#ruth deaver

[eightthousandrats]

one of my favorite things in castle rock is how much sissy and bill share a resemblance

like not only is this guy i found in a hole claiming to be me but he looks exactly like my mom

let’s be stephen king alum with mama

[stuckasmain]

Absolutely adore castle rock, as a big fan of Stephen king books it’s great to see something very in spirit to his books on screen. It’s not based on any one book (to what I know) and more sort “inspired by” and “based” on his works. Like they references Cujo and the shining as stuff that happened but it’s not a adaption.

One of my favorite things is the relationship between Alan Pangborn (who I know from Needful things- he’s different but very much in spirit of the book character) and Ruth Deaver who’s showing signs of  Alzheimer’s . It’s nice to see a relationship between older people and by god my heart can’t handle it with how he cares for her and advocates for her whits? 

I just know it’s not going to end well for them and I don’t think I can take it

[neorxnawangs]

sissy spacek and andré holland as ruth deaver and henry deaver in castle rock

[skarsgard-daydreams]

on good days, the kid tags along on your trips to the grocery store. you take him early in the morning when the only other people out shopping are elderly. at least when they stare, they have the decency to keep their comments to themselves. the kid likes to trace his fingertips along the edge of the shelves as he follows you down the aisle, occasionally pausing to examine a product more closely. he will lean in and furrow his brows for a long moment. if it's something he wants, he picks it up and quietly places it in your hands so you can add it to the cart. the kid is considering a box of organic cereal when you run into your neighbor, a petite retired woman with wispy hair and a warm smile. she goes out of her way to say hello and ask after your family as she holds two bags of ground coffee. after a few moments of pleasant conversation, the kid appears at your side. he is about to hand you a box of cereal when his gaze lands on the woman’s face. he stares at her in stunned silence before lowering his eyes to the floor. it feels like the ground is tilting beneath your feet, as though a cosmic disturbance has disrupted the gravitational pull between celestial bodies.

“Henry, this is Ruth,” you say quickly, trying to make him feel at ease. you wonder if the encounter with the journalist left him too rattled for a trip like this. Ruth smiles warmly. “my son’s name is Henry,” she says. “I-I know,” the kid mumbles without lifting up his head. his shoulders are sloped and his hands are trembling. you’re tempted to make a quick exit, but something about the way Ruth is looking at him gives you pause. she has the same expression that you sometimes see on the kid’s face when he’s searching for a lost memory. “have we met before, dear?” she asks in a gentle voice. “my memory isn't what it used to be.” the kid's lips barely move as he speaks. “mine isn't either,” he says. the floor beneath you seems to shift again, nearly throwing you off-balance. “Ruth lives in the house across the lake,” you tell the kid, hoping that you can help anchor him back in time and space. you take the box of cereal from his hands and place it carefully in the cart.

“maybe you two can come over for coffee sometime,” Ruth says. she glances back down at the bags of coffee in her hands. “what do you think?” she asks. “medium, or dark roast?” you reach for the kid’s hand as he picks at a stray bit of thread on the hem of his flannel shirt. “medium,” he whispers, touching his fingertips to the center of your palm. “medium it is,” Ruth says cheerfully, adding the bag of coffee to her basket. “it was nice to see you again, Henry,” she says. that’s when the ground beneath your feet seems to slip away completely. you grab the kid’s hand tightly and decide that you have to get out of there. you plaster a polite smile on your face until Ruth leaves. "I can finish the shopping tomorrow,” you tell the kid. he remains frozen in the aisle, his hand hanging limply in your grasp. you tug him down the aisle and out of the store, abandoning your cart entirely.

hours later, the kid lays on the couch with his head resting in your lap. he hasn’t said a word, but it feels as though a storm cloud hovers over the house, charging the air with static electricity. though his eyes are glossy, he doesn’t cry. you’re not sure if he can after everything he’s been through. you stroke his hair and pull the throw blanket up around his shoulders, hoping you can at least let him know that he’s not alone. as the daylight wanes into twilight, the kid mumbles something so quietly that you have to strain to hear him. “in my world,” he whispers, “Ruth is my mother.” you run your fingers through his downy hair and feel your heart crack down the middle. “would you like to see her again?” you ask. your voice sounds unsteady in your ears. a small whimper escapes the kid’s throat. he nods slightly, unable to speak. “I think she’d like that too,” you tell him, brushing the soft pad of your thumb over the hollow of his cheek as one of your tears falls onto his face. the kid squeezes his eyes shut and places his hand over yours, holding it against his cheek. together you sit in the darkened living room, neither one of you willing to break away from the other, until his breathing evens out and you drift into a dreamless sleep.

(part of Sound and Color: a series of The Kid/Henry stories/drabbles)

@stevesharrlngtons @grandpa-sweaters @scxrsgxrd @scuba-seamus @goblincxnt @lihikainanea @skarsatdawn @stardust2me @flowers-in-your-hayr

[a-hologramgalaxy]

[kiwimidnight]

See, I can get lost in the past. These are my breadcrumbs. If I find a chess piece in the icebox, well, I know it's now, not then. That I can find my way out of the woods.

CASTLE ROCK  —  7. “ The Queen ”

[someiconsx]

the kid (castle rock) - icons (part 1).     ✧ like or reblog if you use/save.     ✧ @dearcardan on twitter.

[arielmh]

Bill Skarsgård and Sissy Spacek in Castle Rock