#yes i know english is a bit of a mess THANKS FOR NOTHING NORMAN THE CONQUEROR >:(

[nostalgia-tblr]

i mentioned this in a discord server and nobody seemed to agree but do other native english speakers ever kind of second-guess a word (in this instance 'smitten') because you don't know where it came from but it's just got the... the "vibes" let's say... of something old and Germanic and so you stop for a moment and think "I do not trust all of these vowels. I may be 'smitten' now but in mere moments I could be 'smoten' or 'smattened' or - woden forbid - attacked by an entire herd of 'smeep'."

i think having done german as a second language didn't help (geholpt? gehalpen? helpierendenenen????) but surely someone out there gets me on this? your gut knows the warning signs of an irregular verb or plural form and your brain says "don't worry, mate, i've got this" but the gut panics a bit and starts demanding "are you sure? what if you've getted it wrong this time?"

must the mouses of uncertainty always threaten my carefully-built hice of knowledge???😭

[cajunroe]

speirton + college professors!au ↳ as a professor at one of the last male-only colleges left in the nation, lip didn’t expect so many applicants for the english program. but for the past two years, the classes have been full.  lip had always loved teaching. he loved when he got to witness the moment when everything clicked in his students’ minds and their eyes lit up with understanding and the love for english literature that he had. it made everything he had to put up with, worth it. his main source of frustration and anger was currently the department chair and sole professor of their edgar allan poe course, one necessary for graduation. norman dike was not a terrible man, but as a man who cared more about his title than his students, he wasn’t a good professor and it showed in his students. many of them filled lip’s office during his office hours begging for his help. and he could only do so much, what with his actual students needing his help too. and when he couldn’t help them all, he felt like a failure. like he’d disappointed the young men that had grown to depend on him. when web comes to his office, near tears because dike had messed up his midterm grade in a huge mistake, lip storms into the dick’s office and demands that dike be removed as a professor. one week later, dike gratefully resigned from the course and dick has a replacement coming in the following week. lip took over teaching and he could see the students’ relief and excitement on their faces. and he was happy that he could at least help them get someone new. two weeks later, lip has yet to meet the new professor, but it is a college and the kids are relatively young, so rumors fly about professor speirs. malarkey had told him that he swore he heard speirs threaten to shoot three students if they showed up late again. and skip had told him that he heard speirs kicked out another student for texting during his lecture. and then toye, not one for gossip, says he heard that speirs just got out of prison and someone high up owed him a favor. lips laughs them off when they invade his office, a little frightened. they ask lip to ask speirs to be less intense because it’s hard to focus on the lecture when they’re scared shitless. lip agrees and the next day he seeks out the infamous professor ronald speirs. and what he finds is more than he ever expected.

from the first moment lip saw speirs, he knew he was fucked. ron speirs was pretty much everything lip had ever wanted. 

dark, messy hair, dark eyes, defined jaw meeting in the middle to form a set of perfect, slightly pale lips which were wrapped around a coffee mug. his eyes traced along the planes of the man’s body, focusing on broad shoulders, toned arms, and rough hands holding a book of edgar allan poe poetry. 

lip was speechless.

“you’ve been staring long enough, i’m inclined to believe you see something you like?”

lip followed the deep voice, that voice, and his heart raced at the smug smile on the man’s face.

lip cleared his throat, twice, and gather his confidence to sit across from the man he’d heard so much about. 

he put his hand forward, “professor carwood lipton, everyone calls me lip, i teach romantic english lit.”

ron put his hand forward slowly, and lip didn’t miss the thorough eye’s checking him out, “ron speirs, i’m dike’s replacement.”

lip let out an involuntary sigh of relief, “thank god for that.”

he sat down on the chair across from ron and smiled..

he didn’t receive a smile in return, but ron put his book down so lip assumed it was a sign of interest in conversation.

“i’m under the assumption that he was a shit professor?”

“what makes you say that?” lip frowned, dick would’ve never used those exact words. nix for sure, but dick was a bit more diplomatic. 

ron smiled, “every student has told me so.”

lip laughed warmly, “i mean, they’re not wrong. he’s not a bad guy, just a bad leader. and these boys need more than that.”

ron nodded and lip looked at him curiously. when ron met his eyes, lip’s shifted to the ceiling.

“so,” he breathed out, “edgar allan poe? what made you choose him?”

ron was silent for a minute, “he’s underestimated.”

lip balked, “under...underestimated? how so?”

ron smiled like he was remembering a fond memory.

“there’s so much about him that is still a mystery. he was mysterious in life and death and his legacy. and people still believe they know all there is to know. i mean we have him to thank for more than the raven and the tell-tale heart and annabel lee.”

lip leaned forward as he saw the passion rise in ron’s eyes. wanting so deeply to drown in it. 

“and that’s another thing. his greatest, which is completely based on each individual’s opinion, works are magnificent and so are his not so popular works. did you know sir arthur conan doyle praised poe for bringing life to the detective story? he’s underestimated because no one knows just how far-reaching his influence is. he’s underestimated because his works, however popular or unpopular, still have a powerful effects on those who read and study them. he’s underestimated because he’s the greatest author and poet in american history and yet people just use him for fucking halloween spirit and when they want to pretend to be fucking deep rather than truly understand what he was trying to convey.”

ron finished with an angered huff and lip was in love. he’d never met another professor as in love and passionate about their subjects. god he want to learn everything going on in ron’s head.

“why are you looking at me like at?”

lip blinked slowly, coming back down from the academic high.

“what way?” he asked and noticed the curious look on ron’s face, eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

ron smiled, that same smug smile he had before, “like you just found religion.”

lip laughed and bit his lip, “well, i am a romantic at heart.”

ron smiled and lip loved how easily they were able to become comfortable with one another. he’d never felt such a connection so quickly before. 

it was as if....no. no way.

“i guess you are,” ron looked to lip’s mouth and bit his own lip, “so why do you teach what you teach? you don’t strike me as someone who could lecture on austen for his entire life.”

lip laughed softly, “are you kidding me? i could talk about jane austen for the rest of my life, teaching or not. to be able to describe love and affection and admiration so eloquently it was what first drew me into english and then teaching. and then in college i read jane eyre for the first time and i was absolutely in love. i knew i couldn’t possibly teach anything else. i’ve heard from a lot of other professors and colleagues that they think austen and brontë and shelley are overrated and outdated, but i don’t give a shit.”

he notice ron gradually lean closer, mirroring what lip did when ron was talking. that same passion in his eyes as when he was talking about poe. lip was transfixed.

he lowered his voice, and watched ron swallow heavily as he continued, “it’s my job as a professor to prove how wonderful and timeless these works are. they convey so much of the human condition and how powerful and devastating love can be. how, through trials and tribulations and heartbreaks and betrayal and lies can be overcome by three simple, but true, words. there are no more powerful words in any language than i love you. and austen and brontë completely capture that in a single novel.”

lip smiles shyly and blushes when ron says, “you’re incredible.”

they stare at one another a moment too long because nix clears his throat and when lip looked over he saw a wide, knowing smile.

“i see you two have finally met.”

lip smiled and looked from nix back to ron who hadn’t stopped staring at lip.

“yeah, we were just talking about why we chose to teach what we teach.” lip laughed and decided to try to get nix out of the longue as fast as possible, “why don’t you tell ron why exactly you got into teaching counterintelligence courses, nix?” 

nix eye’s narrowed and he stormed out of the room with a middle finger pointed at lip.

lip just laughed until it died in his throat when he saw ron, still looking at him. 

he smiled slyly, “you’ve been staring long enough, i’m inclined to believe you see something you like.”

ron smiled back and lip’s heart started racing again.

ron let out a small breath, “i do.”

lip braced himself, hoping he wasn’t being to forward, “do you want to have dinner sometime?”

ron let of a sigh of relief, “hell yes.”

lip smiled and dick popped his head around the corner, “guys the meeting is is going to start in twenty minutes.”

the both nodding, smiling.

dick moved to leave but then popped back in, “lip whatever you said to nix, please apologize. i can’t handle an entire meeting of his brooding.”

lip nodded, “sure.”

then both got up and started heading towards but lip stopped ron in the doorway.

“i have to admit i didn’t come in here to ask you out.”

ron frowned, but lip noticed the mischief in his eyes, “no? i’m heartbroken.”

lip laughed, “some of my students ask me t-”

ron sighed, “you wanna know if they're true or not, the stories about me?”

lip nodded lightly, “they do. they say it’s hard to concentrate and in a small, elite school like this, rumors fly.”

ron smiled, white teeth flashing against the fluorescent lights in the lounge,  “did you ever notice with stories like that, everyone says they heard it from someone who was there. then when you ask that person, they say they heard it from someone who was there.”

ron sighed, like he was used to this question and having to explain himself. lip regretted bringing it up.

ron continued, softly, “it's nothing new, really. i bet if you went back two thousand years, you'd hear a couple centurions standing around yakkin' about how tertius lopped off the heads of some carthaginian prisoners.”

lip smiled and ron smiled back, “well, maybe they kept talking about it because they never heard tertius deny it.”

ron laughed, “maybe that's because tertius knew there was some value to the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the whole roman legion.”

lip was once again mesmerized by the man before him.

ron broke their eye contact, a little regretfully, and moved to leave. lip grabbed his arm lightly, needing to let ron know that he was needed and wanted by more than just him. 

“ron?”

ron turned to look at first lip’s contact with his arm and then into his eyes.

“these boys aren't really concerned about the stories. they're just glad to have you as their professor. they're happy to have a good leader again.” lip smiled reassuringly.

ron placed his own hand over lip’s, and held tight. he took a deep breath and spoke softly, “well, from what I've heard, they've always had one. i've been told there's always been one man they could count on. led them through their midterms, held them together when they had the shit kicked out of them with term papers. every day, he kept their spirits up, kept the boys focused, gave 'em direction... all the things a good professor and leader does.”

lip looked at ron blankly, not sure where he was going with it or who he was talking about.

ron smiled, “you don't have any idea who i'm talking about, do you?”

lip gently shook his head, completely lost.

ron took a step closer, backing lip against the doorframe. 

“hell, it was you, professor lipton. ever since winters made dean, you've been the leader of the boys of the english department. they love you lip. they never stop talking about you.” ron looked down shyly and then looked at lip through his lashes, “and after meeting you. i can absolutely see why.”

lip had no control as his pressed his lips softly against ron’s and fully deepening the kiss when ron gasped.

they heard a light clearing of someone’s throat and pulled apart reluctantly.

lip’s eyes widened when he saw gene roe, blushing furiously and looking nervous.

ron kissed him once more, chaste and simple, like he’d been doing it forever and god, lip never wanted to kiss anyone that wasn’t ron. 

then ron headed towards the conference room and lip turned to roe.

“yeah roe, what’s up?”

“i-i uhm, i’m havin’ trouble with my thesis on jane eyre. i wanna write about rochester’s desperation, but i can’t get my thoughts straight.”

lip patted roe on the shoulder, and walked him through the steps of outlining and web thought mapping.

roe sighed in relief when it finally clicked in his head.

“thanks lip, i couldn’t get it all straight in my head.”

lip smiled, “it’s okay, you have to many great ideas roaming around in there, i can understand why.”

roe smiled shyly, “thanks.” roe went to walk away but turned around and leaned into lip and whispered, “by the way, i didn’t see anythin’.”

he winked and walked away. lip smiled and nodded in return. 

lip didn’t even have to apologize to nix, ron talked to him before lip even got into the meeting.

nix slapped lip’s arm, “good luck on your date, lip.”

lip smiled and sat next to ron.

their hands were linked the entire meeting.

and for the first time in his life, lip felt like one of the characters in the novels he based his life on. 

he felt like he was in love.

two years later

boston in the spring was perhaps lip’s favorite time of year and ron was certain that it was it the perfect time to marry the love of his life.

since the day they met, ron and lip had been inseparable. it didn’t help that they worked together. he’d lost count of how many people had discovered them making out, all hot and bothered, in various parts of the university. it had been a whirlwind of emotions, to say the least, for both of them. but it made it all the more real. they loved it all. 

they loved the summer, teaching classes outside. letting the student feel the rhythm of the words on the page, the music of a story unfolding before them. they loved relaxing on the grass, hands entwined, grades papers with the other. it’s on an ordinary day, with lip laughing at luz’s paper on the patriarchy in jane eyre, that ron realizes he’s in love with lip. 

they loved fall when they could walk through campus, leaves falling around them and changing colors before their eyes. lip catches a bright red one just as it’s about to fall on ron’s head. lip repeats a line from the masque of the red death, in a raspy voice, fingers creeping along ron’s chest, the trail of halloween sneaking up on them. and it’s on that cold autumn day, lip laughing softly at ron’s wides eyes. it’s on that cold autumn day,  when ron first tells lip, he loves him. 

they loved the winter, cuddled on the couch during cold, bleak nights when they would recite poetry and monologues to one another. where they could be away from the school for nearly a month and just be with one another on their own. it’s on a snowed in night, a fire blazing softly, whiskey warming them from the inside out, and their feet entangled on the couch, that their lives change. after an emotional rendition of annabel lee, ron crying out lines, voice wrecked, on his knees in front of lip, that ron proposes to lip with tears in his eyes. lip tackles him to the floor with a kiss that’s forever carved onto ron’s lips.

it only makes sense that they get married during spring. the time of year when lip’s favorite flowers were in bloom. where the scent of rain lingered for months. two years, to the day, since they first met. two hours after their favorite classes graduated, most of them sticking around for the graduate programs ron and lip now run entirely by themselves. their was a small gazebo on campus, just outside the lake and lip had chosen it because he and ron had met there the first time they read some of their favorite passages to one another. it was the place that lip realized he was absolutely and irrevocably in love with ron. 

all of them are already in suits and luz and toye had ran around campus right after graduation, gather flowers for all of them. it was a small gazebo so the majority of the boys and faculty were around it, instead of in it. 

beside lip stood luz and beside ron stood grant, both students who were now their teaching assistants and, if they were forced to tell the truth, their favorite students. not because they were smarter, better, or more likable. but lip and ron saw a kinship within them that reflected their own love and passion for their crafts. 

buck was officiating, having gotten his license for dick and nix’s wedding.

the couple have prepared their own vows.

this was it. 

ron hoped lip wasn’t mad or felt cheated, but no amount of words could convey everything he felt for lip. their love and his love for lip was more than he could ever sum up in a mere paragraph. if he had his way, he’d talk for years about his love for lip. 

he looked deep into lip’s eyes, tears threatening to fall over and he spoke ten simple words that he hoped lip would understand. 

he smiled and squeezed lip’s hands, “we loved with a love that was more than love.”

the entire group sighed and lip laughed warmly.

buck laughed, “lip?”

lip smiled, “sorry fellas.”

he pulled ron a little closer to him and entwined their fingers.

“you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you.”

ron smiled, tears finally mirroring lip’s and falling down his cheeks.

they exchange rings quickly and before he knew it, lip was in ron’s arms being kissed within an inch of his life.

they pulled apart with large cheers and hollers.

“i love you, ron.”

ron laughed against lip’s mouth, “i love you too, mr. darcy.”

lips slapped him and the two accepted a lot of hugs from the men they had the pleasure of calling their family.

and they’d never felt happier or more complete than in each other’s arms as husbands.

anonymous - thank you!!!!!!!!! i love love love this.

send me a pairing and an au and i’ll make an aesthetic post + ficlet 

[shinydixon]

Vincent Bauer x Reader - Feeling you Part 1[SMUT]

My first fanfiction’s about Norman Reedus’ character in Air (2015).

Maybe this won’t be the only one fic about him I’ll write.

Hope you like it babies ♥

WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (Oral [Reader receiving], a little bit of daddy kink because I’m an horrible person)

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO, SORRY FOR EVENTUAL ERRORS.

“Shouldn’t we wake her up?”

“You know very well we have to wait”

“We have to hurry, the clock is ticking”.

At first I can’t make out who was talking, all I can hear are confused voices, but then everything come back to me and I suddenly remember where I am.

In a flash my eyes are open, just in time to see the sleeping chamber’s film moving away from me.

I start coughing loudly, my throat was burning and dry.

“(Y/n) look at me”.

My (Y/e/c) eyes meets blue ones while I keep coughing.

“Just breath really slowly okay? In and out, follow me”.

I do as he said, I follow his movement, and slowly my breath return normal and steady.

“Thank you Bauer” I whispered, since my voice won’t come out.

He just smiled before turning to Cartwright.

“Let’s get to work, we don’t have much time”.

I get up from my sleeping chamber and take my position in front of the big computer.

Behind me I can hear Cartwright and Bauer arguing about who has to check on the sleepers.

“This time you have to check on them” Cartwright argued.

“Nah, they creep me out, besides, once I’m over, I have a date with miss 79s’”.

I can’t help but giggling, they’re so childish.

“What’s so funny?” Bauer creeped out behind me, turning the chair so I can face him.

“Well,you two are pretty entertaining” I keep giggling.

At that, Bauer kneel down in front of me: “I know another way to keep you enterained” Bauer’s murmured, getting very close to me.

“Oh? Don’t you have a date with miss 79′s?” we both laughed at that.

Bauer stood up, putting his headphones on and starting his round.

I can hearing him singing along the music and that make a big smile to happear on my face.

This was our routine, wake up for two hours every six months, making sure that everything is okay, then sleep again until the next shift.

At first  I thought I would get used to this routine, however I’ve missed some human contact.

All of us miss that.

I often find Cartwright talking to the sleepers, and Bauer pour out his frustration jerking off in the bathroom with those old magazines.

Vincent Bauer…things between us are really strange.

We don’t talk much with each other, but lately we always flirt and goof around together.

I have to admit that he’s a pretty handsome man, with those long dark hair and blue eyes…I’ll be a liar if I say that I didn’t wish to be the one taking out is frustration.

“No (Y/n), keep concentrate, you have a job to do”.

After an hour or so, Bauer came back, throwing his walkman on the table.

“Just for your information, I’ll use the bathroom first” he said, laying on the floor and starting doing push ups.

I can’t help but stare at him, wishing that those arms were wrapped around me.

“Do you like what you see?” He asked grinning.

“Oh fuck he noticed it”.

I quickly lower my head, and I’m pretty sure my cheeks are all red.

Clearing my throat I ignored his question: “Where’s Cartwright?”.

“He’s still talking to the sleepers, he give me creeps”.

I don’t know why but I feel irritated by his admission.

It’s true that Cartwright’s behaviour is creepy but I understand him.

He’s feeling lonely, like me, and he needs something to keep him from going crazy.

My line of thoughts is interrupted by Bauer getting up from the ground with his stupid magazine.

“I’m going into the bathroom for…you know, my date” he laughed a little at his own joke.

“That’s it (Y/n), now or never….do you really want to spend another 6 months in that sleeping chamber without any human contact? Are you really sure that this need to feel close with another human being won’t lead you to insanity?”.

“Bauer! Wait a minute!” “What?” He turns toward me, waiting for an answer.

“Listen…I…I…” “C’mon princess, you what?”.

“I’m feeling lonely…I mean, I really feel alone even if you two are here…I need some physical contact and it seems that you need that too so…I was wondering…”.

Bauer lets the magazine fall from his right hand while he take a step close to me.

He was so close I could feel his hot breath on my face.

“What are you suggesting princess?”.

Grinning I bring my hand on the zip of my dark blue coverall, unzipping it just enough to him to take a view of my bare breasts.

With a growl, Bauer cancel the distance between us and start to devour my lips.

His big hands roam around my body until he decide to keep them on my butt, giving it an hard squeeze.

“Oh yes Vincent!”

“That’s what I want to hear baby” his deep voice makes warm shivers running down my back.

With a swift movement he unzip my coverall, completely exposing my breasts.

“Look at these, you shouldn’t have kept these beautiful tits hidden from me”.

Without wasting more time, Bauer take my left nipple into his mouth while his hand take care of the other.

“Oh god…your mouth…aah”.

While he was busy with my breast, I bring my hand under his grey sweatpants, palming his growing tent.

“ah yeah (Y/n), you’re such a good girl”.

I almost complain when he let my nipple slip from his mouth.

“hush hush, be a good girl, daddy will make you feel good soon”.

Bauer roughly pull completely down my overall, then proceed with my panties.

“Now daddy’s gonna taste you” he said, going down on his knees, bringing my right leg on his shoulder.

Bauer bring his middle and pointer fingers on my lower lips, spreading them.

“Mmh, you’re already so wet for daddy” he commented, slowly licking my clit with the tip of his tongue.

“aah, please more daddy”

“That’s a good girl”.

He begin to lick and suck my clit while he bring two of his fingers on my entrance, entering me slowly and deeply.

“Oh yes, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop”.

I was a moaning mess, inchoerent words keep coming out from my mouth.

I was so loud that even Cartwright could hear, however I didn’t care at the moment.

After a paticular hard thrust, I bring my hand on his head, buring his face more into my center.

The gesture makes him moan, giving me more pleasure.

Suddenly the noise of the digital clock divert my attention from what Bauer was doing to me.

…18 minutes…

“Vincent…oh god…Vincent…we need to…ah!”

I try to warn him but he kept working his tongue so good on my lower region that I wasn’t able to talk.

Suddenly I grip his hair and pull him away from md making him moan loudly.

“18 minutes…we have 18 minutes” I say between heavy breaths.

“Let’s make it quick then”

Bauer lips are on mine again while he lay me down on the table, making some mechanical components fall to the ground.

I get up on my elbows, watching Bauer taking off his pants and boxer.

“Like what you see princess?”.

I lay down again with my legs spread open: “You have no idea Vince”.

Bauer climbs on me, alligning is erection with my entrance.

“Let daddy take care of your pretty little pussy, baby”.

With that said he enters me, setting a fast rhythm.

“Ah fuck yes baby, you’re so tight”.

I couldn’t answer back, I was so lost in pleasure that the only things coming out my mouth were moans and cry.

After a few thrust we both came, luckly he pulled out, coming on my lower abdomen.

Bauer keep staying on top of me, looking at me.

“I’m better then miss 79′s, am I?”

I smile at him and I start to caress his cheek with my right hand.

Suddenly, something that I never thought could happen, happened.

Bauer was crying.

Tears streams down his face and on my hand, while he lean his face into my caress: “You look just like her” he whispered.

I was taken aback by what he said: “I look like who?.

Without saying anything he get up from me and start to get dressed.

We both cleaned up and dressed in silence, without saying nothing at all.

I take a look at the clock, we have 6 minutes left before gettin’ back to sleep.

I walk toward Bauer, taking his hand into mine:” Please talk to me”.

Noticing my sadness and concern he pull me into an hug.

“There’s no time now…I’ll explaining to you the next time okay?”.

I don’t say anything, I just interrupt the embrace, walking toward my sleeping chamber.

I feel someone grip my wrist, spinning me around.

“Please (Y/n) trust me, I deeply care about you”.

He llift my head whit his hand on my chin, giving me a long kiss on my lips, making me feel something new toward him.

Cartwright enters the room, making us ending the kiss.

He didn’t say nothing, I can see he was tired of all this situation.

I lay down on my sleeping chamber, staring at Bauer.

“See you later?” he smiled.

I smile back at him: “See you later”.

Useless to say, I looking forward for this 6 months to pass quickly.

Forever Taglist:  @youandyourstupidrope

@chihuotheartist

@lunalowell

@weirdnewbie

@sithlordalice

@jodiereedus22

@maddybeck01

@reedusteinrambles

Bauer fic taglist: @totalfanfreak

[freuleinanna]

What are you thinking of, Norma Bates?

One of the very few things I actually did write out and even made efforts to translate into seemingly proper English.

What are you thinking of, Norma Bates, when you track the net of cracks on the ceiling with your eyes, ingraining it in your mind in smallest details and clutching at the fading thought of some day, one day, re-whitening it all over again? Or when you run your fingers through the dark hair, soothing your child with such natural, but empty, impassive maternal gesture?

‘Tell me the truth. Is he dangerous?’ ‘Of course not.’

You know you’re right, your little boy isn’t dangerous. A gigantic, throbbing lump is stuck deep in your throat, and you’re scared. Whoever it is here with you now, it’s not your little boy.

Chaotic thoughts tangle with one another, fighting. In yet another torturous effort you’re trying to understand when he changed so much, but ironically, you can’t even remember him growing up. It just so happened that one day you saw him towering over yourself and realized you actually had to reach out quite a bit to stroke his brown fringe off his clear, transparently blue eyes; it just so happened that one day he wasn’t stepping on your feet anymore and started to lead you in a dance instead. When did you get so used to resting your head on his shoulder? Probably the same moment you got used to thinking of him as of always and forever yours. But then, you already know the bad news.

Your little boy slips away sometimes, leaving his eyes gleam with something distant, something completely indifferent. You can bear anything, but not his indifference. You’ll walk to whichever lengths you need to keep him safe and yours if it helps, but it won’t, really. He is yours. Your little boy is losing himself, because he loves you too much.

Well, that’s gonna take a shitload of whitewash. One long crack splits the space. Then another one, and another one. You shut your eyes tight, nearly forgotten tears run down to your temples, but you still can see. The white, broken in thousands, millions of cracks. That’s you, cracking and shattering into pieces, Norma Bates. What do you think of that?

You don’t. You don’t even know how to care for yourself, only for him. And honestly, you’ve already decided. Whoever it is hiding behind a copy of your own ice-blue eyes, whoever is holding you down, breathing you in greedily and thumping you into the bed, it’s not your little boy, which means you can’t allow him to come back now. You’re feeling badly hurt and even worse betrayed, but what does it matter? Your boy, he’s so sensitive, he won’t be able to handle that. You have to protect him. Story of your life. You’re still having nightmares about that day in the forest when he tried to kill himself. Well, now you have something new to have nightmares about. Didn’t you want some changes in your life?

You keep holding your child and stroking his sweaty hair when it’s over, while you, so numb and exhausted, you’ve already thought of a place to hide your torn skirt for a while, before you can shove it to the garbage. Why, you’ve even chosen clothes to bring for your son, as his own are, obviously, a mess. You’ve always been the one to make sure he looks superb, haven’t you? You arrange things in his dresser, you know every piece like the back of your hand.

Well, are you able to get up and iron a shirt for him? Hell yes, you are. You’ve been through much worse.

And while he’s not with you yet, and his eyes are glaring with cold, empty stare, you’re going to go to the bathroom, you’re going to run the water so it roars and the old pipes shake and rattle through the whole house, and you’re going to let out a scream. Bursting your throat from the inside, it will come at last, a raving, ugly scream. And then the tears. You’ll cover your mouth with both hands, but they’ll still break through with uncontrollable sobs, leak in between your helpless little fingers. Your hands are shaking, Norma Bates. What do you think of that?

‘Have you any idea what’s it like, being raped by someone you love?’

Maybe you’ll throw up right into the sink. Quite possibly, you’ll even get wasted later just so it happens. Somehow, it reminds you of purification, though let’s be honest, isn’t it a bit funny to speak of anything pure in your regards? You unbutton the blouse, but can’t bring yourself to look in the mirror. You hate it when bad things become real. Real, like the burn mark you have. Like bruises that you can almost feel appear on your shoulders. There’s still the sense of a rough grip on your thighs, and goddammit, you cry again. An ugly, shameful cry. But not for too long, no. You can’t afford too long, just like that first day in town that welcomed you with violence, as if your shitty life caught up with you and threw you a good punch. That day you shoved your crying as far as you could and did everything you had to do, for your son.

For your son, you’ll wash your face and try and do something with your hair. Honestly, it’s an awful idea to whip them up with wet hands, but it’s not until it’s done, that you realize that. You curse, and jerk the towel off its hook, and get so furious at it all of a sudden, that you fling it on the floor – and then you pick it up and put back on the hook where it belongs, because ordinary, normal people keep their bathrooms in proper order. You want to be ordinary and normal, that’s why you’re always keeping everything in order. Still, you don’t dare to take a look in the mirror. If you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist. It’s easier to scratch it from your memory like that. Will you have enough time for this before your boy comes to sleep in your bed? Every hour counts. Tick tock.

He comes to his senses when you’re brushing his hair, clutches at your hand, blinking, and you feel like you’re drowning in fear – not for yourself, for him. He’s so helpless.

‘Did I black out again?’

‘Not for long. Everything’s alright, honey.’

He looks around and frowns. You know how dangerous these thoughts can be.

‘What did I do?’

You struggle to swallow. There’s a bottle of wine in the kitchen, you could drink it at a gulp, then go to the bathroom, shove fingers down your throat and… Your lips twitch in a weak smile.

‘Nothing, sweetheart. Just… blacked out, sat on a couch for like three hours. Knocked down a glass of juice on yourself, so I had to change your shirt.’

He immediately looks down, pressing his palm against his chest to feel the fabric, and somewhat awkwardly tries to check if he’s still wearing the same trousers or if he had to go through an embarrassment of being changed into the fresh ones. But hey, you made sure to zip up his fly and tighten his belt. You truly are an amazing mother.

‘Thank you, Mother.’

He leans towards you to give you a kiss, and you turn your cheek to him. You two look like a perfectly decent family, it’s only that your eyes are scanning the room, looking for means of escape, just in case. Then again, admit it, you’re not serious, Norma Bates. You almost fail to contain a hysterical little giggle, thinking how conveniently you didn’t get off the pill just yet. That – that is what your life feels like. What do you think of that?

‘You know, Norman, I think we really should re-whiten the ceiling’ you say with as much cheer and enthusiasm as you can fake, just to say something.

And you smile, oh, you smile. That, Norma Bates, is something you do best.