with one certain lick of light you saw the sheriff's face in the mirror of your car mirror. Figuring that out, you went a little faster down the road and then you lost your hair tie, you knew what was coming. 

You look in the car mirror to look at Lee. He's already turned his car around and started driving the other way. You werent dumb, you know from the years of Lee catching you sneaking out and drinking and or having boys in your car as a young girl, he knows your moves. It makes you think he patrols these parts so he can catch you doing something dumb one day just to cuff you up and get some control. He never does. 

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 Two people with reputations in this town. 

 How bad can it get?

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Hi everyone! Welcome to my first fic! Lee Bodecker is quite the character and I have been wanting to write him for a while. Dont forget to leave some opinons so I can know what yall would want to possibly happen! Dont forget to like/reblog! It would mean the world. I am not sure about my posting schedule but itll most likely be once or twice a week! also let me know if youd like to be added to my tags so I can let you know when I post another chapter! 

Tags- @please-buckme , @ladyfallonavenger , @buckysdolls , @nerdy-depressed , @do-not-pray-for-me , @unsentlettersandmore , @local-spacegirl , @youcancallmeishita , @not-another-fangirl​ , @angelicbabydolll

[janegilmore]

New Post: https://janegilmore.com/extract-why-we-shouldnt-ask-why-she-doesnt-leave/

Extract: Why we shouldn't ask why she doesn't leave

This is an extract from my book Fixed It: Violence and the representation of women in the media, which you can buy from Readings, Booktopia, Amazon, Audible or the local bookstore of your choice (choose local if you can). 

This extract is from a section talking about the influence media has on how people think about men’s violence against women and the danger this can present to women who want to escape a violence partner.

Leaving a relationship that isn’t abusive is difficult, heartbreaking and exhausting. Imagine how much worse it can be when you’re also trying to unlearn years of grooming that taught you to have no faith in yourself and a lifetime of the world reinforcing to everyone around you that women are responsible for men’s violence, lie about men’s violence and should be the only ones to suffer the consequences of men’s violence. 

Chapter 8 – Victims, perpetrators and the people who support them 

It is dangerous for women who have experienced violence from men to live in communities where people might blame them for the violence someone else chose to enact against them. Crisis and support services need funding and government support to offer effective help to the hundreds of thousands of women who need it. They need to connect to police and courts, banks and welfare agencies, doctors and mental health workers, schools and work, housing and utility services, and they need to know those institutions will support them. An Australian woman told me her story of trying to escape her abusive husband and it’s a sadly typical example of the dangers and barriers women face when they try to leave violent men. 

Jenny* tried to leave her abusive husband, Andrew*, four times before she was finally able to escape. The first time she tried to leave was in the 1990s. Services for women in violent families were much more difficult to find, and she found her attempts blocked by basic logistical obstacles. Because she was still married, she quite simply could not get a lease, electricity supply, medical care, new schools for her kids or bank accounts in her own name without risking him finding her address. The organisations either required a co-signature from her then husband or would make her new address available to him. 

I was like a rat in a maze. Every time I ran down another alley I’d hit a wall. When we were married he’d always insisted on putting everything in his name – lease, bills, bank accounts, cars, insurance, everything. At first I didn’t realise that it mattered and later I was too scared of him to do anything about it. So the first time I tried to leave I had no rental record, no credit, no money of my own and whenever I tried to get anything they’d either want to check with him to verify my identity or they’d want to put things in both our names. Schools wouldn’t take the kids without both of us filling in the forms, even though I had police reports and had started divorce papers. Landlords wanted references and they’d tell me they ‘couldn’t promise’ that he wouldn’t find out about the application. If I told them I was in danger from him I wouldn’t get a lease. I could see it on their faces: I was ‘trouble’. If I didn’t tell them they’d ring him for a goddamn reference. It was unbelievable. I had a job but when I tried to buy a car they wouldn’t give me finance without his signature because we were still married. I paid the extra fee to get a silent phone number but one of the times we moved out he got our address from the electricity company. Another time it was through the husband of one of my friends. That bloke had always believed Andrew when he told people I was treating him badly and going to take the kids off him, so he felt sorry for him and said he was just trying to help him out. Every time I went back to Andrew it would all start again but he kept promising he wouldn’t hurt me again and he’d get so angry when I said no. It sounds crazy but I felt like I’d be safer if I moved back in with him and kept him happy than if I stayed where I was when he was so furious and could turn up any time he liked. 

Over time, as services for women fleeing violence slowly improved, Jenny was finally able to escape. With the help of police, intervention orders and one of the very few domestic violence support services avail- able at the time, she got a lease and moved to a new home with her children. Both Jenny and the police believed she had done everything she needed to do to make sure Andrew couldn’t find her new address. They were wrong. Police are still not sure exactly how he found out where she was living. He won’t say but Jenny thinks it’s possible he simply followed her home from work. 

He tried it lots of times. I’d see his car across the street or catch it in my rear-view mirror. Every time I saw him, I’d drive straight to the police station. Sometimes they’d be great; sometimes they’d carry on like I was just a pain in the arse. It all depended on who was on the counter when I got there. Maybe he borrowed someone else’s car one night ‘cause I was always really careful. I never ever stopped watching for him. 

Despite multiple breaches of intervention orders, like waiting out- side her work and following her home, ringing her and threatening to kill her, telling their children she was a manipulative bitch who didn’t really love them, that she was just doing things for them to make him look bad, and stalking her when she went out with friends, Andrew was never imprisoned. He had multiple court appearances that ended in fines, intervention orders, good behaviour bonds, suspended sentences and stern warnings. This went on for nearly a year until one night he came to Jenny’s home with a knife, kicked in her door and tried to kill her. One of her children, then only twelve years old, was quick enough to hide under furniture with a phone, call the police and stay on the phone so they could hear Jenny scream as she was being cut. Jenny had deliberately chosen a house close to a police station, a decision that probably saved her life that night because two carloads of police arrived in time to stop him before he killed her. Jenny was hospitalised with multiple stab wounds and Andrew was charged, convicted and imprisoned for attempted murder. The child who hid in the house that night, listening to his mother being stabbed, remains deeply traumatised. 

Andrew is due for release soon, so Jenny has changed jobs and left everyone at her old workplace with a detailed description of him and how to respond if he turns up. She calls it her ‘death-cheat-sheet’. It’s a document she’s assembled with photos of him and all the history, convictions and current court orders, as well as police contact details for anyone who hears from him. She’s handed the death-cheat-sheet to all the people he might contact if he tries to find her or her children again. So far this has included: her children’s schools and workplaces, parents of children’s schoolfriends, her eldest child’s partner, their parents and sib- lings, local police, family violence services, banks, utilities, her landlord, the bond agency, doctors, sporting clubs, social media, friends, family and extended networks, dentists, road toll organisations, Centrelink, eBay, the electoral roll, the tax office, superannuation accounts, lawyers, loyalty card companies, the car registration organisation, the local council and the local vet. She’s not sure if she’s covered every option and she knows there is a huge number of people who all have to be constantly vigilant about his manipulations and detailed knowledge of her life and habits. 

If any one person at any of those places slips up, even once, and he is able to find her, she firmly believes he will kill her. 

It’s a lot better these days but you still get people, you know, rolling their eyes and thinking I’m making a big drama of it all. Or they think I’m just being a bitch and not letting him see his kids. That’s why I did the death-cheat-sheet. Seeing the attempted murder conviction in black and white makes a difference, even to the blokes who feel a bit sorry for him because they think, ‘Oh, poor bugger, he just wants to see his kids.’ The big organisations, they all have those privacy regulations, but he knows my date of birth and all kinds of other details and he has the marriage certificate. Most people aren’t going to check whether a husband has tried to kill his wife if he pretends he’s just trying to pay her phone bill or something like that. He’s smart – that’s what scares me. 

It should be unlikely he’d be able to fool any of the large organisations now: they almost all have accounts for people like Jenny flagged to prevent exactly the situation that scares her. But she is one persuasive conversation, one person who believes women lie about domestic violence, one sympathetic interaction away from someone giving her address to the man who abused her, stalked her and eventually tried to kill her. He’s got a four out of ten chance of finding her, according to the National Community Attitudes Survey. Damn right she should be scared. 

* Jenny and Andrew’s names and some identifying details have been changed to protect her life and the lives of her children. 

—

If you want to read more, you can buy Fixed It: Violence and the representation of women in the media from Readings, Booktopia, Amazon, Audible or the local bookstore of your choice (choose local if you can). 

##FixedIt

[fuck-customers]

Ok so major vent/fuck coworkers post because I swear if I don't I'm going to punch this fucker's teeth in. Its long without a tl;dr so im sorry viewers There is this slimey mother fucker at my work... lets name him Graig... and he is that insufferable "teacher's pet" kind of person (read as: the store manager's bitch), and hes that fuck that will kiss everyone's ass and act really nice and polite but then actively talks shit and tries to snitch on u for something u may or may not have done the moment ur back is turned. But he talks the most shit on people who are "in his way" (ie: people whi arent managers but are still in a higher position than him) and he actively tries to sabotage blue shirts because he thinks that if the one in front of him is gone they have no choice but to make him a blue shirt. In every case he successfully pisses off a blue shirt to the point they leave, my manager just hires another blue shirt Here's a little segway to explain how the heirarchy of Dankin Doodoos works. At the top of a specific store is the manager who wears a red shirt in the middle are the shift leaders who wear blue shirts and at the bottom are the crew who wear white shirts Now backstory for Graig so this will make sense: at this point he is a White Shirt and hes pissed because he is p much the store's bitch and all he does is complain about how he doesnt have a Blue shirt, how he deserves a blue shirt even tho he takes waaaaay too many short cuts, actively ignores when Blue shirts ask him to do something or tell him to move to a different station, actively creates and perpetuates rumors to cause discourse, is very rude to customers, didnt know how to do most stuff that ur p much supposed to learn in training, literally fucks up most of his drinks, etc the list goes on and on for why he shouldn't have one and shouldnt even work here for that matter and we were all even told by our District Manager (a big higher up) he will never have a blue shirt. I came to work at this location after him but as a whole I was an actual manager at my old store so i was immediately put in a blue shirt position. He was not happy about that one fucking bit. I didn't care. I was nice to him, hoping if i didnt give him anything to bitch about hed eventually fuck off and do his goddamn job. Now onto the reason I say fuck Graig. I used to stream myself playing video games on twitch on my off time from work, which was A) a great stress reliever and B) something I've wanted to make a career for a while now. My manager knew I used to do this because I'd gush about how much I loved doing it so much. Id given a lot of my coworkers my twitch url and told them to come watch some time and it was all fun! But then one day my manager calls me into the office (with, of course Graig pretending to need shit out the office every 5 seconds so he can eavesdrop) and she tells me that someone had sent the url of one of my stored videos on twitch to my the district manager. It would have been all good, because i literally never say anyone's name and i never say i work for Dankin, it was just a fun stream i did with my friend and honestly my hair was long and i look way different with my hair pulled up so i might not have even been recognised so any of the foul language and dicks and stuff i joked about wouldnt have even mattered. But of course they absolutely had to try and get me with something, so they saw my shirt, which said DankinRonpa (a parody of Danganronpa) on it with a bear on it was close enough to the Dankin Doodoos design that I was representing my location and decided that everything i was doing was inappropriate so I was literally almost fired. And my district manager even made the comment that she had saved the url to my page so that shes going to check in from time to time to make sure im not doing anything inappropriate. Thankfully my manager saved my ass by pointing out it was a first time offense, i didn't know that my shirt would let people know where i work, promised it wont happen again etc etc I was so upset i still havent back streaming because im terrified shell keep her promise. So now if i want to continue streaming i have to abandon my current twitch channel (and all 200 followers) and start fresh. Of course after my shift is over my actual friend that worked there at the time also as a blue shirt let me know that Graig decided he had "had enough of me" and decided to prove that he had "eyes everywhere" and sent the link to my district manager. And the kicker? The real fucking kicker? He got a job as a assistant manager at a dollar corporal and he had put in his two weeks in the same fucking email he sent my twitch url in. He legitimately had no fucking reason to do it other than to be a petty piece of shit. Oh and even after he left, he kept calling the store, asking whoever answered the phone how much they were making, then told them they could make more at his dollar corporal like are you fucking serious? And what hes doing is trying to convince people to leave their job here and to come work under him. And from what the other managers say, its because he acts like hes a fucking bigshot and yells at everyone and hes already driven off half the staff. And wouldnt you know it, because of that they severely cut his hours to the point where he came crawling back this past week. But because right now, my store is so severely understaffed because all the hires have additudes and refuse to come in on time, they damn near handed him a blue shirt. But he always nags me when i dont let him touch my drawer or count the safe, or let him in drive thru. "Oh why dont you trust people?" And then try to guess why: "is it that rumor i heard about you getting in trouble over youtube?" And honestly that pisses me off even more because he was there when i had the conversation with someone esle i worked with and even asked questions about it, so he knows. And one of these days hes going to catch me when im not in uniform and not in the store and im gonna whoop his fucking ass if he doesnt leave me alone